Stealing My Spot: I Chose State Secrets

I stared at the man standing onstage, putting on a show of impartiality and righteousness, and felt nothing but disgust.

When I was ten, I came down with a dangerously high fever and curled up on the couch, barely conscious.

Dad was already grabbing his leg, rushing to lock the front door behind him.

"Dad, I don't feel well…" I cried, begging him to take me to the hospital.

He pulled his hand away.

"Ian had just transferred schools and isn't adjusting well. He's having an emotional breakdown, and I need to go help him.

"You've only got a fever. Sleep it off, and you'll be fine. Stop being so dramatic."

That night, my fever spiked so badly that I started having seizures. I nearly died alone in the house.

When Dad finally came home in the middle of the night and saw vomit covering the floor, there wasn't a trace of concern on his face. If anything, he looked annoyed.

"Some people don't even have enough to eat, and you were born into a family that can give you everything. How can you not even take care of yourself?"

Back then, I thought I simply wasn't good enough, so I worked myself to the bone. I studied harder than anyone else, desperate to become someone Dad could be proud of.

For the core data behind my two research papers, I'd spent months pulling all-nighters in the lab. I'd ended up in the emergency room twice with stomach bleeding, and even the doctor warned me that if I kept pushing myself like that, I could end up dead.

Ian, on the other hand, was living off the financial support Dad gave him. Most days, he did nothing but sleep and play video games with his roommates. He barely scraped through his final exams.

And now, the results I'd nearly killed myself to achieve were being handed to him—someone who had done nothing to earn them—with a casual excuse about "avoiding favoritism".

"I object."

I looked straight at Dad.

"This fellowship is supposed to be based on academic performance and research achievements, not on who has the saddest story.

"If you think Ian is qualified, fine. Then I want his full academic record reviewed here, in front of everyone."

Dad's expression darkened instantly.

"Karl! Are you questioning the college's decision?"

"You're the one I'm questioning!" I shot back, my eyes burning as I stared him down. "You say you're avoiding favoritism. What you're really avoiding is being accused of using your position to benefit your own family.

"I have the highest GPA in the entire college. My research has passed every independent review. So, what gives you the right to block me?"

"Enough!"

A sharp voice came from beside me.

My girlfriend of two years, Megan Campbell, stood up and grabbed my wrist.

"Karl," she hissed, her tone full of reproach. "Will you stop making a scene?"

I stared at her in disbelief.

Megan frowned, disappointment written all over her face.

"Prof. Ludwig has always been strict with you precisely because he doesn't want to be biased. And now you're challenging him in front of the entire college? Do you have any idea what you're doing to him?

"And besides, Ian has it so hard. He doesn't even have a decent computer.

"You have everything you need. Even if you apply on your own, you'll still get into a good graduate program. So, what's the big deal about giving Ian this opportunity? Do you really have to be this selfish?"

I froze.

Her fingers were digging painfully into my wrist, but the pain throbbing in my chest was worse.

I looked at the woman I'd loved for two years—the woman I'd once imagined building a future with—and watched her defend another man. Then I looked at my own father, who was staring at me with a warning in his eyes.

So, this was how they saw me.

Everything I'd worked for was worthless. And the better I became, the more they thought I deserved to be sacrificed.

I looked at Megan and slowly pried her fingers from my wrist.

A tear fell onto the back of my hand, leaving a wet spot.

"Fine. Good for you for being so noble."

I picked up the fellowship application from the table and tore it to pieces without hesitation.

With Dad staring at me in shock, I turned around and walked out of the auditorium without looking back.