Jay's POV
The sunlight hit my face before the alarm did.
For a second, I forgot what day it was—until my eyes landed on the glass jar sitting on my desk.
366 tiny paper stars. Each one folded with a thought, a memory, a piece of us.
Cin's birthday.
I exhaled, sitting up. "Right. Today."
It had been a while since I'd gone anywhere that reminded me of them.
But today wasn't about the past, or Section E, or Keifer.
It was about Cin. My Cin.
The one who didn't deserve the storm we all got trapped in.
Still, the thought of seeing them again made my stomach twist. I could already feel the weight of eyes, whispers, and guilt pressing down on me.
So I decided something—
If I was walking into their world again, I wasn't going as the broken version they left behind.
I was going as me.
Stronger. Sharper. Unrecognizable.
I opened my closet and ignored the hoodies and baggy jeans. Instead, my hand brushed over a thigh-length, satin bodycon dress — deep midnight blue with silver undertones that caught the morning light every time I moved.
The neckline dipped slightly, elegant but not loud; the sleeves off-shoulder, revealing just enough to make confidence my armor.I remember stella giving that as a 'you might need it someday.. '
I paired it with soft silver hoops, a dainty bracelet, and a pair of sleek black heels — the kind I'd usually curse under my breath about, but today they felt like a statement.
"Fine," I muttered at my reflection. "Let's give them something to stare at."
Stella knocked and peeked in, half-asleep. "Jay what's going on? 'She stopped half shocked,half amusement "You… wearing that?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling faintly. " Stell I need you, I need your magic. Makeup. Hair. Everything."
She blinked but didn't argue. Within minutes, the room smelled like curling spray and perfume. My reflection slowly changed — eyes lined dark, lashes brushed up, lips painted in a rose shade that made me look soft but not fragile. My hair fell in loose, shiny curls that brushed against my shoulders.
When Stella finally stepped back, she grinned. "If Section E sees you like this, they're gonna forget how to breathe."
"Good," I said, slipping into my heels, feeling the satisfying click against the floor. "Let them."
I grabbed Cin's gift carefully and stepped out.
By the time I reached his condo building, my heart was racing faster than it should've. The city felt louder, the air thicker.
"Jay!"
I turned to see Rakki jogging up. My old friend. Familiar. Safe.
"Long time," she said, smiling warmly. "You look… wow."
"Yeah, I had to make an entrance," I joked weakly.
She didn't push for details I could see it in her eyes— she knew about what happened with Section E, knew how deep it cut. Instead, she linked her arm with mine. "So? You ready for this circus?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," I said, clutching the glass jar closer.
We got into the lift. Rakki chatted lightly about her classes, the new café nearby, random things to fill the silence. But the higher we went, the quieter I got.
Floor 10.
My palms were sweating.
"Breathe," Rakki whispered.
"I'm fine," I lied.
Ding.
The doors slid open.
Music, laughter, familiar voices.
Rakki stepped out first.
Then I saw him — David.
He turned just as Rakki greeted him, his smile fading the moment his eyes found me.
The shock on his face was brief, replaced by something softer. Regret, maybe. Relief.
He took a step closer, voice low
"Jay… you came," David said again, voice soft — like he still couldn't believe it.
He looked different, somehow. A little older, a little more tired. His usual teasing spark was dimmed but not gone.
"I was actually on my way to pick you up," he added, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Didn't think you'd—"
I arched a brow, crossing my arms. "Pick me up? What, did you think I forgot how to walk?"
He let out a low laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. "Old habits die hard."
"Well," I smirked, flicking my curls back. "Next time you try playing chauffeur, make sure to call first. I charge by the minute now."
That earned me a real smile — the kind that reached his eyes, the one I remembered from when things weren't so complicated.
He turned to head inside, but something made me stop him. "Wait, David."
He glanced back, curious.
I held out the glass jar, the one full of paper stars. My hands trembled slightly, but I forced them steady. "Give this to Cin. Tell him… tell him happy birthday from me."
For a moment, he just stared — eyes flicking from the jar to my face — and then that soft, warm smile bloomed again.
"Jay," he said quietly, "his birthday would've been incomplete without you."
Something twisted in my chest. I didn't reply. I just nodded, took a breath that hurt more than it should've, and followed him in.
—
The moment I stepped inside, my brain stuttered.
This wasn't the kind of party I expected. Not even close.
