Synopsis: It's JD's birthday and being the only one who cares about him, you make sure it's well celebrated.
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Your brother's seventeenth birthday was in a week and you were excited. So was he, but for a different reason.
Since the start of the month, you've seen mornings and afternoons of your brother trying to get a rise out of your dad by constantly mentioning his birthday, but to no one's surprise, your dad literally said nothing to it. Your dad doesn't care much about his kids, let alone their birthdays. You believe that even Jason himself stopped caring about his birthday, just using the date as a fun thing to try unsuccessfully aggravate dad with.
It's bittersweet to see how birthdays in this household weren't as big as you've seen with your friends. What made it more bitter was the fact that it wasn't always like this- birthdays were once an exciting, magical thing, because mom was alive to assure that. Now that she's been dead for almost a decade, birthdays are just days. You like to think you're the least broken out of your three person family, with your sincere enthusiasm and curiosity and lack of criminal record.
That's why you were still able to care. Like any good sister would! So, during the week, you discreetly prepared by crafting a birthday card, buying a balloon, arranging a cake, hiding them in your bedroom.
Coincidentally, when the day came, dad was away the entire time.
All the better!
You prepared everything in the kitchen. Balloon hanging on the left of the table, cake box in the middle, gift bag on the right.
When you heard the motorcycle from outside pull in, you quickly turned the kitchen lights off and hid behind the table.
Footsteps... Front door unlocking... Front door opening... Front door closing... Footsteps...
Closer...
Closer...
And then, by the first flicker of light-
"Happy birthday!" you jolt up, arms above your head, exclaiming. There he was! The birthday boy.
In his trenchcoat and hand-sticky-from-his-cup-of-slushie glory! He took a moment to process it all,"Huh?" blinking, before smirking,"(Y/N), isn't it past your bedtime?"
That's the first thing he says? Ugh! You stick your tongue out cheekily, before scolding,"Not my fault you chose to come back late! And I'm thirteen! I don't have bedtimes!"
"Suuuuure." he playfully rolls his eyes as he approached and inspected the table with his hazel eyes,"Damn sis. You did all this for me, huh? I knew you loved me."
"Only half the time." you corrected,"Uh, I know you were swapped with a sewer rat at birth, but I'd think after seventeen years, you'd have some respect to say thank you."
"Really now? A sewer rat? You wanna go there?" he asked rhetorically before staring down into your eyes, mockingly polite,"Alright. Thank you (Y/N), for being the only thing to give a shit about me."
