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𝖢𝗋𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗌, 𝖢𝗎𝗋𝗅𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗌 ' ★
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The house was still a mess.

Balloons drifted lazily across the hardwood floor like they'd given up on floating hours ago. The leftover streamers from last night's semi-disastrous solo decorating attempt were bunched up near the ceiling, hanging on by tape that had clearly lost its will to live. But none of that mattered this morning. Because today—July 1—Yari was officially one year old.

Lorien stood at the kitchen counter in a daze, reheating formula with one hand while cradling her against his shoulder with the other. Her hair was soft and frizzy, her baby breath warm against his neck. He wasn't sure when she'd climbed out of her crib—or, more accurately, how she'd ended up curled on top of him like a tiny octopus. The couch had been his bed last night, and she'd clearly decided it was hers too.

The first half of the day passed in a blur of activity. Feeding her. Washing up the baby bottles. Fighting with her birthday dress (again). And then the real battle: her hair.

He sat her down on a pillow, comb in hand, facing her like he was about to perform surgery. She stared back at him with curious eyes, one hand crammed into her mouth.

"I googled this," he said aloud, voice serious. "I watched, like, five tutorials. I'm going to attempt a puff and maybe a twist."

Yari responded by spitting onto his shirt.

Half an hour later, she had a slightly crooked puff with a yellow clip in it, but she looked delighted. He figured that was a win.

At exactly 2:00 p.m., the doorbell rang.

He opened it expecting Theo—and found not just him, but an entire welcome party spilling into the hallway.

Ana smiled brightly, holding a tiny pink gift bag with sparkly tissue paper sticking out the top. "Happy birthday to our littlest girl!"

Kai, beaming and already wearing a party hat, bounded forward with balloons nearly the size of her. "We brought stuff! I even helped wrap!"

Right behind her was Ronan—tall, athletic, calm as ever—who stepped into the apartment like he'd never left. His quiet nod to Lorien said more than words. And at the very back of the line, casually strolling in with sunglasses perched on his hair and a grin that said I'm proud of this chaos, came Kian.

"Yo," Kian said, lifting a box with colorful ribbon. "Your baby is about to have a better birthday than I've ever had." Lorien blinked. "I thought it was just Dad coming."

"I said I might bring guests," Theo replied innocently.

"Yeah, but you brought a whole Ahn family reunion." Theo clapped his hands. "Well, let's set up. We've got a doljanchi to run!"

Yari lit up when she saw them all. She wobbled forward on her feet toward Ronan, who scooped her up like he'd been doing it all year. "She got big," he said softly, bouncing her in his arms. "And heavy."

"She eats like a gremlin," Lorien offered, rubbing the back of his neck. "But she's cute."

"Gremlin princess," Kai corrected, pulling out sparkly confetti from her tote. They got to work. Ronan helped inflate the new balloon arch since the first one had deflated overnight. Kian danced around with Kai, pretending the streamer roll was a microphone. Ana took charge of the food table setup with the kind of laser focus only a seasoned mother possessed.

Then, just as Lorien finished placing the doljabi mat in the center of the room, the doorbell rang again.

Zian stood in the hallway, holding a paper bag and wearing her softest smile. "I brought rice cakes," she said. "You texted me at, like, midnight in a panic. Figured you needed backup."

Lorien rubbed his eyes. "I forgot I did that." From behind him, Kian's voice rang out: "Noona!"

Zian's face lit up. "Kian-ah!" She stepped inside, and he immediately ran over to give her a hug. "I didn't know you were gonna be here."

"I didn't know you were coming either." Theo raised an eyebrow and leaned toward Lorien. "You didn't tell me she was coming."

"She's my friend," Lorien muttered. "She's helping."

Theo gave him a slow nod. "Mm-hmm. Friend. Got it."

Zian, of course, effortlessly slid into the scene—greeting Ana with a warm bow, teasing Kai about the confetti in her hair, and handing Ronan a rice cake like they'd known each other for years. It wasn't awkward. Not really. Except every time Lorien looked over, he caught Kian watching them with a knowing smirk.

Eventually, they gathered everyone in the living room.

Yari, still in her slightly uneven puff ponytail, sat on a soft white mat with tiny gold stars stitched into it. In front of her were five items: a pencil, a stethoscope toy, a paintbrush, a stack of money, and a soccer ball.

"Okay," Theo called, crouching behind the camera. "This is it, folks! Make your predictions."

"Ball," Ronan said immediately.

"Pencil," Ana voted.

"Money," Kai whispered, eyes wide.

"Paintbrush," Zian offered, nudging Lorien with her elbow.

He just smiled. "I'm not betting against her."

Yari stared at the objects for a moment—then slowly began crawling forward. Her fingers brushed the stethoscope. Then the money. Then paused. Everyone held their breath. She picked up the pencil and squealed. The room erupted into applause.

"She's gonna be a writer!" Kai shouted.

"Or a lawyer," Ana said brightly.

"Or a... bureaucrat," Ronan added helpfully.

