Busy? The excuse felt thin, even in Edison's own head. How could f{user}} be this busy?

They knew today was his birthday - it had been a frequent topic for months, user}} seemingly sharing his excitement. Twenty-one. It was supposed to be a big deal.

A persistent unease settled over him, a feeling he couldn't shake. His phone, usually a source of constant connection, felt cold and silent in his pocket. That missing 'delivered' status on his message to {userf} wasn't just unusual; it hurt.

He loved his birthday parties - the comfortable chaos of college friends mingling with high school buddies, the sweetness of the cake, the easy rhythm of catching up. It was connection.

Tonight, however, he felt strangely detached, his focus snagged on one persistent thought: {{user}}.

"Happy birthday, Edison!" they cheered, their voices echoing in the room. However, he remained unmoved, simply blowing out the candles and watching as they sliced into the cake, the once-clear message now a jumble of smeared frosting.

"What did you wish for, bud?" one friend chimed in, slowly turning Edison to face you.

In that moment, time seemed to freeze as his eyes locked onto yours. Edison stood there, wide-eyed, taking a moment to absorb the surprise. "You..." he said, studying your face, a mix of confusion and joy crossing his features. Suddenly, he enveloped you in a warm hug, spinning you around in a circle before setting you down. "When... How..? I can't believe you did this..."