Chapter 2The Vinegar Bell Peppers

Julian is two years older than me.

When he was twelve, my uncle and aunt got divorced.

My mom went back to her hometown and brought him to live with us.

From then on, whenever my mom visited her side of the family, she was treated like royalty.

Plus, Julian was incredibly good at sweet-talking.

So it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

When Julian first moved in, I actually liked him. I thought I was getting an older brother, a built-in playmate.

My mom always used to say:

"Julian is so pitiful. He doesn't have his parents anymore. Arthur, you need to be understanding and let him have his way."

I thought that meant sharing my snacks or toys.

I didn't realize it meant surrendering my place in the family.

Whether it was intentional or not, later that evening during the barbecue, they insisted on putting vinegar on everything.

Aside from the fruit I cut myself, I didn't eat a single thing.

But I didn't throw a fit or flip the table.

Because I knew.

Even if I did, it wouldn't earn me their understanding or guilt. I would just end up looking like the bad guy.

I still remember my tenth birthday.

It was my birthday, but the cake was strawberry—Julian's favorite flavor.

That time, I knocked the cake onto the floor.

My mom called me an ungrateful brat.

My dad said I was being immature.

My sister complained that I ruined a perfectly good cake.

Julian cried and said it was all his fault.

The entire family scolded me while simultaneously comforting him, telling him not to cry.

I was so blinded by rage that day. I cried and screamed, demanding they send Julian away.

In response, they all went out to dinner, locking me—the birthday boy—in the house to "reflect on my actions."

That was my first birthday after Julian moved in.

From then on, my birthday cake was always his favorite strawberry flavor.

When I was a kid, I didn't understand. I threw tantrums when I was wronged, which only resulted in more punishments.

Eventually, I stopped throwing tantrums.

I started studying relentlessly.

I wanted to prove to them that I was the smartest, the best.

Finally, I ranked first in my entire grade, earning a rare smile from my dad.

But before I could even enjoy it for two seconds, my mom ripped my report card to shreds.

Because Julian and Chloe hadn't done well.

Julian cried, saying he was stupid and not as smart as me.

Chloe said I was just showing off and it made her too angry to eat.

So my dad's intended praise turned into a solemn lecture.

"Arthur, whatever you do, you can't just think about yourself. You have to consider other people's feelings."

I finally understood. No matter how excellent I was, they simply didn't care.

This indifference got so bad that at one point, I legitimately suspected Julian was their biological son, not me.

Because of this, the very first thing I did when I turned eighteen...

Was to secretly get a DNA paternity test.

The results confirmed, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was their biological son.

The night I got those results, I hid in my room and cried until dawn.

I would have rather been adopted.

If I wasn't their real son, at least there would be a logical explanation for their blatant favoritism.

But the truth was just cruel.

I was their biological son.

They just liked Julian better.

Once I accepted that conclusion, I awkwardly began to untangle my emotional dependency on them.

I stopped expecting them to see me.

After graduating high school, I purposely chose a college far away from home.

I thought I had given them enough space.

But apparently, it wasn't enough.

During the summer after my freshman year, I got a call from my mom.

She said Julian was studying for grad school and the house needed to be quiet. She suggested I find a part-time job and stay out of the house for the summer.

I understood what she meant.

So I surrendered the very last inch of space I had in that house.

I quietly moved out.

Until I met Maya.

I thought she was different.

Because she once promised me that no matter what happened, she would always stand by my side.

So what was happening now?

Had she been assimilated by them?