1 The day my twin sister, Giselle, failed her audition for the National Conservatory of Dance, the entire family gathered around to comfort her. I stood quietly in the corner, staring at the acceptance email glowing on my phone screen. I wanted to tell my parents that I made it. But then, my phone buzzed. It was an incoming call from myself, ten years in the future. “You got into the Conservatory before she did. Do you honestly think Mom and Dad will finally love you for it?” A bitter laugh echoed from the speaker. “They won’t.” “In my timeline, you eagerly told them the news.” “Giselle couldn’t handle the rejection. She threw herself off the eighteenth-floor balcony.” “You spent the next eight years trying to atone for her death. In the tenth year, Mom and Dad broke your legs. You never stood on a stage again.” “That was when you finally realized they never loved you.” I stared at the screen, my heart freezing. The camera angled down, revealing two empty pant legs dangling from a wheelchair. “So, make your choice. Tell them, get your legs broken, or run away and live your own life.” The line went dead. Only then did my parents finally remember that I had applied to the Conservatory too. Mom sighed, looking at me with her usual comparing gaze. “Kayla, look at your sister. She worked so hard, while you just tagged along behind her for eight years, barely scraping by.” “No matter how poorly you did, she was always there to keep you grounded.” Dad pointed a finger at me. “Tell us, Kayla. You didn’t make it either, did you?” The warnings from the call echoed in my ears. My chest tightened. I shook my head slowly. “No, I didn’t.” If they truly never loved me, then I would rather choose the open road and leave them behind forever. Hearing my response, Dad let out a relieved laugh. “See, Giselle? You just hold yourself to such high standards.” “Look at your sister. She failed, and she is perfectly fine.” I watched them, my hard-won joy evaporating into nothing. “She is pathetic. How could she ever compare to me?” Giselle spat, her voice dripping with venom. I wanted to scream that I was not inferior. But remembering the future, I forced my mouth shut. Mom rubbed Giselle’s back. “Of course, sweetie. You have been winning local trophies since you were a little girl. You will get in next year.” Mom slipped a gold bracelet onto Giselle’s wrist. Then, she glanced at my bare wrist and sighed. “Kayla, you need to try harder. This bracelet is a reward for Giselle’s hard work. You cannot keep falling behind.” I lowered my head. My whole life, Giselle was the star. I was always the one who was not quite enough. Not quite as pretty, not quite as smart, not quite as talented. Today was the first time I had actually beaten her. But I still could not win our parents’ love. “You don’t think I’m playing favorites, do you, Kayla?” Mom asked. I shook my head. “No.” But my chest felt like it was being crushed. “Good. If worse comes to worst, you can retake the prep year with your sister. It will be easier if you two stick together.” “No,” Dad interrupted before I could speak. “Her situation is different. She is not built for dance. Another year is just a waste of money.” I knew what he meant. He always said I was too thin, too dark, lacking the natural grace Giselle had. I had heard it my whole life. Even our old instructor used to sigh at me. “Your proportions are all wrong, Kayla. You’re too short, your skin is too dull. If only you had half of Giselle’s natural grace.” My parents thought my desire to dance was just jealousy of Giselle. But I did not want to steal her spotlight. I just wanted to be seen. She got the custom costumes, the newest pointe shoes, the applause. I had to beg for a single pair of shoes, only to be told I was throwing their money away. I worked so hard for this. I wore through hundreds of shoes in secret. But to them, I was still the disappointment. Dad tossed a local community college brochure onto the table. “Don’t crowd your sister. Just pick something local. That way, we can still look after you.” I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled. “Okay.” But under the table, my fingers tapped the screen of my phone, officially confirming my enrollment at the National Conservatory. It was three thousand miles away. Once I left, I would not be coming back. I went back to my room to pack. My wardrobe was bare. Out of dozens of outfits, only three or four faded, well-worn shirts belonged to me. Mom always said, “You’re twins, you can share.” But I had sensitive skin. Synthetic fabrics gave me hives. They never believed me. I put the clothes back. I did not need them. I packed light. My phone rang. It was Mom. “Kayla, come down to the bistro. Your sister needs our support to get through this. We’re celebrating her courage to try again.” I opened my door. The apartment was completely empty. They had already left without me. They forgot me, as usual. I wanted to refuse, but this was my last week with them. “Okay,” I quieted my voice. At the restaurant, the table was piled high with Giselle’s favorites. Steamed lobster, garlic butter