I'm staring at my phone, it’s like 2 AM. Scrolling through... nothing, really. Just the usual feed of people doing whatever it is they do. Got a gig tomorrow, gotta be up early, but my brain's stuck on this thing that happened last week. It’s like... a little pebble in my shoe, you know? Not a huge rock, just annoying enough to make you limp a bit. So, the fam had a dinner. Big shindig, like, my mom pulled out the good plates, which is rare. Usually it’s paper plates and a 'fend for yourself' kinda vibe. This was for my younger brother, who apparently... *achieved* something? Look, the kid's fine, whatever, but it was for his grades. Which, honestly, were... fine. C's and D's, with like, one B- thrown in there to make it look respectable. My parents, all proud, "Oh, look at *our* boy! He's really turning it around!" Like he just discovered a cure for something. Everyone's clinking glasses, making a big deal. And I’m just sitting there, sipping my lukewarm sparkling water, trying to conjure a smile. Because, side note, about a month ago, I got a scholarship. Full ride, actually. To a pretty decent place. For something I actually worked my ass off for, not just... scraped by. I told them, "Hey, got the scholarship!" And my mom was like, "Oh, that's nice, honey. Did you remember to clean your room before you left for school?" And my dad just grunted from behind his newspaper. That was it. No celebratory dinner. No good plates. Just... crickets. It’s weird, isn’t it? To feel that... nothingness. Like, it should sting, right? That they didn’t care about my actual accomplishment, but went all out for his very, very average showing. But it didn't sting. It was just... flat. Like a deflated balloon. I mean, I joked about it later to a friend, "Guess my academic prowess isn't as thrilling as my brother's ability to barely pass algebra." Laughed it off. But here I am, still thinking about it at 2 AM, when I should be thinking about how to make rent next month with this new freelance gig. Maybe it's just the hustle culture finally catching up to me. Always on, always performing, always trying to make enough for the next payment. No time for feelings, no time for disappointments. Just gotta keep moving. So yeah. That's the thing. The dinner. The plates. The grades. All just... a thing. And I'm just here, another cog in the machine, trying to earn enough to buy my own damn good plates. Maybe then I can throw myself a party.