My parents' divorce split us apart. My sister went with Mom, and I was left with Dad. After the divorce, Dad's temper grew worse. He spent his days drinking or beating me, ignoring everything else at home. With no money for food or necessities, I had to work under the table at the local market after school just to keep us afloat. One day, after Dad knocked me out and stole my hard-earned cash again, strange text floated across my vision like a livestream chat. [The little sister is still in the dark. She doesn't know her parents never divorced.] [This is all just a reality show. They want to see the difference between raising a child in poverty versus wealth.] [The little sister is so pitiful, starving and cold, while the big sister lives in a mansion eating like a queen.] Following the chat's instructions, I found where my sister lived. I saw her in an expensive princess dress, walking out of a villa arm-in-arm with our parents. They got into a Rolls-Royce and drove away. Clutching my aching, empty stomach, bitterness flooded my heart. So, they never divorced. So, I was the only one suffering. And the reason they chose me for the "poverty experiment"? Because I was the obedient one. 1 I stood there, frozen, staring in disbelief. If I had doubted the floating text before, seeing my well-dressed parents and sister together shattered any skepticism. They were still together. We weren't broke. I was just the only one left in the dark. Was I abandoned because I was the good kid? I clutched my chest, the pain making it hard to breathe. The chat scrolling past my eyes told me this was all a game. Rich people behind screens loved watching this kind of "reality TV," tipping thousands of dollars a day. So, my parents did this for money? Standing under the bright sun, I felt cold to my bones. My phone buzzed. A text from my sister, Chloe. "Sis, heard you're working odd jobs to survive? Poor thing." "But you've always been the sensible one. You'll work hard, right?" Her tone dripped with schadenfreude. Chloe had always been the sweet talker, knowing exactly how to make our parents smile. I was the quiet one, always in the background. In middle school, I ranked first in my grade while Chloe was at the bottom. Instead of praising me, my parents scolded me for showing off in front of her. That was when I knew they favored her. "What are you doing?! Look at the time!" A familiar shout snapped me back to reality. I realized I had walked to my workplace without thinking. It was my daily part-time job. After the "divorce," Dad became an alcoholic. He was either drunk, asleep, or hitting me. He never gave me a dime. Sometimes, he even stole my wages for booze. Because I was under eighteen, most places wouldn't hire me. I could only work illegal shifts at the market. "I'm sorry..." I apologized numbly, took the greasy apron, and started working. It wasn't until midnight that I clutched my day's pay and carefully navigated the dark alley back home. I turned on the light. The dim bulb illuminated our dilapidated, damp apartment. Peeling paint, cracked windows, faded furniture. Dad, usually drunk at home, was gone. I guessed he was with Mom and Chloe. They were a happy family. I lived in a slum. After eating a cup of instant noodles, I lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. I knew there were cameras hidden in the corners, broadcasting my every move to screens elsewhere for entertainment. Unable to sleep, I took out my phone and scrolled aimlessly. The floating text suddenly displayed a website link. [This is their livestream site. Poor Little Sis doesn't know anything, working so hard.] I held my breath and carefully typed the URL into my old phone. It was a hidden site with many live channels. In the most popular room, I saw myself. And my parents. And Chloe. They were in a high-end restaurant, feasting on lobster and abalone. I smelled the lingering scent of instant noodles in my room and swallowed hard. At this moment, I felt like the ugly duckling, peeking at the swans' happiness from the shadows. 