And so it happened that Mark was sitting on his sofa, sobbing and wrapped in a blanket. His grandmother, Veronica, had visited him. Mark had spoken to her on the phone and when she noticed how bad her grandson was, she decided to take the next taxi and drive to his apartment. The young man whimpered as tears kept rolling from his eyes. He breathed through his mouth because his nose was completely blocked. Veronica put a cup of tea on the living room table and a piece of cake on a plate.

"I baked you your favorite cake, my darling." She hummed sadly and rubbed his back gently. Mark sobbed brokenly. He didn't feel like he was 31, but like he did when he was 10 years old and had scraped his knee on his bike.

"I'm... not hungry." Mark sobbed weakly. Veronica sat down next to him worriedly and wrapped her arms around him, even though she was much smaller.

"Sh." She hummed gently, rocking him in her arms. Mark collapsed against her chest, sobbing.

"They forgot my birthday, Grandma." Mark whimpered. "For the third time in a row."

"I know." She whispered. "Sh. Calm down. Breathe deeply." She hummed soothingly, continuing to rub his shoulder through the blanket.

"They gave me that horrible T-shirt and expected me to laugh about it." Mark cried. Veronica gently wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"Sh. Don't cry, my darling." She hummed, kissing Mark's forehead. "My handsome boy." She stroked his hair. "Don't cry over something so stupid." She wiped tears from his cheeks again. "Don't cry, my little one." Mark smiled weakly. Even though David was the youngest, his grandma had always called him that. "Eat your cake and drink your tea and you'll see, you'll feel better afterwards." She smiled. Mark took a shuddering breath and looked down at the piece of cake on the living room table. There was a small blue and white striped candle in it. He turned his head and couldn't help but smile at his grandma.

"Is that really for me?" He asked quietly. Veronica smiled gently.

"Of course, my darling. If you want, I can even sing you a song." She giggled and gently stroked his cheek. "But I won't sound as beautiful as you do." Mark giggled weakly. "Blow out the candle and make a wish, okay?" Mark smiled gently and took a deep breath to blow out the candle. Powdered sugar flew off the cake, which made Mark laugh. "That's my boy." She smiled and gently stroked his back. "Don't get upset about them." Mark sighed deeply and reached his arms out from under the blanket to wipe the remaining tears from his cheeks before he picked up the plate from the table and placed it on his lap, as well as the cake fork that was lying next to it. Mark ate a piece of the apple pie and smiled.

"It tastes great." Veronica smiled.

"Just the way you like it, my little one." She reached out again and gently stroked his hair. Mark smiled and ate the piece of cake before drinking his tea.

"Thank you, Grandma." Mark whispered and hugged her tightly.

"Of course, my darling. That's what we grandmas are here for." She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Happy birthday, my love. You're something very special even though people don't always notice. But you indeed are something special, Mark. Never forget that. And never forget, that I love you so much."

"Thank you." Mark smiled. "I love you too, Grandma."

*

John couldn't sleep all night. He felt bad for the crap that David and Pick had done. Yes, Mark had been acting differently lately, but only because he was stressed. He wanted this album to be as good as the first one and that put a lot of pressure on him, since he wrote the music and the lyrics of the songs. John rolled over in bed, sighing, and looked at the wall. Hopefully they could settle the dispute in the band before it was too late.

*

When John, David and Pick entered the studio the next morning, they could hardly believe their eyes. Mark Freuder Knopfler was standing in the middle of the recording room. He was wearing a thick, knitted sweater and black jeans. He had headphones on his head as he stood in front of the microphone.

"When the hell did Mark come?" Pick asked confusedly and saw the technician, Mac, sitting at the mixing desk and controlling the recording.

"Good morning to you too." He sighed. "Mark came here about thirty minutes ago. I've been here for the same time." Pick turned his head and looked at David in surprise.

"What song is that?" John asked, concentrating completely on the recording. He couldn't remember hearing those lyrics.

"This one? I think it's called Expresso love. Mark showed me the lyrics just a few minutes ago." Mac said and leaned forward to move a slider.

"That's the melody we recorded the other day, but didn't know what to do with it." John thought out loud. The song ended and Mark raised his head, smiling. But when he saw the other musicians through the plexi-glass, his smile faded.

"How was that, Mac?" He asked through the intercom. Mac pressed a button and leaned forward to the microphone.

"Well, I thought it was really good. Come out and listen to it." Mark nodded and took off his headphones before entering the control room.

"Good morning." He said dryly as he pushed past Pick and joined Mac. "Let me listen to the whole thing, Mac." The technician nodded.

"I thought you left the band." David said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Wait, let me hear it from the first vocal note. The prelude is very long." Mark decided, completely ignoring his brother. Mac looked worriedly between the two brothers.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" David shouted a little angrily. Mark turned around and looked at him. The two stared challengingly into each other's eyes. They were brothers and had the same ice-blue irises.

"I'm here to do my job." Mark growled. "You don't have to like me. This record will be finished and after that you can do what you want and I'll do what I want."

"Mark. Please." John sighed. He was tired of arguing. He just wanted them to be like they used to be. Playful, young, naive and happy. "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. It wasn't okay. I couldn't sleep the whole night because I kept thinking about it. I'm sorry, Mark." The singer looked at the bassist for a while before smiling weakly.

"You don't have to apologize. It wasn't your idea, John. I'm not mad at you."

"What do you mean?" David hissed. "He went along with it just like me and Pick did!" John sighed loudly. This argument would never end. Mark took a deep breath before putting his hand on Mac's shoulder. "Also I can still remember someone crying like a baby about a shirt yesterday." Mark clenched his teeth.

"I'll listen to the whole thing tomorrow, okay? I'm done for today, thanks for the recording, Mac."

"Of course." The technician smiled tensely. He had no idea what this argument was about, but he suspected absolutely nothing good. Mark took his coat and scarf from the coat rack, but before he could leave the room, Mac called: "Mark! Wait!" Mark looked at him in surprise.

"Huh?"

"Wasn't it your birthday yesterday?" The older man asked, smiling. Mark stood rooted to the spot. His heart skipped a beat. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"Yes. That's right." Mac smiled and went to his bag. He pulled a large metal plate out of his bag that was covered in aluminum foil.

"Here. This is from my wife and kids. They baked muffins for you. Happy belated birthday." Mark smiled gently.

"Thanks, Mac. It means a lot." The guitarist smiled. David, Pick and John stood quietly in the room and stared at the guitarist in shock.

"It was your birthday yesterday?" Pick asked breathlessly. Mark shrugged silently.

"Hmm. Just like every year on this day, I guess." He murmured.

"Oh Mark, we're so sorry." John whimpered, feeling tears in his eyes. How could they have done this to him on his birthday? Mark smiled gently.

"Don't worry, John. See you guys." With that, he left the studio. As the door closed behind him, Mac asked quietly:

"You forgot his birthday?" The three young men nodded silently. "David, you're his brother. How could you have forgotten his birthday?" The technician asked in shock.

"I don't know." David whispered.

"I think I need to sit down or I'll be sick." Pick gasped and flopped down on a chair. "Shit, guys. We gave him that damn t-shirt on his birthday. That's why he was so happy. He thought it was a present." John bit his lip hard and looked down at his feet. Damn, they had messed up even more than he had originally thought.