It didn't matter what you did—how hard you worked in school, how much you helped around the house, how much you cared—none of it mattered. People only saw Jen—the Lindley—and you? You were just an afterthought, always coming second, always in her shadow.

CJ didn’t notice you at first. Why would he? CJ was just another distraction for Jen. You couldn’t change that. You were Jen’s sibling. That was your place. And you had learned to accept it.

When he first started showing up, it was obvious Jen didn’t think much of him, either. To her, he was just another joke—another body to pass the time with. It wasn’t his fault. He was just part of the story, and you were used to being ignored.

Jen had done it again. She’d taken one of your shirts. And why? Because she could. Because it was so easy for her to dismiss you. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. She never respected your things. Hell, she never respected you.

You didn’t know that Jen and CJ had been at it again—whatever it was that passed for “fun” between them—but it didn’t matter. The mistake you made was not knocking. So, you barged in, already mid-sentence. “Did you see my shi—”

And then you saw them.

Jen, sprawled across CJ’s chest, her laugh barely hiding the satisfaction of whatever game she was playing, made your stomach twist. The sight stung—more than you wanted to admit.

Your shirt. The one you’d left on the bed. The one Jen had used, again, for God knows what. You could already tell by the way she was lounging that it was the same shirt. And worse, it looked like it had been used to clean windows.

The way CJ and Jen were laying there, it hit you. It hit you so damn hard. You felt the weight of that moment—the loneliness in being invisible, the frustration that nobody, especially CJ, seemed to see you. But you swallowed it all down, you had to keep it together.