07

Sienna's point of View;

"Why is she like this?" Enzo muttered like he couldn’t help himself as we all watched Missy disappear through the restaurant doors.

I didn’t even look at him. Just the sound of his voice made my blood boil

He said it like she was some kind of puzzle he couldn’t be bothered to solve. Like she was annoying.

“She likes her space,” Nico said, his voice tight. Protective.

Marco shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck like he didn’t understand any of this.

“Or she’s hiding something,” he said. “Like, who freaks out about a party like that?”

Before I could snap, Alexander’s voice cut through the air like ice breaking.

“That’s not your business.”

We all froze. Even Enzo.

Alexander rarely spoke, and when he did, it meant don’t question him.

The table went quiet after that. No one said a word. I stood up and grabbed my purse.

“I’ll see you guys at the party,” I said, already turning toward the door. I needed air. And space.

And maybe if I was being honest I needed distance from how uncomfortable it suddenly felt without Missy sitting beside me.

The drive to my place was quiet, but my thoughts weren’t. I kept replaying it her voice, the look in her eyes.

That wasn’t fear of parties. That was trauma. Flashbacks. Panic. And it came out of nowhere.

Missy never talked about her past. I’d known her only for a few weeks, and she never mentioned family beyond her mom.

No siblings. No dad. And she never went out.

She just drew in her sketchbook, hummed old songs, and watched birds from the window like they were telling her stories.

"You make me want to look into your background, little Missy," I whispered to myself.

But I wouldn’t. I cared about her. She wasn’t some stranger. She was like… my kid sister. The one I never had.

---

Two hours later, the party was alive.

Red lights, loud music, perfume, and danger hung in the air like perfume mixed with smoke.

Bodies swayed, drinks spilled, and secrets buzzed around in the corners of every whispered conversation.

Marco slid his arms around my waist when I walked in, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You look hot,” he said.

“You better hope I do,” I said, letting myself laugh for a second.

But the truth was… something felt off.

I looked around.

Nico was leaned against the wall, sipping soda, barely talking to anyone.

His eyes flicked toward the door every few minutes like he was expecting someone.

Enzo, on the other hand, was soaking in the attention.

Arms stretched across the couch, girls hovering nearby, laughing at things he didn’t even say.

Alexander was silent. Sitting in the corner, jaw tight, staring into his drink like it wronged him.

He was always intense, but this time… it felt heavier.

I leaned into Marco and whispered, “Why does it feel weird without her here?”

He raised a brow. “You mean your soft little roommate?”

I elbowed him gently, but the question lingered in my mind.

Even surrounded by alcohol, music, expensive shoes, and dangerous men Missy’s absence was loud.

She changed something.

She walked into our lives all wide-eyed and sweet, and now everything felt a little less sharp when she was around.

But tonight she wasn’t.

And somehow, we all felt it.