The air was dim, with misty breaths and whipping hair. The deep bass hummed through the scene giving the cue for the inhabitants to drop. On cue, they dropped and waved their arms in unison. They moved in a group, waving arms and performing the same social dance moves.

Nae Nae, Bop, Whip, Stanky Leg.

For the common outsider, they were strange collections of characters and gibberish created by the uneducated. For them, it was a movement, a dance, a protest, a gathering.

The scene was haunting. The bodies bouncing up and down on beat. They sang with melodically drawn out notes and the air buzzed with fervor.

Watch me, they yell.

Cakewalk, Twist, Break Your Legs.