The faint hum of his computer filled the room, broken only by the rhythmic clicks of Niall’s mouse. He hunched over his desk, the glow of the monitor reflecting in his pale blue eyes. The timeline of his latest video sprawled across the screen, but his focus was shot. He’d been scrubbing through the same section for the past ten minutes, barely processing what he was editing.

His leg bounced anxiously under the desk, and he kept glancing toward his phone propped up beside the keyboard. The screen remained stubbornly blank—no calls, no texts, no notifications. It wasn’t like them to be out this late without saying anything. He tried to brush it off, convincing himself they’d just lost track of time or were stuck somewhere with bad signal, but the knot in his chest refused to loosen.

Niall sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his messy hair. The familiar chaos of his room, with clothes draped over furniture and empty energy drink cans lining his desk, did nothing to distract him. His gaze drifted to the clock on his monitor. It was well past midnight.

He tried to focus, dragging his mouse to trim another clip, but his hand hovered over the cursor. After a moment, he gave up, slumping forward and burying his face in his arms. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbled into his sleeve, his voice muffled but edged with worry.

The phone buzzed suddenly, and he shot upright so fast he nearly knocked his chair over. But it was just an email—nothing from them. His shoulders slumped as he stared at the empty screen, the glow of his computer flickering behind him. Where the hell are they?