Chương 17: '22nd!'
It's exactly 5:00 in the afternoon. They were currently at the abandoned warehouse, which was their last scene's ideal setting. Everyone was wrapped up and called it a day as they have succesfully done the shoot.
The few scenes where Tristan participated were all done. The character that he played had already died in the movie. Although it gave him a hard time and confusion–including anxiousness—he still did a great job and flabbergasted them all. He definitely proved his versatility.
Well, of course, his clumsiness and forgetful behavior almost caught him and caused skepticism but, thanks to Whifler, everything went smoothly.
"Psst! Raj!" Summer called with a breathy voice.
Whifler's pair of grey iris stopped in her direction. His brows knitted as she waved her hand, signaling him to come towards her—with that upward curve formed in her subtle lips that could raise an indescribable nasty feeling to anybody who would see it.
"I could clearly envisage on that creepy smile that there is something cruddy plan in that filthy mind of yours... So, I refused to listen," Whifler remarked which make Summer's eyes roll.
"Ha-ha! As if I will share that kind of plan with you... Hello? I'm not plotting on anyone unless it's you," Summer retorted.
Whifler just emotionlessly stared at her. "Okay then." he turned his back on Summer and walked away.
"H-Hey. Hey! Wait up! Wait!" she dashed to catch up on his pace, then grasped his wrist which made him face her.
"What?"
"I'm just kidding, 'kay?... I am serious about what I'm going to tell you," Summer assured him, but he just leered at her.
Summer sighed in annoyance.
"Oh, ghad. Cut it out! I'll talk about Trish's birthday, okay? Will you listen now?"
Whifler who was literally having trust issues, intensely stared at her—he was making sure she was telling the truth. "Okay. Speak."
Summer leaned to his shoulder and covered her mouth as she whispered her plans to his right ear.
Tristan on the other hand—who was congratulated by the director and the others—glanced in Summer's and Whifler's direction.
Again. That irritating feeling whenever he sees them together resurfaced in him. The feeling that he couldn't ignore and really pulled his attention.
He sighed in annoyance and politely excused himself to the group of people he was talking to, then left. He was itching to know what was going on there. Every step he took towards Summer's and Whifler's spot, his curiousness and displeasure was rising.
"Ahem." Tristan got their attention as he came close enough.
Summer flinched then quickly stood properly and formed a smile on her lips. While Whifler was just calmly and emotionlessly staring at Tristan.
"What are you whispering about?" Tristan asked.
"Huh? Ah. Nothing! Hehe," she awkwardly grinned. She nudged Whifler's waist, asking for support.
Whifler was just intensely staring at Tristan, apprehending his expression. Every movement of his eyes. The way he simply pursed his lips, the unnoticeable waves of his brows, and of course, his tone the way he asked; it gave an inkling to Whifler.
"It's something that should only remain between us," Whifler replied, without taking his eyes off to Tristan. He is surely trying to prove something.
"Yes. Yes. I-It's a secret between us!" Summer agreed.
"It's not a secret actually, it's privacy. Like privacy between couples."
"Yes! Privacy between co—Wait what?" Summer jolted at what Whifler said and confusedly looked at him, but he just gave her a just-play-along glance.
Summer paused for a moment before she understood Whifler's signals.
"Oh. Yeah!" she smiled at Tristan.
Tristan became silent. He felt a bit of pain in his chest. Yeah, right. He almost forgot everything that Tanya told them that night. Like how Whifler gave up his career just for Summer.
He stared at them for another moment, realizing and sinking it into his mind. Just how lovely they were. Just how perfect they were together.
He averted his gaze. His thoughts were jumbled. Whifler who was looking at him has proven his hunch. Summer was bewildered at the sudden moment of silence between them.
She looked back and forth at them. "Ah. Guys?"
She attempted to break the silence but, nothing happened. She scratched her nape. Aside from being confused and unaware of what was going on, she also started to feel uncomfortable and awkward, looking at Tristan who was averted, and Whifler who was staring straight at him for a while now.
Tristan clenched his fist and slightly pressed his lips, aggravated by his own muddled-up feelings. His pair of bright-aqua optics slowly meets Whifler's gaze and looked at him dolefully. He likes Summer, even if he denied it to himself a hundred times. He couldn't conceal his true emotions.
"What is wrong with you two? Are you having a telepathic conversation?" Summer finally got their attention.
"Nothing. I'm tired... Excuse me," Tristan responded without looking at them, then walked away.
