It was a morning like any other. Apollo’s alarm clock screeched to life, and he winced, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm as he blindly reached for his bedside table. As the screeching stopped, he laid there, arm dangling off his futon.
There was something wrong.
Apollo couldn’t quite place it, but there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something important he was forgetting. Frowning, he sat up, grabbing his phone and fumbling it on, wracking his brain. Something important. Something important. What could it…?
The screen flashed to life, with a time and a date, and…
...oh…
Apollo blinked. Once. Twice. Of course. It was his birthday today. That’s what he must’ve forgotten.
He sighed to himself, yawning as he pulled himself to his feet. His birthday. His twenty-fourth one, in fact. Not exactly a milestone, save for surviving another full trip around the sun. Hardly seemed worth celebrating, though he was sure Clay was already preparing some sort of ridiculous surprise for—
…for…
Apollo stopped short. Oh. Oh, that was what he was forgetting.
Standing on the cold hardwood floor, Apollo glanced back down at the phone in his hand. It made sense, now, why he forgot.
It was quiet in his apartment, save for the occasional creaking of pipes. It had been quiet for a while, since he and Clay had to find apartments closer to their respective workplaces. But Clay had promised to come over as often as he could, seeing as Apollo was going to be devastated without his favorite roommate.
“Don’t worry, ‘Pollo, if you want, I can set your TV to start blasting anime at 7:30 every day. You won’t even notice I’m gone. And whenever we throw a party, I’ll make sure it’s still at your place—”
“You know what? I think I’m going to be glad you’re gone. It’ll be quiet for once.”
It was quiet now.
Apollo stood there a moment longer, until something brushed against his leg. He glanced down. “Oh, I’m sorry, was I taking too long?” he muttered, as Mikeko purred expectantly. “Was I taking too long to feed you with the cat food that I bought? Wow. How selfish…” Mikeko simply meowed, and Apollo rolled his eyes, walking the five feet to his bowl.
It was a quiet morning. Slow. He showered and dressed, only getting through half of his morning vocal routine before petering off into silence. The milk in his fridge was starting to sour, so he opted to try to finish off the yogurt nearing its expiration. As he ate, he glanced at his phone again. No messages. He reached over, swiping up with one thumb.
No Older Notifications
“What?! What do you mean your birthday was a month ago?!”
“What’s the big deal,” Apollo snapped, plopping onto the bus seat before immediately being shoved over toward the window so Clay could sit beside him. “It’s a birthday, it’s not like it matters.”
“But—But it’s your birthday!” Clay exclaimed, waving his arms as Apollo pulled his ratty red backpack into his lap to avoid being completely squashed. “You gotta celebrate your birthday! Didn’t you have a party or something?”
Apollo wrinkled his nose. “A party? No. Why would I?” He hugged his backpack to his chest as the bus started forward. “It’s not like anyone’s ever cared. Or remembered. I don’t usually notice until like a month after anyway, it’s not a big deal.”
It was quiet for a few moments, which was an odd occurrence for Clay Terran. Apollo sent him a glance, seeing an oddly stormy look on his face. “...what?”
“That’s it, buster,” Clay snapped, glaring with the full force a middle schooler could muster. “I’m throwing you a party.”
“What?”
“I’m calling my dad right now!” Clay declared, already pulling out his new phone, much to Apollo’s horror. “And we’re gonna make it space themed and—”
“Hey! Hey, cut it out, it’s not a big deal, I-I don’t need a party!”
“Of course it’s a big deal!” Clay shot back with a scowl. “No best friend of mine is going partyless on his birthday! That’s not fair.”
“I’ve been thirteen for a month!” Apollo protested, ears turning red as several other kids glanced their way, whispering to each other. “We already missed it. It’s fine!”
Clay frowned to himself. “...Then I’ll throw you a party next year,” he declared, prodding his friend. “And the year after that, and the year after that.” After a few more prods for good measure, he pulled up a calendar on his phone. “Now what day is it? I gotta put it in my phone so I never miss it again.”
Apollo’s phone chimed. He jumped, suddenly back in his empty kitchen, shaking the memory off as he picked up the phone again. For a moment, he thought maybe he’d gotten a text. Instead he was greeted by his calendar pinging, reminding him it was time to leave for work. Apollo stared at it for a few moments, before clicking the screen off and returning to his yogurt.
