Pre a/n: the following will be the summarization of how Se Na’s birthday goes, and what the boys had planned beforehand. I tried my best, so I hope you’ll appreciate it a bit.

세나: He has never called me in this time, or at daylight, exactly, so now it’s a great curiosity for me as I stare down at my phone in mingled awe and confusion. “Yeoboseyo?” I say slowly, putting the phone next to my ear.

“Se Na, comrade!”

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I barely have time to tell you this, but promise me you’ll say Yes?”

“As long as it’s within my power to execute the promise and it doesn’t do me any harm,”

“It will do you heaps of good; that I assure you!”

“Fine, what is it?” I’ve never heard Zelo in this kind of voice—very hyperactive, I mean.

“Can we meet up tonight?”

“Heol. What for?”

“Just—something! It’s a surprise!”

Well it’s not a surprise anymore now that you’ve told me about it. Good thing frowns aren’t heard over the phone. “Where?”

“The skate park where we first met, there. At around thirty minutes before midnight. Will that be alright?”

“It’s alright for me; but you—is it alright for you?”

“I’ve settled it already, nothing to worry. We’re shooting for something right now, I must hang up now, comrade. Laters!”

The day passes with me pondering over the supposed-surprise for me later. Turns out, because of too much excitement for tonight I barely feel the day pass. Besides, I stay at home for the day because mainly my best friend’s band are out somewhere shooting for their reality show, and the chilly weather bores me to hibernation. I clean my home, while trying not to be vain that tomorrow is my birthday and trying even harder not to think that what await me are heartwarming greetings, tons of gifts, and an abundantly overflowing amount of affection. Well they might, as they well would, but the remorse that’s been sitting in my bosom for months now has gotten even bigger—that I’m lying to these people, especially to the one who ought to know the truth.

What is wrong with me? I ask myself again and again as I stare at the vast view of the city, standing by my terrace, till a strong gust of wind disturbs me from my reverie. But then that’s not enough for me to retrace the train of my thoughts. Why is it so hard for me to tell Sungjae? It’s a very small thing after all, but—why?

I sigh, as I do always, conceding to the defeat that I think is insurmountable. It’s aggravating, saddening—stupid, because I think I can’t do anything about it.

The night arrives before I even realize it, and as every hour advances so does my anticipation. I’m a bit punctual for our meeting, I realize, when I take about ten minutes standing there in the middle of the skate-park looking like a hooligan waiting for a victim (I suppose I really look like one, since my hood covers almost my entire shades and I’m wearing a baseball cap and all).

Finally, the wait is over, as I see a blonde giant yonder, walking to my direction in the coolest gait imaginable. He then raises an arm when he’s a yard away, “’Sup, comrade?”

Strange, because the guy I talked to over the phone this morning doesn’t seem to be this guy. “Waddup,” I meet the palm of his hand with my own. “So what is it you want me here for?”

Zelo grins, somewhat slyly. “Well…”

“Well…?”

He brings out something from the pocket of his coat, and it’s—well, surprise, surprise—a gift. “For you!” he grins like a child, flushes like a boy.

“Wow, you even bothered!” I exclaim, surprise affected, as I meekly take the gift with both my hands. “Really, Zelo, you shouldn’t have—”

“But I really wanted to,” he pouts, lower lip protruding out. “And the hyungs want to give some, too; when they knew it’s your day tomorrow, some wanted to give a token.” He opens his backpack he happened to be wearing. “They’re simple, but—cool—yeah?”

“Yeah,” I laugh, as I take a pile of three more gifts. And what are the gifts, you ask? I dare say my collection of their albums now is already complete, and all signed—as these are the only ones missing in my array back at home. “Goodness. Zelo, you people didn’t really have to!”

“No! Why you see I seldom get acquainted with females other than our Secret sunbaes and the hyungs have known you for quite a time now and you know, people think more of you than you think,”

I’m moved, a hundred percent, that I cover my cheeks, warming from the inside out. “Aww, that’s too cheesy.”

“It’s true!” he laughs. “I’ve really no time now, so, happy birthday, comrade,” he smiles. “I wish you happiness, and a long, blessed life,”

I wish me that, too. “Thanks, Junhong.”

He chuckles, and there’s another reminder that this guy whose height is 70, is actually 17.  “You’re very welcome. Don’t miss our dance battle alright? That’s the part two of my gift for you,”

“Eh, sure. I will, I will,” I smile.

“This is where I go. Sorry if I called you for such a brief meeting,”

“I understand. Alright then, off you go,” I tap his back twice, sending him off.