There were balloons — bright, colorful ones in ridiculous shapes — confetti cannons, a freaking inflatables slide, and a man dressed as a giant bear handing out cotton candy. Kids ran around laughing, faces smeared with icing, music far too cheerful for my current mental state.
I blinked. "This is… Cin's birthday party?"
Rakki elbowed me, grinning. "Told you Cin never grew up."
I couldn't help it — a laugh escaped me, soft and surprised.
And then I saw him.
Cin stood near the cake table, wearing a stupid party hat, laughing at something Edrix said. He looked so Cin — the same warm grin, the same energy that used to light up every room in Section E before things fell apart.
He turned.
And the second his eyes met mine, the laughter stopped. His expression crumbled — surprise, disbelief, and then something rawer.
"Jay?" he whispered, voice almost breaking.
I barely managed a small smile before he crossed the distance between us, almost running.
The next thing I knew, his arms were around me.
Tight. Desperate. Trembling.
And just like that, Cin — the ever-loud, ever-happy one — broke down against my shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm so, so sorry."
I froze for a second, the noise of the party fading into silence around us. Slowly, I lifted a hand, resting it on his back.
For the first time in months, it didn't feel like enemies or betrayal or guilt.
It just felt like us.
Like family trying to find its way back.....
Cin's POV:
I'd told myself I wouldn't cry.
Not today — not when everyone was watching, not when Section E was pretending to be normal for the first time in months.
But then she walked in.
Jay Jay.
She wasn't supposed to. I had convinced myself she wouldn't, that maybe the paper-star jar was just a story David made up to comfort me.
And then there she was — standing at the door in that soft dress the type she swore she'd never wear, the one that caught the light and made her look like she'd stepped out of a memory. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor which even if someone paid her she wouldn't wear, steady, confident, but her eyes…
Her eyes were the same. Tired. Guarded. Beautiful.
Every laugh I'd faked this morning disappeared. Every balloon, every stupid mascot blurred behind her.
My throat tightened. The world tilted.
I wanted to run, but my body moved on its own.
Before I knew it, I was in front of her, staring like an idiot.
She gave a small, unsure smile — the kind you give someone you once knew by heart but aren't sure you're allowed to love anymore.
That was it. The wall inside me shattered.
I didn't care that the others were watching.
I pulled her into a hug so tight it hurt, like maybe if I held her long enough, I could undo everything that happened.
"Jay," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
She didn't answer, not right away. Her body was still, her hands awkwardly frozen by her sides.
And then, slowly, she exhaled — a sound between a sigh and a sob — and one of her hands came up to rest on my back.
It was small, hesitant. But it was there.
That single touch broke me completely.
All the lies, the orders, the guilt — it all came rushing back. The way we let her walk into the storm alone while we told ourselves it was for her safety.
I thought I was protecting her. I thought if I stayed silent, it would hurt less.
But watching her fall apart and pretending not to notice… that was the real betrayal.
"I never wanted to be part of it," I whispered, voice cracking. "I tried to stop them. Keifer— he said it was necessary, that we needed control. But I—" I swallowed hard. "I didn't want to lose you too."
I broke down completely...
"You made me feel what family is supposed to be Jay you weren't my st but my ate who cared for me unconditionally.. I'm sorry Jay Jay... "
Her head tilted just slightly, enough for me to see the shimmer in her eyes.
We stood there for what felt like forever — two people who'd broken something they didn't know how to fix.
"Cin," she murmured finally, her voice quiet but certain, "you were the only one who didn't look away when everything burned. You could've, but you didn't."
And then she stepped back, looking up at me with a sad smile.
"I forgive you. Ate isn't angry anymore.."
It was simple, soft, but it hit harder than any scream or cry could.
My knees almost gave out. I wanted to ask why, how she could still find that kindness in her heart after everything. But her eyes told me the answer — she was tired of hating people who once made her feel alive.
So I just nodded, wiping my face, laughing weakly through the tears.
"Happy birthday to me, huh?" I joked, voice breaking halfway through.
And for the first time in a long time, Jay smiled — not the polite one, not the bitter one — but the real, genuine one I thought I'd never see again.
Jay's POV:
Forgiveness wasn't easy. It wasn't clean or pretty.
It was messy, painful, and full of everything I still didn't know how to say.
But looking at Cin — his eyes red, his smile trembling — I realized maybe forgiveness wasn't about forgetting.
Maybe it was about remembering who someone truly was before the world turned cruel.
So I smiled through the ache, squeezed his hand once, and whispered,
"Yeah, happy birthday, idiot."