“You’re the one who strapped it to yourself,” Sam says flatly, sipping his drink with that familiar look of exhausted amusement he reserves for Trey’s worst ideas.
Trey scowls. “Commitment. You should try it, Diesel.” he mutters, patting the parrot’s head. It immediately springs to life. “
“Raawk, Polly wants to touch it.”
“Vin Diesel, you douche nozzle,” Sam corrects smoothly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Get it right if you’re gonna insult me. Also, how many weird sayings did you program into that thing?”
“That…” Trey groans, swaying again. “I have no idea.”
Chace lifts his whiskey, like he’s about to toast, his voice dropping into a gravelly impersonation that’s eerily close to Vin Diesel’s. “To family… and late-night shopping.”
We all lose it.
I sip my cola, sweet and sharp on my tongue, and lean into the velvet curve of our VIP booth, trying to lose myself in the rhythm of the moment. Fairy lights flicker between the pines, and the bass from the stage pulses through the forest like a second heartbeat. There’s smoke in the air—bonfires, cigarettes, something else that smells illegal—and people everywhere. Witches and angels. Vampires and devils. A dancing mass of glitter and costume and October heat.
But my eyes keep drifting to the crowd.
I’m still looking for him.
Logan.
He said he’d be right back. He kissed me like it was nothing and everything all at once, then disappeared into the crowd with a promise on his lips. That was… fifteen minutes ago? Twenty?
I don’t want to be dramatic. I don’t want to overthink. But the longer he’s gone, the more my thoughts start to spiral. My fingers curl tighter around my glass. The lights feel a little toobright. The music a little too loud. Something inside me ticks faster with every second.
“Hey.” Chace leans in, voice softer now. “You alright?”
I force a nod and a smile. “Yeah. Just waiting on Logan.”
Trey slings an arm over my shoulders, the scent of rum and smoke clinging to him. “Relax, baby girl,” he says, voice softer than I expect. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll shoot a text to the security team—ask if anyone’s seen our Mad Hatter wandering off. Yeah?”
I glance at him, my heart squeezing. His concern undoes me a little.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Thanks.”
He gives me a quick squeeze. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably signing boobs or taking selfies with pumpkin sluts. Rockstar life, right?”
I laugh, because I have to. Because if I don’t, I’ll break.
But the truth is… the party feels different without him. The night doesn’t glow the same when he’s not beside me. And no matter how hard I try to smile and sip my drink, all I can think is—
Where the hell are you, Logan?
Trey’s phone buzzes. He pulls it from his pocket, eyes darting across the screen. The lightness in his expression drops away so fast it makes my heart lurch.
“What is it?” I ask, sitting up straighter, pulse ticking faster.
He hesitates just a second too long. “They haven’t seen him.”
I freeze. “What do you mean they haven’t seen him?”
“I checked in with the security team,” he says, standing now, attention swinging to the others. “Guys—I don’t wanna freak anyone out, but… Logan’s MIA. No one's seen him in a while. Securities on it now. They're searching.”
A hush falls over our section. The boys look between each other, expressions shifting from confusion to concern.
My stomach knots. “Missing?” I whisper, barely able to get the word out. “How long’s it been?”
“I’m not sure,” Trey says gently, crouching down beside me. “Could be nothing. Maybe he just needed some air. Or he went back to the villa for something and didn’t want to drag security with him.”
