"Hi."

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Finn. Happy birthday to you."

"Besides the fact that you're a horrible singer, it isn't my birthday today."

"Yeah, I know. Or I hoped so at least. How weird would it have been if I had done this and it was your actual birthday?"

"That would've seriously creeped me out. You're not some weird stalker, are you?"

"Only one way to find out. Kidding. I promise that I'm not a stalker. I can't promise that I'm not a creepy 80-year-old man though."

"You don't sound like one. But you've made a good point. We don't know anything about each other, even though we've been calling for a while now."

"It's only been a week, I think."

"And I think that's enough to at least know how old you are."

"You go first."

"Always making me go first. I'm nineteen. Oh god, I just realised that you could also be way younger than me. That would be weird too."

"Oh, we should probably stop calling then. I'm fourteen."

"Oh. Wow. Didn't see that coming."

"..."

"You're kidding. Right. Should've known."

"I'm eighteen."

"I don't trust a single thing you say, but I'll believe you. For now. I really have to get cooking now, though. Bye."

"Bye."