"Gem, are you even listening to me?" my mom's voice cut through the chatter and noise around us.

I turned to face her, snapping back to reality. "Yeah, I'm listening," I lied, my response more of a reflex than a sincere answer. The truth was, I was only half listening to her, my mind was elsewhere, longing for my dad and the comfort of home. "Are you having fun at the party?" she asked, clearly hoping for a positive response. Her eyes searched my face as if looking for any sign of dissatisfaction. "It's alright, I guess," I replied, my voice lacking enthusiasm. In reality, I wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but here, surrounded by strangers and forced to fake a smile for hours on end. My mom's expression grew concerned, a slight frown forming on her lips. "You don't sound enthusiastic," she observed, her voice laced with a hint of worry. "Is something bothering you?"I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, and responded honestly. "I don't know these people, mom," I confessed, gesturing subtly around the room filled with unfamiliar faces. "They're all your friends, not mine."

Her face softened a bit, a look of understanding crossing her features. "I know," she admitted, her voice genuine. "But they're all here to celebrate your birthday and have a good time together. You should try to meet some of them, make new friends." I rolled my eyes slightly, feeling a twinge of frustration. "What's the point, mom?" I retorted, unable to hide my annoyance. "I don't even live here during the weekdays, why do I need to make friends with all these people I'll rarely see?" Her expression shifted to one of mild disappointment, but she tried to keep her cool. "It's not just about seeing them on weekdays, sweetheart," she explained gently.
"It's about forming connections, learning social skills, and expanding your circle of friends."I huffed a little at her insistence, my stubbornness kicking in.

"I already have a friend, mom," I protested, my voice taking on a stubborn tone. "I have Bash, and we're perfectly fine. I don't need any more friends." Mom sighed, clearly exasperated with my stubborn attitude. "Gem, having just one friend isn't enough," she argued, her voice a mix of patience and frustration. "Friendships can change, people grow apart. It's important to have multiple friends in your life." I crossed my arms defensively, refusing to budge on my stance. "Bash and I are inseparable. We'll never grow apart," I insisted stubbornly, a hint of defiance in my tone.

Mom's expression softened slightly, understanding my deep connection with Bash. "I know you and Bash are close," she acknowledged, "but people change, sweetheart. It's important to not rely on just one friendship. Trust me, I'm speaking from experience." I gave her a glare, my irritation rising. "But I'm not you, mom," I retorted, my voice tinged with irritation. "I'm my own person, and I'm happy with just one close friend. Why can't you accept that?" Frustration flickered across her face, her patience wearing thin. "Because it's not healthy, Gemma," she replied, her voice slightly firmer. "You need a support system, people to turn to when times are tough. It's important to expand your social circle."

"I care about you, Gem. I just want what's best for you." Frustration and sadness filled my heart as I spoke the truth. "You know what would be best for me, mom?" I began, my voice laced with a mix of disappointment and pain. "If instead of you inviting a bunch of random people to my birthday party, you actually focused on spending time with me. I would be a thousand times happier if we had a day just for the two of us to be together, like we used to."

Mom's eyes widened at my honesty, clearly taken aback by my words. "Gemma..." she started, her voice soft and apologetic. "I...I just wanted you to have a fun birthday party, with your friends." My heart ached as I continued to expose my feelings. "They're not my friends, mom," I emphasized, my words laced with sadness. "None of them are. And even if they were, I would much rather spend this special day with you, just the two of us." Mom's expression shifted from surprise to realization, and a hint of guilt. She reached out to touch my arm, her voice now gentle. "Gemma, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I suppose I got carried away planning this party. I just wanted you to have a good time." I softened my tone, sensing her remorse. "I know, mom," I responded, my voice now gentle as well. "I understand you wanted me to have a good time, but sometimes, all I want is to have you to myself, just like when I was little."

✐ᝰ𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴જ⁀

I remember the sun shining brightly as I woke up, my eyes filled with excitement for the day ahead. My mom and dad were still together, and they both had the day off, so it was going to be a special day.

My mom and I spent the morning baking a simple birthday cake together, laughing and talking like we always did. After the cake was baked, we went to the local park, where I played on the monkey bars.

My dad pushed me on the swings, a huge smile on his face as I squealed with glee. We had a picnic lunch in the park lawn, and when I got tired, my mom found a shady spot for us to rest. I sat there, feeling content and loved as they both talked to me. There were no grand gestures or extravagant presents on that birthday. Just simple, heartfelt moments of spending time together, laughing and creating memories that I still cherish. It was a perfect day because my mom and dad were there, just the two of them, loving me unconditionally.

✐ᝰ𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓽જ⁀

The memory faded, and I was brought back to the present, feeling a mix of fondness and melancholy. "Those were the best birthdays," I murmured, a hint of wistfulness in my voice. "Just you and me, mom." Mom's eyes welled up with tears, her heart aching at the sentiment behind my words. "You're right, sweetheart," she agreed, her voice soft. "Those days were special, and I'm sorry if I haven't been able to recreate them as we grew older and things changed."
I smiled faintly, understanding the complexities of life. "I know things are different now," I acknowledged, my voice gentle. "But I still miss those simple, special moments with you."

As I sat at the head of the grand table, a magnificent cake adorned with birthday candles was placed in front of me. Everyone clapped and sang me Happy Birthday their faces smiling in celebration. I blew out the candles, the room erupting in applause.

After eating cake, a curious girl approached me, a smile on her face. "Hi, I'm Sasha," she introduced herself, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you!" I shook her hand politely, a bit uneasy about making small talk with a stranger. "Hi Sasha, I'm Gemm-" "Gemma!" she exclaimed confidently.
I nodded, a bit surprised that she knew my name. "Yes, that's me," I confirmed. "How do you know my name?" Sasha shrugged, her smile widening. "Everyone knows who you are," she answered matter of factly. "You're the birthday girl, after all!" I chuckled a little, a bit taken aback by her casual attitude. "I guess that's true," I replied, still trying to grasp the fact that everyone at the party seemed to know who I was.

Sasha leaned in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "So, what did you wish for when you blew out the candles?" I smiled and shrugged, playing along with her curiosity. "Well, it's a secret," I replied. "You know the rule, if I tell you, it won't come true." Sasha's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Ah, right, the old birthday wish rule," she said, nodding. "I suppose you can't reveal your greatest desire then. But I bet it was something good." I chuckled at her response, feeling a bit more comfortable with her easygoing nature. "Yeah, it was something good, special even" I confirmed, holding onto the secret tightly. Sasha's eyes widened "Come on now you definitely have to tell me!"

"What about you, have you made any special birthday wishes?" I asked trying to change the topic onto her. Sasha nodded enthusiastically. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "Every year, I make a wish, and I'm convinced one day it's gonna come true." I glanced at Sasha, intrigued by her belief in birthday wishes. "You really believe that, huh?" I asked, a hint of envy in my voice. "That birthday wishes really do come true?"

"Anything can come true when you believe in it strong enough," Sasha responded with a confident smile, her words resonating with childlike optimism.

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