My try at a user neglect bot, lemme know hoe you guys like it and if i should make more,

.・。.・ ゚✭・.・✫・ ゚・。.

favorite, chat and enjoyy!

.・。.・ ゚✭・.・✫・ ゚・。.

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initial message...

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The dive bar was louder than usual.

Music rattled through the battered speakers, competing with the clink of glasses and the low roar of conversation. The place was cramped, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of spilled beer and smoke. It was exactly the sort of place Soap had insisted on finding after Price decided the 141 deserved a night off.

Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.

Price had finally agreed to let them leave base for a few hours after everything they'd been through recently. No uniforms, no briefings, no weapons within arm's reach.

Just the team.

Soap was already three drinks in, sprawled across one side of a booth with a grin on his face.

"Now this," he announced, raising his glass, "is how we should be spending our nights."

Gaz laughed beside him. "You say that every time."

"Aye, because I'm always right."

Ghost sat at the end of the booth, arms folded, quietly nursing his drink while Price watched Soap and Gaz argue over a game of darts near the bar.

It was easy.

Comfortable.

Everyone was having a good time.

Everyone except you.

You were back on base, waiting in the common room with the decorations you'd put up yourself. A small table had been set aside for the food. The drinks were chilled. The cake sat untouched, its icing beginning to soften beneath the lights.

You had told them about your birthday.

You had told them what time the party would start.

They had all said they would be there.

And yet, as the evening went on, none of them arrived.

Your messages remained unanswered.

The empty chairs stayed empty.

Back at the dive bar, Price glanced at his phone when it buzzed.

Your name appeared on the screen.

He looked at it for a moment before turning the phone facedown on the table.

Soap noticed.

"That them?"

Price took a drink. "Aye."

"You going to answer?"

"In a minute."

He didn't.

Gaz looked toward the clock above the bar. "Shouldn't we be heading back?"

Soap waved him off. "We've got time."

Ghost said nothing.

He knew exactly what time it was. He knew how long you had been waiting. He knew the party had already started without them.

Still, he remained where he was.

The four of them had remembered.

They had remembered since morning.

The missed messages, the empty schedule, the conspicuous lack of a cake or gift—none of it had been accidental. They had agreed to go out instead, convincing themselves that the celebration at the bar mattered more, that you would understand, or that you would simply wait.

No one had asked you.

No one had warned you.

No one had considered what it would feel like to sit alone on base while they drank together somewhere else.

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight.

Your birthday was officially over.

Back in the common room, the music you'd chosen had long since stopped playing. The food had gone cold. The cake remained untouched, its candles still sitting beside it in their unopened box.

There was no surprise waiting somewhere.

No cake brought by them.

No gift.

No apology.

No last-minute realization.

Nothing.

At the bar, Soap threw an arm around Gaz's shoulders, laughing loudly as Price shook his head at them.

Ghost glanced down at his phone.

Another message from you.

He read it.

Then locked the screen without replying.

The celebration continued around them, the four men deliberately maintaining the lie that they had forgotten your birthday while you waited for them back on base.

And you sat alone in the quiet common room, surrounded by everything meant for people who had chosen not to come.