We shake hands before he leaves.

Despite of the burden that I’ve cogitated upon for the entire day, the 17^th of December ends with a smile, thanks to my friends. I choose to tread my journey home, not taking a ride so I’d have more time being alone, because honestly I do like being lonely. I suddenly have the whim to take out my phone from my pocket, and I’m surprised twice in one moment: first, I see the time change to 12:18 and I smile, because oh, what a coincidence. I laugh despite of myself, grinning at my phone, “Well, what do you know?”; just in time, my phone rings, and the caller shows the name of the—well, the one I love. I surprise myself when an eruption of butterflies happens in my stomach. “Yeoboseyo?” I smile, though he wouldn’t see.

“Hey,” I must say, he has a lovely voice over the phone. Why didn’t I appreciate this sooner?

“Why’d you call?”

“You really want to flatter yourself, don’t you? There’s only room for me to greet, since I really waited for this minute to come, at midnight. 12:18, yeah?”

“You could always call at noon, later, you know,” I .

“Well, maybe, but a midnight greeting is better; you’d think it’s really thoughtful and perhaps more…romantic?”

“Go strain yourself being so cheesy, I won’t fall for it,”

“Believe me you won’t have to; you already love me—as you might well,”

“Hey, since when did you learn to talk to me like that? Where’s your respect?”

He snorts. “I’m way older than you, so stop condescending,” he teases further. I open my mouth for a rebuttal but he cuts me off. “Happy birthday, Pyo Se Na. Thank you for giving me a colorful life of ups and downs, surprises, and for being your friend; you never can know how proud I am that I am such. Just—really—thank you. You deserve all the blessings and happiness in the world. Everyone agrees with that. Thank you, very, though I’ve only known you for a short while. You won’t leave our side, yeah? Especially mine,”

I hope so, I think, wondering how he would act if he knew how offensive that latter part for me is. “Short while? Seems pretty long to me,” I chuckle.

“Hmm, you’re right,” his voice is all husky and deep over the phone; it warms my insides, as it does my face. “12:18 is almost over. I’d like to keep things brief but sacred, so I should hang up now. Don’t worry; there are plenty of pleasant things in store for you today. So…see you later?”

“Yeah. See you later,” my grin widens.

“Bye, Se Na. happy birthday,”

“Bye; thank you very much,”

When the call ends, I wonder how many birthdays are left for me to celebrate.

***

“If you wouldn’t mind, dear, would you have this for your ‘attire’ for tonight?” my mouth is left agape when I find one of Hallyu’s biggest stars stand in the same room with me—or in my apartment, exactly. That’s Choi Ji Na for you.

“Is this for real? G.Na-eonni!” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”

“Doing favors,” she smiles that catty smile of hers that I would only see on screen. Well I’ve seen her at the company for more than once but her dropping by at my apartment to give something is way beyond ‘too good to be true’!

My breath is hitched at my throat when she opens the parcel she happened to be carrying, revealing a cute dress that only the A-Pink members (or girl groups, for that matter) would have the right to wear. “But…”

“You don’t like it?” she takes a peek at the dress she’s holding, her lip protruding out in slight disappointment. “Too bad, I really chose it myself; the boys asked me to do so, as they were too stupid to know what girls want,”

“N-n-no! gosh, no!” I clear up, losing my poise as I wildly wring my hands in clarification. “It’s lovely! Too lovely, even!” I wonder if I wear that, I’d be cute, A-Pink grade. “Eonni, but, I can’t—”

“Happy birthday, Se Na, dear,” she smiles. What the heck is going on?! “News has wings. I know I’ve only come across you for very few times, but I’ve heard quite a lot about you. My, my, you really are a dear,”

I’m still shaking. Really, is this real? But—how—what—“Eonni, can I just say something?”

“What is it?”

“I don’t mean to offend or anything but, really, this is so...wrong! I mean, good wrong. Eonni shouldn’t—but—I’m—I’m sorry if I can’t speak coherently but oh my gosh you know that I exist oh my goodness you’ve brought me a dress and you greeted me a happy birthday like, how?!”

She laughs, and I find myself drowning in the overwhelming sense of star-struck. “Well Sungjae knows you’re quite a fan of everyone, and he’s once mentioned you tried dancing to Black & White because you really adored it,”

I blush, quite hard. “He didn’t show you the video, I hope?”

“As a matter of fact, he did.” and when I start groaning she eases me up by, “No, no! Don’t be embarrassed! I even hope that Father Hong would let you debut as an idol so we could have a dance duo-collaboration,” she even jests.