Summer became more flummoxed. She was comprehending and overthinking if she said something inappropriate. She looked at Whifler whose thoughts were still drifting.
"Hey. What happened? Why she's acting weird all of a sudden? Did we upset her?" Summer asked. Whifler just shrugged his shoulders.
"He was surely hurt," Whifler faintly mumbled. He felt guilty and worried.
"What did you say?" Summer got his attention. He shook his head and sighed.
"Maybe she's just in her period."
"Oh. You think so?"
They both looked at Whifler's pocket as his phone rang. He took his phone out and glanced at the caller.
"I'll answer this first," he excused himself and paced a few meters away from Summer, before picking up the call.
[Whifler! Where are you?] Trish exclaimed on the phone.
"I'm still on the set. Why?" he replied.
[Can you come over?]
He paused at Trish's question. Her voice made him worry. He glanced at Summer and jolted back as he saw her talking to Tristan.
[Whifler?]
"Ah. Yes... I'll be there soon."
[Thank you] Trish responded, then hung up.
Whifler put his phone back inside his pocket, then walked toward Tristan and Summer.
"Whifler!" Summer enthusiastically greeted him.
"Let's hang out! ya know. Uhm. I think we should celebrate!!"
Whifler looked at Tristan. Tristan's eyes lowered when their gaze met. He knew right away that Tristan wanted it too.
"Alright. But, I'm not coming with you... I have plans," he remarked. Summer's right brow raised.
"Are you making excuses?"
"No... The call earlier is what I'm talking about."
"Oh. Okay... Right! I'll tell Tanya!" Summer said, then ran away.
Tristan looked at Whifler, but he then averted his eyes as soon as Whifler looked at him. Whifler just chuckled at his reaction.
"You're quite obvious, you know." Whifler teased.
"What obvious. What are you talking about?" Tristan turned his head and hid his flushed face using the back of his hand.
"Nothing," Whifler smiled. "I have to go. You'll be fine with Tanya, right?"
"What am I, a kid? Of course. I'll be also fine even without her," Tristan deadpanned.
"Okay. Okay." Whifler chuckled. They both looked at Summer and Tanya approaching.
"I'm leaving first. DON'T CAUSE ANY TROUBLE!" Whifler warned as they stopped in front of him.
Summer and Tanya bowed their heads.
"Yes. Father," they scorned in chorus.
"Tss. I'm leaving," Whifler waved his hand at them, then approached the director and the others before he left.
.
.
Despite safety reminders in driving, Whifler drove at a speed of 150 km/h. He didn't know why he was too hype and couldn't wait to arrive at Trish's place. Perhaps he was worried? Or just curious? He didn't know.
Trish slightly jumped in surprise as Whifler opened the door of her room.
"Ghad, Whifler! You startled me! You came too quickly. You literally arrived in less than 15 minutes! Wait. Did you drive at that speed again?!" Trish's left brow raised and furiously stared at Whifler.
"No. There was just no traffic," he replied then flopped to the sofa across Trish's bed.
"No traffic your ass. You don't really listen until you've had an accident, do you?"
"Accident fears me."
Trish was stupefied at Whifler's answer.
"You're crazy."
Whifler just smiled. "Anyway. Why did you call me over?"
"The doctor... Gave me the final result earlier," she lamely replied. Whifler's face became more serious.
"What's the result?"
"I... Maybe you should see it for yourself." Trish handed the envelope to Whifler.
His brows knitted in worry upon seeing the result. He looked at Trish's troubled face. He sighed and chose to close the envelope and put it beside him.
"Summer... Wanted to organize a surprise party for you on your birthday." Whifler spoke, changing the subject and breaking the gloomy atmosphere around them.
"Really?" Trish slightly smiled.
"Yes. But, Tristan will be the one receiving the party organized for you. So, I am confused about whether to let him know or not."
"Don't tell him." Whifler paused at Trish's reply.
"Why?"
"Because... I know he'll like it," Trish smiled softly. She lowered her head and started to fidget her thumbs.
"You know... Tristan had been home-schooling. He never went to school because it was too difficult for him to socialize or even just to step outside. He was scared," she added.
"Never went to school?" Whifler asked which made her look at him.
"Didn't he have school records from kindergarten to grade school? Don't you wonder why he suddenly became scared of the outside world?"
"Of course we did. But... Mom didn't really pay any attention to it. If we didn't discuss different kinds of phobia in school, I would never know. I am really grateful to that teacher... Although I didn't take him to the professionals to prove his condition, I researched it well."
