1 : 3 2  A M

     Landon started singing again.

    "You ran away from a fight?" Chris gaped, ignoring Landon's horrible voice in the background as he drove. "A fight that you started?"

    "I was being smart," Wyatt muttered low beside me.

     Due to our abrupt escapade, Wyatt, Landon and I were mushed against each other in the backseat, and I was right between them. I tried, as inconspicuously as I could, to shift a little bit further from Wyatt. Our shoulders and arms and thighs just kept touching whenever Chris made a turn. But I couldn't really lean into Landon, either, who was currently singing in his drunken state.

     And it didn't really help that his top was still bare.

    "Are you sure you don't have an extra T-shirt or anything?" I asked Wyatt, trying to redirect the conversation.

    "I'm sorry that I came ill-prepared for the shirtless guys I planned on bringing home," he replied smoothly, amusement layered over it.

     I blushed in the dark night. "Right."

     Wyatt chuckled.

    "Maybe," Chris replied, clicking his tongue as I failed to change the subject and not wanting to lose to him,  "or you were being a coward."

     (Help me.)

    "Chris—" I tried.

    "What would you have me do?" Wyatt suddenly snapped and I almost flinched. "Believe me, I wanted to deck that asshole in the face over and over again. But he had friends in the club. Call me a coward all you want, but when you start ganging up on one person, they're the cowards. If I stayed, I would've been the most stupidest person alive."

    "White lips, pale face, breathing in snowflakes..."

    "Wyatt's right," I said quietly, filling in the silence that just turned as sharp as a knife. "And they weren't afraid to hurt me, too."

     Chris finally shut up after that.

     I felt Wyatt shift closer to me even though all I was trying to do in that moment was to create distance between us. But when he did, the warmth of his body immediately seeped into me, and I couldn't help wanting him closer. My body turned toward his as his did the same, like it was on instinct, like we'd always be drawn to each other.

    "Did he?" he asked so lowly, his words merely a breath.

    "Did he what?"

    "Hurt you."

    "No," I whispered, unable to look into his eyes.

    Wyatt licked his lips, eyes shifting around my face. "Are you okay at least?"

    "I should be asking you." I grabbed his right hand, which looked far worst than before. The blood that I'd cleaned from his first fight bled through again, and the dark, purple bruises looked so painful. "Why are you always punching people in the face?"

     His lips twitched. "It's become an unhealthy habit."

     We're both silent again, because his words indicated the lost time we had together, and how much I didn't really know this new Wyatt.

    "Syd," his lips so achingly close, squeezing my hand in his and bringing it near his chest, "before all of this ends, I want you to know—"

    "Guys," Chris cut off. "Not to sound like a bitch, but can one of you move to the front? I need directions and I'm kind of freaking out here."

     Wyatt briefly glared to the back of Chris's head before letting go of my hand, the sudden cold of it missing his absence already. He moved across to the passenger seat, which I assumed was the natural option since it'd be his own shoes to dirty the seat. I let out a steady breath, feeling relieved that our conversation was left with a cliffhanger. 

     Even though I was dying to know what he was going to say.

     Drained, I turned my head and jumped. 

     Landon was looking straight at me.

     (Can this night not get any weirder?!)

    "Um." I blinked. "Can I help you?"

    "She left me," he murmured.

     My chest constricted. This was the first time I'd actually heard him talk actual sentences, and not mumbling words or singing in false tunes. But the way he said it... it almost cut through my own heart, because I heard visible pain in his voice. "Who did?"

    "Her."

    "Who—"

    "Light's gone, day's end, long nights, strange men..."

     I couldn't stop staring at him as he continued singing like he hadn't just uttered the most cryptic, yet gnawingly sad, words to me. And the way he sang the song—soft and quietly—made my skin crawl with goosebumps. He just kept his head turned to the window and his charcoal-coloured eyes looking far away into the night. They were almost black that his pupils were nearly invisible.

    "We need to make a drive-thru," I instantly blurted to the boys in front. "Landon's awake, but I'm not sure if he's awake awake. I think he may have taken something other than a bottle of whiskey."

     Wyatt turned his head to inspect Landon's state. He nodded.