“I’m going to kill Jae a hundred times after this,” I mutter under my breath.

G.Na-eonni just laughs, and seizes me by the shoulders; gyrates me to face the mirror, and pushes me forward. “It’s almost time; we should get started,”

“What?”

And my question isn’t answered by words, but by what she does to me, for the following hours.

“Look at you, your hair color contrasts very well with the dress!” she squeals, clapping, admiring all by herself the “charming work of her hands” as she had said. My head is fiery red. The dress is light pink. My face is murky dark.

“Uh…thanks?”

“You look pretty, believe me! I’m sure they’ll all love how you—” and there she stops, squeaking, as she slaps with one hand. “Oops, I said too much,”

I pay her a smug smirk, “If you’re planning a surprise, well, the cat’s been out of the bag long ago.”

She tilts her head to one side, agreeing, “Yes, but I wonder how much the surprise will surprise you. Shall we go?”

I stand from my seat, excited, bewildered, thrilled—all ambivalent at one moment. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, the usual. We’re going to the company!”

When we go out of my apartment we see the infamous black van, and when I hop in I am greeted by BtoB’s manager himself, Jiyong-oppa, “Happy birthday, Se Na,”

I bow in thanks, feeling a sense of humility. It feels like my birthday’s the talk of the town, really.

About twenty minutes later, we reach the office, and we head straight to the practice rooms, but just before we come in, I am blindfolded, saying that “the surprise may have been already spoiled, but who knows, they might still manage to surprise me”

“Ready, Se Na?” G.Na-eonni’s voice whispers slyly to me, when we’re standing before the door (well, I know we’re standing before the door; I can feel it, duh).

“More than ready, actually,” I snigger, half-excited but also secretly half-nervous.

“Three, two one—” and I hear the very subtle, almost mute opening of the door, and the next thing I know my arm is softly gripped by a familiar touch.

“What’s going on?” I say involuntarily, suddenly fearing the unknown.

“Don’t worry,” says the owner of the hand gripping mine, and I realize it’s Ilhoon-oppa’s voice. “This is all for you, Se Na,” I hear him whisper something incoherently to someone else, then I know another person is standing before me.

“Hey,” I find that deep voice I know so well very close to my face the moment next, and I feel his hands untying the hanky behind my head. The blindfold slowly drops and I squint my eyes, and the first face I see is Sungjae’s, it being very close to mine. He looks unusually debonair.

“It’s cute, thanks,” I say dumbly, anxious to appear at my ease.

“’Cute’?” Jae chuckles at my dumb remark. “The reason is cuter, though,”

My face warms at the indirect remark directly delivered. The party hasn’t even started yet. “I know I’m cute, that was needless to say,” I reply, not betraying any of the signs that I was flattered.

“You kid,” he pinches my nose and shakes my head with it. “Oops, sorry, you’re not a kid anymore,”

“Right you are. So show some respect,”

“Whatevs,” he sticks his tongue out at me. “Happy birthday, Princess Fire Tooth,”

I wink. “Thanks.”

“Sit here, sit here,” he ushers me to a throne in the middle of the room (I’m serious, it looks like a throne) and I docilely sit there. And he excuses himself, saying that “he has work to do”.

A loud announcement through a microphone is heard, and we have a squirrel for an MC. “Everybody make some noise!!!”

Everyone in the Cube dance practice room starts cheering obstreperously—which consists of, of course, Born To Beat and their managers, the 4Minute eonnis, and G.Na-eonni. I don’t see how special I am in their eyes, that I question why they went all through the painstaking troubles of organizing a party. Never had anyone done that for me. Well maybe except for Sungjae, when we were younger, but what he did then were only small-time surprises, celebrated between the two of us; not that I’m belittling his efforts, but this really is just different—never have I attended a party with myself as the cynosure.

If I were to describe the wonderful long moments I spend there I might as well write a whole book, so I’ll truncate the story, and head on to my favorite parts.

After the excitement of the party’s start is a little calmed down, everyone in BtoB goes in front to say something about me. But before them, well—who would’ve expected that manager Jongwon would be the first one?

“Ah, yes, hello, Se Na. I’ve only got little to say, but I’ve carefully thought of them. Happy birthday, little girl, you’re one of the nicest kids I’ve ever met. You are ever better-behaved than the boys themselves (here everyone laughs); I find it a bit more fun when you’re in the car. Happy birthday, dear,”

Eunkwang-oppa is the next one:

“Ahem!” he clears his throat. “May I have your attention please? I have a rap for Se Na,”

Everyone groans.

