"Hello, Simon is feeling really sick, so I pardon you to excuse his absence. Regards, James Abashkin," read the message Simon had composed on his laptop. With this excuse, Simon could skip school without raising any suspicion.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the room before dialing a familiar number on his phone.
"Hey, Grandpa."
"Simon! How's my favorite grandson?" Quinn's voice was as jovial as ever.
"So... as you know, my birthday is coming up soon, and I was wondering if we could celebrate it at your house. I mean, not only does it resemble a mansion, but you know... Mom and Dad are super busy with work."
"Busy, huh?" Quinn grumbled. "I don't know what James is up to, but Lucy, too? It's ridiculous. Their own son's birthday, for god's sake."
"Oh, it's fine," Simon said, his tone breezy. "I'll still get a gift or something, but organizing a party with them being so caught up in their research would be... disruptive."
"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Still, I don't like it." There was a pause. "Wait a second, wasn't your birthday in late January?"
Simon froze for the briefest moment, then smiled, though his voice remained calm. "What do you mean, Grandpa? Is everything alright with your memory?"
"Ahh... must be my old brain again. But, I swear your birthday's in January!"
"It's in late October, Grandpa. Same as always."
"But... I could've sworn—"
"I really gotta go, Grandpa," Simon cut him off abruptly, his voice still pleasant. "I'll come over in a week to plan things out, though. Still feeling under the weather, so... see you soon."
"Alright, buddy. Take care of yourself. Hope you get—"
Simon disconnected the call before Quinn could finish. He had heard enough.
Turning back to his computer, Simon began drafting the invitation list for his upcoming "birthday." He anticipated a specific group of people—people with carefully chosen purposes. The invitations were crafted, subtle but deliberate, each word playing into his grand design.
But Simon wasn't one to simply wait. Time was valuable, and he intended to use every moment efficiently. A week stretched out before him, a perfect window to continue his work. After all, his laboratory always welcomed his focus.
A week passed.
On Saturday, Simon boarded the bus to his grandparents' house, keys already in hand. The ride was uneventful, but his mind was active, thinking through every detail.
He entered the large house without knocking, as if it were his own. Inside, his grandparents, Haisley and Quinn, were chatting softly in the living room.
"Hey, Simon!" both of them greeted him warmly as he stepped in.
"Hello," Simon replied casually, his eyes scanning the room, already plotting his next moves. "So, about the birthday... There's a bit of prep we need to do."
"Oh, of course," Quinn said, standing up. "You've got everything planned out already, right? Not much time left."
Haisley nodded, smiling brightly. "We'll help however we can, dear."
They both had the same green eyes as Simon's father—an unmistakable family trait that Simon himself had missed out on. His mother's blue eyes had won out in his genetic lottery, despite the strong chance he could have inherited the green. It bothered him once, but now he saw the hidden purpose in everything. Even in his nihilism, Simon believed that nothing happened without a reason.
Together, they started setting up decorations and getting the whole place ready. But Simon wasn't focused on appearances. Every move, every placement had significance, though his grandparents remained blissfully unaware. With quiet precision, Simon manipulated their actions, using subtle suggestions and managing the materials to block the most obvious paths, guiding them exactly where he wanted. Without realizing it, his grandparents followed his orchestrations perfectly.
"So, you'll be turning 17," Quinn remarked while they worked, his voice filled with warmth. "Almost an adult."
"Yeah..." Simon's response was quiet, but there was a weight to it, as though he was contemplating the words carefully.
"But still so young," Haisley chimed in, giving him a kind smile. "You've got your whole life ahead of you."
Simon's lips curved slightly, but his eyes remained cold. The way she said it... Still so young. It echoed in his mind, the naivety of it all. His life wasn't unfolding like some ordinary teenager's. His vision was so far beyond what they could comprehend.
"Yeah," he muttered, glancing around at the decorations, already analyzing the next steps. To them, it was just a birthday party. To Simon, it was something far deeper.