     He helped Chris drive us to the nearest McDonalds chain, the big yellow sign flickering through the quiet streets. There was a relatively quiet crowd inside, but we opted for the drive-thru section to save time.

    "Five Big Mac cheeseburgers and four cokes please," Chris ordered.

     Wyatt frowned. "Five?"

    "I'm quite famished."

     Just as the waitress behind the counter stretched out our paper bags to Chris, I spotted someone inside the restaurant. Someone with bright platinum hair and a distinct outfit whom I remember so clearly.

    "Wait!" I blurted out as the car moved again.

    "What—"

     I opened the back door mid-drive.

    "Sydney!" Wyatt called.

     Not wanting to risk a minute, I stumbled onto the pavement and made my way quickly to the illuminated, almost empty restaurant. Behind me, I heard the car screeched into a stop, a door slammed shut and a voice rumbling curses as footsteps trailed behind me.

     The McDonalds' door opened with a little ding! and for a second I savoured the delicious scent of freshly made fried food. I caught Platinum Girl still waiting in line, examining her red-rimmed nails.

     I made my way towards her.

    "Hi," I said breathlessly. The girl jerked a bit, turning to me. "I'm sorry to bother you, I mean no trouble, but we've—"

    "Met," she finished, her devilish eyes gleaming with mischief. Just like the first time I saw her. "I remember you. You're Sydney Jenkins."

     The footsteps behind me stopped.

     I blinked. "Yeah." I couldn't contain my surprise that she even remembered my name. "And you're—"

    "Laney," Wyatt raised his eyebrows in surprise—and in suspicion—as he stood right beside me. "What the hell are you doing here?"

     Wait. Laney. The name rang a bell inside my head although I wasn't quite sure where I'd heard it from. Wyatt's Instagram post came back to memory, when I first saw it just this morning. Laney... Burke—

     Oh my God. Laney Burke. The host.

     She was the host all along. 

     Laney grinned at Wyatt. "Getting myself some chicken fingers. The better question is, what are you two doing here? Together?"

    "Her friend's missing," he said simply. "I'm helping her."

    "Mhm."

     Laney was giving a meaningful look to Wyatt the whole time, sometimes cocking her head like she was taking mental notes. I couldn't see Wyatt's expression, but I swore it sounded like every word exchanged had meanings only they understood. What was going on?

     (Did they know something I didn't?)

    "She's the one with the black hair who came with me," I quickly added, picking at the hem of my top. "Remember?"

    "Oh, that Jess girl?" Yes, everyone seemed to know who Jess was. "She was with some people I know, so I crossed paths every now and then. Actually, I think those friends are at another house party right now. Your friend's probably there."

     I almost dropped to my knees. "For real?"

    "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

     Honestly, I couldn't tell if my life depended on it.

     Was it sheer luck that we found our answer just like that? I wanted to be psyched, but I couldn't help but be pessimistic. The first stop went horrifyingly bad, so while I was open to the possibility, my guards were up and running now.

    "Alright," I nodded, almost to myself. "Where's the party?"

    "Well, I was about to head there myself, you see." There was the glint in Laney's eyes that I now recognised and kind of feared. "But someone ditched me here. Didn't want to come with me. Very rude."

    "Oh." I bit my lip, then looked over to Wyatt, who seemed annoyed as hell. But why would he be? "Do you maybe want to, um, come with—"

    "—you guys? That's a great idea," she grinned, already walking towards the exit. "What a splendid idea of yours, Sydney."

     I was beginning to think I'd said the wrong thing.

     The door gave another surprising ding! and was followed by Chris's voice: "Seriously, guys, you have got to stop leaving me in the car," he said, storming towards us, then paused as he looked from me, Wyatt, to Laney. "Uh, what's going on here?"

    "We have a plus one, apparently," Wyatt said, deadpanned.

    "Do we even know where the hell we're going next?"

     Laney only gave Chris a wide grin. "You're in for a treat."

1 : 5 8  A M

     When the car finally rolled to a stop, I was relieved to get out.

     The whole ride couldn't be more awkward. I was crushed again in the middle of the backseat, having to endure Landon's loud chewing of his BigMac and Laney's persistent questions about how the four of us ended up working together. If I was being more perceptive, however, I would've pointed out that she focused a little bit too much on Wyatt and I's situation. Which made absolutely no sense.