He giggles despite of the seeming disapproval, and, knowing that he’s got everyone’s eyes, “Hit it, Ilhoon-ah!” when the rapper starts to beat-box, the vocalist chants,

“Yo, wassup. Pyo Se Na;

today is your birthday, I greet you a happy one;

you’re very special our little dongsaeng,

for our hearts you’ve already won;

Ah, neomu yeppeoda, Lee Bo Mi,

And I pray you’ll always say, ‘geubidalla BTOB!’”

This, apparently, causes a capital uproar in the room. “What the heck!!!” someone yells from somewhere, and while the hysteria of laughter goes on, a lot of faces are covered because of second-hand embarrassment. I clap and laugh oh so hard, for, though indeed too flattering, it’s touching. He does his short speech after that, and he is followed by Minhyuk-oppa.

“Has anyone ever heard of how terribly kind Pyo Se Na is?” he starts, when he has the mic again.

I make a loud whine in my seat, at which he laughs.

“Seriously! There was this time when we were filming The Lunch Box, and I had a little quandary, and she helped me out. I won’t tell everything, but the general idea was that I damaged my clothing and I couldn’t tell the PD-noona because she would scold me. I didn’t want to, you know, so noticing my trouble Se Na came to the rescue armed with a needle and thread,” he chuckles, and everyone does, too. “And indeed, our connivance went completely under the nose of noona,” he adds some more and ends with, “So, Se Na, happy birthday. We love you,”

Lee Changsub is next.

He wisely sings the first line of their song, ‘My Girl’, for it’s one of my favorites, and proceeds, “Although I almost couldn’t sleep last night thinking about what to say, I found out that I didn’t have to think so hard. Honestly I’m not one to say mushy things, but it’s for you, Se Na, so I’ll make an exception. Well…Pyo Se Na…she’s…funny?” he looks at the people in the room. “When we first met her we were kind of struck with the impression that she’s, what do you call this—intimidating, with that stern look on her face and all. But then she’s in the greatest sense of the word approachable, and, yeah, like I said, funny. Why funny, you ask? For one, her awful puns are so corny it’ll make you laugh. And she never is offended when we joke around her, and would even counter with equally witty remarks. Why, Se Na, we’re really thankful to have such a ‘little sister’ like you, and we’re very proud of you. I hope that even when The Lunch Box is over we’ll still retain the bond we’ve created. Please be happy always, and whenever anything’s the trouble remember you have seven brothers to run to. Saengil chukhae!”

Who should next be but Im Hyunsik.

“Ah, ne…” he holds my gaze in a way that makes me hold my breath. As soon as I remember of the very sensitive thing that I’ve confessed to him, the smile nearly disappears from my face. “I think everyone has taken the words from my mouth already. But let me say this once again: Se Na’s a really good kid. A literary duck that lays golden eggs; a very helpful and caring one, too. She might think that she’s never developed character-wise over the course of these several months, but truth is, you have. We don’t say it, but the once cynical-looking child has now learned to trust other people more (here I take an involuntary glance at Sungjae, and his face has this tender smile on it, though a trace of a little sadness is visible). And now, looking back, when we first met you—might I say this? Honestly, you looked a bit…older?”

“Why?” I ask, audible enough.

He sheepishly chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. “Well…you seem to have gained a sense of fresh youthfulness compared to when you first came. Don’t get me wrong, just—really—you look prettier now,”

 I put a flattered hand on my chest, and laugh.

“So, yeah, saengil chukhaeyo, Se Na-ya,”

They hand the microphone back to the MC. “As the maknae line had requested not to say any more birthday messages,” he starts, and I throw him the look why? “Well they’re going to do it later during the gift-presenting, they said,” he explains. After that we proceed to the games, and the six other members are split into two teams, the maknae line and the hyung line (minus Minhyuk-oppa), and the game involves playing charades about things that I like. In this game the hyung line wins, contrary to the popular belief that the maknae line would.

 “We’re just going easy on you!” Donggeun yells over at them, after the game.

After the games comes the presentation of gifts, and Jung Ilhoon’s speech impressed me, as it might well, for everyone’s have been so far this party had gone.

“I kind of promised this a few months ago,” he begins, looking at everyone else after me. “I don’t think I’d ever find anything pretty enough to buy as a gift for the girl who took care of me like a motherly hen when I was sick.”

I smile.

