TO HATE IS DIVINE

The party was in full swing, the Wellington home buzzing with life. It always seemed too loud, too bright, too much for me. Tonight, it was all about Dorian. Again. My twin brother had secured acceptance into one of the most prestigious programs in the country, and the world seemed to be congratulating him.

The dining room was packed with family and friends. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over polished oak tables laden with gourmet food and drinks. Laughter and chatter echoed against the high ceilings, and everywhere I turned, Dorian's name was on someone's lips.

There he was, at the center of it all, like always. Dorian, with his effortless charm, his dazzling smile, and that magnetism that seemed to pull everyone into his orbit. He was holding court with a group of relatives, gesturing animatedly as they hung on his every word. It wasn't anything new—Dorian had always been the golden twin.

I leaned against a wall near the far end of the room, nursing a glass of sparkling water. No one noticed me. They rarely did, not when Dorian was around.

I stood off to the side, near a cluster of flower arrangements that filled the air with the heavy scent of lilies and roses. From my vantage point, I could see my parents beaming with pride as they spoke to a group of relatives. My father clapped Dorian on the back, his voice booming with laughter.

"We always knew Dorian would make us proud," my mother said, her eyes shining with delight. "He's going to do incredible things."

I took a slow sip of water, the glass cool against my palm. Their words weren't new. I'd heard them countless times, always directed at him. The golden twin. The star.

My own achievements were respectable—I'd graduated with honors, landed a stable job, and even received a commendation at work recently. But tonight, none of that mattered. My parents hadn't mentioned my name once.

"Leonard, aren't you proud of your brother?" my Aunt Clarissa asked, her voice breaking through my thoughts.

"Of course," I replied, forcing a smile. It was an automatic response, the kind I'd perfected over the years. She didn't wait for me to elaborate, already turning back to Dorian, eager to join the chorus of congratulations.

I stepped back further, my smile fading as the sting of neglect settled deep in my chest. My parents had always been supportive in their own way, but their support for me felt… muted, almost like an afterthought. Compared to the enthusiasm they showered on Dorian, my efforts were invisible.

I drifted toward the edge of the room, settling into the shadows where I wouldn't be noticed. The champagne glasses sparkled under the chandelier, and the voices around me blended into an indistinct hum. My frustration was growing, building slowly but steadily like a pot left too long on the stove.

It wasn't just about tonight—it was about everything.

I thought back to the countless times I'd been overlooked. In school, Dorian was the charming one, the one teachers adored. On the soccer field, he was the natural talent, while I was the one who practiced every day just to keep up. Even at home, Dorian was the one who made my parents laugh, who turned every family gathering into his stage.

And me? I was always there, always working, always trying. But it didn't matter how hard I worked. Next to him, I never seemed to measure up.

A bitter thought crept into my mind: If I disappeared tomorrow, would anyone notice?

I shook my head, trying to push it away, but the bitterness lingered, curling around me like smoke.