"OH MY GOD," I giggled as I tapped Camille's puffed up cheeks, "your cheeks are so pinchable. Oh my god you're so cute, Cami. Cami, the most adorable little girl in the world. Cami!"

  Besides us, Dean watched with utter amusement. "Is this how girls usually act?"

  "She's so cute," I told him, though my eyes were still trained on Camille. "Such pinchable cheeks."

  "Can I try?"

  "No!" Both Camille and I cried out at the same time. I turned to glare at him, and he held up both hands in mock surrender.

  "Jesus Christ. Calm down. Fine. I won't."

  We sat in a VIP booth at the club that belonged to Lance's brother, staring down at the dance floor below. Lance and Savannah had disappeared a while ago—I must admit, Savannah didn't seem to be the fondest of Camille. I'd pointed this out to my best friend a while back, and she'd agreed. It was probably how good friends Camille and Lance seemed to be, but Camille had already told me she was keeping her distance. I trusted her. But either way, they'd already gone, alongside a mass majority of the other kids that Lance had brought along.

  Orion had sent himself on a mission to acquire us drinks a while ago, though how he'd managed to carry back four glasses was a mystery. So far, he had not returned, so Camille, Dean and I remained sitting there, overlooking everything.

  Neon lights covered every inch of the club. My eyes had almost been destroyed the moment I'd stepped in, and I was slowly starting to get used to it now. That, and our booth was darker than the rest of the club, and far away enough from the nearest speaker that my ears weren't exploding yet either. A DJ was hyping up the crowds below, our friends' sweaty bodies probably among them, but it was rather difficult to seek them out.

  The only nice thing was that the air conditioner was set high enough it didn't feel hot. It was December, but Hong Kong was never truly cold, and there were so many people. I felt like I could get trampled if I went on the dance floor, which was why so far, I hadn't.

  And for once, Camille seemed to agree that it might be a slightly better idea to stay up here with me until the crowds started to disperse a little. Not sure how long that would take, but we were sure it would happen eventually... right?

  I wasn't a Lan Kwai Fong regular—which was expected, since I'd only turned eighteen less than a year ago and most of that time had been spent in the UK. But everyone had heard of Lan Kwai Fong. In the heart of Hong Kong were these narrow streets and alleys, crammed with people every weekend night, a mess of fluorescent light, cigarette smoke and glasses chiming as they were knocked together. The sound of talking, laughing, all amalgamating into one epic fantasy. It seemed different from the rest of the city somehow.

  The street was popular with expatriates, so there were plenty of foreign faces among the natives in the crowds. Lance's brother must make a fuckton if he was able to afford such a large place at Lan Kwai Fong. And just looking at this crowd...

  Jesus Christ.

  Camille threw her head onto my shoulder. "I actually came here once before," she told me. "Remember Eric?"

  "Eric Ou?"

  "Yeah, him. He threw his birthday party during the summer holidays, remember?"

  "Oh, I didn't go, I was in Japan on holiday then."

  "Yeah, I know. Well, after the birthday dinner, a bunch of us decided to come here. Celebrate him finally becoming an adult and joining us in the loser's club, you know. We came here for a while."

  "Fancy."

  Dean looked thoughtful. "Eric Ou? The really short kid?"

  Camille cut him a scornful look. "He got taller. He's actually quite cute now."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah," she gushed. "Honestly, I had a tiny crush on him during the Michaelmas of Upper Sixth. You remember that, Salome?"

  "It was hardly a crush. It was more just him getting a glow up that summer. A year too late, I think. Most of the boys got glow-ups in the summer between Upper Fifth and Lower Sixth."

  "Better late than never."

  "That is true, that is true."

  Dean let out a laugh. "All of these kids you mention still look twelve in my memory, I must admit."

  "Too bad for you," Camille rebuffed, sticking out her tongue, fingers gliding over the black leather sofa. "I bet you looked twelve when you were in Upper Fifth too."

  "All boys did," he huffed. "I'm just saying."

  "What," I side eyed him, "you want us to show you the pictures of every full boarding kid in our year you knew now?"

  "I never said that," he pointed out.

  "So what was the point of saying that, then?"

