"Pink or blue?" I ask, showing the girls a playsuit online.

"Blue!" Mary says.

"I agree, your boobs will be banging in that," Aretta says.

"Pfft," I scoff. "My boobs are always banging."

"That's true. How did you get them so perky, girl?" Aretta jokes.

"Ooh, there ain't no other way!" I sing. "Baby, I was born this way!"

Mary shakes her head at me, struggling to keep her smile hidden.

"At least you have boobs," she scoffs.

"Girl, you're hot as hell!" Aretta says.

"Boobs are torture," I snicker. "They hurt so much."

"Hashtag, can't relate," Mary laughs, turning to me. "Do we have any more alcohol?"

"Can we UberEats alcohol?" I ask.

"Postmates!" Aretta suggests. But we still have more vodka."

"I'll take the vodka, thank you," I grin.

We've been hanging out in the lounge room all night, drinking and laughing about everything and then some.

Mary only just showed her face. She'd been upstairs with Liam, all day, unsurprisingly. Even while Alex and Kal were here for dinner, they stayed locked up in her room. I expected them to stay there all night, but Liam had a date at the gym with the other boys.

He didn't use the word date. That was my personal touch.

I sip at my drink, feeling the taste of the raspberry vodka tingling my throat. I love alcohol. I love vodka. I love raspberries.

"Do we have any beer?" Mary asks.

"I don't think so," I say.

"I can't believe you don't drink," Mary tells Aretta, pulling out her phone to bring us more beer.

"You know it's against my religion."

"Do you guys celebrate Christmas?

"I've actually wondered about this," I say.

"Guys!" Aretta grumbles. "Do more research!"

"You're right, you're right," I agree.

"But, no,"Aretta says. "We have different holidays."

"Ramadan was wild," Mary says. "I can't believe how you survived without food all day."

"I know right," I laugh. "I need my snacks."

"I can't believe this," Aretta grumbles. "Did you guys have religious studies in high school?"

"Only about Christianity," I say. "In middle school."

"Yeah, it was the worst," Mary groans. "We should focus on other religions, too."

"Exactly! Did you know, when I tell people I'm Muslim, they think I'm from the Middle East. My parents are Indian, and I was born in America," Aretta rants. "And don't even get me started on their annoying questions about hijabs!"

"Have you ever worn a hijab?" Mary asks.

"No, but it shouldn't matter either way. It doesn't make me more or less of a Muslim!"

"I'm sorry, girl," I say. "You shouldn't have to deal with that shit."

"Ugh, it's okay, we all have our struggles."

"My only disadvantage is my gender," I say.

It's true. Mary is Latina, and faces discrimination as well, but not me. I'm more privileged than both of them.

"Hey look," Ari says, pointing at the TV.

I follow her eyes, and find a video of the four boys playing on the news. It's the press conference where they announced their return to Florida. Before we've taken the sound off mute, the Ferrari Freight spokesperson replaces Oliver at the microphone.

It's unbelievable how they need to announce their move to the whole world.

"Damn, my man looks so sexy," Mary grins.

"Ugh, gross," I grimace.

"Oliver is way cuter in person," Ari says. "He looks almost aggressive in the media."

"He's damn sexy, but personally, I think Liam is hotter," Mary teases.

"I like Alex the best," Ari smirks. "Those muscles just get my juices flowing."

"That's how I feel about Kaleem," I smile. "He's so fucking hot, but I liked hit dreads better."

"You don't feel that way about Ollie?" Mary asks.

I scoff. "Do you mean he-who-shall-not-be-named?"

"I can't believe you're still mad at him after all this time," Ari laughs. "But, on the other hand, I get it."

"He's the devil!" I defend.

"Yeah, girl, he should've handled things better," Mary says.

"Exactly! Like, I could've dealt with the heartbreak, but this... just... ugh."

Oliver and I were in love when he moved away. Madly in love.

He wasn't the one to tell me about them, though. It was his father, Stefan Ferrari. Through an email. An email he sent as an apology for accusing me of 'distracting his son from his job'. He had attached a plane ticket to the email, a ticket to Milan.

I was around the whole group when the email arrived, so I instantly asked Oliver about it.

Turns out, everyone in the group knew they were moving. Oliver claimed he didn't know how to tell me, but I wasn't having any of it. I was furious.

I didn't speak to any of the boys for the rest of the day. I cried all night. I felt so hurt and betrayed. Suddenly, my friends, my brother, and my boyfriend were moving to the other side of the world, and not even my best friend told me about it.

The next morning, I was still hurt, but I was ready to talk about it. I didn't know when they'd be leaving, but I figured we could make the best out of the time we had left.

My phone was flooded with missed calls from Oliver, but when I called him back, he didn't pick up. I tried him over and over again, but got nowhere. That wasn't like him. He'd never missed a call from me before. He always had his phone on him.

When I walked into Liam's room to speak to him, I found his room empty, bar a single note addressed to me.

He was gone.

Naturally, I stole his car. I called both him and Ollie as I drove to Ollie's place without a license. Neither of them answered. When I reached Ollie's house, I rummaged through his entire place, yelling his name, and pulling open all the doors I could. He wasn't there.

The first few months without him were the hardest. I was so in love with him. I'd send him emails, physical post, anything to get him to speak to me. He refused. I felt so guilty, but it soon shifted to anger. I was ready to move on. We could've gone long distance like Mary and Liam, but he blatantly ignored me. I was willing to try. He wasn't.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

The Ferrari's are not just business owners. They're celebrities. They're one of the richest families in the US, and have no problem showing it. Mansions, fancy cars, jet planes, you name it, and the Ferrari's have it. Naturally, the press is obsessed with him. And now, since they learned how attractive all the boys are, and both their financial, business and social status, they are also included in the media.

I had no problem keeping up with them while they were away. E-News reports on them regularly. I can confirm, they partied for more then I would've expected. The first time I saw a picture of Oliver with another girl, I cried all night.

That was the worst part. Models, actresses, you name it. They'd be photographed in clubs together, drinking, partying, taking all kinds of drugs. All the while, I was in Miami, trying to get his attention.

It felt like our entire relationship was meaningless.