shrimp, baked oysters. I was allergic to shellfish, but they never believed me. “You’re twins. If she’s not allergic, how could you be?” they would say. “If you don’t want to eat, don’t. More for your sister.” I sat down. Giselle’s plate was piled high with shrimp peeled by Mom. In front of me, there was not even a fork or a glass. Dad poured pomegranate juice for Giselle. “How much allowance did Dad send you?” Giselle asked me with a smug smile. “I got ten thousand dollars. Since you’re going to college, you must have gotten more, right?” I looked at my phone. A single notification for fifty dollars. I did not accept it. Mom placed another lobster tail on Giselle’s plate. “Kayla is an adult now. She needs to start earning her own keep.” Giselle leaned into Mom’s shoulder. “Aw, I don’t ever want to grow up then.” Mom stroked her hair. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You focus on your prep year. If you need more, just ask.” “I want to go to Bora Bora before classes start! Can I have another thirty thousand?” Mom smiled and transferred fifty thousand right there. On Mom’s phone, Giselle’s chat was pinned to the top. My name was buried somewhere at the bottom, invisible. “Why aren’t you eating?” Dad tapped the table. “I don’t have a plate,” I said. “Then ask the waiter. Are you a princess? Do we have to feed you ourselves?” I looked at Giselle’s plate, piled high with food they had peeled for her. I lowered my eyes. When the waiter finally brought a plate, Mom tossed a shrimp onto it. “There. Now don’t go telling people we play favorites.” I stared at the shrimp. “Your mother gave you food, why the long face?” Dad snapped. “Eat.” I forced myself to swallow it. Instantly, my throat began to burn. Dad laughed. “See? I told you she was faking it.” I stood up, my throat tightening. “I’m full.” “Kayla!” Mom called out. For a second, I hoped she noticed my swelling skin. Instead, she said, “Since you have some free time before your local classes start, go find a summer job. You’re old enough to contribute.” I walked out into the cool night. I had always been the mature one. I gave up my clothes, did the chores, never asked for money. But because they did not care, everything I did was wrong. I took a cab to the clinic alone. “Acute allergic reaction,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “Any later and your airway would have closed up. Doesn’t your family know about this?” “They forgot,” I whispered. If it were Giselle who had not come home, they would have called the police. But my phone remained completely silent. I scrolled through social media. Mom had posted a picture of Giselle holding a candied apple, flanked by both of them. My sweet girl! Always our baby! I stared at the screen, my eyes burning. The next morning, I walked back to the house. Mom and Dad were packing Giselle’s bags in the living room. “Where did you sleep last night, Kayla?” Dad asked casually. “Does it matter? You didn’t notice anyway.” The room went silent. Dad’s face darkened. “Are you throwing a tantrum now? You stay out all night and then talk back to us?” My skin was still covered in fading red welts. They saw them, but chose to look away. “It won’t happen again,” I said, walking to my room. My heart shattered when I opened the door. My things had been tossed into cardboard boxes in the hallway. In the trash can, my clay ballerina figurine lay shattered. I painted that when I was eight, the day I took second place in a competition. Giselle took first. Giselle smirked from the doorway. “Since you’re going to college, you won’t need this room anymore, right? I want to turn it into my walk-in closet.” “Sure,” I said quietly. I was not coming back anyway. Giselle’s smirk faded. “You’re not even mad?” I picked up my suitcase. In the living room, Dad blocked my path. “Kayla, you think you’re tough now? Trying to run away to scare us?” “I’m not,” I said. “You aren’t giving me allowance, so I have to go work.” “Are you blaming us?” Dad roared. “We paid for your dance classes for eight years! Even when your instructor said you had no talent! We bought your clothes, your food, your shoes!” He listed every penny. “Do you have a conscience, Kayla?” “I’ll pay you back,” I said, tears finally spilling over. Dad’s arm swung, and his palm cracked against my cheek. The blow spun my head around. “With what? You couldn’t even pass an audition! Why can’t you be sensible like your sister?” Giselle rushed over, grabbing my arm with fake tears. “Kayla, don’t make Dad angry. They do everything for our own good.” I pushed her away. I barely touched her, but she stumbled back, crying out. Mom immediately shielded her, glaring at me. “We love you both equally! Kayla, you’ve disappointed us for the last time.” I turned toward the door. “If you walk out that door, don’t you dare come back!” Dad screamed. I pulled out my train ticket to the Capital. “I won’t,” I said. Let the mountains and the seas divide us. From this day on, we are strangers.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “523909”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel
Leave a Reply