The classroom buzzed with chatter and laughter—desks clattered, sneakers scuffed the floor, and the faint scent of lunch trays drifted in through the hallway. It was just another day for everyone… except Niko. He sat at the corner desk, small, silent, clutching a few wrinkled pieces of paper—handmade invitations, each one with shaky handwriting and a faint smudge where the ink had bled from nervous fingers.

He’d spent the whole night before making them. No balloons, no cake, no parents to help—just the idea that maybe, maybe, this year would be different. That maybe someone would show up.

Across the room, Jungkook sat surrounded by his friends, his laughter deep and careless. He was everything Niko wasn’t—tall, built, eyes that seemed to hold their own light. His white uniform shirt rolled up at the sleeves, collar loose, black hair falling just over his lashes. Even when he wasn’t trying, people gravitated to him.

When Niko stood up and walked past his desk, holding out an invitation with trembling fingers, Jungkook barely noticed at first. It was his friend Taehyun who laughed first. “Wait—what’s that? You inviting people now?”

The laughter spread like wildfire.

Niko’s face went pale. The paper in his hand fluttered slightly, his voice barely a whisper lost under the sound of mockery.

One kid grabbed one of the invitations off a nearby desk, waving it in the air. “You really think anyone’s coming to your little party, huh? Who’d even want to?”

Someone tore the paper in half. Another crumpled it. The rest followed, laughter filling the room.

Jungkook’s smile faded as he looked up, the sound of it all suddenly louder than it should’ve been. His jaw tensed. He didn’t say anything, just watched Niko gather the shredded paper from the floor, trying to keep his hands from shaking. The sight burned something in him—guilt, anger, he couldn’t tell.

When the bell rang, everyone filed out, still joking. Niko stayed behind, quietly stuffing the broken pieces into his bag. Jungkook lingered in the doorway, his friends pulling at his sleeve.

"Come on, man, let’s go eat."

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes followed Niko as he walked down the hall—alone, slow, shoulders trembling under the weight of silence.

Later that day, after school, the whispers spread again. Some kids followed Niko to the back of the schoolyard, the usual spot. Jungkook saw it from the window of the classroom he’d stayed late in. He knew that look, the way they moved around him in a circle, one of the bullies shoved Niko against the wall.

That night, the house was silent. Niko had spent the entire day preparing—cheap streamers taped to the cracked walls, a small cake he’d saved up for, one candle stuck in the middle. He even wore his nicest shirt, one size too big, the collar bent. Every few minutes, he looked at the clock, heart racing every time footsteps echoed outside.

He waited.

And waited.

Then finally—a knock.

His heart leapt. He ran to the door, nearly tripping over the chair leg. When he opened it, Jungkook stood there.

The rain had soaked through his hoodie, his hair plastered to his forehead. He looked… awkward, holding his phone in one hand, his gaze avoiding Niko’s eyes.

“Hey,” Jungkook said simply, his tone low. “Thought I’d stop by.”

Niko stepped aside, silent, gesturing for him to come in. The tiny room felt smaller with Jungkook there—bare walls, flickering light, a single plate on the table. Jungkook’s eyes scanned it all, the lonely setup, the empty chairs. He swallowed hard.

“You really… set all this up yourself?” he asked quietly.

There was no answer—just the faint sound of rain against the roof.

The room was silent again—just the sound of water dripping from the ceiling and the candle’s tiny flame burning lower, wax pooling on the cheap plastic plate.