     Because Wyatt's replies remained bland, stoic and borderline blunt.

     The casual warmth of him gone.

    "Does he hate you or something?" I whispered then.

    "Nah," Laney hissed back. "He's just annoyed that I keep embarrassing him."

     But little did I know that, once we got out of the car, relief was far beyond my reach. Hell, that was probably true for the rest of my night.

     Laney did not specify what party it was.

     The house had a similar structure to the first one, of course this time, it was much smaller. We got around the patio and right into the sprawling backyard, where a gigantic pool seem to glow in the middle. It was adorned with ignited tiki torches, giving it a warm, sultry atmosphere under the moonlight. I scanned the area in a single swoop—bottled booze, glow sticks, the clinking of Carribbean cocktails, and the R&B music in the background.

     It all came from a damn Hollywood movie.

    "Welcome to Wonderland," Laney said with a Cherish cat's smile.

     But that wasn't the cherry on top. No, the most surprising thing was—

    "Why is everyone here naked?" Chris asked, partly in shock and partly in awe.

    "'Cos it's a fucking pool party." And then she did something that completely threw me off. She started stripping.

    "Whoa," I let out, panicking, "what are you—"

    "Take your clothes off," she instructed, a diabolical grin forming in her face. Like this was all part of her plan. Her little game to play. She stripped everything down to her bra and undies, playfully tossing me her shirt as the rest of her clothes dropped to the ground.

     I yanked it away from my face. "Excuse me?"

    "If you want to get in, you have to strip, sweetheart," she cooed. "I didn't make the rules this time, but if I were you, I'd rather just do it." She walked backwards and catapulted to the pool, yelling "Make way, motherfuckers!" and splashed as the crowd whooped and cheered.

     Apparently, no one had a problem with this rule. They seem ecstatic. Chris grinned wide and started stripping as well, slipping off his shoes and on his way to being shirtless. He glanced at my shocked expression.

    "Let loose, Melbourne," he smirked, finally just to his boxers. My eyes bulged out. Look away, Syd! "Even Landon here is halfway done."

     Landon, shirtless ever since we got here, only waved at us lazily.

     Seconds later, Chris joined Laney in the pool.

     Thumpthumpthump. My heart has officially left my body.

     Everyone was losing their fucking minds. Either that or they were just horny little fucks. Not my kind of scene tonight. Did they really expect me to be naked in front of all these people I didn't know?! 

     I scanned my surroundings quickly. There were only people around our age and slightly older—high school seniors and college folks—and there were no signs of any bouncers like the ones we had encountered back in the Blacklist mansion. That means no one was going to stop me if I strutted inside still fully-clothed. Right?

     They're just teenagers. They're not going to hurt you.

     I took a couple of steps forward.

    "Jenkins!" Laney shouted from the pool, having watched us both as she came up for air and had her elbows perched up on the poolside. "I told you you better strip!"

    "No one's here to stop me, Laney—"

    "They're not going to stop you." I paused to look at Laney's raised brows. "They're going to strip you if you don't do it yourself."

     What. The. Actual. Fuck.

    "That's harassment," Wyatt uttered the very words in my head.

     Laney shrugged. "That's teenagers."

     ThumpthumpTHUMPTHUMP.

    "Hey," Wyatt murmured, stepping in front of me and holding the back of my neck, soothing circles like he always used to when I was freaking out. I melted under his touch. Fuck. He lowered his head towards mine. "Fuck them. You don't have to do it if you don't want to. And if they so much as touch you, I'll beat the shit out of them." His lips lifted. "Or rather lend a helping hand as you'll do it."

     I looked up at him.

     He wasn't stripping. We were the only ones fully-clothed. His serious, I'm-sure-as-hell expression was on his face, that confident, self-assured posture of his never once wavering. 

     He was staying by my side. 

     As he always had been. 

     It was like I was breathing in the courage that he was offering me. Because suddenly the next words were out of my mouth just like that. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Then, surprising myself at how steady my voice sounded, I said, "Strip."

Holy shit. Yes, baby. Time to hit the bit guns.