  This was Dean Hui. Constantly speaking his mind, trying his best to act cool—and I must admit, most of the time, it worked. Maybe it was his looks: that cold, handsome face, the sharp features, the buzzcut. Tonight he dressed in all black—leather jacket, dark jeans, boots. Like I'd always joked to Camille, all he was missing was some tattoos and piercings. She'd always just snorted in return.

  Camille, on the other hand, looked far more colourful. Denim miniskirt with translucent black tights, pink baby-tee with a torn hem, her long, curled hair pulled together in a tight braid. She'd told me she'd just had her hair permed again a few days ago, since her old curls were straightening out.

  I'd gotten my hair done too. A light grey streak now ran down the side, almost reminding me of Rogue from X-Men. I liked it. A lot. I'd worn a black tank top today with narrow straps, but since it was winter, I'd added on a green knit bolero on top of it as sleeves, alongside a big top coat. Below, of course, were my favourite low-rise jeans alongside some comfortable sneakers.

  "Jesus Christ, I leave for five minutes and you've already all descended into a cold war?" Orion appeared from the stairs, somehow managing to balance the four drinks in his hand. He'd dressed up too—black shirt, the top few buttons unbuttoned, dark blue trousers and leather shoes. The glasses had been ditched. Unfortunate. I must admit, I far preferred him with glasses. Especially with this outfit. "Take yours, take yours. Before I drop them."

  "You've managed up the stairs," I drawled out, "I think you'll manage a few more milliseconds." But I stood up and plucked my cup of orange juice off his hand anyway, throwing my head back and taking a long sip.

  He was watching me when I finished, and I raised one brow. "What?"

  He shook his head. "Nothing."

  With a shrug, I sat back down. Orion tilted his head. "Everyone else still missing?"

  "It's a club," Camille pointed out. "Most people are doing something called dancing."

  "Clearly not us. Clearly something's wrong if Camille Tsang is staying off the dance floor."

  Camille jabbed a finger in the direction of the dancing clubbers. "I'm going to get squashed to death if I go down there and start dancing. There's no way this many people are supposed to be here."

  "Honestly," Dean snickered, "if not for the fact we have this booth, I'd never have stepped foot into this place."

  "Ah, because you're such a loner."

  "No, because there's enough people to start a small army crammed in this fucking place."

  "Slightly exaggerated but also kind of true," I agreed, burying my head into Camille's shoulder. "Cami..."

  "Shoo, get your face out of my hair." She gave me a slight shove, and I straightened with a scornful look in her direction. "Don't look at me like that, you love me."

  I grumbled. "And you treat me like this."

  "Oh, poor Salome," Dean cooed. "Camille, treat your bestie better before someone steals her."

  "Someone steals her?" Orion asked, amused.

  "Oh, you know. Like that Jeremiah Park boy."

  "He cannot steal me," I deadpanned. "I will not be stolen by a mere boy away from Cami here."

  "As one of those mere boys," Orion mused, "I express the utmost offence."

  In response, I stuck my tongue out at him.

  "It's true though!" Camille grinned, tossing her arm over my shoulders. "Besties for life."

  "No one can break us apart," I laughed in a sing-song voice.

  "Okay, on a more serious note though," Camille muttered, glancing around, "we should probably go dance. It doesn't look like the crowd will die down any time soon."

  "But Cami, it's so crowded."

  "We're here to have fun."

  "Well, someone needs to stay here and watch the bags."

  "Nah," Orion said. "Lance told me no one will come up here since it's a VIP booth. We'll be fine leaving the stuff here. I mean, we can brave the crowds now. It might even get worse later."

  I pulled a face. "Fine. Guess we're all being extroverted today, then."

  Camille punched me on the shoulder. "Hey, don't be like that."

  "Be like what?"

  Between laughs, we half-pushed each other down the stairs, making our way to the still crowded dance floor, trying to find a spot where we wouldn't be squashed to death. Cami had always been a menace on the dance floor—probably because she'd done dance for years when she was a kid, and she grabbed onto my hands, spinning me around despite my protests as the boys tapped their heads besides us and generally acted dumb and unsure what to do. Which was funny, so both Cami and I mocked them and they acted offended and everything was... nice.

  There were still far too many people and the loud music was starting to give me a headache, but for just a moment, nothing else mattered. I was out on a night out with my friends, having fun, enjoying life and our youth and making the best of every second and that was great. That was what I'd always dreamt of. For a moment, all my unrequited crushes and stress from school and everything else seemed to fade away. Nothing else seemed to matter.