It was going to be a long day, wasn’t it.
///
“Morning, Apollo,” Phoenix greeted as Apollo shut the office door behind him. “You’re late.”
“Sorry, Mr. Wright. There was construction on the way over.”
“No worries. I’m just used to you being the first one here.” He took a sip of coffee. “Speaking of which, could you still water Charley? I think I forgot when I came in.”
Apollo rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah.” He dropped his bag at his desk, jogging over to the small bathroom, swiping the cup out of Charley’s pot on his way there. As he poured the water onto Charley’s roots, he rubbed at his eye again, yawning. “Any word from Athena? What’s her ETA?”
“Oh, you know Athena,” Phoenix said with a chuckle. “If she’s here within the hour, I’ll call it a good day—”
“GUYS!”
The door burst open. Apollo jumped, water spilling all over his shoes. “Aw come on—!”
“Athena,” Phoenix greeted with a laugh. “You’re practically on time!”
“Sorry,” Athena wheezed, wiping at her face as she doubled over, panting in the open doorway. “There’s some construction...so I had to...jog…”
“How the heck does that get you to work faster?!” Apollo snapped, shaking his now-drenched foot as he tossed the cup down.
“I...dunno…” She took a few breaths. “But we...we got a package!”
“A package?” Phoenix frowned, as Athena straightened back up, looking at the small brown box in her hand as she fixed her hair.
“Yup.” She cocked her head as she looked it over. “Oh, actually, Apollo, I think it’s for you.”
Apollo froze, only halfway in his seat. “What?!”
“Yup! Apollo Justice. Right here on the label.” Athena tossed him the box, which he scrambled for.
“H-Hey! Watch it! What if this was fragile?!”
“They usually say fragile on it if it’s fragile, right?”
“Right…” Apollo sat there, staring blankly at the box in his hands. It was small, a little under a foot long and several inches wide. His own name stared back at him on the label of the package. Just those two little words. Apollo Justice.
“Say Apollo,” Phoenix called, crossing his arms over his desk, “why do you always send your packages to the Agency anyway?”
“Actually, I thought people said it’s safer to send packages to your place of business,” Athena replied, setting her bag down by her own desk. “Less likely to be stolen off your porch, you know?”
“Really? Huh, that’s smart, maybe I should start doing that.”
“So what’d you order, Apollo?”
“I...I don’t...” Quickly, he started wracking his brain. No one had ever remembered his birthday before, other than Clay. Had Clay sent this before he…? But it had been months, it would’ve certainly arrived before then. Or had someone else actually remembered his birthday? Did someone else care? But who? He didn't see a name anywhere, other than his own.
He reached for the top of the box. Why were his hands shaking? Why was his heart pounding so fast? Had someone actually remembered? He scraped at the tape for a moment with his fingernails, before scrambling for his novelty letter opener, slicing through and pulling open the top, turning the box over and spilling out a smaller box onto his desk.
And he stared at it. And stared. And stared. Until finally, Athena peaked over his shoulder and grinned. “Oh! Hey, you finally bought one of those electric toothbrushes.”
“...Yeah,” Apollo replied softly. “I did.”
And he had. He’d purchased one of those electric toothbrushes Athena had been bragging about a while ago. He figured he could splurge for once, so he’d bought it online, sending it to the Agency. And there it was, the toothbrush he’d bought himself.
The toothbrush he’d bought himself.
“Apollo?” Athena was frowning at him as he glanced her way, still clutching the empty packaging in his hands. “You okay? You sound kind of disappointed. Were you waiting on something else?”
His eyes drifted back down. There was his name on the shipping box, staring mockingly back at him.
“...No. I wasn’t.”
///
“Surprise!”
Apollo yelped, almost kicking Clay in the face as he suddenly jumped onto Apollo’s bed. He sat up, grabbing onto the mattress so he wasn’t simply launched off somewhere. “Clay?! What the hell?! What are you doing—?!”
“Happy birthday, dude!” And Clay was holding a small cake in his hands, grinning proudly. “What do you think, should we start singing?”
Apollo blinked. Apollo blinked again. “Clay it’s nine am. It’s Saturday.”