"Then, why you didn't tell your mom?"
"Believe me or not, I did... But, she didn't listen. I got scolded instead because I kept on nagging her about it. I felt bad so, I tried to help Tristan in any way I know... I'm always inviting him to play with me or wander outside... But, I guess... I'm the last person he would like to receive help from or maybe he hoped I did not." Trish painfully chuckled.
"He got berserk that time because I insisted... He accidentally pushed me and I got hurt. I forced him anyway, so it's nothing for me. But, for mom... It was tremendously unacceptable... That was the worst day I've ever witnessed. Tristan's body was covered with bruises. Mom beat the hell out of him." Trish wiped the tear that fell from her left eye.
"My... My heart crumbled seeing him... I hated myself. I blamed myself. I couldn't do anything to defend him. I couldn't protect him at that time. I... I just watched how mom thrashed him. Even if I helped him, I know it's useless. My words are nothing. I am powerless against mom... Even to this day." Trish's voice was cracking.
You could see how dejected and lonely she was. The unstoppable flowing of tears through her eyes conveyed the inexpressible guilt and pain.
"Trish." Whifler softly mumbled. He gently caressed Trish's hand that had been gripping her blanket. He wanted to comfort her but, he had no idea where to start.
Trish smiled weakly then put her other hand on top of Whifler's hand. "But, still... I am happy and relieved because you are there for him. All of you... Especially Summer. She helped him overcome his phobia, right?"
Whifler nodded. "He's more comfortable and calm now."
"I'm glad... That's why I think he will be happy to be surprised." Trish sighed. "I miss Summer."
Whifler stared at her. "Are you getting bored here?"
Trish looked at him and think. "Not really."
"Should we go for a walk?"
"What. Do you want to pull a wheelchair?"
"No. That's a hassle. You will walk on your own feet, of course."
Trish blinked several times then snorted at Whifler's sobersided face. "Did you hit your head somewhere, Manager Whifler? You know that I shouldn't."
"Why not? Well." He lifted the envelope he put beside him earlier. "It was clearly written on your results that...You are fully recovered."
Trish felt a bit uncomfortable at his smile.
"You will keep this a secret... Right?"
"Mhm... Let me think about it." Whifler teased. Trish was taken aback and flinched. Her eyes widened and started to feel nervous.
"Are you serious? Y-You will not spill anything to mom, are you?"
"I told you. I'll think about it," Whifler replied. Trish formed a frown on her face and bowed her head. Whifler just smiled looking at her depressed face.
"Just kidding." Whifler chuckled. Trish glared at him and threw a pillow at his face.
"Stop joking like that!" she pouted.
"Hahaha. Yes. Yes. Sorry. Anyway... Now that you recovered, what will you do now? We can't hide this from your mother forever. The doctor was also frustrated with reasoning out to your mother. I am sure she was suspicious about this now."
Whifler's brows furrowed when Trish grinned.
"That's not a problem."
"What do you mean?"
"Mhm. Well, I found out yesterday that mom hired one of my maids here to spy on me. So..." Trish looked at Whifler, purposely delaying her next words to make him curious.
"So. What?" his right brow raised.
"I hired her back!" she smiled from ear to ear.
"Hah?"
Trish chuckled at Whifler's reaction.
"I hired her back and told her to report to mom that I've been stressing my knee. I also let her take a photo of me doing it as proof! She's out of the country for two weeks anyway, she can't nag me about it. Teehee!"
Whifler facepalmed. "You're crazy! She will definitely bury you alive when she comes back."
"That's fine. 2 weeks is enough for me to get ready." Trish chortled.
"Yeah. You two are really twins." Whifler mumbled.
"Oh! Anyway. Is Mr. Lee still doing sessions with Tristan? How was it?"
"Yes. But, their session was more seldom than before. Lee confirmed that he was more steady and calmer. He will probably end his session soon. Summer surely helped him a lot in overcoming his phobia developed from his past."
Trish was astounded at Whifler's last sentence.
"Developed from his past?"
"Yes. Tristan told him he was lost once. And Lee suspected that was when Tristan developed his phobia."
Trish thought deeply. "Mhm. I think I remembered that. He was found at midnight."
Whifler was startled at the sudden ting of his phone. His brows furrowed as soon as he opened the message sent to him.
