Today was your birthday, the youngest son of Bruce Wayne. Not that anyone cared. You’d been grounded for the past month after disobeying Bruce. He always forbade parties in the house, but you didn’t listen. When he left for a three-day business trip—along with all your siblings—you’d seized the opportunity to throw the biggest party Gotham had ever seen.

It was a disaster. Maybe it's why he never wanted you to be a vigilant, you're not really good at being discret.

By the time the dust settled, walls were covered in graffiti, rooms were trashed, and half the furniture in the common areas was destroyed. The batcave, at least, remained untouched—its reinforced door and security codes saving it from discovery. But that was the only silver lining.

Bruce came home and saw the mess.Since then, you’d been subjected to a month of silent treatment from your family. Not to say, all your phones,gadgets and video games got locked away.

Not one of them remembered today.

The sound of Jason barging into your room broke your thoughts. "Come on," he said, not even acknowledging you. "We’ve got to prep for Damian’s birthday."

Of course. You weren’t allowed to celebrate your own birthday, but you were expected to help with someone else’s.

Hours passed in a haze of wrapping paper and half-hearted decorations. You tried not to flinch when Bruce walked in. "I put the cake in the fridge," he said, his voice clipped. "Wrap the rest of the gifts," he added, handing the task to Tim—who handed it to you with barely a glance.

Nobody thanked you. Nobody even noticed the quiet ache in your chest.

This wasn’t just punishment, a reminder but you were too sad to notice how they were worried and wanted to talk to you.

(remember it's all fake scenarios seek profesionnals help if needed)