Lin's phone hadn't stopped vibrating since morning.
Work chats, partners, fans, former classmates, friends from the industry—messages arrived in waves. She smiled as she replied, posed for photos, recorded short videos. On the surface, she was exactly what she appeared to be: someone fully surrounded by celebration.
Only she knew she was waiting.
Waiting for a name that never appeared.
She didn't quite understand why it mattered.
She and Yeh had known each other only a handful of days. Their conversations were few, careful. There was no flirtation, no promise—calling them friends would already feel premature.
And yet, she kept checking her screen.
Glancing at the notification bar through gaps in the crowd.
Feeling her heartbeat jump briefly when a message from an unfamiliar number came in—only to fall again, disappointed.
Again and again.
When it came time to cut the cake, the room erupted. Cheers, compliments, arms around her shoulders, cameras flashing—bright and overwhelming, like fireworks.
And suddenly, Lin felt something small but sharp.
A trace of being overlooked.
Even she hadn't expected it—that among hundreds of birthday wishes, she would notice the silence of someone she barely knew.
A question surfaced before she could stop it.
Did she not know it was my birthday?
Or… did she simply not think of me at all?
Lin smiled for the camera, but her gaze drifted for a fraction of a second beyond the lens.
A colleague teased, laughing,
"Lin, you look like you're daydreaming on your birthday."
She answered lightly,
"No, just a bit tired."
No one noticed the faint disappointment she carried with her.
After the evening events ended, she sat alone in the car as the lights dimmed, and finally allowed herself to check her phone again.
Still nothing from Yeh.
She let out a soft breath, half a sigh, half a joke to herself.
"Never mind. She probably doesn't care that much."
She locked the screen.