Your Favorite Clown Has Clocked Out

Ten years after being reunited with my birth family, the Lancasters, I still reign as the family's undisputed attention magnet. When Dad forgets to take his medication, I put on a pair of sunglasses, barge into the conference room, and take away his coffee. "Mr. Lancaster, you're suspected of abusing your stomach. Please come with me." He scowls as he takes his medication, while the other shareholders fight hard to contain their laughter. When Mom has insomnia and can't sleep, I put on a white bedsheet and drift into the room. "Your application for an early death has been rejected as your daughter objected to it." She scolds me for saying such cursed things, yet tears stream down her face from her laughter. When my older brother, Thomas Lancaster, sprains his ankle during a sports match but refuses to go to the school doctor, I latch onto his leg and wail loudly, "Oh, Mr. Campus Hunk, I'm a loyal fan of yours!" The school doctor learns of the injury and rushes over, so Thomas receives treatment for his ankle. I, on the other hand, become known as the girl who tried to latch onto the campus heartthrob. They are always complaining about how noisy and humiliating I am, about how I'm not as quiet and considerate as their fake daughter, Janet Lancaster. Yet, every time something goes wrong, they always turn to me first. One day, during the school's anniversary celebration, Thomas is backstage when he suffers from a panic attack. I put on a mascot costume and rush onto the stage, turning the gala into a farce. This draws everyone's attention to me, allowing Thomas to be quietly escorted away. But because of that, Janet's piano solo fails to make it onto the trending list. With red-rimmed eyes, she asks me, "Mel, do you really like to steal the spotlight from me that much?" Mom rips my mascot costume right there in public, while Dad forces me to give up my arts student recommendation slot. I look at Thomas, who ducks his head and remains silent. He doesn't speak up for me. As it turns out, even the very person I tried to protect at the risk of my own reputation thinks that I'm embarrassing. Pulling off the red clown nose, I hand Janet the recommendation form. "Fine, here you go. From now on, don't drag me into your family's celebrations or troubles."