  "You alright?" Orion's voice sent me back to reality, and I glanced at him, startled. Cami and Dean were screaming/bickering at each other besides us, their bodies still dancing while their mouths shot snarky remarks at each other, and Orion had come closer to me, brows creased.

  "The music's a bit loud," I told him truthfully, "but I'm fine! Don't worry about me."

  "You want to go back to the booth?"

  We'd only been here for a few minutes, though, and I told him as much.

  "Nah," he replied, shaking his head. "I don't mind. Let's get some drinks on the way back, yeah? You don't really look into it."

  I wasn't aware of that, but I nodded, and Orion leaned over to Dean to tell them we were going back upstairs. I wasn't even sure if they heard us, since they still looked so preoccupied arguing with each other over something I couldn't make out, but Orion tugged on my arm and I followed him towards the bar counter.

  I ordered a cup of water. Orion ordered some beverage I didn't hear the name of, but it looked fairly pretty.

  As we walked away, he flashed a smile towards me. "I might just take you up on your offer to get absolutely wasted, Salome."

  "I pity your head when you wake up tomorrow, then."

  "I'll survive. What's life without getting completely hammered once or twice, right?"

  "As someone who refuses to touch alcohol, I respectfully disagree."

  "Yeah. Don't do it. I mean, I'm going to go ahead with it anyways, but you shouldn't do it."

  "Ah, double standards, we love those."

  "You have really grown a mouth, haven't you, Salome Lam?"

  "I'll take that as a compliment." I shot him my sweetest smile. "Don't worry, get as wasted as you want. I'll find a way to bring you back home, Orion Ip."

  "For which I shall be eternally grateful."

  We were back in our booths, and I sat down, taking a few small sips of water. My phone chimed—a message from my mum, asking if I was okay. Quickly, I snapped a picture of Orion and sent it back to her, along with a message, 冇事！你哋先瞓！

  Everything's fine! You guys sleep first!

  My mum sent back an okay emoji.

  Orion was glancing at me, confused, when I looked back up. "What was that for?"

  "My mum," I explained. "Seemed easier to just send a picture of you then assure her I was alright with words."

  "Wow. Your parents trust me that much?"

  "They watched you grow up," I said with a shrug. "They trust you with their lives. They think you're the best boy to ever exist in this world, probably. I mean, I've only ever heard them sing your praises."

  "They think so highly of me. Well, to be fair, my parents think very highly of you too."

  "I can tell."

  "Mhm. When we were younger, they told me I should marry you someday."

  And then my mind went blank. Because, well, when the boy you've had a crush on for thirteen years of your life suddenly said that, what were you meant to respond? I felt my cheeks heating up, and even though he'd meant it like an offhand comment, he didn't know it meant far more to me. Far, far more. That I couldn't say, that I couldn't reveal.

  "Yeah, no."

  "What, is marrying me such a horrendous thing to think about?"

  "Orion! We've known each other since we were babies."

  "You were five and I was seven. Not babies."

  "What, are you saying you want to marry me?"

  I was playing with fire here. Absolutely walking on knives and tightrope. One wrong word and he'd have to be able to see. He already had hints of it, I was sure. Even if he'd never noticed, surely Dean might have seen some signs of it by now? Friends were usually far better at noticing things like these than the person involved themselves, and surely Dean would have at least joked about it, knowing him.

  "I mean..." he drew out the sentence intentionally, feigning thoughtfulness. "It wouldn't be an absolutely awful thing."

  My jaw dropped. "Are you flirting with me, Orion Ip?"

  "What, you don't like it?"

  "Orion." I didn't not like it, but if this was just a game to him, then I'd much rather he didn't start at all. My feelings would not survive being toyed with like this.

  Maybe he saw the change in my expression. Maybe he saw, the moment fear and doubt started creeping up my veins, because he leaned forward and frowned. "Are you sure you're alright, Salome?"

  "Yeah," I told him, blinking, slightly nonplussed. "Are you alright?"

  He sat back, shaking his head. "Must be the alcohol."

  "Oh. Okay." What else was I supposed to say? I turned away, leaning backwards, putting down my cup on the table—I trusted Orion enough for that. "Fuck, this is starting to get boring."

