Elena, a young woman with a hopeful gleam in her eyes, often overshadowed by loneliness, occupied a worn wooden table in her dimly lit apartment. The faded wallpaper peeled at the edges, and the creaking floor narrated years of neglect. The dining room shared space with the living room, a constant reminder of her limited means. A clock on the wall ticked away, each second weighing on her heart as she sighed, glancing at her phone, now reading 10:08 PM.

Earlier that day, she meticulously crafted high-quality invitations, pouring her heart into every word, color, and font. After hours of effort, she slid them into the lockers of her classmates, yearning for connection and visibility on her birthday. However, as the day unfolded, she found herself alone, tears welling in her eyes. With a faltering smile, she whispered, "I guess they must not have checked their lockers today. Haha."

Putting the phone down, her gaze landed on a small store-bought birthday cake, a symbol of her attempt to find joy in solitude. Glancing at her old, disfigured teddy bear, a relic from childhood, propped on one of the four seats, she asked with a genuine smile, "You bought me a birthday cake?" A glimpse of innocence emerged in a seemingly cold world. "My birthday is almost over... still no messages... but at least I got you, right?" She waited for a response, a lump in her throat as the bear, of course, remained silent.

Sitting in silence, a crushing weight settled in her chest for around 20 minutes before a knock on her door startled her from her daze. She stood up, hands trembling, and opened the door, expecting another misfortune to accept.