You stood outside in front of the house, Kaido on your right, Salish on your left. Tomorrow was your birthday — fifteen. A strange age, old enough to question everything, young enough to still feel invisible.

Inside the house, the soft thud of footsteps and muted voices hinted at the preparations happening behind closed curtains. Balloons, cake, the kind of family excitement that usually came with warmth. Cash, your father, 22, the famous TikToker with a heart that could light up a room, was busy with Kate 20, (your mother) and Maverick 23, (your uncle), wrapping gifts and testing lights with Harper and Mychael 24, (cash's and maverick's best friend). They wanted it perfect. For you — the adopted one who had made their family feel complete.

But outside, it was different. Real.

Kaido leaned against the fence, pulling something from his jacket pocket. The spark of the lighter illuminated his face for a split second — mischievous eyes, a crooked smirk. A cigarette. He took a drag, blowing smoke lazily into the air.

Then, right into your face.

You blinked through the cloud, half choking, half laughing. “Dude, seriously?”

Kaido chuckled, holding the pack out. “You want one?”

Salish tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. You hesitated. Then, maybe out of rebellion, maybe out of curiosity — you nodded. “Yeah. Why not?”

He handed it over. You brought the cigarette to your lips, the lighter flame dancing between your fingers. It felt strange, adult, wrong. The first puff burned your throat, but you didn’t stop. The night suddenly felt quieter.

Then — the front door opened.

Mychael stepped out, the porch light catching his wide eyes. For a moment, he froze, disbelief painted across his face. Then his jaw clenched. “What the hell—”

He stormed forward, grabbed the cigarette from your hand, and crushed it under his shoe, the embers dying instantly. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Relax, it’s just one—”

But you didn’t get to finish. Mychael took your wrist and pulled you back toward the house. His grip was firm, not cruel, but it carried the weight of fear. Salish and Kaido stood frozen, watching as the door slammed shut behind you.

Inside, the warm lights suddenly felt too bright. The smell of frosting and candles clashed with the faint trace of smoke still clinging to you.

Footsteps echoed from the staircase. Cash appeared, hoodie half-zipped, expression unreadable. But his eyes — soft blue, usually filled with laughter — looked… disappointed. It hurt more than if he’d yelled.

He crossed his arms. “What were you thinking?!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried through the room like thunder. “You will NOT hang out with them ever again. You hear me?”

You swallowed hard, looking at him — your father, the silly one, the energetic goofball who used to dance around the kitchen, the man who made millions laugh online. But now… he wasn’t smiling.

This version of him — stern, serious, protective — was new. Scary, even.

Kate appeared behind him, concern in her eyes, and Maverick peeked from the living room doorway, sensing the tension but saying nothing.

You stood there in silence, the taste of smoke still on your tongue, guilt rising like fire in your chest.

Cash sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. “You’re better than this,” he said quietly. “You have no idea how much we love you. Don’t throw it away trying to be like them.”

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, feeling the sting of tears but refusing to let them fall.

He stopped just short of you, studying your face carefully. The corners of his mouth twitched, unsure.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I can smell it on you.”

You flushed, turning your head. “I… I just—”

“Shh.” He stepped closer, closing the distance until his chest nearly touched yours. The scent of smoke hung faintly in the air between you, but it didn’t push him away. Instead, he reached out, pulling you into his arms. His hug was firm, grounding, and even though his scent of cologne mixed with the faint trace of smoke was overwhelming, it was safe.