JAY-JAY POV
I got ready.
I slipped into my sky blue dress — the one that made me feel like I could handle anything. Even surprise attacks from Percy. Even whatever "surprise" Kuya Angelo was plotting.
Natural makeup. Just enough to feel like me, but polished. Just enough to hide the fact that I hadn't slept because someone (Keifer) decided kisses were a currency.
I stared at my reflection.
Birthday girl. Eighteen. Still slightly terrified.
Downstairs, Kuya Jare was already ready — standing like a magazine cover in motion.
His sky blue suit was tailored, crisp, and unfairly handsome. Like he'd been born to match me.
"You took forever to come," Jare teased, adjusting his cuffs like he hadn't been pacing.
I rolled my eyes. "I don't just get ready. I arrive."
He snorted. "You arrive late."
I smirked. "Fashionably."
"Oh, Jay, you look so beautiful," Tita Gemma said, hands clasped like she was witnessing a miracle.
"Thank you, Tita," I said, smiling.
Aries leaned against the wall, smirking like he'd been waiting for this moment.
"Even a monkey looks better when they put on makeup."
I gasped. "Tita, look at Aries! He's teasing me!"
I fake baby-cried on cue, complete with sniffles and dramatic shoulder shakes.
Tita Gemma held back a laugh. "Don't listen to him. You look so beautiful."
Aries shrugged. "I'm just saying monkeys have good bone structure."
Kuya Angelo checked his watch like he was timing our nonsense.
"If you guys are done," he said, "let's go. We're going to be late."
I perked up. "Kuya, can I invite Section E?"
He didn't even blink. "They'll be there."
I blinked.
They'll be there? Section E? Already?
I turned to Jare. He looked just as alarmed.
This was going to be the best day of our lives… Or the loudest.
The car ride was chaos. Overlapping conversations. Someone singing off-key. Aries trying to convince Tita Gemma he should DJ. Percy threatening to jump out if anyone touched the aux cord.
Classic.
We arrived.
It looked like a house. A normal house. Suspiciously normal.
Percy stood outside, grinning like a villain in a rom-com.
He held out two blindfolds — one for me, one for Jare.
We stared at him.
"What are these?" I asked.
"You guys have the same brain," he muttered, handing them over like cursed objects.
Jare and I rolled our eyes at the exact same time.
Percy pointed at us. "See? Same brain. Creepy."
"Let me help you," Luna said, appearing like a calm breeze in the chaos.
She took Jare's blindfold and helped him put it on with the precision of someone who's done this before.
I held mine like it might bite me.
Whatever this surprise was… It was coming.
And I was either going to cry, scream, or both.
Someone guided me toward the door.
The blindfold came off.
And I forgot how to breathe.
The house wasn't a house anymore. It was a memory museum. A love letter. A riot.
Fairy lights dripped from the ceiling like stars. Sky blue and silver streamers twisted around every beam like vines. Photos — hundreds of them — covered the walls. Me and Jare as babies. Me and Jare in school uniforms. Me and Jare mid-chaos with Section E, blurry and laughing.
A banner stretched across the room: "Happy 18th to Our Favorite Chaos Twins"
I looked at Jare.
He looked just as shocked as I was. Happy-shocked. The kind that makes your heart stutter and your brain forget how to form words.
Everyone was there.
Mica. Ella. Rakki. Section E in full chaotic formation.
It was loud. It was beautiful. It was ours.
I didn't know what to say.
I just stood there, blinking, as they came one by one — hugging, laughing, handing over gifts wrapped in glitter and chaos.
Felix gave me a frog plushie. Ci-N handed me a USB labeled "Emotional Blackmail." Eman gave me a box of cookies shaped like stars. Drew sang his gift. Loudly. Calix gave me a poem that made no sense and made me cry anyway.
Jare was still frozen beside me, eyes wide, smile growing.
We were surrounded. We were loved.
And then—
I saw him.
Keifer.
Standing at the edge of the crowd, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on me like I was the only thing in the room.
He walked over slowly.
No chaos. No noise. Just him.
He hugged me — arms tight, head tucked near mine.
"Happy birthday, love," he whispered.
And just like that— I melted.
"Okay everyone, let's cut the cake!" Percy announced like he was hosting a royal banquet.
"Yes, finally," Ci-N groaned, already halfway to the dessert table.
We walked over together, Jare and I side by side.
The cake was ridiculous. Three layers. Chocolate. Our favorite.
Decorated with tiny stars, blue frosting, and a topper that said: "Chaos Twins Forever."
We cut the cake together — hands overlapping, laughter bubbling.
Then, like it was tradition, we fed each other a slice.
Jare smirked. "Don't drop it."
I smirked back. "Don't bite my fingers."
We both failed.
Chocolate on my cheek. Frosting on his nose.
Section E cheered like we'd won a championship.
"Save some cake for us too!" someone yelled — definitely Felix, definitely dramatic.
They came charging.
We fed them. They fed us.
Section E, one by one, handed us bites of cake like we were royalty.
It was messy. It was loud. It was perfect.
Jare had frosting on his cheek. I had crumbs in my hair. Someone threw a napkin. Someone yelled, "EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!"
And in the middle of it all—
I remembered.
Flashback
I was seven.
Mama was brushing my hair, gentle and slow, humming a song I never learned the words to. Papa was flipping pancakes shaped like stars. One looked like a shoe. He said it was intentional.
"Eighteen's a big one," Mama said, smiling like she could already see it.
"We'll throw the biggest celebration this house has ever seen," Papa added, "but you guys will still be our little prince and princess."
"Fairy lights. Music. Everyone you love," Mama whispered.
"And pancakes," Papa said. "Obviously."
I remember laughing. Jare threw a pancake at me. Papa caught it mid-air and winked.
Now
I blinked.
Fairy lights above me. Music in the air. Everyone I loved in one room.
And pancakes. Heart-shaped. Made by Eman, but still.
They kept their promise. Even if they weren't here to see it.
I didn't even know I was crying until I was.
Jare turned to me, eyes soft, voice low.
"Jay…"
I wiped at my face, but he beat me to it — thumb brushing away a tear like it was nothing.
"They would've loved this," I whispered.
"They would've made it louder," he said, smiling through his own glassy eyes.
I laughed. "Papa would've tried to DJ."
"And Mama would've banned him immediately."
We stood there, surrounded by chaos and confetti and cake crumbs, holding onto each other like the room might float away.
We were surrounded.
We were loved.
We were home.