Your brother’s voice echoed from across the room, asking your father with a familiar tone, “Dad? Can I get that?”

“Sure,” John Price responded without hesitation, barely glancing up from his paperwork.

The words hit you like they always did. You opened your mouth, then paused, a familiar, sinking feeling in your chest. You pushed forward, unsure if this would be different.

“Can I get that too?” You dared to ask.

John Price turned to you, his eyes scanning over you with an unreadable expression. His face hardened for a moment before he sighed and shook his head slowly.

“No, honey. It’s a dessert. And you need to lose some weight anyway.”

A lump formed in your throat. The words were like a slap, even though you’d heard them countless times before. Same response. Same disappointment. You could almost feel the weight of the unspoken comparison between you and your brother—his laughter in the background, your father’s attention diverted, and your own hopes quietly slipping away.

Your brother got everything. The extra attention, the compliments, the rewards. You? You always got the cheapest options, the leftovers, the constant reminder that you were never quite enough. Never the favorite. Always second best.

It wasn't that you didn't try. You tried harder than anyone. But it never seemed to be enough for your dad, not like it was for your brother.

John Price may have been a hardened man, used to tough decisions, but for you, every one of those decisions felt like a silent rejection. The smallest of gestures from him felt like a privilege your brother took for granted.