“Yeah? And?”
Apollo groaned, flopping back in his bed. “I swear, why are you like this? Just because we’re roommates now doesn’t mean you can just bust down the door whenever you want.”
“Come on, it’s my best friend’s birthday. One of us has to be excited about it.”
“I cannot wait until the day you forget about it,” Apollo muttered, rubbing at his face. Clay almost looked scandalized, grabbing his chest, and Apollo rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. “Why are you more excited than I am?”
“Come on, you know you love it.” Clay prodded Apollo’s cheek. “Just admit it.”
“Not in a million years.” He prodded Clay back. “One day you’re going to miss a birthday and I’m going to celebrate that.”
“Not in two million years,” Clay replied. “Now get up, this cake isn’t eating itself.”
///
There was a clock on the wall, ticking quietly as they worked in silence. They’d finished a trial a few days ago, and there was paperwork to be filed, after all. Apollo was the fastest at that, so most of it was in his to-do pile.
Even so, it was slow going. A quiet day. Uneventful. For once in his life, Apollo wished it wasn’t. He wished there was a case. Some client to come sweeping in with a frustratingly complicated murder mystery. A puzzle to solve, something exhausting and confusing and anything other than just sitting here in his own thoughts.
He sighed, glancing at his phone again, lying face up on the desk beside his computer. He swiped up.
No Older Notifications
He stared at the words again. Glancing up toward Athena and Phoenix, he pulled the phone under the desk and opened some social media. Immediately a stream of balloons drifted across the screen.
No notifications. No messages. No tags.
He shut his eyes, exing out. Of course no one messaged him. How many people even knew it was his birthday? It’s not like he’d ever mentioned it. He hadn’t planned anything, nor had he ever done so. He didn’t even care that much about his birthday regularly. The only one who had ever cared was...
He swallowed, ignoring the tightness in his throat, and set his phone back on his desk, face down this time. It didn’t matter. No one was going to remember. He shouldn’t expect any of them to remember, they weren’t mind readers. It was unreasonable. It was stupid. He didn’t even care that much, why would he want to make a big deal about it?
Suddenly the door burst open again. “Hi guys!” Trucy said, practically skipping into the room. “Happy Wednesday!”
A pang in his chest, even as Athena and Phoenix chimed back a chorus of “Happy Wednesday”s. He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Isn’t it a little early to be out of school?” he asked dryly.
“Well, yeah, but my last period is a study hall, so I get to leave early,” Trucy said, bouncing on her toes. “Besides.” And she grinned, leaning in, “Today’s a special day.”
Apollo’s breath caught in his chest. “...H-Huh?” Of course. Of course Trucy would know, she was the one who did all of the taxes. She had to know his birthday. He gave her a sheepish smile, sinking in his seat as he rubbed his head, feeling his face reddening already. “O-Oh. Uh. I...didn’t think anyone would remember. It’s not—It’s not that big a deal though—”
“Not that big of a deal?” Trucy snapped with a pout. “Of course it’s a big deal, Apollo! Don’t be silly.”
He laughed. “Really, I don’t mind, I didn’t need anything anyw—”
“Tah dah~!” A flourish, and then with a small poof of smoke, she was holding an envelope. “Here ya go, Polly!”
“Oh. A...what did you…?” He grabbed the envelope, frowning in confusion, and flipping it over. It was an official business envelope, addressed from the Wright Anything Agency. He could see his name through clear plastic in the corner.
“You’re welcome!” Trucy chirped, spinning on her heels. “And one for Athena~, and one for Daddy~!” Two more identical envelopes, spinning effortlessly from Trucy’s hands to his coworkers desks, before she spun back toward Apollo, hands on her hips with a pout. “I can’t believe you thought I forgot about payday!”
“Oh nice! Thanks Trucy!” Athena called, stowing hers away.
“Yeah, though I don’t know if you necessarily need to give me one,” Phoenix added, rubbing his chin.
“Daddy, it’s important to keep your business and private finances separate.”
“I mean yeah, but...” He sighed, shaking his head. “Well, thanks, Truce.”
“Of course!”
Apollo sat frozen where he was, envelope gripped tightly in his hands. After a moment, he forced his hands down, setting the envelope on the desk and pushing it under his new toothbrush. “...Happy Wednesday…”
///
“Hey Apollo.”
