Starving for Kindness

Out of schadenfreude, I asked Ryan about the details. Usually, he always sided with Melissa, but his face darkened. “Why bring her up? Bad luck.” Apparently, Melissa had also taken her anger out on him that day, yelling, “It’s because they wanted to have you that our family is in such a mess! They shouldn’t have had you!” She said many harsh things, even telling him to die. Ryan was so angry he slammed the doors at home.

I almost felt sorry for him, but the old wounds between us kept me silent.

Family drama had become our only language.

After saying this, Ryan glanced at me. “You’re better, never argue about anything. If Melissa were half as good as you, that’d be great.” I smiled without answering. He’d never said a good word about me before. When we were little, he thought I was country, a hick. When we grew up, he complained about my bad grades and introversion. Now that Melissa doesn’t please him, he freely labels her as ungrateful and immature. How ridiculous. Clearly they’re both beneficiaries in this family, but because what they get isn’t enough, they blame our parents for favoritism and others for being greedy.

I shrugged, not wanting to get pulled into their blame game.

I’d learned to survive on crumbs.

To ease the tension, my parents finally gave in. They called Melissa and Eric home, and at the dinner table, they said they’d add $30,000 to Melissa’s dowry, on the condition that her name be added to the house. Eric quickly agreed, promising to put her name on the property deed. But unexpectedly, Melissa was unhappy. She slammed the table, knocking down her fork. “Are you selling your daughter? If it were Ryan getting married, would you make such unreasonable demands?”

The fork clattered to the floor, and everyone froze.

I felt the urge to slip under the table, to disappear from the scene entirely.

I was so scared I didn’t dare breathe, just wanted to leave the battlefield quickly. Since childhood, Melissa was the model of excellence and sensibility in others’ eyes. I didn’t interact much with her. When she got into Columbia, I had just come to live with our parents, so we hardly lived together. So I always thought Melissa was excellent and must be easy-going and likable. But today I realized the real Melissa is selfish and self-centered. All those labels were just filters given by people around her. I actually felt a bit of schadenfreude that their pride would one day fight with them over a man.

Watching her tantrum, I realized that even golden children have cracks in their armor.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who felt invisible.

Unfortunately, the big showdown didn’t happen. My parents gave in again. They gave the money, but didn’t dare interfere with Eric and Melissa’s wedding. But this time, I was the victim again. My already meager living expenses became even less because of this. Mom said it was to “toughen me up.” But when my sister got $2,000 a month, why didn’t you say she needed toughening up? Actually, I already know the answer. “Your sister is a medical student, studying so hard, she can’t suffer in life.” Then they’d blame me for being immature, not understanding my parents, only knowing how to compare with my siblings.

I rolled my eyes behind closed doors. I’d stopped expecting fairness from them a long time ago.

I just wanted to survive, to get through college and never look back.

But this time, I wasn’t as upset. Actually, ever since they said they shouldn’t have had me, I stopped expecting anything from them.

If no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it, I might as well make myself feel better.

I started keeping a mental list of all the ways I could take care of myself. It was a small rebellion, but it made me feel a little stronger, a little less alone.

But even with backbone, being hungry is real. Girls love beauty, and sometimes I impulsively bought cosmetics and clothes. The result was eating bread for every meal. Just then, someone left a message on Bailey’s Instagram account, asking if we wanted to work as models and hostesses at mall events. Knowing my situation, Bailey suggested we go together. Young and fearless, we actually went after just a few DMs with the contact. Luckily, we weren’t scammed. Actually, they were desperate for people, which is why they asked online. The job was simple: wear a dress and high heels, greet people at the venue, and keep things orderly. Bailey is outgoing, actively inviting people to join the event. I’m gentle and patient, answering everyone’s questions. After a tiring day, the experience was still pleasant.

The first time I slipped into a dress and heels for work, I felt a strange sense of power. I wasn’t the overlooked middle child anymore.

I was Autumn, the hostess, the one people turned to with questions and smiles.

The guy who contacted Bailey kept praising our work and thanked us for saving the day. Originally, the pay was $40 per day, but he gave each of us $60. “You two are amazing. You were the only ones who didn’t make mistakes and kept bringing in more people. Thank you so much. If possible, I’d like to hire you for future gigs.” He was very sincere, even a bit afraid we’d refuse.

Bailey and I exchanged glances and replied in unison, “Sure, of course!” Where else could I find a $60-a-day gig? That’s almost half a week’s living expenses. Can’t miss this chance.

“Thank you so much. My name is Ethan, just call me Ethan.” “Okay, Ethan.”

We laughed all the way home, counting our cash and dreaming up ways to spend it.