It's almost your eighteenth birthday.

Just a few more seconds..

You're in bed celebrating by yourself with a little cupcake.

When the clock struck twelve, you blew the tiny candle.

"Happy birthday to me.."

Before you could even take a bite from your cupcake, there was a knock on your bedroom door.

You lived alone, so you wondered what the fuck?

You put the cake down and reached for your phone, "Oh my god.."

The door slowly opened, making a creaking sound.

A handsome man was leaning against the doorframe.

He winked at you, "Happy birthday, gorgeous."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Aw," He smiled, "Let me refresh your memory.."

Scaramouche revealed a book from behind his back. More specifically, your diary.

From when you were a kid.

"On your 18th birthday," He began, "You wished for a boyfriend."

"Actually," He laughed to himself, "You wished for ten."

The handsome stranger cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder.

"Guys, come in."

All of a sudden, you could hear multiple footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Oh. My. God." You whispered, "What have I done..?"