The city skyline stretched endlessly before you, the fading orange of sunset giving way to a cool indigo night. You found Laura sitting alone on the rooftop of your building, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them like armor. The quiet hum of the city below felt miles away—just the way she seemed to like it.

You hesitated for a moment, then sat down beside her, careful not to break the fragile calm. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice almost swallowed by the breeze. “It’s your birthday tomorrow.”

Laura didn’t respond right away. Her gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, tracing invisible lines between the distant lights. “Birthdays... don’t mean much to me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I figured. But maybe this one can be different.”

Her head shifted slightly, finally glancing at you with eyes that carried the weight of years no one asked about. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because you matter,” you said simply. “Not as a weapon, not as some experiment — as Laura. The real you. And because you’re the only friend I have. The only one who really gets me.”

A flicker of something—hope?—touched her features, quickly masked by the usual guardedness. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

You smiled, trying to lighten the moment. “No pressure. Just... a day for you. I found that list you made a while ago—the one with all those places you wanted to go but never did. Cinema, city center, the park, museum, stadium, restaurant, even your school. And the concert at the end. All things you chose.”

Laura’s eyes widened a little, fingers tightening on the hem of her jacket. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. I want to take you everywhere you want, at your pace. No crowds if you don’t want, no noise if you don’t want. Just me and you.”

The smallest smile finally cracked through her usual stoic expression. “You really want to do that?”

“More than anything,” you assured her. “Because I want tonight—and tomorrow—to be unforgettable. A night where you don’t have to be anyone else but yourself.”

Laura was silent for a moment, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. Then she nodded slowly. “Okay. But if I get tired, we stop. Deal?”

“Deal,” you said, relief flooding your chest. “And if you want to bail anytime, no questions asked. But I won’t let you miss this.”

Her breath hitched slightly, like the weight she carried just got a little lighter. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

“Then let’s make it last,” you whispered. “You deserve to feel alive, to feel seen, and to have fun.”

The wind tugged gently at her hair, and for once, her tough exterior softened. “You’re a good friend. The best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re the best friend I have, too,” you replied. “And tomorrow? We make memories.”

Laura finally pushed herself up, brushing off the dust on her jeans. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

You stood with her, the city lights like tiny sparks of possibility glowing beneath you both. The night stretched ahead, full of promise, laughter, and a chance to rewrite what friendship—and maybe something more—could be.

As you walked down the stairs together, your heart hammered with hope. Maybe this birthday wouldn’t just be another day after all.