A Birthday Without You

Today is Ailine Su’s birthday—the renowned superstar of Country Z.

That morning, after reading dozens of messages and before opening a single one of the gifts piled up in the living room, Ailine sat on the edge of the sofa with her phone in her hand.

The FaceGram app was open.

Notifications kept pouring in—birthday wishes, mentions, stories from people tagging her. Hashtags bearing her name slowly climbed the trending list.

She stared at the screen for a long time.

Then her fingers moved.

Not to reply to each message one by one.

Not to upload a smiling photo of herself or a picture of a tiered birthday cake.

She began to type.

She paused again and again. Deleted. Rewrote.

Until finally, she found the words that felt the most honest.

Thank you for all the birthday wishes and kind prayers. I truly appreciate them. However, today I would like to sincerely ask—please do not celebrate too excessively. While many of us are marking a birthday, our brothers and sisters in the Eastern Highlands are struggling in the aftermath of earthquakes and landslides. If you are willing, please send your prayers and support to the victims and the volunteers there. Thank you for your understanding.

There were no excessive emojis.

No photos of herself.

Just a black background with simple white text.

She pressed upload.

Within minutes, responses began to appear.

The tone of the comments shifted.

Prayers. Black ribbon symbols. Donation links. Stories from people who reshared her message.

Some media outlets even started writing headlines:

“Ailine Su Chooses Empathy on Her Birthday.”

Emma, who was standing not far away, glanced at Ailine’s phone screen.

“This is… very wise,” she said softly.

Layla nodded. “And very you.”

Ailine merely smiled faintly.

She had always been like this. She never spoke loudly about empathy, but she always acted on it first. Without posting anything about it, she had already donated two billion to the disaster victims.

She then placed her phone back on the table and looked toward the pile of gifts in the corner of the room.

To the outside world, she was a mature, compassionate superstar.

But inside her chest, one thing remained unchanged since midnight.

She was still waiting.

Not for greetings.

Not for a party.

Just for one person—

someone whose whereabouts were unknown, somewhere among ruins and injuries.

Certainly not Julian, since that man had already called her right at midnight to wish her a happy birthday—for the second time.

“He’s really awful!”

“Who’s awful, Miss Ailine?” Emma asked.

“Hm? No…”

“Doctor Owen?”

“Tch, don’t talk about him!”

Emma let out a sigh. “So… I wasn’t wrong to feel that something has changed with you lately.”

Ailine clicked her tongue. “I asked him out, but he said he couldn’t.”

The irritation in her voice was the same as it had been back then.

Emma fell silent for a moment. “Oh my… you’re actually telling the truth?”

“Of course. There’s no point hiding it from you.”

“Are you… okay?”

“No, obviously not!”

Emma nodded in agreement. “It does show. But seriously—someone as beautiful as you being rejected by Doctor Owen? That’s hard to believe.”

“Right? People say I’m the most beautiful and most desirable woman in Country Z. What am I lacking?”

“I was sure Doctor Owen had deep feelings for you.”

“I wanted to believe that too. But the truth is, I was still rejected.”

Ailine let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sad, annoyed, and embarrassed. I was too confident.”

She rolled around on the long sofa.

“But you two should still be able to stay friends, right?” Emma continued. “Doctor Owen doesn’t seem like the type who would suddenly distance himself.”

“Unfortunately… I’m the one who drove him away.”

“What?”

“I told him not to show up in front of me anymore.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Oh my God… so he really left?”

“Huwaaa…”

Ailine’s crying sounded exaggerated, but her heart truly ached. She was disappointed in Owen, still upset even now—but she had never been able to lie to her own feelings.

“Ailine.”

Layla’s voice called out from the living room.

Ailine turned slowly, quickly wiping away her tears. She didn’t want Layla to worry.

“You haven’t opened a single one of your gifts,” Layla said, crossing her arms. “At least open them now.”

Ailine looked toward the corner of the room, where the gifts were stacked neatly.

“I can do it later,” she murmured.