"Summer is asking if it's okay for her to gift you a brassiere on your birthday. It would be weird if Tristan will receive that kind of gift, don't you think? Hays. For all things, why brassiere? This idiot." Whifler murmured while typing his reply to Summer.
Trish just chuckled at him. "Raj... I have a favor."
.
.
.
5 days had passed. Tristan was stressed at the same time confused about why on Earth Summer hadn't messaged him yet nor called him. She was usually sending him a good night or a morning text. If not, in the afternoon or noon, just at least once a day. But, these days, even a single hi. None.
'Maybe she's just busy?', he thought.
"HEY!"
Tristan jolted as Tanya suddenly tapped both of his shoulders. "Don't scare me like that!"
"Oh. Sorry. You've been spacing out a lot lately. What's wrong with you?" Tanya asked.
Tristan averted his eyes. "Nothing."
"Really? You're not even complaining today. Is that what nothing to you? Look. You even let me put that peacock feather on your head. You hate it, right?"
"What the! You should rem—" Tristan paused when he felt nothing on his head.
"See? You're not yourself."
Tristan glared at her. "Are you making fun of me?"
Tanya flicked his forehead. "Dummy. I'm just worried. So, what is it?"
"I just said. It's nothing!" Tristan protested. Tanya stared at him for a moment, then sighed.
"Alright. Let's say that's true."
"It really is!"
"Okay. Okay... Fixed yourself already, we're wrapping up!" Tanya told and was about to leave but Tristan called her again. She looked at him.
"What?"
"Uh. Did Summer message— I mean. Uhm. Did you perhaps hear anything from Summer?" Tristan awkwardly asked while fidgeting his thumbs.
"Oh. Miss Summer?" Tanya looked up, thinking if she received any messages or calls.
"No... But, Whifler did receive a call from her a while ago."
Tristan averted his gaze as he heard Whifler got one. He felt upset and a bit jealous. He hadn't received anything, but Whifler did. And it's not just a text but a call.
Well, maybe he was also exchanging texts with her even before that call. But, how stupid of him to think such things? Of course, probably they became mutual, what now? He shrugged off his thoughts and just started to fix himself.
"Okay," he responded to Tanya with a disappointed tone.
"Why?" Tanya curiously asked. She noticed Tristan's gloom and wondered about it.
"She didn't text or call me as she used to."
"Ah. Maybe she's just busy?"
"Mhm. Perhaps."
'She's busy for me, and not to Whifler' he thought.
"I'm done."
"Okay. Let's go," Tanya answered, then left first. Tristan followed her immediately.
But, as they arrived at the main lobby. All his co-models, staff, and all the workers of Fuenta Glamouroza surprised him with popping confetti and a loud round of applause.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISS TRISH!!!!" They greeted him in chorus. He was stupefied at the sudden greetings, he never expected it. He even forgot it was his birthday. He smiled in delight.
"Thank you. Thank you!" he responded in full of appreciation.
On the other hand, Gale and Andrea–her assistant–stood in a distance, watching the mini-celebration. Gale was annoyed. For her, it was really irritating looking Tristan happy, or Trish to be exact.
"They looked so happy," Andrea spoke. Gale rolled her eyes.
"Just a bunch of plastics."
"You think so? By the way Miss Gale. I'm surprised. You didn't bother Miss Trish these days... Uh, I think it's been a week or more?"
Gale smirked. "Well, you will be more surprised when I give her my present. I just let her enjoy her special day and... The remaining time she has "
"That sounds... Scary, Miss Gale." Andrea averted her gaze as Gale looked at her with that intimidating eyes.
"Of course." She wickedly smiled.
.
.
Tristan took an hour before they finally let him off. He was tired at the same time a bit happy. It feels so good when people remembered your birthday, isn't it? He jolted and was confused as he noticed that they were heading to Whifler's place.
"Hey! Why are you taking us to your place?" He asked Whifler—who was driving—in annoyance.
"I forgot something." Whifler simply replied.
"WHAT?!" Tristan couldn't do anything, so he just laid himself back and sighed in disbelief. They were near anyway, protesting against it was just a waste of energy.
They stopped at Whifler's parking lot. Whifler got off first and then Tanya. Tristan's brows knitted.
"Why did you get out, too?" he asked Tanya. She smiled at him.
"I'm thirsty!" she answered. He turned his head as Whifler opened the car's door beside him.
"What about you?" Whifler asked him. He just unamusedly looked at him.
"Me? I'll just wait here." He deadpanned. But, he was startled when Whifler grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the car. He couldn't utter anything as he was too shocked at Whifler's sudden action.
