I don't know why I'm even writing this. It's late. Everyone's asleep. Except me. Again. My parents threw my brother a whole dinner tonight. Ribs, fancy rice, my mom even baked a cake. For what? His grades. C's. A C+ in pre-calc, like it's some kind of Nobel Prize. "So proud," my dad kept saying. "Such a smart boy." (He always says that part in our language). My mom was beaming, making his favorite tea. Like he cured cancer or something. I got my scholarship letter last week. Full ride. State school. To study engineering. I showed it to them. My dad looked at it, grunted, "Good. Make us proud." My mom just nodded, "That's nice." That was it. No dinner. No cake. Nothing. Just… "good." As if it's expected. As if it's *less* than my brother barely passing a math class. I'm supposed to be happy. I got into college. Full ride. Something I worked my ass off for since freshman year. Staying up late, tutoring, AP classes. While he was… I don't even know what he was doing. Playing video games, probably. And they celebrate him like he's the golden child. I'm just… invisible. Like my achievements don't count unless they're struggling. Or unless I'm a boy. My stomach hurts. I watched them tonight, laughing, talking about *his* future, *his* plans. And I just sat there, eating my dinner, trying not to cry. (I failed, obviously. That's why I'm here.) I'm so tired of trying so hard for… what? Just to be told it's "good." Just to be a footnote in *their* story. Sometimes I just wanna scream. Or disappear.