Chapter 2
410words
In college, after you discovered my part-time job,
you cut me off completely. Not a single penny for expenses.
During finals week,
while my classmates focused on papers and projects,
I was still working shifts to keep a roof over my head.
I'd stumble back to my dorm at midnight, then stay up until dawn finishing assignments.
And Jason?
During his college years,
you fretted he might face the slightest hardship,
so you showered him with cash every month.
My first paycheck—
I'd dreamed of taking you out to dinner and finally buying a proper suit.
But what happened?
You demanded I cover Jason's expenses,
plus utilities, groceries, and everything else at home.
That month,
I clutched my hard-earned diploma,
wearing a threadbare shirt to my first day of work.
Every other new hire showed up in crisp suits,
while I counted pennies before buying a coffee.
Meanwhile, Jason?
He was in Australia, blowing my money on limited-edition sneakers.
Dad frowned. "The family needed your help back then—"
"Help?" I laughed hollowly. "It's been five years of 'help.' Do you even know how much I've sent home? How much I've wired to Jason? Meanwhile, I've been living in a shoebox apartment, terrified you'd call asking for more."
On my twenty-fifth birthday,
I worked overtime until ten,
still clinging to the hope you'd remember.
Then I opened our family chat,
only to find dozens of photos celebrating Jason's job interview—
thirty-plus pictures
of your beaming faces.
At eleven that night,
Mom finally called,
and I held my breath,
hoping for birthday wishes,
but she cut straight to the chase—money.
Jason needed a suit for his new job.
I said, "Mom, it's my birthday today."
She replied, "You're too old for birthdays. Your brother's career is what matters now."
That night,
I sat alone in my cramped apartment,
choking down a cold convenience store meal,
as I transferred three thousand to your account.
"Jesus, bro," Jason cut in, "how many times are you going to rehash ancient history?"
"You'll never understand!"
I glared at him,
"You'll never know what it's like when your own family forgets your birthday but remembers to buy you a damn suit!"
Mom's eyes welled up. "We're getting older... our memory isn't what it used to be..."
"Then why do you remember everything about Jason?" I challenged. "His favorite foods, his wish lists, his exam dates—you recall those with perfect clarity!"