Apollo paused, glancing up at his boss standing over his desk as the day began to wrap up. “What?”
“You doing anything after work?”
Apollo stiffened, eyes going wide for a moment. Then he gritted his teeth. It’s not a birthday thing. It’s not a birthday thing. Stop getting excited, you know Mr. Wright doesn’t care. “No,” he said cautiously, trying desperately to force down the flutter of hope in his chest. “Nothing in particular. Why?”
Phoenix sighed in relief. “Oh great.” And then there was a manila folder on Apollo’s desk. “I’m super busy today, do you think you could run this to the Prosecutor’s Office when you head out?”
“......oh.” Of course he was asking you for a favor. What did you expect? It’s Mr. Wright. He always wants you do so something for him. “W...W-Well I…”
“Come on, I’ll even let you have one of the pudding cups in the mini fridge for free,” Phoenix added with a grin. “What do you say?”
Apollo wanted to scream, but he forced it down. “Why not Athena? She has a car.”
“Oh! Uh.” A momentary flash of panic on Athena’s face. “W-Well I can’t! Because. I. Have a Zumba class.”
Apollo almost rolled his eyes, already feeling his bracelet tighten. “Isn’t your Zumba class in like two hours, Miss Tappy-Toes?”
“Yes, well,” Athena tapped her earring as the others looked her way, forcing her foot to stop tapping. “I have a few errands to run before it, so I really don’t really have the time.”
“...sure.” Apollo glanced back at Phoenix. “And why exactly can’t you do it, huh?”
“Oh, I promised Trucy I’d help her with some prepwork,” Phoenix replied with a shrug. “Sorry. But hey, it sounds like you’re free for the evening, huh?”
“Well… But it’s…” The words caught in his throat. Half of him wanted to just scream it, scream it at the top of his lungs like some spoiled, selfish, petulant child. It’s my birthday! It’s my birthday and no I don’t have any plans but… It’s my birthday and you probably don’t even care and… It’s my birthday and it’s… It’s…
“...Okay, fine.”
“Great!” And Phoenix clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “Thanks, Apollo.”
He wasn’t doing anything anyway. What did it matter? They probably wouldn’t care. Or would they just feel bad for him? Poor little baby, no one even noticed it was his special day. How sad. How pathetic.
“Alright, see you around, Apollo!” Phoenix said, turning and walking back to his desk, gathering his things. “Text me when you deliver it, alright?”
“Oh, you know what? I should get going too,” Athena said, hopping to her feet. “See you all tomorrow!”
Apollo sat there in silence as the two grabbed their things and disappeared out the door with a final cheery wave back at him. And then the office was engulfed in silence.
Apollo sat there a while longer, staring at the wall as the clock ticked. Slowly, he began to gather his things. A single manila folder. A paycheck. A toothbrush.
“...Happy birthday to me…Happy birthday to me…Happy birthday dear Apollo………”
He flipped the lights off as he left.
///
“Okay, but do we really have to have a party?” Apollo muttered, rubbing at his face with a scowl as Luigi fell to his death on the screen. “Come on, it’s just going to be the two of us, why do we need to celebrate it?”
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Clay told him, ruffling Apollo’s hair until he was swatted away. “A birthday only comes once a year.”
“Yeah, and I’ve had plenty of years already,” Apollo snapped back, watching Mario run and jump and collide with the pole as Clay fist pumped. “Plus we already celebrated yours this year, why celebrate mine too? It’s not that exciting.”
“I mean, hey, every trip around the sun is its own little miracle, you know?”
Apollo snorted. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” Clay reached over, grabbing some chips out of a bag on the floor. “At least, that’s what my mom always used to say.”
Apollo paused, a retort dying on his lips, glancing over to Clay as he began navigating to the next Super Mario world.
“...Alright, fine. You win. But if you jump out at me again, you might not be getting another trip around the sun.”
“Ooo, what’re you gonna do, Noodle Arms?”
“Don’t call me Noodle Arms!” Clay laughed as Apollo swatted at him, reaching out, pulling Apollo into a headlock, and soon, Apollo found himself laughing along too.
