"PAOH!"
Daniel's cheek burned like it had just been touched by a hot iron. He woke up suddenly, struggling to breathe. He groaned, trying to force his heavy eyelids open, but the blinding morning sun stabbed right through his pupils. "Get up." The voice was firm. Demanding. Daniel took a breath, and the strong smell of wet hay, damp earth, and pig manure filled his lungs. He gagged and held his upset stomach. He had spent the night passed out in the family pigsty. Again. His mother, Linda, stood over him. Her expensive designer heels sank into the mud, but she didn't care. She pulled her arm back and delivered another stinging slap to his other cheek. TAAA! "Damn…" Daniel 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," Daniel mumbled, struggling to push himself up to his knees. His 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." Daniel didn't argue. He wiped the dirt from his face, ignored the ringing in his ears, and staggered past her out of the barn. By the time he got to the main house, the booming bass of a party track rattled the walls. He pushed the oak doors open and stepped into the foyer, completely aware he still smelled like a barn. The house staff rushed past him, carrying silver trays of champagne and roasted meats. Through the large archway leading to the grand hall, a few dozen people had gathered. Daniel caught the last notes of a festive birthday song. It quickly hit him, like a sudden jab. Today was his twenty-first birthday. He 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 his twin brother, Calvin. They cheered for him. They patted his back. They celebrated him as if he were the only one born today. Their 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 Daniel's 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 loud applause. But from his spot in the shadows, Daniel caught the subtle shifts in the room. A few guests glanced toward the stairs where he stood. A man in a tailored suit gave a low snort of amusement, pointing his glass vaguely in Daniel's direction. A wealthy woman dripping in pearls glanced at him with agonizing pity. Daniel was entirely stripped of his rightful place. The eldest twin, reduced to a pathetic spectator. His stomach turned. He couldn't breathe in there. Unable to take the humiliation for another second, he wandered off, heading down the long corridor toward the guest bedrooms. He just wanted to find a quiet space, maybe wash his face, and crash. He pushed open the partially opened door to the third guest bedroom, then he froze. What he saw almost took his life. The exact same girl he had specifically confided in Calvin about just last week—the girl he had a crush on for some time—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 to 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 Daniel's 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 Daniel 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 Daniel's shoulder into the room before bursting into laughter. Shocked to the bone, Daniel slammed the door shut, cursing the exact minute he was born into this world. He turned around and went straight to the cellar, grabbed the first bottle of bourbon he could find, and did what he did best. He drank his sorrows away until the world went completely numb. Time passed without him noticing. Later, he 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. Daniel was completely wasted, lying on the cold library floor, completely defeated. Soft footsteps approached. Small hands grabbed his heavy shoulder. "Come on, big brother. Up we go." It was Chloe, his younger sister. She was the only person in his family that truly loved him for who he was. She grunted, grabbed his arm, and pulled him up. Daniel stumbled, heavy and clumsy, but she hung his arm over her neck. She was barely half his size, struggling intensely under his dead weight, but she refused to let him drop. They moved through the dark hallway. He caught the soft lavender scent in her hair, mixing with the strong smell of bourbon on his breath. "Gotcha," she panted, pushing his bedroom door open with her foot. She gently guided him toward the mattress and let him fall back. She pulled the thick blanket over his chest, tucking him in gently. Daniel's eyes were terribly heavy, closing against his will. She leaned in and whispered something to him as he drifted off. He didn't hear the words fully, but he felt them—a warm sense of safety before the deep sleep took him. When Daniel woke up, the morning sun was high, and for the first time in a very long time, his mind felt incredibly clear. He sat up, staring at the empty room. For the sake of his own sanity, he had to leave this place. He had to make his own way in the world. He grabbed a faded duffel bag from the closet. He packed a few pairs of clothes, his boots, and whatever loose cash he had stashed in his bottom drawer. He zipped it up, came up with a half-baked excuse about leaving to find work, and walked downstairs. Sweet Chloe met him in the hallway. Her eyes darted to the bag. "Where are you going?" "I'm leaving, Chloe. Going to find some work," Daniel said, keeping his voice steady. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. She grabbed the fabric of his jacket. "No. Please, let me come with you. I can pack right now…" Daniel gently pulled her fingers off his 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 Daniel leave with complete apathy. He didn't care if his brother lived or died. Daniel looked up. On the second-floor balcony, his father stood with his hands firmly in his pockets. Norman glared down at him. They held eye contact for just two seconds before Norman simply turned his back and walked away. Then his mother stepped out of the kitchen. Linda looked at the duffel bag, then at Daniel. Her stiff posture eased, showing a rare moment of real compassion. She walked over, wrapped her arms around his neck, and squeezed tight. "I wish you the best," she tearfully whispered into his shoulder. Daniel didn't hug her back. He just pulled away, walked over to Chloe, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Stay safe," he told her. He grabbed his bag, walked out the heavy front doors, and waved goodbye without turning around. His boots crunched against the gravel driveway. He kept walking, telling himself over and over that he would never return to that house again.