"PAOH!"
My cheek burned like it had just been touched by a hot iron. I woke up suddenly, struggling to breathe.
I groaned, trying to force my heavy eyelids open, but the blinding morning sun stabbed right through my pupils.
"Get up." The voice was firm. Demanding.
I took a breath, and the strong smell of wet hay, damp earth, and pig manure filled my lungs.
I gagged and held my upset stomach. I had spent the night passed out in the family pigsty. Again!
My mother, Linda, stood over me. Her expensive designer heels sank into the mud, but she didn't care.
She pulled her arm back and delivered another stinging slap to my other cheek.
TAAA!
"Damn…" I muttered, spitting out a mouthful of gritty, dirty saliva. "Don't you 'damn' me," she snapped, her face hardened in pure disgust.
"Tell me, why do you take so much delight in soiling the family name? You humiliated your father. You disgraced the family name in front of the entire estate."
"I didn't ask to be there," I mumbled, struggling to push myself up to my knees. My head hurt from a brutal hangover.
She scoffed, crossing her arms tightly.
"You're not wrong, you're just operating in a different intellectual time zone. You are the firstborn. Act like it. Or at least try not to look like a complete failure for one single day."
I didn't argue. I wiped the dirt from my face, ignored the ringing in my ears, and staggered past her out of the barn."
By the time I got to the main house, the booming bass of a party track rattled the walls. I pushed the oak doors open and stepped into the foyer, completely aware I still smelled like a barn.
The house staff rushed past me, carrying silver trays of champagne and roasted meats.
Through the large archway leading to the grand hall, a few dozen people had gathered. I caught the last notes of a festive birthday song. It quickly hit me, like a sudden jab.
Today was my twenty-first birthday. I stood near the shadows of the grand marble staircase, watching from the sidelines.
The entire room, filled with family, friends, influential politicians, and wealthy socialites, was clustered entirely around my twin brother, Calvin.
They cheered for him. They patted his back. They celebrated him as if he were the only one born today.
Our father, Norman, stepped up and pulled Calvin into a warm, tight hug. Calvin smiled, soaking in the glory like a sponge.
Moments later, Calvin broke away from the crowd and walked toward the hallway, passing right by my hiding spot. He didn't slow down. He didn't even blink. He just rolled his eyes, a condescending smirk playing on his lips.
Back in the hall, Norman demanded the room's attention. He raised a glass of Clase Azul Tequila Reposado.
"Attention everyone!" The room went dead quiet.
"To my son, Calvin!" Norman's booming voice carried across the room with seasoned political authority. "The absolute pride of this family. The sharpest mind I know, and officially... the future heir of the estate!"
The crowd erupted into a loud applause. But from my spot in the shadows, I caught the subtle shifts in the room. A few guests glanced toward the stairs where I stood.
A man in a tailored suit gave a low snort of amusement, pointing his glass vaguely in my direction. A wealthy woman dripping in pearls glanced at me with agonizing pity.
I was entirely stripped of my rightful place. The eldest twin, reduced to a pathetic spectator.
My stomach turned. I couldn't breathe in here.
Unable to take the humiliation for another second, I wandered off, heading down the long corridor toward the guest bedrooms. I just wanted to find a quiet space, maybe wash my face, and crash.
I pushed open the partially opened door to the third guest bedroom, then I froze. What I saw almost took my life.
The exact same girl I had specifically confided in Calvin about just last week. The girl I've had crush on for some time now was in the bed with Calvin.
And guess what?
GWACK! GWACK! GWACK!
She had Calvin's dick in her mouth! Sucking and licking as if her life depended on it.
And to add insult on injury, they weren't alone.
Sarah's elder sister, Jessica, was tangled in the sheets right next to them. It was a full-blown threesome, right in the middle of my birthday party.
Calvin didn't even look guilty. He just paused, leaning back on his elbows with an amused glint in his eyes. Jessica sat up slightly, pulling a white silk sheet over her chest.
She looked me up and down, then a mocking smirk spread across her face.
"Well," Jessica said, her voice dripping with witty venom. "Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak... or in your case, until you walk into a room. Your bravery is impressive, considering how little you understand the situation. Close the door on your way out."
