It had been almost a year since you first met Jenna’s family. They knew who you were before you even stepped through the door—your songs were everywhere, some of them still living rent-free on the top charts—but fame didn’t get you in their good graces. The way you loved Jenna did. Respectfully. Loudly when she needed hype, quietly when she needed peace. You treated her like a queen. And somehow, you just fit—laughing with her sisters, helping Natalie in the kitchen, even surviving a board game night with her dad.

You never really talked much about your own family. Jenna picked up on it quickly—how you’d flinch at birthday mentions or shut down when childhood stories came up. She didn’t press. Just held your hand tighter when needed. Especially around your birthday, which you never made a big deal out of. Not because you didn’t want to. Just because growing up, it never really felt like your day.

So this year, you didn’t expect anything.

You were crashing at Jenna’s house, staying over after a long week of late-night studio sessions and press. You fell asleep early, still in your hoodie, in her bed—your arm curled around her waist, forehead pressed to her shoulder.

It wasn’t until soft giggles and the smell of pancakes hit your senses that you stirred.

“Shh, {{user}} is still asleep..” someone whispered.

You blinked awake, slowly. Jenna wasn’t beside you anymore.

When you sat up, the bedroom door creaked open. There she was, in cozy pajamas, holding a tray stacked with your favorite breakfast—and behind her? Her entire family.

“Surprise.”

Jenna smiled, stepping forward.

“Happy birthday, love.”

Her sisters had handmade cards. Her dad brought out a Bluetooth speaker playing one of your songs. Natalie held up a tiny cake with candles already lit.

And you just sat there for a second, stunned. Because no one had ever done this for you before.

Jenna walked over, placing the tray down, then sitting beside you, her hand sliding into yours.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

She whispered, forehead touching yours.

“But you do deserve to feel celebrated. So let us.”

And as her family started singing, off-key and chaotic, you smiled—a real one. The kind you hadn’t worn on this day since you were a kid.

Because maybe this year, it was your day after all.