Lorien laughed and scooped her up. "She's gonna be whatever she wants." They took pictures. Lit a tiny candle. Sang "Happy Birthday" in English and then again in Korean, Yari smacking her hands in excitement before face-planting into the cake and coming up with cream on her cheeks.

After everyone was full and the decorations began to droop a little, the guests slowly filtered out. Ana and the kids were off to check into their hotel, promising to come back in a few days. Ronan had a flight in the morning but promised to FaceTime. Kian left last, giving Zian a playful side-hug and whispering something in her ear that made her laugh before he winked at Lorien and vanished into the hallway.

And then it was quiet again. Just Lorien, Zian, and a very sleepy Yari whose curls had fluffed out even more thanks to frosting.

Zian wiped down the table in silence while Lorien leaned against the wall, rocking Yari gently in his arms.

"Thanks for helping," he said eventually. She glanced back. "Of course. She's kind of my favorite baby now."

"You say that like you know a lot of babies."

"I do," she said dramatically. "You should see the babies in my building. No charm. No puff ponytails." He chuckled. Then, without really thinking about it, he said, "Second date?"

Zian looked up.

"No screaming toddlers. No party hats. Just... me. You."

She smiled. "I'm free this weekend." Lorien grinned and looked down at Yari, who was already dozing in his arms.

"Cool," he said softly. "I'll find a babysitter."

And in that small, warm moment—surrounded by crumbs, empty cups, and the smell of sugar—everything felt just right.

—

The apartment was finally quiet. No birthday music echoing off the walls, no sticky hands tugging at gift bags, no crinkling paper or Nerf ball wars between Kai and Kian in the hallway. Just the soft whir of the ceiling fan and the low hum of the city outside, muffled through closed windows. Seoul didn't sleep, not really, but for once—it felt like Lorien did.

Well. Almost.

He was lying on the living room floor in a half-assembled blanket fort, the one Kai had insisted they keep up "for memories." He didn't have the heart to tear it down just yet. His hoodie was halfway zipped, socks mismatched, back sinking into the throw pillows that were now part of the makeshift structure. Beside him, tucked under a fleece blanket dotted with cartoon stars, was Yari. Fast asleep. Curled against his side like she'd always belonged there.

He wasn't entirely sure how they ended up like this. The last thing he remembered was trying to get her to settle down for the night—again. After all the excitement of her birthday, all the new toys and hugs and kisses and games, she'd been wired. Then, at some point, she must've found her way to him. Or maybe he scooped her up without thinking, too tired to bother with anything else. Either way, she'd fallen asleep with one small hand wrapped in the fabric of his sleeve, and he hadn't dared move since.

Her little foot rested against his leg, the tiniest weight, and yet somehow it anchored him. She stirred every now and then—twitched in her sleep, lips pursing in a dreamy little frown like she was still tasting that strawberry cake or remembering the ridiculous glittery bow Kai had stuck in her curls. Lorien glanced down at her and smiled, tired but full.

A week ago, he wasn't sure he could do this. Not alone. Not for this long. But now, with her breath rising and falling against his side, he understood. He understood what Theo meant about love being exhausting and quiet and showing up in the form of early bottles, mashed rice, and cartoon lullabies. This wasn't fatherhood, not exactly—but it was something close. Something powerful. Something real.

"Happy birthday, trouble," he whispered, brushing a soft curl away from her forehead. "You made it a whole year."

Her body shifted against him, but she didn't wake.

A quiet buzz lit up his phone on the floor beside them. Lorien reached for it carefully with one hand, not wanting to wake her. One new message glowed on the screen.

Zian: Made it home. I still have frosting on my jeans, but it was the best day. Goodnight, Lorien.

He smiled before he could stop himself and typed back slowly.

Lorien: Thanks for helping me not lose my mind. I owe you date #2. And possibly a bottle of wine.

Her response came almost immediately.

Zian: You owe me a babysitting gig. I'm not done being Yari's favorite Noona.

A quiet chuckle escaped him. That was fair. Zian had stepped up without hesitation, and it was weirdly comforting how quickly she'd slipped into this part of his life. Awkward, funny, a little clumsy—but it worked. He'd never said the word "girlfriend," and neither had she, but something in his chest tightened whenever he thought about it. It was a beginning.

He set the phone aside and looked at the clock. 12:26 a.m.

Outside, the city glowed faintly under the moonlight. Somewhere in the hallway, Bori leapt from a shelf and vanished into the dark. Koa let out a soft groan in his sleep near the bedroom door, curled up protectively even though he hadn't figured out how to keep Yari from grabbing his tail.

Lorien leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I think we did okay," he murmured, not expecting an answer.

Yari shifted once more and let out the softest sound—like a sigh, or maybe a dream.

He glanced down at her again, taking in her calm face, the slow rise and fall of her chest. It had been a wild week. A strange, sticky, unpredictable, beautiful week. And somehow, he'd made it through. Not perfectly, not without chaos—but that wasn't the point. He'd showed up. He'd tried. He'd loved her with everything he had.

For now, that was enough.

Just a big brother. A maybe-sorta boyfriend. And for this one stretch of wild, sleepless days—a very tired, very full-hearted version of something like a dad.

The best kind of test run.