  "I mean, if you want to head back..."

  "No, no, no," I assured, "not before you get absolutely wasted like you want to, Mr Ip."

  He huffed. "I mean, I can get wasted anywhere."

  "But where else would you have me to carry you back home, hmm?" I wrinkled my nose, sending him a look.

  He shifted closer on the long sofa, one arm snaking on the top of the sofa where my head half-laid, the other on his lap. Glancing past me and down the railings at the clubbers below, he suddenly blinked. "Is that Dean and Camille?"

  My gaze followed his, and I spotted our friends where we'd been moments before, but now dancing peacefully together. Cami's hands were wrapped around Dean's shoulders, and Dean's around Camille's waist. I stared for a long moment, and then tore my gaze away.

  "I'm not even going to question it."

  "I think that's the best option," he snickered. "So, if those two start—"

  "No, no, no, do not even... do not even suggest it. But... he is kind of her type."

  "Oh Jesus fucking Christ."

  "The thought is incorrigible."

  "I agree," he hissed. "Let's pretend we never saw that." His hand suddenly pushed my face towards him, away from the rails, away from our dancing friends underneath. "Nope, not looking in that direction anymore."

  Now forced to stare at him, I met his eye, slightly stunned. After a moment, he seemed to realise the position we were now in, and quickly released his hand, shifting a few inches away. "Uh, yeah. We don't talk about that."

  I wasn't sure what he was referring to. What happened just now, or what was going on with Dean and Camille. But either way, I just nodded, struck dumb. And I wasn't someone who was particularly easily struck dumb. I tended to avoid that at all costs. But, well, like I'd realised again and again, over and over to no avail, the rules I usually lived by all disappeared when I was with Orion Hong.

  What could I do about it? There was no easy cure, no easy way out.

  We'd both fallen quiet, not a word between us as Lance and Savannah came back upstairs. Lance noticed us sitting there in silence and quickly walked over. "Yo, you guys okay? We boring you?"

  I glanced up, flashing a smile. "No, no, I'm just a bit tired. Resting, that's all. Don't worry about it. You guys had fun?"

  "Yeah." Savannah glanced around, as if noting the absence of Camille. "Everyone else still dancing?"

  "Yeah," Orion snickered. "Dean's getting busy. But let's not talk about it in front of him. Just speculation so far."

  I knew why he'd said that. We'd all sensed Savannah's dislike of Cami, and we all knew it was because Lance seemed to be somewhat interested in her, or at least spent a bit more time than Savannah was probably comfortable with a few months back. Camille was avoiding that now, but Orion was saying that so that Savannah might lower her hostility. By putting Dean and Cami together in a group. By suggesting there was something between them.

  I wasn't sure how right it was, but I didn't think Cami would necessarily mind either. She had nothing against Savannah, and probably wanted this whole misunderstanding over with sooner than later anyways.

  "Huh," Savannah said thoughtfully, tilting her head. "Well, rest for a bit more, and then hit the dance floor again, guys. We didn't come here just for you two to sit here and sulk."

  Wistfully, I said, "Sulking by yourself at a bar is far nicer than you think. The vibes are immaculate here for sulking."

  Lance snorted. "I highly doubt that's the point of a club, Miss Lam."

  I shrugged. "Hey, it's just what I like to do."

  Lance chuckled. He was fairly easygoing, if a bit oblivious to his girlfriend's feelings every once in a while. Whether that was truthful or feigned, I wasn't sure. I didn't know him well enough for that. But I trusted both Orion and Livia, and both seemed to be alright with him, so he couldn't be that bad of a person either.

  But their return was a welcomed one. Orion and me sitting here was just starting to get a bit unbearably awkward. I was grateful, very grateful that they'd come back.

  But my god was that sad to realise, sitting there in the club, less than a metre away from the boy who still managed to keep breaking my heart, only one floor away from crowds of happy, dancing people enjoying their night away.

  I wanted Cami, for fuck's sake.

  I stood up. "I'm going to go dance for a little bit, I think. Maybe I'll find some of the others."

  Orion glanced at me, but he said nothing. Savannah offered to come with me, saying that she was about to go back dancing after a small break anyways, but I rejected her offer. "Nah, you take a break first. You can find us easily from up here anyways."

  No one said anything as I made my way down the stairs.