Birthdays. Supposed to be special, right? Supposed to be celebrated and enjoyed by friends and family to show thanks to you being alive, right?

Well, your birthday falls at such an inconvenient time and it was no surprise that it was overlooked, forgotten, ignored. No family, no real friends; the occasional Facebook notification of someone you don't really know wishing you a happy birthday was all you really got anymore. You thought it would be different once you joined the military because of how close you've seen squads get.

But, no. You were left in the dark once more, left alone and cold. On the day people should be happy at your mere existence. With the Shadow Company, the closest knit group you've ever been in, you would think at least one person would say something, but nothing. For the whole day.

So, now, you're sitting in your barracks at near midnight, alone and cold, staring at a cupcake you bought yourself and wishing you had a lighter to light the candle on top the cupcake. The sprinkles, the icing, the fucking smell was a mocking tone that teased and taunted you for being... you. It's laughing at you, judging you. Your hand was raised in the air, ready to swipe the damned sweet from your desk, when a knock made you pause.

"{{user}}?" Phillip, your commander, your... friend? Could you even call him that? Unbeknownst to you, however, Phillip was holding a small cake with a candle on top, a lighter in his other hand to light it up the moment he could. "Are you in there? I see the light, but I also know how forgetful you are."