Sarah giggled softly from beneath Calvin's arm. "Pfft—haha. So awkward."
"Yo… did she really just say that?" a drunken guest walking past the hallway said, then glanced over my shoulder into the room before bursting into laughter.
Shocked to the bone, I slammed the door shut, cursing the exact minute I was born into this world. I turned around and went straight to the cellar, grabbed the first bottle of bourbon I could find, and did what I do best.
I drank my sorrows away until the world went completely numb. Time passed without me noticing.
Later, I stumbled upstairs into the secondary sitting room. Almost everyone from the party had migrated here to watch the massive flat-screen TV.
A sudden tension had changed the mood in the room. A wild rumor had just taken over mainstream media. Breaking news banners flashed in bright red across the screen.
Scientists were fiercely discussing a celestial event… something that had never occurred in recorded human history.
A mysterious, rogue planet was set to pass directly between the Earth and the Sun.
"They say it's closer than expected," an anchorwoman reported. "It could happen at any moment."
The sitting room remained quiet for three seconds before Norman burst into loud, deep laughter.
"Nonsense!" Norman waved his hand dismissively, taking another slow sip of his tequila.
"Absolute garbage. They just want ratings to scare the public. Do you actually believe this crap?"
A few of his politician friends chuckled, nodding in agreement.
The science correspondent sitting next to the anchor wasn't laughing. The camera cut to him, and he was gripping a pen tightly to stop his fingers from trembling. His hands were shaking violently. He looked genuinely terrified.
Later that evening, the party finally died down.
I was completely wasted, lying on the cold library floor, completely defeated.
Soft footsteps approached. Small hands grabbed my heavy shoulder. "Come on, big brother. Up we go."
It was Chloe. My younger sister. She was the only person in this fucked-up family that truly loved me for who I was.
She grunted, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up. I stumbled, heavy and clumsy, but she hung my arm over her neck.
She was barely half my size, struggling intensely under my dead weight, but she refused to let me drop.
We moved through the dark hallway. I caught the soft lavender scent in her hair, mixing with the strong smell of bourbon on my breath.
"Gotcha," she panted, pushing my bedroom door open with her foot. She gently guided me toward the mattress and let me fall back.
She pulled the thick blanket over my chest, tucking me in gently. Meanwhile, my eyes were terribly heavy, closing against my will.
She leaned in and whispered something to me as I drifted off. I didn't hear the words fully. But I felt them.
A warm sense of safety before the deep sleep took me.
When I woke up, the morning sun was high, and for the first time in a very long time, my mind felt incredibly clear.
I sat up, staring at the empty room. For the sake of my own sanity, I had to leave this place. I had to make my own way in the world. I grabbed a faded duffel bag from the closet. I packed a few pairs of clothes, my boots, and whatever loose cash I had stashed in my bottom drawer. I zipped it up, came up with a half-baked excuse about leaving to find work, and walked downstairs.
Sweet Chloe met me in the hallway. Her eyes darted to the bag. "Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving, Chloe. Going to find some work," I said, keeping my voice steady. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. She grabbed the fabric of my jacket.
"No. Please, let me come with you. I can pack right now…" I gently pulled her fingers off my jacket.
"You must stay. It's not safe for you to come with me."
From the living room doorway, Calvin leaned against the frame, watching me leave with complete apathy. He didn't care if I lived or died.
I looked up. On the second-floor balcony, my bastard father stood with his hands firmly in his pockets. Norman glared down at me. We held eye contact for just two seconds before he simply turned his back and walked away.
Then Mother stepped out of the kitchen. Linda looked at the duffel bag, then at me. Her stiff posture eased, showing a rare moment of real compassion.
She walked over, wrapped her arms around my neck, and squeezed tight. "I wish you the best," she tearfully whispered into my shoulder.
I didn't hug her back. I just pulled away, walked over to Chloe, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Stay safe," I told her.
I grabbed my bag, walked out the heavy front doors, and waved goodbye without turning around. My boots crunched against the gravel driveway. I kept walking, telling myself over and over that I would never return to that cursed house again.