“No. Now.”

Layla’s tone was firm—the tone of a manager, and also of someone who knew her far too well.

Emma stepped closer. “Miss, it’s your birthday. You should appreciate the people who care about you, even if you’re not doing well emotionally.”

Ailine stayed silent for a few seconds, then nodded faintly.

She sat down on the carpet, right in front of the pile of gifts. Her fingers hesitated before touching the first one.

“Which one should I open first?” she asked softly.

Layla pointed at a large bouquet wrapped with a golden ribbon. “That one looks like it took the most effort.”

Ailine didn’t need to read the sender’s card.

She already knew.

White and blush-pink roses were arranged perfectly—expensive, but not excessive. A small card with neat handwriting was tucked among them.

Julian Feng.

She read it.

Happy birthday, Ailine.

As always, I didn’t want to be late in giving you a gift.

I hope you’ll be happy this year—whether or not I’m by your side.

Ailine smiled faintly. Warm, but calm. Julian was always like that—clear, straightforward, without riddles.

“He’s really consistent,” Emma murmured.

“Yes,” Ailine replied.

She placed the bouquet aside and opened a long, cream-colored box.

From her family.

Inside was a silk scarf with a simple pattern, soft to the touch. Her mother’s favorite color. Beneath it was a handwritten card from her father—slightly stiff handwriting, but full of affection.

Her chest warmed.

“This is… nice,” she said softly.

She opened the other gifts one by one.

Jewelry. A rare-edition book. Custom shoes. Perfume whose scent she recognized instantly.

Each gift came with a name.

With intention.

With clarity.

Until finally—

Her hand stopped.

At the very bottom, there was a plain box. Brown wrapping paper. No ribbon. No name card.

“That one hasn’t been opened yet,” Layla said quietly.

“That’s strange,” Ailine murmured. “There’s no sender’s name.”

“Maybe it’s from a fan?” Emma guessed.

Ailine shook her head. Somehow… she didn’t think so.

She lifted the box. It was light, yet felt heavy in her chest.

When she opened it—

her breath caught.

It wasn’t a single gift.

There were ten.

Neatly arranged, wrapped simply. Some of the wrapping even looked worn.

Each one had a small label.

19th birthday.

A small star-shaped pendant.

Ailine froze.

20th birthday.

A leather-bound notebook.

Her breathing began to tremble.

She knew.

She knew exactly.

The third gift—a secondhand analog camera.

Memories rushed in all at once. Every single item… had once been on her wish list when she was younger.

With trembling hands, she opened them all—one by one. Quickly. Restlessly.

Ten gifts.

Ten wish lists.

“Manager Layla… Emma…” her voice was barely audible.

“What’s wrong, Ai?” Layla began to worry.

Ailine picked up the last item.

A card.

Plain paper. Neatly folded.

The moment she opened it—her breath completely collapsed.

The handwriting.

She knew it by heart.

No name was needed. No signature.

Every curve of the letters… was Owen.

Sorry it’s not a luxurious or expensive gift.

Happy birthday.

Tears fell.

One.

Then another.

Ailine covered her mouth, but her sobs slipped out.

“This… this is Owen…” her voice broke.

Emma gasped. Layla froze.

“There’s no name,” Ailine continued through her tears. “But I know. I’ve always known.”

She hugged the box tightly to her chest, as if those small objects could connect her to someone who was now far away—somewhere even phone signals struggled to reach.

Her crying broke without loud sobs. Only trembling shoulders. Ragged breaths.

Not because of the price.

But because she was remembered—in a way that was too personal, too precise.

“I used to keep whining for birthday gifts as proof that I still existed in his heart,” she sobbed. “And he really remembered…”

Layla knelt beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“He didn’t forget,” Emma said softly.

Ailine shook her head, smiling through her tears.

“He never forgot,” she whispered.

“And these ten gifts… they mean I still exist in his heart, don’t they?”

And on her birthday—

among gifts bearing big names and clear intentions—

it was the nameless gift that completely shattered her heart.