Eyes tore open, vision blurred and focused; a ceiling fan swung slowly, around and around. This was how Ema Skye began her day. Temporarily addled by her waking, she fumbled for a moment before her hand found the screaming alarm clock on her bedside table. She sat up, slowly but surely, and drank in the silence of the morning. A sigh, a shower and a cup of coffee later, she found that she could not linger any longer in the quiet and left her small apartment behind her.

After such a peaceful and tranquil morning, one would think that the walk to work would be just as serene. However, the world does not seem capable of letting Ema Skye retain a good mood. The clouds hung low, a dreary and pasty grey. She thought nothing of it at the time, and cursed under her breath when the rain prickled her skin later on. As people passed her on the street – kids and couples, mostly – an array of bright colors began to pop up. Black, white, red, purple, pink and blue umbrellas, all shooting up like fresh spring blossoms. The more Ema saw, the more sour her mood became. Then, as if to place a cherry on top of her misery pie, her arrival was greeted by the most agonizing words she knew of…
"Morning, Fräulein."
Blonde hair and a dazzling smile. She scowled and walked past him as quickly as she could, only to find him following her.
"You're soaking wet."
"It's kind of raining outside, in case you didn't notice."
"You didn't bring an umbrella?" His voice, laced with a hint of mockery, was like nails on a chalkboard. With no patience to spare, Ema let out a frustrating groan. "Just let me do my job, okay?"
He gave another playful smile before wandering off. This ward, in her prison known as 'work', was named Klavier Gavin. Lead vocalist and guitarist of the rock band known as 'The Gavinners', he was every woman's dream; his skin was slightly tanned, his eyes soft and blue, a smooth complexion, toned body, debonair smile, soft golden hair and an alluring German accent. He was every woman's dream – except for Ema's. To her, he was an annoyance. 'What on earth do people see in that glimmorous fop?' She found herself constantly wondering. Even more puzzling to her, was the reason behind her working security for this egotistic diva. She was a detective – Surely there were crimes to be investigated, even lowly paperwork to be done? But alas, there was nothing else on her agenda back at the station. She was stuck here until the weekend was out. Three days of obnoxious music and screaming teenagers. Sighing lightly, she looked at the clock down the hallway. 12:17. The day had barely begun at all, and the concert wouldn't begin until eight. She wished she could have come in later, but so long as the band was there, she had to stand guard.

One turned into two, then three, feeling more like years rather than hours. On occasion, she was asked to help move things or set up. These requests eventually ceased, however, after she fiercely stubbed her toe on a microphone stand. When four o' clock rolled around, Ema was permitted a short break to eat something. Not only was she not hungry at the time, but she also discovered that she had left her wallet at home.

The headache set in just barely ten minutes shy of the doors opening to the public. Adolescents poured into the auditorium, chatting and squealing with excitement. Now was when her real work began. One after another, she chased down kids – punks who thought they were smart enough to sneak backstage. It never ceased; just as she kicked out one crazed fan, another would be trying to slide past her. Finally, when the blonde diva crossed the stage and began to sing, all thoughts of leaving the room seemed to vanish from every teenager's mind. Ema let out a sigh of relief, and looked for a place to sit. She was starting to feel a little dizzy, and cursed herself for not eating anything earlier. The music pounding in her ears, she made her way to a bench against the wall. Just before taking her seat, a group of girls passed by, one of them bumping her. It took her a moment to realize that she had heard something fall. Looking to the floor, she let out a squeal of panic as her eyes met with a small container, white powder leaking onto the ground. She quickly got on her knees and grabbed the tin before it released any more of its contents. Holding the small, round bottle to her breast, she quietly made her way back to the bench and sat. Wincing, she opened the bottle to peer inside – it was about half as full as it was before the spill. She could have easily replaced a bottle of fingerprinting powder, but this particular bottle was special to her, had sentimental value. It was almost as if her precious memories were also spilled on the floor to be smeared and trampled on by unknowing passersby. A small lump began to form in the back of her throat, but she bitterly fought any tears back. She could now allow herself to show weakness here, not with all these people around and especially not with him around. Surely, he would tease and embarrass her, like he so often did. She turned all of her negative thoughts towards him, mentally blaming him for her awful day and her terrible battle with luck.

For another hour, these thoughts festered in Ema's mind, until the band gave their farewells and the crowd began to dissipate. Though the room slowly emptied, Ema did not budge from her bench. More than anything, she wanted to sit there by herself until she was permitted to go home, where she would fall into a deep sleep and forget today even existed.

Suddenly, a soft yellow caught her eye and she immediately turned away.
"Go away, Glitters." The bitterness in those words surprised even her for a moment.
"Rough day, Fräulein?"
"I asked you to beat it."
"Come now, don't be that way. I know what will cheer you up-"
"Drop dead, jerk!"
Her intentions weren't nearly that malicious – it just kind of slipped out of her mouth. There was a long silence, and she slowly turned to look at his face. To her surprise, he was still smiling.
"Happy birthday, Fräulein."
Her eyes then traveled to his hands, which were holding a white box. He opened it and revealed a small cake, decorated with white frosting and strawberries. The moment was surreal, like she was standing beside herself. For what seemed like ages, her mouth wouldn't work at all; she had somehow forgotten that today was her birthday. Her foul mood had distracted her so much that it slipped her mind completely. Setting the cake down on the bench next to her, he held up a finger, signaling her to wait a moment. He left the room, but returned quickly with another box; this one was green, with a white bow on top.
"For you." He said softly, setting it on her lap.
Dazed and still temporarily muted, she opened the package almost robotically. When all the paper dressings were torn away, a footprint analysis set laid bare. She stood suddenly, leaving the box next to her cake.
"…You…"
"Hmm?"
"…Thanks."
His smile was too bright. The room was spinning. Why couldn't she just go back to hating him? There was this weird feeling in her stomach, aside from hunger… she didn't like it. She opened her mouth to casually brush him off, but no sound came out. Something wet trickled down her cheek. Only when she brought a hand to her face did she realize that she was crying. 'Ugh, crap! How un-cool!' She thought frantically. 'He'll never let me live this down! What am I doing? Dammit!' Looking away, she quickly dried her tears.
"Look, Glitters," She said, her voice shaking. "If you tell anyone, I swear-"
A warmth spread through Ema as Gavin wrapped his arms around her.
"Chin up, Fräulein." He whispered.
Moments passed in absolute silence until Ema regained her senses. Pushing him off, she grabbed her boxes and walked briskly towards the door.
"You're lucky I won't file sexual harassment charges on you, fop!"
"Ja, I suppose I am." He called as he caught up to her. "So, how about I help you eat that cake?"
"As if. Why would I eat with you?"
"You aren't seriously thinking of eating the whole thing yourself, are you?"
"Maybe I will!"
Childish insults and laughter echoed throughout the building as the two of them made their way out.

Lights flickered on as Ema made her way to her kitchen. She left the footprint analysis kit on the counter and tenderly placed the remains of her cake (she had eaten roughly half of it, and even allowed Klavier a piece) in the refrigerator. A bed had never before looked so welcoming, and Ema quickly gave herself to it. Closing her eyes, she tried her hardest to fall asleep and forget that the day existed. However, sleep did not find her so easily, and her thoughts kept turning to him.

Unfortunately for her, this was a birthday that she would not soon forget.