“Aside from Sungjae, of course, may I have the bragging right that I’ve gotten close to Se Na, too? We also have inside jokes of our own,” I have half the mind of giving away a threat with my eyes, but I know he’s prudently thought over what he’s going to say beforehand; he always does. “But so much for that; happy birthday, to our beautiful little sister, I pray you’ll always be happy and write that novel you’ve always wanted to get published, all your life,” he finishes with so much sincerity in eyes and smile, that everyone nods in agreement, spot-on.

Perhaps of all the remarkable things that happen that day the one most so was the dance, where the real surprise actually happened.

After having danced with the hyung line and Ilhoon-oppa, I’m near the edge of the cliff, ready to cry. Sungjae’s up next and as he slowly approaches, I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly possessed by the urge to run, overcome with a sense of shyness of an unknown cause.

“See? It’s very pleasant, isn’t it?” he says as he hands me a tulip, like everyone had before dancing with me. We chaséed slowly around the room, regardless of everyone’s eyes and malice; attention and circumspection, time and space.  We talk discreetly as we dance.

“Very,”

“Did we make you uncomfortable in any way? Because now I apologize,”

“Not to worry, I am eternally grateful. I just wonder how many times like this would be there left,” and with that, I mentally punch myself for such clumsy verbal slip.

“Left? Why, we’d do this every year, if you wish,” he replies in a surprised, flummoxed tone.

“No, I meant—”

“—is anything the matter?”

“No, no! It’s just that…” my words fail me. What’s missing? I raise my gaze, meeting his eyes, and I feel as if he could read my soul. “I’m just really happy, I can’t talk about it,” I say, quite confused at my own inconsistency also. It feels odd, him holding my hand here, and I’m looking for the Sungjae I’ve been so comfortable with all these years, but I couldn’t find him.

“But you’re enjoying this so far, right?”

“Y-yes.”

“I’m glad.” We sway to and fro, keeping time with the soft music playing in the background, my gaze intensified on his—in his. Exaggerated it may seem, but I feel my feet are stepping on clouds, my head is in a muddle of thoughts, and I feel warm—elated beyond any other human emotion.

“Well, time’s up,” Sungjae shrugs, when someone comes to have another dance. And it’s none other than Peniel Shin.

When he ungrasps my hand I stare at it, silently wondering why I’m quite overcome with this somewhat empty feeling. My best friend bows before leaving, and I have half the mind to stop him.

“Hello,” says Penpen quite shyly, handing me the tulip.

“Yes, hi,” I reply to him, but my sight is aimed at Sungjae, who’s gone to the other end of the room.

“Enjoying your day so far?”

“Yeah,”

A long string of seconds passes, and that’s when I realize that he’s gone quiet.

When I look at him again, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

He’s not exactly frowning, but I see disappointment in his face. “Nothing, nothing. Happy birthday, Se Na.”

“Thank you for the greeting last night,” I digress.

Good thing I knew the cure, that I find his smile again. “Were you asleep by then?”

“Nope. It was a pleasant surprise. Thank you,” I reply, my mind going back to his message from last night, which cost me much effort scrolling down the screen because it was such a speech.

Honestly, I didn’t dream our dance would be this boring.

As for the surprise, it comes when I least expect it. After sharing a dance with everyone the MC snags my attention by mightily announcing, “That’s not yet the end of it!”

I take a look at everyone, facially questioning what’s still missing. Some blow a raspberry, some are giggling so hard.

“He has come here by special invitation, and knowing that the birthday girl is his fan, he has said that it would be his pleasure to celebrate it with her!” and after holding my breath in comes, armed with a tulip, is my biggest crush in all of Hallyu, BEAST’s Son Dongwoon.

After going through half a dozen emotions in a single minute they finally get me into holding hands with him, and slow-dancing around the room. My eyes fill as my cheeks warm, and it’s so good it’s bad. Dongwoon-oppa, good thing, is used to his fans’ reactions, that he handles me well despite of my incoherency over the course of our dancing.

“Happy birthday, Se Na-ssi,” is all I get, however, but that’s much better than a world of words. Who cares, he greeted me!

That isn’t all about my birthday, of course, but to sum it up, it went sweet, and good, altogether jolly. The day ends with the seven of them walking me home, a scene which happens for the first time ever.

It’s a happy day, the best day of my life, perhaps—and as I believe in “balance of nature”, I quite expect that something bad will happen not any sooner. And I am right, because on Christmas eve, Sungjae finds me in tears.

________

I update merely because it's FNF's anniversary. this is unbeta-d so excuse all the errata

before I disappear for another several months, who do you think called Se Na? hurhur

you must hate me all. I hate myself too

lol bye. feel free to badmouth me for the sudden disappearance.

ok

tll the next anniversary

-b