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But Chase doesn’t even let me finish.

“Perfect. We’ll be at your place by eight.” He smirks, clapping me on the back as he passes. “And before you even think about ghosting, remember—we’ve got the damn access codes.”

I stop walking, jaw tight, one eyebrow twitching.

“Right,” I mutter, glaring after him. “Really need to change those stupid codes.”

I shake my head and keep moving, boots hitting the tile with a steady thud. But inside, I’m spiraling again.

Because the truth is, I do want to disappear tonight. Not because I’m tired. Not because I’m bored. But because if I walk into the club, and someone so much as looks at me the wrong way, I might lose it.

There’s this raw, unsettled edge in me lately—like my own skin doesn’t fit right. Like something’s off balance and I can’t fix it.

And all of it, every last fractured inch of me, started the second Sierra walked out my door Friday night.

I grit my teeth and keep walking to my car, trying to convince myself a night out might help. But I already know it won’t.

Not when the only place I want to be is five days and a thousand mistakes behind me.

I’m sprawled on the couch, towel slung low on my hips, hair damp, body sore from training—but not in a good way.

My muscles ache from the drills, but it’s nothing compared to the knot in my chest. A knot that hasn’t loosened in fucking days.

I scrub a hand over my face. What the hell is wrong with me?

I keep replaying it—her face when I said those words, the way her body tensed, the silence that followed like it had weight. And her eyes… fuck, those eyes.

I’ve tried to bury it under reps, under drills, under sweat. But it’s like she’s stitched into the damn air I breathe. I can’t get rid of her, and I don’t know if I want to.

I sit up, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. My gym bag is packed, sitting by the door. I haven’t decided if I’m going out tonight or not.

Chase and Aiden said something about that new club opening, and I already know if I don’t move fast, they’ll be at my place and drag me out anyway.

I eye the front door. Maybe I should finally change those damn codes.

Just as I reach for my phone to procrastinate on that thought, it starts going off like it’s having a meltdown. Buzz after buzz. Notifications from the new group chat—the one without Sierra in it.

Right. The original group still exists, but no one’s touched it since that night. The night everything between us imploded.

I open the thread, and immediately regret it.

Guys

Liam: I don’t know if I should be worried or not that it’s been days since Sierra showed up in London and we’ve heard nothing.

Kai: The fact that we don’t know where either of you are, or if she even stayed, is starting to piss me off.

Noah: Yeah, Nickolas. We’re all kinda done tiptoeing around the subject with both of you.

Noah: We want answers. Or at least an update. What the hell happened last Friday?

Zayn: If I don’t get answers soon about my sister, I’m gonna lose it.

Zayn: We’ve all respected the rules we agreed on, but it’s been long enough. Neither of you is doing anything about this.

Zayn: And you both look like ghosts.

Ryan: Also, you stopped coming home.