The clock read 12:03 AM, and the dull glow of your phone screen lit up your side of the room. You lay curled under your blanket, the faint static of your call with Joshua humming in the silence. It was his voice that filled the space, the soft rasp of his late-night tone as comforting as it was distant.

“I wish my birthday was special too,” you sighed, your words slipping out more vulnerable than you intended. The weight of the day had been pressing, and though you'd tried to brush it off, it clung to you like fog.

A pause. Then his voice, quiet but certain: “Maybe it is, for someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, not because of the words but because of how they sounded coming from him. Not rushed. Not thrown away. Just steady, like a truth he believed in more than you did.

You didn’t respond, biting your lip to keep the sudden rush of emotion at bay.

“I mean it,” Joshua added, his tone softer now. “You don’t always know the difference you make, you know? Maybe you won’t ever know. But... someone out there, right now, is grateful for you. For today. Because you’re here.”

It was hard to find words, your throat tightening, and all you could manage was a quiet, “Thanks.”

The line went quiet for a moment, just the sound of breaths and the occasional crackle of the connection.

After a few beats, Joshua spoke again, his voice laced with a hint of hesitation. “I—uh, I should let you sleep. But... if you want, I can stay on the line. Just until you drift off.”

You let out a small laugh. “Won’t you fall asleep too?”

“Maybe. But it wouldn’t be the worst way to end the night.”

Joshua stared at his phone, the call log blinking back at him. His thumb hovered for a moment before he typed the numbers from your birthdate into his lock screen. The phone unlocked with a soft click.

“Special,” he murmured to himself, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he set the phone down. “She doesn’t even realise.”