To the end

12

Celebration

The kids were buzzing with excitement, running around the room as the guards helped them fix the cake on the table and hang decorations. The space was filled with laughter, and Kim stood back, watching with a distant look in his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel conflicted, his mind elsewhere.

“What’s going on?” Kim asked, his voice soft but filled with confusion.

The kids beamed up at him, proud of their efforts. “We’re preparing a surprise birthday party for Ken!”

Kim raised an eyebrow. “Is this really necessary?”

"yes papa ken is our family now" leiah said rn excitement

Family?

Kim stood by, watching the kids as they decorated for Ken’s birthday. His eyes swept across the room, the colorful decorations and laughter filling the air, but his heart felt distant.

“Is there any difference tomorrow?” Kim asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

The kids paused, confused by his question. “Tomorrow? What do you mean, papa?” Leiah asked.

Kim’s heart tightened, but he kept his expression neutral. “Do you remember your father’s birthday?”

Venice smiled brightly. “Of course! It’s your birthday in a few months, right?”

Kim’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowe d hard, shaking his head. “No... I meant Vegas. Do you remember his birthday?”

Silence fell over the room. The kids looked at each other, uncertain, as if searching their memories but coming up empty. Kim’s heart ached at their silence, a sad chuckle escaping his lips.

“It’s tomorrow,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with pain. He glanced at the cheerful decorations, the bright colors now feeling out of place to him.

He looked back at the kids, his face tight with emotion. “Carry on with your celebration,” he said bitterly, his tone cold. “I’ll mind my own business.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving the kids in stunned silence as the weight of the moment settled around them.

Kim retreated to his room, closing the door behind him. The noise of the celebration faded as he leaned against the door for a moment, his chest heavy with emotion. He walked over to his closet and pulled out an old shirt—Vegas’s shirt—clutching it tightly to his chest. The familiar scent was faint now, but it was enough to make his eyes sting with tears.

He lay down on the bed, still holding the shirt, as memories of Vegas flooded his mind. The way he smiled, the way he spoke, and how he had made everything feel right, even in chaos. Kim stared at the ceiling, trying to hold back the wave of emotion crashing over him.

“I miss you,” he whispered to the empty room, his voice trembling. He curled up, the shirt still pressed to his chest, as if holding onto it would somehow bring Vegas back. But no matter how tightly he held it, the emptiness lingered.

Outside, the sounds of laughter and celebration drifted faintly through the walls, a cruel reminder of the distance he felt. He shut his eyes, hoping to escape into his memories, where Vegas was still with him, alive and whole.

But the ache in his heart wouldn’t go away.

Tears silently fell down his cheeks as he whispered again, “Tomorrow should’ve been about you.”

The next morning, the kids chatter excitedly about the party from the night before, their voices filling the dining room as they sit for breakfast. Kim sits at the head of the table, slowly chewing his food, though it feels like sand in his mouth. His mind is elsewhere, swirling with thoughts of Vegas. Today is his birthday, and despite telling the kids yesterday, they don’t seem to remember.

The children continue laughing and talking, making small complaints that Kim wasn’t at Ken’s party. One of them pipes up, “Dad, you should’ve been there. It wasn’t the same without you.”

Kim forces a smile but remains silent, his heart heavy. The sound of their happiness seems distant and hollow to him. His mind drifts to Vegas, the weight of the forgotten birthday pressing down on him like a stone. The moment feels surreal—his family, the ones Vegas loved so much, have let his memory slip away.

The conversation around him continues, but all Kim can hear is the echo of silence where Vegas’ name should be.

Kim pushes his plate away, appetite completely gone. The kids keep talking about the party, their excitement bubbling over, but it only deepens the hollow ache in his chest. He clears his throat softly and asks, "Did any of you... remember what today is?"

The children look at each other, puzzled. One of them shrugs. "It's just Saturday, right?"

Kim's fingers curl around the edge of the table. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to keep calm. "No, it’s not just Saturday. Today is your father’s birthday... Vegas' birthday."

The room goes silent. The kids look down, unsure of what to say. They had forgotten. Kim chuckles bitterly under his breath. “But it’s fine,” he says, his voice strained. “Carry on with your day. I have... my own things to take care of.”

Without another word, he gets up from the table, leaving the untouched breakfast behind. The kids exchange uneasy glances as they watch him walk away, unsure how to react.

As Kim walks upstairs, the weight of his emotions makes each step feel heavier. When he reaches his bedroom door, his phone suddenly rings, and he glances at the screen.

"Hello?"

"Kimhan," comes the familiar voice, filled with emotion.

He hesitates for a moment, disbelief flooding him. Taking a shaky breath, he answers, "Ve...Vegas?"