Whose Party Is This?

I stared at the screenshots my sister, Suzy Blake, had sent me, and my heart sank.

A surprise? The last time they would ever lie to me?

That explained so much. Every year on my birthday, my parents would brush me off with all sorts of excuses.

"Chris, something urgent came up at work," Mom once said.

"Chris, I've got a meeting with a friend about business. Order some takeout for yourself," Dad once said.

This year, they didn't even bother with excuses. They had simply replaced me with someone else.

I tossed my phone aside. My chest felt as if something heavy had lodged itself there.

Another WhatsApp message from Suzy popped up. "Christopher, don't overthink it. Mom and Dad just—"

I replied with just two words. "Got it."

Overthink it? How could I not overthink it?

The facts were right in front of me. That birthday party for their "sweetheart" was the so-called surprise they had lied to me about. As their biological son, I was nothing more than a backdrop for another boy's happiness.

I heard Mom's hushed voice from the living room as she spoke on the phone. "Right, we'll go with blue balloons, the biggest and brightest ones. Ben loves blue the most, so it has to be perfect for him."

Ben. Listening closely to their conversation, I pieced together the boy's full name—Benjamin Smith. I picked up my phone and searched for the name on Instagram.

Soon, a boy with a polished profile picture appeared. His highlighted stories were filled with glamorous photos of him traveling around the world. His most recent Instagram story was a photo of him with my parents, taken in my living room.

In the photo, Mom and Dad's smiles were warm and loving. Mom's arm rested affectionately on Benjamin's shoulder, while Dad stood beside him with eyes full of indulgence. It was an expression I had never once seen on their faces.

The caption read, "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's party!"

Mom left a comment underneath. "Silly child, there's no need to be so formal with us."

Meanwhile, Dad gave the post a like. What a perfect "family".

I saved the photo along with the group chat screenshots and stored them in my encrypted album. These would be the "surprises" I planned to give them tomorrow.

At dinner, Mom made soup and served me a bowl with exaggerated attentiveness. "Chris, try it. I made this especially for you," she said.

I looked at the greasy chicken soup. My throat tightened as a wave of nausea surged up.

"Is this supposed to liven up Benjamin's birthday party?" I asked lightly.

The smile on Mom's face froze. She glanced at Dad, and his expression darkened immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about? Benjamin?" he replied.

"Oh? Looks like you forget things easily, Dad."

I took out my phone and opened the photo. "Isn't this boy your so-called sweetheart?"

Dad's face turned ashen in an instant.

Mom rushed to smooth things over. "Chris, you misunderstood. He's the son of an important client of mine. We're just helping to organize his birthday party."

"A client's son?"

I sneered. "Is he important enough to have a whole group chat, to be tagged as 'sweetheart', and to even receive a large money transfer? Is he important enough to make you ignore your own son's birthday entirely?"

In an instant, the living room fell silent except for the sound of breathing.

Suzy rushed out of her room and grabbed my arm. "Christopher, let's not get carried away."

I shook her off. "What? Are you going to help Mom and Dad lie to me too?"

Suzy's face turned pale. Her lips moved, but not a single word came out.

…

The next day, on my birthday, the house was empty.

A hundred dollars and a note were left on the table. The note was in Mom's handwriting. "Chris, the money is on the table. Buy yourself something good to eat."