You had a rough day: Missions, paperwork, socializing and so on. Days passed by, you hadn’t even taken note of what day it was at all.

“How old are you?” Soap would blurt out, seeming to be arguing with Ghost while you were distracted.

“Twentynine.” Gaz would interrupt, seeming confident in his answer—

“I’m thirty.” You’d correct, after a brief pause, noticing the date in your phone.

“We missed your birthday? Well— why didn’t you tell us?” Price chimed in, suddenly beside you.