What Was Lost

Chapter 6

Grace's face contorts into a frown as she shoves her phone into her purse. "Nope," she declares, clearly dissatisfied. Her stomach churns with unease at his words, threatening to spill its contents at any moment. The urge to cry creeps up on her, but she pushes it back, determined not to let this get to her. Rising from the table forcefully, she announces to her friends that she's going to dance.

The dj had started playing at some point during their conversations and Grace didn't recognize the unfamiliar songs blaring through the speakers. It doesn't matter to her though; all she wants is to lose herself in the music and forget about everything else. She knows there's a song about crying in the club and she refuses to let it become her reality. Making her way through the crowd with determination, Grace finds herself at the center of the dance floor. Her eyes closed and head tilted back, she lets the thumping beat take over her body. At this moment, she doesn't care how it looks or what anyone thinks. She just wants to merge with the music and escape from her troubles, even if only for a little while.

She loses track of time as she dances under the pulsing lights and music, her skin becoming slick with sweat. A guy begins pestering her, his hands extended attempting to grope. Taking that as her cue to leave, she makes her way back to the table. Meanwhile, Prisha and Tori had joined in on the dancing, leaving Anya alone at the table. Anya's fingers flew over her phone screen as she typed furiously, engrossed in a conversation with Will like she always seemed to be. Grace slid into the booth next to her, fanning herself with her hand and sipping on some ice-cold water. As she pulled out her phone to check for any missed messages, she noticed several texts from Logan and even a missed call. With a sigh, she dropped her phone back into her purse without reading them. She didn't want to deal with the guy who had once told her she had "haunted eyes." It was such a cruel thing to say to someone.

As her gaze scans the crowded bar, she catches a glimpse of him. His tall form is standing by the bar next to his brother, Nick, who is pointing towards their table. Logan's eyes sweep over the room before locking onto hers. With lifted eyebrows and a determined expression, he makes his way towards her. His outfit exudes a rebellious charm - a knit cap atop his head, a dark t-shirt hugging his muscular frame, and a leather jacket paired with torn jeans. He looks every bit the bad boy that she suspects he is. Her heart races as he approaches her table.

"Hey," he calls out above the noise of the bar. "You weren't answering your phone."

"I know," she responds, crossing her arms in front of her with an obstinate expression on her face.

He licks his lips, the nervous gesture betraying his cool demeanor as he gives Anya a quick head nod in greeting. She looks up from her phone, her mouth tilting into a knowing smirk.

"Can we talk?" He asks, desperation evident in his voice. "We are," she gestures with a small wave of her hand.

But he closes his eyes briefly, frustration and determination clear on his face. "Over there," he tilts his head towards the back of the bar where the restrooms are. "Or outside. I don't give a fuck as long as I don't have to continue shouting."

Anya studies him for a moment, noticing the tense set of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. It's obvious that he won't simply let this go after showing up here. She lets out a sigh, sliding out of the booth.

"I'll be back," she tells Anya, grabbing her purse and following him through the crowded bar. The dim lighting and pulsing music create an atmosphere that matches her conflicted feelings about this unexpected encounter.

With confident strides, he leads her towards the end of the hallway where a door marked "Bathrooms" stands. Away from the clamor and chatter of the party, he guides her to an exit door. She crosses her arms, impatiently tapping her foot as she looks up at him expectantly.