Happy Birthday.

“Where do you think she is, Josh?” I asked, looking at photos that Josh blu-tacked on his mirror.

“Who?” Josh asked back on his bed, flipping the newest issue of Kerrang!.

“The girl that always came for my birthdays.”

His reflection in the mirror looked up to my reflection. “You’re still wondering where she is?”

I pressed my lips together.

“Max, get over it, mate! She only appears on your birthdays and you know what happened when we tried looking for her last year – nada. Your mum and dad didn’t even know where she goes! Let it go, mate!”

“I don’t know Josh – there’s this strong feeling that says I should look for her.”

“And how the fuck are you going to do that? Our tour starts after your birthday – which is in a week.”

“Maybe Mum knows,” I said, turning around so I could directly look at him instead of looking at his reflection. “Maybe she knows but she lied to me!”

Josh scoffed. “Why would she lie?”

I sat down on a stool and tangled my hands in my hair. “I don’t know,” I sighed. “Look, mate, would you help me looking for her this week?”

“I don’t know, man. Lilly wants me to—“

“What happened to bros before hoes?” I cut him off, looking at him straight into his eyes.

Josh looked back, his expression softened. “You really want to know about this girl, huh?”

I nodded, looking more serious than ever.

“Fine,” he sighed.

My mouth cracked a grin. “Thanks, man. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, I’m the finest,” he chuckled.

- - -

“Mum, I need to ask you something.”

Mum didn’t look up from the pan. It seemed like she was cooking cream soup for dinner. “What is it, Max?”

I held up a photo of me and the girl that was taken on the very last time I saw her – my fifteenth birthday. “Who is she? Where did she go?”

Mum looked at the picture. “I told you, Max, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Mum, she always came for my birthdays and suddenly she stops! I don’t even know her name!”

“Then what had you been doing for the past ten years of meeting her?”

“Practically it’s like ten days because we literally only met once a year.”

“Well, sucks for you.”

“Mum, I’m serious! I need to know who she is.”

“I’m serious too, son,” she looked at me, “What had you been doing from the past ten days meeting her? Why did you never ask her name?”

“Every time I was about to ask her, she cut me off and changed the topic. She always did that and it always worked.” Mum tore her gaze away from me and looked back at the pan full of soup. “Mum, please.”

She sighed. “She moved to Spain right after your sixteenth birthday.”

“Great, one clue! Her name? The address?”

“I can’t recall her name and Spain is the only thing I know.”

“Then how do you know she moved?”

She only shrugged.

“Mum, are you going to tell me or not?”

“You have to find out yourself if you really want to know.”

- - -

“So that’s it? Spain?” Josh asked, sitting on the bean bag in my room.

“Yes, that’s it. Spain.”

“How can we find her in Spain in bloody one week? We don’t even know her name!” he cried.

“But we have this photo,” I said, holding up the photo I showed to Mum earlier.

“Yeah and that was four years ago! Who knows she changed – like she gains a lot of weight, or she had a plastic surgery or something.”

“Thanks a lot for building my hopes high, Josh. You’re too pessimistic.”

“And you’re too optimistic!” Josh answered.

“You don’t need to go with me, then. But at least help me think, will you?”

There were a few moments of silence before he said his idea. “Well, our first date is in Spain... Maybe we can start looking for her before the tour starts?”

I scoffed. “Mum will be thrilled knowing I won’t have my birthday in here.”

“Oh come on, your mum will understand! Why are you suddenly afraid of her? I thought you’d look for that girl no matter what.”

I stared blankly at the floor, thinking about his words.

- - -

One week later we were at Spain.

We had been going here and there, looking for information about the girl. At first it was blank – we only had a photo that was taken four years ago to help us – but we found our way and the puzzle pieces were slowly putting back together. I was surprised that we could find her address in only a week.

And now, I was standing in front of a door that was painted red. The house was lovely – it was white and the front yard wasn’t big, but it was still lovely.

Josh was next to me. He’d insisted to go with me with the reason: “What if she’s actually a psycho and no one is there to help you?”

I looked down at the address written on a paper once more to make sure it was the right address. Once I was sure, I gathered my courage and lifted my hand to press the bell.

I took a deep breath as I heard footsteps inside and the door unlocking. The door opened, revealing a beautiful girl that was probably three years older than me – but she wasn’t the girl I was looking for. The girl in front of me had bright blue eyes and the girl I was looking for had dark brown eyes. Both had the same lovely brown, long hair though.

And she seemed familiar to me.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” she asked.

“Uh, yes, I’m looking for Anne Smiths?” I finally knew her name. Anne Smiths.

The girl in front of me stared at me, suspicion in her eyes. “Who are you?”

“I’m Max. Max Helyer. This is my friend Josh,” I said, motioning to Josh and he waved a little.

She raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Come in.” She went inside and we followed her. “Sit,” she motioned a sofa and we sat down. “Wait here,” she said before disappearing upstairs.

I gazed around the room. It was a small home and there were family photos on the table at a corner. Just as I was going to stand up to look at the photos, I heard footsteps going downstairs. I was hoping she came back with Anne, but turned out it was just her and a white envelope with her.

“Anne wrote this for you,” she said, holding out the envelope with my name written on it. I stared at it before taking it. I studied the curved handwriting for a while before looking up to her confusedly. “Read it,” she said.

- - -

I stood there in front of the gravestone with Anne’s name beautifully carved on it, a bouquet of flowers was in my hands. The rest of the band was there with me.

Dear Max,

It’s probably too late when you read this. You’re probably wondering why I only come to your birthdays to hang out with you and never mention my name. I’ll tell you all about it one by one.

You probably already found out about my name, too. As you possibly already know, my name is Anne Smiths. I am two years older than you and I lived in the other side of the town.

I was born with a weak heart, so I never go out. I’m homeschooled for my entire life and I can only go out with a companion, which is not in a lot of times.

With what I just mentioned, you’re probably wondering how I found out about you. It’s easy: I dug through my parents’ stuff. Found out a couple letters. The sender of the letters mentioned that you were born safely and healthy.

I was curious about this boy. At the age of seven I decided to go to your fifth birthday with my mum. Starting your eleventh birthday, I went alone.

As I told you before I have a weak heart so I can only go to meet you once a year. The trip to the other side of the town takes a hell lot of time and my parents are a bit too concerned about my health.

A few days before your fifteenth birthday, my health was dropping. For some reason there was a really good hospital in Spain and they decided to move me there as soon as possible and I asked to move after your birthday. Scratch that, I pleaded.

Now, Max, I never let you ask my name because I don’t want you to find out and ask around about me. I don’t want you to eventually find me and about me. I don’t need you pitying about me – I want you to live without a sad thought in your mind.

Max, turns out I’m your parents’ daughter. It was stated in a letter that they were too afraid to take care of me because of my health condition – they were afraid that they couldn’t take a good care of me so they gave me up to a good and caring family. You’ve probably met Marianna, the girl with the blue eyes. She’s my stepsister and she’s five years older than you.

You probably never found out about me until you read this letter. Max, I am your sister and I really, really love you – although I’ve only met you for ten times in our lives but I know a lot about you through the letters I read. You sound like a very lovely boy.

Take a good care of yourself, Max. Enjoy your life and have the time of your life. Fuck what they say, do what you want.

Oh, happy sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth and so on birthday! Wish you all the fucking best, little brother.

Love you always,
Anne.

I kneeled to place the bouquet in front of the gravestone. I stared at her name on the gravestone, my eyes were starting to fill with water.

“I love you, Anne,” I whispered.