///
The Prosecutor’s Office was bustling, as usual, as Apollo locked up his bike and slipped in through the double doors up front. Crime, he supposed, was just always happening somewhere in the city.
He sighed, pulling on the straps of his backpack as he wove his way through the meandering throng, glancing around. His boss hadn’t actually mentioned who the envelope was for, though he’d assumed the Chief Prosecutor was the most likely suspect. Maybe he should text? He began fishing through his pocket, until—
“Herr Forehead!”
Before he could even groan, there was an arm around his shoulders, and a grinning prosecutor in his face. “What a pleasant surprise, seeing you in my neck of the woods for once.”
“Hey, Prosecutor Gavin,” Apollo muttered, glancing up as Klavier leaned in.
“Well, how can I help you, Herr Forehead? What brings you here today?”
“I’m just dropping something off,” Apollo said, reaching back into his bag and drawing out the folder, already feeling his face warming at the proximity to Klavier's. “Any chance you know who it’s for?”
Klavier considered it for a moment, before swiping it out of Apollo’s hands. “I’ll tell you what, I’d be happy to deliver this for you.”
“Oh. Uh. Great.” More time to go home to his empty apartment. How wonderful.
“Bitte,” Klavier replied, tucking the file under his arm before returning his attention to Apollo. “Is that everything? I’d be happy to help with something else if you need.”
Apollo glanced at him, Klavier’s arm still solidly over his shoulder. “N-No, I’m...I’m fine.”
There was a split second of disappointment, before, “Achtung! Well, if you’re sure.” And then Klavier’s arm was gone, and he was stepping backward. “Well, let me know if you change your mind. My door is always open for you, ja?”
“J-Ja—Err, yeah. Right. Thanks.” Apollo forced a small smile as Klavier turned.
He never really understood Klavier. He was always so friendly, despite the fact they were on opposing sides of the bench. He was always so open, and nice, always happy to help, to be there. They'd gotten coffee a couple of times since their last court case together, but Apollo wasn't sure if that made them friends or not. Heck, Klavier probably already had a million other friends to pay attention to, so he was probably just humoring Apollo.
Still though. He was nice to talk to.
Apollo stood there, watching as Klavier disappeared down a hallway, toward the elevators. And suddenly Apollo was being strangled by the overwhelming need to not be alone.
“W-W-Wait, uh, Prosecutor Gavin!”
He charged off, shoving past a few figures and dashing around the corner. Klavier was already waiting in front of the elevators, glancing back. “Ach, Herr Forehead. It’s been so long.” He grinned, leaning in. “Did you miss me that much already?”
“N-No, I—I mean—” Apollo shifted, suddenly at a complete loss of what to say. What was he even doing? He barely knew Klavier, why would he think Klavier would actually care? “I, uh...sorry to bother you, I just…”
“Ja?” Klavier was smiling brightly, and Apollo swallowed.
Don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me alone, I don’t want to be alone today— “Were you…doing anything today?”
Klavier froze. The elevator dinged in front of him, but he made no movement toward it. “What?”
“I just… I’m…” Apollo rubbed his head with a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t doing anything today, so I thought maybe you’d have a minute to spare, you'd want to get coffee again? …Um...but if you’re busy, that's fine…”
Several expressions crossed Klavier’s face at once. Shock. Amazement. Regret. He groaned slightly, sighing, brushing at his bangs. “Why is it the one time I’m busy…”
Apollo could already feel himself deflating as Klavier frowned. “…oh.”
“Nein, I—Listen, Herr Forehead, I would love to,” Klavier said, leaning his head back with a groan as the elevator behind him closed. “Really, I would love to but—”
“No, it’s fine,” Apollo interrupted quickly, ignoring the cold disappointment settling in his stomach. “It’s—Really. It’s fine.”
“Perhaps tomorrow?” Klavier shot back quickly. “Or the day after, I have plenty of time—”
“It’s fine, really. Just, uh. Thanks for the help.” Apollo took a step back, giving him a halfhearted grin. “I’ll see you some other time, Prosecutor Gavin.”
“J-Ja, um. Another time.”
They stood there a moment longer. Then Apollo turned, walking off, hearing a quiet “Scheisse” behind him as the elevator dinged again.
