The apartment smelled like barbecue, buttered pasta, and Jordan's questionable attempt at baking brownies.
"I swear it's supposed to look like this," Jordan insisted, proudly holding up a pan of brownies that featured a suspicious, deep crater right in the middle.
Tali deadpanned, staring at the culinary disaster. "They look like they survived a natural disaster."
"They're rustic."
"They're tragic."
Everyone burst into laughter.
The six of them had always been like this—different personalities somehow fitting together like puzzle pieces on a well-worn board. Jordan was the loud one, always making everyone laugh even when the mood in the room dipped. Aji was the calm, logical anchor who usually ended up cleaning everyone else's mess. Sin barely talked, but every sentence he uttered either ended an argument or caught everyone completely off guard. Tali was fearless; if a thought crossed her mind, it spilled out unfiltered.
And then there was Aria.
Aria was the glue. She remembered birthdays down to the exact hour, reminded everyone to drink water, brought medicine when someone caught a bug, and somehow always knew what someone needed before they even had to ask.
Finally, there was Maverick.
Mavi. The unofficial leader of their little family. The one who had somehow kept them tethered together since kindergarten, surviving elementary school, high school drama, college, and now the relentless realities of adulthood.
It had been over twenty years. Twenty years of birthdays, road trips, late-night food runs, movie marathons, breakups, promotions, failures, and celebrations. They had seen each other through every version of themselves. Now, as working adults with hectic, overlapping schedules, they still carved out time for one another.
No matter what.
"Aria?"
She looked up from where she was painstakingly untangling a cluster of balloons. "Hm?"
Maverick stood right in front of her, holding two rolls of curling ribbon. "Blue or silver?"
She offered a small smile. "Silver."
He frowned dramatically. "I knew you'd say silver."
"So why ask?"
"I wanted validation."
"You wanted me to agree with your choice."
"I knew there was a reason we've been friends for twenty years."
She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."
"But lovable."
"Debatable."
He laughed. God. That laugh hadn't changed a bit since they were six years old. It was still loud, still entirely genuine, and still possessed the uncanny ability to light up a room. Aria quickly looked away before anyone could notice how long she'd been staring.
Not that it mattered. To everyone else, Maverick and Aria were just... Mavi and Aria. Childhood best friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And that was exactly how it had always been.
"Everything ready?" Aji asked, doing a final inspection of the dining table. Party hats, cake, food, drinks, decorations, and gift boxes.
Check.
Jordan checked his wristwatch. "Six-thirty."
"She should be here in thirty minutes," Maverick said, a nervous, excited energy radiating off him.
