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Chapter 2

Penulis: Maroon Cypress
My parents had treated me with the same indifference for ten years. Even the amount of money they gave me had never changed. I crumpled the bill into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash.

After last night ended badly, they stopped pretending altogether.

I heard Mom talking on the phone in her room. Her voice was brimming with excitement. "The venue is already set up. It looks just like a fairy tale!"

Dad was giving instructions on the balcony. "Bring the bottle of '82 Lafite. We have to make sure Ben enjoys himself today."

All the while, I drifted through the house like a ghost.

Suzy left early that morning. Before she went, she glanced at me with a complicated look. "Christopher, no matter what you see, trust me."

Trust her? Trust that she was part of this deception too? I let out a cold laugh and said nothing.

Around noon, a delivery truck stopped downstairs. Two workers unloaded an enormous gift box tied with an exaggerated blue bow.

I stood by the window and watched. It turned out that, to them, I didn't even deserve a gift.

Mom hurried downstairs, smiling from ear to ear as she signed for the delivery. She directed the workers with extreme care, afraid it might get damaged.

I recognized the logo. It was a limited edition piano released just last month, priced well into six figures. Meanwhile, my old piano, which I had used for ten years, had yellowed keys and was out of tune.

I had hinted at it to Mom before, but she always replied, "If it still works, keep using it. The household expenses are heavy."

It turned out that the expenses were not the problem. I simply wasn't worth it. The last trace of hope in my heart was completely extinguished.

That afternoon, I changed into a black suit.

I neatly styled my hair and adjusted my appearance to conceal the exhaustion in my eyes. I couldn't let them see me in such a disheveled state. I would draw a clear line between us with my head held high.

I had overheard the address for the party during Mom's phone call the night before. They had reserved the most prestigious banquet hall in the city.

I took a cab there. Along the way, the driver kept marveling at the impending event. "Young man, what big occasion is it today? The road ahead is blocked. I heard that some rich family is throwing a birthday party for their son, and it's incredibly extravagant."

I forced a faint smile and said nothing. Yes, the party was grand—so grand that it was built on ten years of my grievances.

A long red carpet stretched across the entrance of the hall, flanked by rows of blue rose arrangements.

On the welcome sign at the entrance, elegant cursive letters read, "Happy Birthday to My Sweetheart."

It was signed, "With love, your Mom and Dad."

I stared at those words, finding them painfully glaring. I took out my phone and sent Suzy a message. "I'm here to see your so-called surprise."

Then I took a deep breath and stepped inside in my leather shoes.

Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked, and laughter filled the air. My parents stood in the middle of the crowd, smiling warmly as they entertained the guests. Beside them stood a boy dressed in a blue formal suit.

That was Benjamin. He looked like a proud peacock, basking in everyone's attention and well-wishes.

Mom personally placed an exquisite diamond crown on his head and said gently, "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince."

Dad handed him a velvet box containing a dazzling diamond necklace. "Do you like it? I had it custom-made just for you."

Benjamin smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. You are so good to me."

The guests around them gasped in admiration.

"Oliver, I can't believe how well you're treating your godson. You're doting on him more than your own son!"

"Exactly. With generosity like this, we can't even compare."

"Oliver, he's only a godson, and you're already treating him like this. If it were your own son's birthday, you'd probably pluck the stars from the sky!"

My parents laughed heartily. They waved their hands repeatedly and said, "It's the least we could do."

No one noticed me standing in the corner. I held up my phone and recorded the scene clearly. Then, I straightened my suit, picked up a glass of champagne, and slowly walked toward them.

The surrounding noise seemed to fade away. All I could see was that harmonious "family of three".

Mom raised her glass and announced to the guests, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate our sweetheart's birthday today—"

"Your sweetheart?" I asked.
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  • Whose Party Is This?   Chapter 10

    Mom walked out of the kitchen, and tears welled up in her eyes the moment she saw me.She stood there holding a bowl of freshly cut fruit, unsure of what to do. "Chris, you're home."I nodded, took the bowl of fruit from her hands, and said, "I'm hungry. Is there food?"Mom froze for a moment, then nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes! I'll heat something up right away!"She turned and hurried into the kitchen as if she had received the best news ever.Dad and Suzy came out of the study. Their expressions were equally cautious when they saw me.Suzy spoke up. "Christopher—"I walked up to them and handed the USB drive to Dad. "Thank you for the gift," I said. "Even though the delivery method was a bit unusual."Dad took the USB drive with shaky hands. "Chris, you—""I forgive you," I said.It wasn't because of the party or the overdue presents. It was because I saw their pain and remorse in that surveillance footage.It was also because I finally understood that love wasn't a questi

