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They’ll analyze my outfits, my body, my curves, the way I move, the way I act.

It’s not that I’m insecure, because I’m not. But I also can’t say I’m entirely satisfied with the way I look.

I don’t wear certain outfits to stand out, even if that’s what people probably assume. I wear them because I know how to dress in a way that flatters my body. And the colors… those are my way of brightening certain periods of my life. Besides, I genuinely like them. Some shades simply suit me.

“When you stepped out of the car earlier, I thought you were someone else for a long moment,” Thalia says with a shake of her head. “And honestly? It scared me a little.”

Laughing softly, I take another sip of my glass.

“I figured maybe I should give purple a break for a while,” I explain. “I’m trying to attract as little attention as possible… and give them fewer things to write about.”

My voice drops at the end, the words meant more for myself than for either of them, but both hear me.

Sierra places her hand over mine on the bar and offers me a warm smile.

“They’ll always find something to write. Or at least try to,” Thalia says, frustration creeping into her voice. “Sometimes it’s really hard not to take it personally, but you have to. It’s better for your peace of mind.”

The slight distance that settles over her after she speaks, her eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the room, makes it obvious she’s talking from experience. And judging by the look on her face, there are still things that haunt her.

“Everything okay, kitten?”

All three of us turn toward the voice as Ethan appears behind Thalia, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

The change in her is immediate. Whatever tension she had settled over her face disappears beneath a smile, her eyes lighting up the moment she feels his arms around her.

Before she gets the chance to answer, Nick appears behind Sierra, slipping a possessive arm around her waist.

“Did you three hide here because something bothered you, or because you can’t wait to leave?” he asks after pressing a quick kiss to Sierra’s lips.

“The second option,” I answer for them, my eyes drifting across the room again in search of Zayn.

Still nothing.

For a second, I consider asking if anyone has seen him, but the thought dies almost as quickly as it appears. I don’t want to make it seem as though I’m worried about where he is—or, worse, give anyone the wrong impression.

“We’ll stay another hour at most, then we can leave,” Ethan says.

“Want to go sit at the table?” Nick suggests. “Maybe people will stop interrupting us.”

The three of us start chuckling, though the guys don’t seem nearly as amused by the number of conversations they’ve been dragged into tonight.

Ethan starts walking first, pulling Thalia along by the hand. Nick motions for me to follow, and Sierra falls into step behind me, while he brings up the rear.

We weave through the crowd, slipping between people dancing and groups gathered in conversation. Some are probably trapped in painfully boring business discussions; others are leaning close, exchanging gossip beneath the music.

We make it to the table without being stopped, and within minutes, everyone else joins us.

Everyone except Zayn.

Would he really leave without telling me?

Did something upset him enough to make him leave? Or did something happen?

A strange feeling settles heavily in my chest, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake it.

“If we don’t leave soon, I swear I’m not going to react nicely the next time someone interrupts a conversation to talk about business,” Theo warns as he drops into his seat.

“The questions about our chain were driving me insane,” Colt explains. “I understand curiosity, but this is getting excessive.”