///
Apollo could hear the sound of construction far off in the distance as he wobbled up to the bike rack outside his apartment. He hopped off his bicycle, fishing in his bag for his lock and securing it to the rack.
He made his way over to the front doors, stepping carefully up the chipping concrete stairs. For a split second he went to reach for his keys, but stopped himself, sighing and simply pulling the door open. “They really need to fix this thing,” he muttered, stepping inside. How long had that front door been busted anyway?
He pulled open his mailbox, pulling out a pile of envelopes. Bill. Bill. Credit card offer. To The Previous Tenant. Finally, he sighed, tossing away the garbage and slipping the bills into his bag. Turning, he glanced around the empty first floor, hesitating in front of the elevator before thinking better of it and making his way toward the stairs.
He really hated this apartment complex. Sure, he hadn’t exactly had a ton of options when he and Clay had moved out of their last place, but still. Surely they could’ve fixed that horrible creaking elevator. Or maybe hired a doorman if they weren’t going to replace the locks on the front door? The security was terrible, he couldn’t believe how often he would get home and Trucy had somehow gotten into his apartment to greet him—
He froze in place.
Trucy knew his address. Trucy had snuck into his apartment plenty of times.
Everyone was busy this evening. Athena was especially being cagey about things. And Phoenix had said ‘prepwork,’ not ‘preparing for a show.’
Even Klavier had been busy tonight. And Klavier had a car, he could’ve easily beaten him to his apartment.
He stood there, hand on the railing, feeling his heart picking up. Had...Had they been trying to surprise him? Had they been trying to trick him? Was this all some elaborate ploy, some silly joke?
Had someone actually remembered?
He clenched his jaw tightly, trying to ignore the way his heart was suddenly clenching in his chest. No, he was overanalyzing things. No one was going to be waiting in his apartment to jump out at him. That was a Clay thing, that was something Clay would do. And Clay was gone. Clay was gone and no one else was going to notice. So he was overreacting. Right?
Slowly, he stepped forward, one step at a time. Each step, Apollo could feel his heart pounding in his throat. There’s no one there, he insisted. No one is going to be there. There’s no surprise party. You’re just setting yourself up for more disappointment. There’s no one there.
Suddenly he was on his landing. He swallowed, heart hammering hard. He forced his feet down the hallway, floorboard creaking with each step. His door stood at the end of the hall, and he reached forward, hand shaking as he grabbed the handle and fumbled for the keys. And then he pushed the door open.
It was dark inside. He took a shaky breath, stepping past the threshold, reaching for a light switch. “Hello?” A click, and the room was bathed in light.
And there he stood in his empty apartment.
There was a cold, deafening silence. No movement. No one hiding behind the futon he used as a bed. No one jammed into the open doorway of his bathroom. No one lying in wait in the kitchenette. No friends or family hiding just out of sight. No one. Empty.
Certainly no Clay.
Apollo stood there for a moment. A small head peaked out from under his TV stand and darted over, before Apollo stopped him with his foot, shutting the door behind him with a far too loud click.
“Hey there, Mikeko,” he murmured. Mikeko brushed up against his leg, the way he only did when begging for food. “You’re hungry, huh, bud?”
Mikeko mewled, darting off toward his food bowl in the little kitchenette across the room. Apollo swallowed again. “Give me a second I’m coming,” he called, toeing off his shoes. “...Just...Just you and me tonight, huh?” And then, before he even realized he was crying, he was on his knees, sobbing weakly into his own hands.
///
It was a morning like any other. Apollo’s alarm clock screeched to life, and he winced, forcing an eye open. He felt like death warmed over, eyes heavy and leaden as he reached out, resetting his alarm for the next day. And he laid there for a few minutes more, hand on his alarm clock, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Apollo lay there as long as he could, until a small face began to nose at his cheek. He let out a weak chuckle, reaching up to scratch at Mikeko’s head. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I not feeding you fast enough?” he mumbled, forcing himself up and rubbing his eyes. They still stung a bit. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for another hour, but he was already starting to push his luck with getting to work on time. He pulled himself the rest of the way from the bed, dragging himself to Mikeko’s food bowl.