2 I got home at 9 PM. Final exam results came out today. I ranked first again. On the way back from the market, I bought a small piece of sponge cake as a reward. It was the cheapest kind, two dollars, no frosting. But it was the best I could afford. Back home, I placed the cake carefully on the table and broke off a small piece. The texture was rough, but the egg flavor was strong. My nose stung. I couldn't remember the last time I had cake. Suddenly, the chat floated by again. [Little Sis is so sad. Celebrating first place with a two-dollar cake.] [Big Sis is different. Ranked last but feasting with parents.] The comments discussed the feast my family was having. The cake in my mouth turned tasteless. It was too quiet alone. I opened the livestream site again. Sure enough, Mom, Dad, and Chloe were gorging themselves at a fancy Japanese restaurant. I saw Mom smiling, patting Chloe's head, saying grades didn't matter as long as she tried. I saw Dad put a large piece of fatty tuna in Chloe's bowl, saying even with bad grades, he'd send her abroad to study if she wanted. They chatted happily, planning Chloe's future. Not a word about me. It was as if I didn't exist. As if Chloe was an only child. I closed the stream, feeling dim. Halfway through the cake, heavy footsteps sounded outside. Dad was back. I wanted to show him my grades. I forced a smile. But before I could hand over the report card, he shoved me. "Got any money? Give me money for booze!" I shrank back. "I... don't have much." He had taken almost everything last time. "Working and no money? Liar! Go buy it!" He kicked my shin. Pain shot up my leg. A bruise formed instantly. I didn't dare speak, grabbed my loose change, and ran out. I bought the alcohol and returned in the dark. "I got it." Watching him drink, I gathered my courage. "Dad, exam results are out. I got..." Before I could say "first," he roared impatiently. "What's the use of a girl studying! You'll just get married! Hurry up and graduate, get a job, and give me money! That's what matters!" My eyes widened. I remembered the livestream. They encouraged Chloe to study, to see the world while she was young. Why was it useless for me? I crumpled the report card in my pocket and never took it out. Dad finished the booze and stumbled out, knocking over the table. My half-eaten cake fell to the floor. He stepped on it without a glance. Bang. The door slammed. Footsteps faded. I looked at the crushed cake and cried. 3 Dad didn't come back for a long time. From the livestream, I learned Chloe wanted them to accompany her before the SATs (college entrance exams). I sat in the damp rental, feeling like my heart was soaked in ice water, shivering. On the day of the exam, I walked to school alone. Luxury cars zoomed past. I saw Chloe's smiling face in one. After the exam, I saw my parents waiting at the school gate. I smiled instinctively. Just as I stepped forward, they waved enthusiastically in another direction. I followed their gaze and saw a beaming Chloe. I froze. I watched the three of them walk away together, arm in arm, until they disappeared. The chat filled my vision again. [Big Sis is truly the favorite. Three days of full accompaniment, eating gourmet food.] [Little Sis ate steamed buns and pickles for three days. No nutrition.] [Is torturing Little Sis just for the show?] I took out my phone and checked the stream. I saw my parents replying to comments. [It's to toughen her up. Can't spoil her young. Plenty of kids have it worse, why can't she handle it?] [Once the acceptance letters come, we'll bring her home. We won't mistreat her then.] Reading their replies, I smiled bitterly. "Won't mistreat her." As if I should be grateful. Why? Did they think one sentence could erase six years of suffering? 4 After the exams, I frantically looked for more work. I didn't know if they'd pay my tuition, but I knew they didn't love me. Results day. I went to school. Looking at my score on the screen, my teacher was thrilled. "Maya, first place again! I knew you'd get into Capital University." I rushed home, planning to dig out my savings for tuition. Money I had secretly saved from my jobs. But home was a wreck. My hidden money was gone. Dad was snoring on the sofa, clutching a bottle. I grabbed his collar, screaming, "Dad! Where's my money?!" He woke up, pushed me away, and cursed. "Yelling at your father? Your money is mine! I raised you, spending your money is my right!" "That was my tuition! I got into Capital University!" He glared, fierce as a demon. "Study what? You're eighteen! Go work! Don't ask me for money!" I shook with rage, tears falling. "No. I'm going to college. I'll earn the tuition myself." I turned and left. The sun was scorching. I walked to the market, but my old stall was empty. Wondering where to find work, someone blocked my path. It was my sister, Chloe. She wore a brand new designer dress and crystal necklace. I looked down at my faded t-shirt and sweatpants, ashamed. "Sis, heard you did well? Your name's on the honor roll. Amazing." She smiled, voice gentle. "Looking for work? It's too dirty here. I'll introduce you to a tutoring job. It's for a friend of Mom's. Safe." Seeing the concern on her face, I felt a pang of emotion. In the end, only she was willing to help.
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