summer in the city 「 s.stan 」

DAY 14

— AUGUST 14TH —

Unlike the previous day, it wasn't the sound of voices that woke you up. This time, you sleepily rolled over, only to groan at the noise of your phone annoyingly pinging every few seconds.

You blindly used your fingertips to tap at the screen, attempting to silence it; however, something caught your eye so, forcing your eyes to open properly, you picked the device up and unlocked it.

Hundreds of Instagram notifications. No, thousands. Most of them new followers, some of them likes and strange comments.

Initially, you dismissed the odd activities, deciding that it was probably just an onslaught of bots. But then you saw your new follower count – almost twenty seven thousand, compared to the below average four hundred that you'd had before – and it finally hit you.

The recording.

A few panicked moments later, your fears were confirmed. Props to Margarita, she was a woman of her word, and she worked fast – Sebastian's name was trending on Twitter, while the audio had been uploaded and reposted all over pretty much every social media app.

Of course, your friends had noticed by now; they'd texted, called, Allie had even resorted to emailing you, impatiently asking what the hell was going on.

You weren't really sure.

You were seconds away from just switching your phone off and ignoring the whole situation, but then one comment in particular made you gasp out loud.

"So you're telling me his ex thought it was okay to turn up on his birthday and ruin everything for him?"

You quickly looked up Sebastian's name, and sure enough, there it was. Born on August 13th.

You'd missed his birthday.

And nobody had told you.

Without considering your impending actions, you trudged over to his room, loudly knocking on the door. It opened almost immediately to reveal a very stressed Sebastian, which was understandable – but presently, you had other things to think about.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you demanded.

He looked confused for a second, before the realisation dawned on him, causing him to hang his head in a mixture of guilt and worry.

"Could we talk about this later?"

"No," you insisted, jamming your foot in front of the door when he tried to close it. "It was your birthday and you didn't even tell me? Am I that unimportant to you?"

"Y/N," he sighed, but you just shook your head. Although you were aware that neither of you needed another argument, you were hurt. And perhaps it was irrational but, let's face it, you really weren't up to thinking rationally yet.

You turned on your heel to leave, but Sebastian unexpectedly grasped your wrist and tugged you back into the room. He gestured for you to sit on his bed, so you did, crossing your arms and training your eyes on the floor.

"Just let me explain. It might sound weird, but I swear I had my reasons, alright?"

You didn't speak, prompting him to continue. "Usually on my birthday, my friends throw some kind of surprise party. It's like a tradition. But this year, I... I told them not to. Because I didn't want to celebrate my birthday without you."

"And you couldn't have just brought me to the party?"

"I could've, but– well, there's usually paparazzi there, because y'know, they're not gonna miss the opportunity to get a few photos of drunk Marvel actors, right? And I didn't want to just push you into the limelight without making sure you were okay with it first."

Slowly, you nodded; the idea was sweet, but the explanation so far wasn't enough to wipe the frown away from your face. "Okay. But still, why would you just not tell me that it was your birthday? And why did nobody else tell me either?"

Sebastian sighed again, running a hand through his hair as he gazed at you pleadingly. The tears in his eyes almost made you want to forgive him instantly. Almost.

"A few days ago, I told Allie and the others not to tell you," he confesses finally. "I-I had something planned, I was going to ask you... to tell you that I..."

He couldn't bring himself to say it. And, although you were dying with curiosity, you figured that it could wait. You couldn't pressure the poor man any longer, not today.

"It's okay," you murmured reassuringly, inadvertently letting him off the hook. "I'm sorry that she ruined your plans."

He nodded wordlessly, wishing he had the courage to tell you exactly what his plans had been. But now, it would have to wait.

"We could try again today?" you suggested, trying your best to muster a smile. "To forget about everything? I've been known to throw pretty good surprise parties. We can just... redo yesterday, I guess."

Sebastian considered for a moment, before returning your somewhat lacklustre grin. "Okay. I think we could both use a distraction."

⋆

A few hours later, you found yourself giggling as you tied a silk scarf around Sebastian's head as a makeshift blindfold, before leading him into the living room.

It took everything in him to refrain from making some kind of suggestive comment about the blindfold, but he managed it. And then you were ripping the material away, proudly displaying the decorations you'd spent ages putting up.

"Happy belated birthday!" you yelled as Sebastian glanced around the room. Helium balloons bobbed up to the ceiling, banners covered the walls, and confetti was littered haphazardly around a pile of gifts on the coffee table.

"Thank you," he murmured, "you—"

"Don't tell me I shouldn't have," you interrupted, "because I wanted to. You deserve something better, but I only had a few hours– oh, wait a second!"

You dashed out of the room and returned a minute later holding a birthday cake, complete with as many lit candles as you could fit onto the surface.

"Oh God, please don't sing the birthday song." Sebastian laughed and shook his head. "What am I supposed to do while people sing? Join in? Clap? Just stare at them? It's so awkward."

Chuckling at his little rant, you set the cake down and he quickly blew out the candles while you cheered.

"Make a wish!"

Sebastian shut his eyes, thinking for a brief moment. He could wish for a lot of things – for the impending onslaught of paparazzi attention that would soon be heading his way to disappear, for his vile ex to never bother him again, for his life to just be easy from that moment on. Yet while he wanted all of those things, something else was somehow far more important to him.

I wish I can fix things with Y/N.