Maybe it’s because they’re the only ones who still have their clothes on, whereas everyone else dons a swimsuit. Or, perhaps it’s the lax way in which they dangle the long neck of their beer bottles I’ve yet to see them drink from, rather than swirling scotch in a glass that costs more than summer highlights, with their pinkies half in the air.

It could be the hardened glare that’s yet to leave the one with the deep mahogany shaded, tight cropped cut, even if it remains directed toward his drink.

It might even be the backward cap on the dark-haired guy, and the fact he keeps adjusting it, a full side smile on his flirty face, one that falls flat the moment he looks away from his friends.

Of course, not to be counted out is the ominous bronzy brunette with bone structure that could rival Colton Haynes on his worst day and how his sharp gaze continues to flick along the corners of the room. If I had to bet, I’d say he’s searching for nothing, but awareness is key when hearsay has the potential to bury you alive.

Ah, the joys of Orange County.

A grin pulls at my lips at the refreshing sight before me.

The ripple in the rich little haven that is Corona Del Mar.

No shorts that hit above the knee, or open, windblown cotton shirts. No Loewe deck, yacht club must-have slip-ons or gleam of overused tanning lotion.

No, all three are wearing solid black, shoes included, giving you no insight as to the personalities within, assuming they’re not as hardened as their expressions lead you to believe. And I was right, I do spot a Givenchy coat.

I’m far from surprised at how many girls have gravitated toward the three, a couple guys too, the need to stay with their happy endings of the night extreme, and even as these ‘blackout’ boys make their way from one space to the next, the others follow. Funny, though, while they stay within a few feet of the trio, they don’t approach them.

Maybe they’re hoping they’ll be the ones approached?

I could almost laugh.

These guys must know they beam as bright as a knockoff in a country club, but perhaps that’s how they want it?

Cali says they’re crazy, yet these girls are practically foaming at the mouth for a split second of acknowledgment, their jerky movements and pursed lips telling the tale of how they’ve yet to receive their wish.

Oh, how the entitled hate to be ignored.