It took a little extra time to get himself showered and dressed and ready to go, but soon he was climbing onto his bike, shooting a message to the work group text that he may be running late. It was windy, making the trek all the harder as he pedaled down the street, feeling gross and sweaty as he arrived and chained up his bike. Then he dragged himself up the stairs, up to the entrance of the Wright Anything Agency.
He could see his reflection faintly in the clouded glass of the door. His eyes were tired, his spikes were already drooping. His collar was crooked. He’d barely looked at himself in the mirror that morning, not even bothering with his voice routine. Sighing again, he started trying to make himself presentable. You’re fine, he told himself, flicking his hair up. It never mattered anyway. Just suck it up and get back to work. And he grabbed the handle. “Sorry I’m late everyone—”
“SURPRISE!”
Apollo screamed, almost backhanding Athena as several people leapt at him. He hit the doorframe with a loud thump, and then just stood there, blinking. “Wh...Wha…?”
“Happy Birthday Apollo!” There were several overlapping voices, and then there was music, and they were singing and was that Klavier playing the guitar, and where did all these streamers come from and—
“What the heck?!” Apollo shouted over the ruckus, eyes wide.
“Happy birthday!” Trucy repeated, smiling ear to ear. “Did we surprise you?”
“Oh we absolutely surprised him,” Athena told her, grinning as well, Widget glowing a smug green. “Did you hear him scream?”
“Oh I heard it,” Phoenix said, wincing. “Kind of wish I hadn’t.”
“Wh...What are...When did…” Apollo straightened up, taking in the room. There was Trucy, and Athena, and Phoenix, and Klavier with his guitar. There were streamers and a few balloons. There was a large tray of something wrapped up in foil on his desk. There were a few of those little gift bags beside them.
“...Trucy, you know my birthday was yesterday, right?”
Trucy laughed, bouncing on her toes. “Well yeah? But you’d obviously be expecting it if we did it on your actual birthday.”
When Apollo didn’t answer her, she grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward. “We've been planning this for forever! Daddy and I spent all yesterday afternoon making cupcakes, and Athena and Mr. Gavin got to decorate the office, and—” As she glanced back at him, she froze. “...Apollo? What’s wrong?”
“I…” Oh no, he could already feeling his breathing starting to hitch, his eyes starting to sting, rubbing quickly at them as he yanked his hand away. “I-I...didn’t...I thought…”
“Oh no, Apollo, are you alright?” Athena was next to him in an instant, already looking teary-eyed.
“I’m fine,” he forced out, feeling the others gathering around him in concern. “I’m not—I’m not crying, stop looking at me…”
“Oh, no, Apollo, don’t cry!” Suddenly several people were hugging him, and Apollo was shaking, and oh no, oh no, oh no, oh god.
“Aw, Apollo, it’s okay!”
“Polly please don’t cry!”
“Schatzi, are you alright?”
“I didn’t—I didn’t think—I thought you—” He sniffled, wiping at his face, already burning in embarrassment. “...Ugh, come on...”
He felt a tissue being shoved in his face and he scowled up, finding Phoenix with a box of tissues. “Come on, deep breath, Apollo.”
“This is your guys’ fault,” Apollo protested, grabbing the tissue and wiping at his face. “I...I didn’t think anyone remembered.”
“In my defense, I thought the Fraulein meant your birthday was today,” Klavier said quickly, giving a sheepish smile.
“And I did actually have a Zumba class, so we couldn’t do the party yesterday,” Athena explained.
There was the crinkling of aluminum foil, and suddenly Phoenix was holding up a tray of bright red cupcakes, the words ‘Happy Birthday’ written on top in blue frosting. “Now, who wants some of these? I didn’t slave away in front of the hot oven for nothing.”
Apollo managed a laugh, wiping his face awkwardly with another tissue. “Since when do you know how to bake?”
“Never ask me that again.”
Before he could ask any follow up questions to that statement, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his midsection. He glanced down, at Trucy’s smiling face.
“Happy birthday, Apollo,” she whispered.
Apollo blinked down at her, then up at the rest of the room. Athena and Phoenix were attempting to ration out cupcakes. Klavier was pulling out some candles, sending Apollo a warm smile. For a moment, he could imagine Clay there with them, laughing at Apollo’s probably snotty nose and embarrassment, and Apollo found himself laughing too.
“Thank you guys.”