Yuhan's POV — The Birthday I Didn't Expect
I woke up knowing.
You just know on your birthday.
There's this quiet excitement, even when you pretend there isn't.
I went to school like any other day.
No wishes.
No awkward singing.
No Samar yelling.
No Neel oversharing.
Nothing.
I told myself it was fine. People forget. It happens.
I laughed when I was supposed to laugh. Joined the chaos. Survived teachers. Watched Samar and Neel turn every class into a circus. Even answered questions like a normal day.
But somewhere between periods, it settled in.
Oh.
They forgot.
By the time school ended, I'd made peace with it. Or at least, I thought I had.
We walked out together. Same route. Same noise.
I was already planning how I'd go home, maybe order something small, tell myself birthdays weren't a big deal anyway.
Then Samar stopped walking.
"Wait," he said casually. "Let's go this way."
Neel nodded too fast. "Yeah. Shortcut."
I frowned. "This isn't—"
Kabir gently steered me forward. "Just come."
The café lights came into view.
And then—
I saw it.
Big. Bright. Impossible to miss.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUHAN
For a second, my brain didn't process it.
Then they jumped out.
Singing. Loud. Off-key. Zero shame.
People in the café turned. Someone clapped. Someone laughed.
I stood there, frozen.
Samar yelled, "SURPRISEEE!"
I think I smiled. I think I laughed. I know my chest felt too full.
They pulled me inside, shoved me toward a chair, and suddenly there was cake, noise, hands on my shoulders.
Samar went first with gifts.
He handed me… a steel fork.
I stared.
He held it like it was sacred. "This," he said seriously, "is a lifetime investment. You will eat with it. You will survive with it. When everything fails—you'll still have this fork."
I laughed. Really laughed.
Neel shoved his gift next.
I opened it.
Underwear.
I blinked. Looked up.
Neel grinned. "Most wanted gift. Don't act surprised."
Rhea had turned away, laughing so hard she couldn't even look at me. I quickly shoved it back into the bag before the world could end.
Then Kabir handed me his gift.
Books.
The exact kind I liked. Authors I followed. Topics I'd mentioned once, maybe twice.
He didn't say much. Just, "I thought you'd like these."
I did. More than he knew.
Then Rhea stepped forward.
She gave me a shirt.
Simple. Beautiful. Clearly expensive.
She said softly, "My brother approved it."
I smiled. "That explains why it looks good."
Before I could say more—
Her brother appeared. Out of nowhere. Like destiny with bad timing.
He slung an arm around her shoulder and announced, "I'm paying."
Everyone protested. He ignored us.
Yelled for snacks. Drinks. More cake.
And just like that—
I realized something.
I hadn't just had a birthday.
I'd found something I didn't know I was missing.
Friends who remembered.
Friends who planned.
Friends who embarrassed you publicly and stayed anyway.
As I looked around—at their faces, their chaos, their ridiculous gifts—I felt it.
I was happy.
Truly.
And for the first time in a long time, I was glad I wasn't alone.
Yuhan's POV — After the Noise, At Home
I thought the best part of my birthday was already over.
I was wrong.
By the time we reached my house, the chaos followed us in like it owned the place.
Shoes everywhere. Voices overlapping. Laughter bouncing off walls that were used to being quiet.
My parents stood there for a moment—watching.
Curious. A little stunned.
Samar had already made himself comfortable with my dad.
"Uncle," he said seriously, "Yuhan is very disciplined. We are the problem."
Neel nodded. "Yes, sir. Bad influence. But premium quality bad influence."
My dad laughed. Actually laughed.
And just like that—they were talking like old friends.
Samar was explaining school politics.
Neel was exaggerating everything.
My dad was shaking his head, amused, asking questions like he genuinely cared.
I watched from the side, smiling without realizing it.
In the kitchen, my mom and Rhea were talking.
Soft voices. Easy smiles.
"She eats like this every day?" my mom asked, amused.
Rhea laughed. "Only when stressed. Which is… always."
My mom touched her arm gently. "She's good company."
Rhea smiled in that shy, honest way she has.
In the living room, Kabir stood beside me, arms crossed.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded. "More than okay."
Our eyes drifted—almost automatically—to where Rhea was laughing with my mom.
Kabir didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.
We both knew what we were seeing.
People who fit.
Moments that felt right.
Later, when everyone was talking over each other, my mom came and sat beside me.
She looked around the room. At the noise. The warmth.
"You found very good friends," she said quietly.
My dad nodded from across the room. "Very heartfelt ones."
I swallowed.
Because they didn't know—
how rare this was for me.
how long it took.
That day had been full. Loud. Ridiculous.
But now—
sitting there, surrounded by people who stayed, who joked with my parents, who filled my house with life—
I felt something settle deep inside me.
Contentment.
Joy.
The kind that doesn't shout.
Just stays.