  • Whose Party Is This?   Chapter 9

    "No matter what you think, you will always be my only brother," Suzy said.The door closed.I stared at the USB drive on the table, hesitating for a long moment before finally picking up my laptop.There was only one folder on the USB, titled "Gifts for Chris". When I opened it, there were ten subfolders labeled from "10 years old" to "19 years old".With trembling hands, I clicked on the folder marked "10 years old". Inside was a screenshot of a flight booking, showing a major theme park as the destination and my birthday as the travel date.There was also a video of Mom facing the camera, rehearsing what she planned to say to me. "Chris, happy birthday. I'm taking you to the place you want to visit most—"In the video, her voice sounded awkward and nervous. They ultimately canceled the booking, citing an urgent last-minute business trip as the reason.I then opened the folder labeled "12 years old". Inside was a design draft of a sports outfit, the same one I had once sketched

  • Whose Party Is This?   Chapter 8

    My parents never considered what this process felt like to me. It was a slow and relentless torment.They still tried to express their love in the way they thought was right. It was just like the past ten years, when they used their self-righteous busyness as an excuse to ignore me while I was growing up."Chris, then what should we do?" Mom asked.Her voice was thick with tears. "Tell us, what do we have to do for you to forgive us?"I looked at her, shook my head, and said, "I don't know. I'm exhausted."After saying that, I turned and walked away from the fairy tale they had built for me, one that suffocated me.I didn't look back. I could feel three pairs of eyes fixed on my back like nails, but I didn't slow down at all.When I walked out of the banquet hall, it was already dark. When the cold wind hit my face, I realized that it was already covered in tears.…I didn't go home. Instead, I checked into a hotel room. My phone vibrated relentlessly in my bag, but I ignored

  • Whose Party Is This?   Chapter 7

    As long as I held no expectations, there was no room for disappointment.However, today, my parents shattered the wall that I had believed was unbreakable, in a way that felt almost brutal. When it collapsed, it exposed the version of me that was already scarred beyond measure, yet still aching to be loved.I looked at them and saw the pain on their faces, raw and undisguised.What was I supposed to do? Should I stand there like a victor, mocking their foolishness and self-inflicted pain? Or should I play the role of the understanding son, falling into their arms for a picture-perfect family reunion?My thoughts were in complete turmoil.At some point, the surrounding guests quietly slipped away. Only our family, the event planner, and Benjamin remained in the banquet hall. Benjamin and his mother were both wearing awkward expressions.I took a deep breath. My gaze moved slowly across my parents' faces and then to Suzy's.In the end, I said, "The party was impressive, and the su

  • Whose Party Is This?   Chapter 6

    "The group chat, the necklace, and even the piano were all part of the act," Benjamin said.He pointed toward the other side of the stage. The curtain slid back to reveal a brand new white grand piano standing in silence. My initials, C.B., were engraved on its body.I was completely at a loss for words.It turned out that the group chat called "Happy Family" was a planning group, and the contact that was saved as "sweetheart" was me. The words that had cut me so deeply were scripted in advance for this day.Benjamin was nothing more than a hired actor with convincing skills. I was the only one who was kept in the dark, the true protagonist of this elaborate spectacle.Suzy handed my phone back to me and said softly, "Christopher, I'm sorry. I knew about it from the beginning, but Mom and Dad wouldn't let me tell you. I could only… remind you in my own way."I remembered the screenshot she had sent me earlier. "Mom, have you arranged everything for Christopher's surprise birthday

  • Whose Party Is This?   Chapter 5

    In the photo showing my 12th birthday, I held a cake by myself with a single candle stuck in it.At 15 years old, I fell asleep at my desk in my school uniform, and there seemed to be tear stains at the corner of my eye.At 18 years old, I stood alone at the gates of my university. Behind me, parents and families came and went, seeing their children off, which made my solitary figure seem even lonelier.Many of these photos were ones I had never seen, as if they had been taken without my knowledge. Each photo precisely captured how I grew up alone during those years when I was overlooked.As the photos played, Mom's low voice sounded off-screen. "Chris, my precious son, I'm sorry. I always said that I was busy—busy with meetings, busy with socializing, busy making money—yet I forgot that my most important responsibility was simply being there as you grew up."I thought that providing you with a comfortable material life meant I had fulfilled my duty as a mother. It wasn't until on

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