"What the. What the hell is your problem?!" He glared at Whifler, but Whifler didn't respond and just quietly opened his house's door.
"Hey! I s—" Tristan slightly jumped in surprise as Whifler turned his living room's lights on. He was dumbfounded looking at the decorations inside.
There were different kinds, colors, and sizes of balloons scattered on the floor and also hung to the ceiling. There were confetti, magnificent lights, and a huge banner pinned on the wall saying 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!'.
He couldn't mumble a word. It seemed like his words were buried in his stomach.
"What. You don't want to enter?" Whifler teased.
Tristan slowly went inside. But, he was taken aback when he saw Summer's sparkling eyes and sweet smile approaching him, with a heart-shaped cake in her hands. She was singing the happy birthday song with a perfect melody.
Tristan's heart got wild. In happiness? In nervousness? He didn't know. He couldn't distinguish his own emotions anymore. Everything was mixed up. But, one thing is for sure. He wanted to cry all of his emotions out. And yes, he did.
Tears were falling non-stop through his eyes, he never felt this before. Even with his father. This wasn't his first time celebrating his birthday or being surprised, but this feels different to him. He felt more loved and welcomed. He felt warmth. He felt... Genuinely happy.
"Hey... Don't cry." Summer softly smiled while wiping his tears. He didn't think twice and hugged her tightly. A hug that was full of appreciation and happiness. Summer almost dropped the cake but, luckily Whifler's reflex was quite fast. So, he immediately snatched it.
Summer felt delighted in Tristan's arms. She hugged him back and slowly tapped his back.
"Are you happy?" she asked.
Tristan slowly nodded. He loosened his embrace, then looked at Summer. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Come on! There's more here!" Summer enthusiastically pulled him. He just chuckled at Summer's excitement.
He knew this surprise was supposedly for his sister. But, can he be selfish this time? And just think this was all for him. Prepared for him. And only for him... He held Summer's hand tightly which made her face him in confusion.
"What's wrong?"
"I... I hope this day won't end."
.
.
.
It's exactly 2 am. Whifler dropped him off in front of his house. He was tired but, his smile was still seen on his face. But, he got more excited as he heard a low commotion inside his house.
'Did mom also prepare a surprise for me?', he thought, then excitedly opened the door.
But... His smile was swiftly gone as he saw the scattered ripped gift wraps on the floor. The food on the table was half-eaten. Everyone was giggling and chattering happily. He entered the house and got everyone's attention. Except for his mom, of course, who was busy taking photos of his sister. The maids greeted him. Trish automatically smiled as soon as she saw him.
"Tristan!" she excitedly waved her hand at him. He just coldly nodded his head.
"Oh, you're home early. I thought you were celebrating with friends?" his mom asked him, scanning the camera.
'I want to celebrate with you, too!' he thought.
"Ah. Yeah," he responded.
"There's some food left there, just eat if you want." he was stupefied at what his mother said.
That wasn't the word he wanted to hear from her.
He was waiting for something. Something that he knew was impossible.
"No thanks. I'm full. I'll head to my room first." He was about to leave but he waited for another moment, waiting for his mother to say something. Anything... Just anything that would satisfy his longing.
"Mom! You know it's not just my birthday, Tristan too!" Trish exclaimed. Her mom stopped taking photos of her, then unamusedly stared at her.
"Of course, I know," her mom responded.
"Then why you didn't greet him?"
"Oh. I did not?" she looked at Tristan. "Happy Birthday."
She simply greeted his son, then got her attention back to Trish. "Look here, darling."
"Mhm. T-Thank you." Tristan's voice was cracking, holding back the tears to fall off. He immediately went to his room as he couldn't hold back anymore.
He was hurt... Deeply hurt. He was so thirsty for his mother's care and love. Why? Why it was so difficult to acquire them? He always wanted her attention, why he couldn't even get a genuine glance? Even just a little affection.
He gripped his chest as he felt its tightening. He couldn't breathe. He was suffocated by his silent cry and hidden sobs.
'Am I born to carry this burden? To feel this pain? To be unloved? To be an outcast to my own family?' he thought.
'What did I ever do wrong?'
Meanwhile, Trish was glaring at her mother.
"Mom! Why you're so insensitive? Read between the lines!" She exclaimed. Her mother's brows knitted.
"What?"
"Tristan mom! Tristan just wanted to—Argh! Nevermind. I'm tired mom. Please, go home now."
"Hey, Young lady! What are you say—"
"MOM! PLEASE!" Her mother was startled at her daughter's attitude. She never talked back at her like this.
"Trish! I didn't like your tone!" She scolded. Trish just sighed.
"Sorry, mom. But, please... I'm asking you. I want to take a rest now."
Her mom sighed and grabbed her bag.
"Alright. Rest well." She kissed her forehead.
She was about to leave but Trish called her again. Sharrie, her mother, looked at her.
"Don't just focus on me... Take care of Tristan, too."
.
.
Tristan groaned when a loud knock on his door room, woke him up. He glanced at his watch, it was already 3 am. He rubbed his swollen eyes, then irritatedly went to the door and opened it.
His brows furrowed as he saw Trish outside, sitting in her wheelchair. He immediately averted her eyes as he opened the door.
"D-Did I disturb your sleep?"
"What do you think? Why are you here? Has your party already been done?" Tristan deadpanned.
"Yeah. She went home." Trish replied.
"What do you want then?"
"Mhm. Uh... Wait for a second."
Tristan's brows knitted as the maid handed a mocha cake in a square shape with the number 22 candle lit on top, to Trish.
"I told Whifler to buy this flavor because I know it's your favorite." she smiled.
"What crap is this now, Trish?" Tristan fumed.
Trish already expected Tristan's reaction, so she got herself ready for it. But, even though she was, she couldn't still shrug her nervousness off.
"I... I want to celebrate our birthday together."
"Hah?! Are you not satisfied with your party earlier? You should've told mom! Why are you bothering me?" Tristan snapped, then roughly walked towards his bed and flopped there.
Trish felt a bit upset. But, she never gave up. At least Tristan left his door open.
She signaled the maid to push her wheelchair inside, then told her to leave them alone. After the maid left, she took a deep sigh looking at Tristan who was now covered with his blanket.
"Tristan. I know... I know you hate me for some reason and I may didn't fully understand why, but I'm really... Really sorry," Trish started.
"Do you remember when we first met? When dad introduced me and mom to you? You were so happy that day, didn't you?"
"I... I can still remember your bright smile and... And cheerful laugh. Your sweet words and warm welcome. The way we played together. We teased each other, we laughed, we bond... E-Everything. We were so happy before, weren't we?"
Trish's voice was cracking, and tears started to fall through her eyes. She gripped the cake she was holding. Her sight was blurry.
Tristan on the other hand was just silently listening to what his sister was saying.
"I... I just want to see that smile again. I want... I want to hear you laugh again. I... I just want us back to what we used to."
Trish sobbed and gripped the cake board even more. Her chest tightened, and she couldn't breathe properly. She was in pain. Tristan could hear that. He knew. He understood.
"I miss you, Tristan."
Trish tried to calm herself and pacified her sobs.
She bit her lip as she didn't receive any response from Tristan.
"Okay. I... I understand. I'm sorry. Uh, I'll leave the cake here, 'kay?" She put the cake beside Tristan's lampshade.
"Uhm. If you don't want it. Just throw it away. I'll leave now. Happy birthday. And... Sleep well."
Tristan heard the screeching of her wheel, he sighed and slowly got up. "Trish."
She paused and looked at him. "Y-Yes?"
"Don't you know how to read time? It's already 3 in the morning. Our birthday had passed 3 hours ago."
"Oh. Y-Yeah. I'm sorry."
"You should've said belated, stupid." Trish slightly felt happy as she got Tristan's tone. Her eyes brightened a bit.
"S-Sure. Belated Happy Birthday, Tristan." She greeted again.
"Belated Happy Birthday, too, Trish." Tristan greeted her back which made her smile.
"Thank you." Her voice was cracking again. But, she did her best not to cry again.
"So. What now? I can't eat this whole cake alone. Wait... Did you purposely do this to cause me toothache?"
Trish chuckled. "No. No. Idiot."
"Then why are you still there? Are you waiting for the cake to pull you or something?"
Trish laughed at her brother's serious face.
"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry! Let's cut the cake!! Oh. Wait! Let's sing first."
"Drop it! Your voice is the worst!"
"You mean, really good? Alright! Here I go. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU~~"
"Oh, ghad TRISH! STOP IT OR I'LL KICK YOU OUT!"
"HAHAHA Okay. Okay. Chill!"
"Tssk!"
Trish and Tristan finally celebrated their birthday with a pleasant vibe circulating around them.
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