One month before the SATs, I started seeing my score floating above my head. It was a curse. Every time I completed a practice test, the number dropped by ten points. But for every day I skipped school to party, it went up by ten. I spent an entire month partying. The number above my head climbed to a perfect 1600. But when the actual results came out, I scored a 400. The 1600? That was my younger brother’s score. My parents, furious and humiliated, disowned me and kicked me out to work in a factory. That same night, I was cornered in a dark alley by a group of thugs and beaten to death. As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, I heard my brother’s voice. "You always thought you were smarter than me, Nathan. But in the end, you were just a fool who believed the number above his head." That was when I realized: the score I saw was controlled by him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. It was exactly one month before the SATs. Above my head, the neon number read 1300. "Nathan, let's do some practice questions tonight," my brother, Caleb, said with a sweet smile. I looked at him, grabbed the practice sheet in my hand, and lit it on fire with my lighter. "Exams are coming up. I'm done studying." The number above my head ticked up by 10 points. Caleb feigned disappointment, but the moment I turned around, I saw the smirk curl the corners of his lips. He has no idea. The show I’ve prepared for him is just beginning. Chapter 1 After rejecting Caleb’s invitation, I headed straight for my bedroom. But Caleb wasn’t ready to let me off the hook. He followed me, suggesting we go see a tutor. I slapped his hand away. "Cramming now is useless. Go by yourself if you care so much. I'm going to play video games." "Nathan, I know you're smart, but don't get cocky," Caleb said, repeating the exact words he used in my past life. He was testing me. He wanted to see if I truly believed the hallucination above my head. I met his gaze and smiled lazily. "Even without studying, I'll score higher than you." Caleb looked down, acting hurt, but he couldn't hide the gleam of triumph in his eyes. Watching his retreating back, I sneered. Caleb, this time, you’re the one who shouldn't get cocky. Back in my room, the score above my head had jumped to 1350. But the moment I cracked open a textbook, it began to plummet. By the time I finished reviewing the last chapter of calculus, it had dropped to 1200. I pulled up the feed from the micro-camera I had planted on Caleb earlier. On my screen, I saw him pacing his room, looking frantic. "Why is Nathan's score dropping? I knew that bastard was lying! He says he’s not studying, but he’s grinding behind my back. Why doesn’t he believe the projection?" A distorted voice replied from his phone speaker. "Calm down. If his score drops below 1000, the neural feedback will trigger a migraine so severe it’ll feel like an explosion. If he keeps studying, he’s just torturing himself." My heart skipped a beat. Neural feedback? Caleb laughed, his face twisting. "Good. If his brain fries, he deserves it for trying to play me." Watching the score continue to freefall, I frowned. I needed a way to trick the system. I spent the next hour testing variables. No matter what I did in the room, the score dropped. When it hit 1000, the number turned red and started flashing. A sharp pain stabbed at my temples. I panicked. I slammed the book shut, grabbed my keys, and drove straight to a high-end lounge downtown. I booked a private room and ordered a bottle. Only when the score climbed back up to 1400 did the pain subside. Back on the monitor, Caleb noticed the rise. "I knew it. Nathan is an idiot. He fell for it." "He’s probably out partying right now. He must be so happy seeing that score go up while he does nothing." "That moron actually thinks he’s getting a 1400. That score belongs to me!" Watching Caleb celebrate my "stupidity," I poured myself a drink and smirked. He didn't know I had already figured out the glitch in his little game. Chapter 2 I tossed the chalk onto the floor. I lay back on the velvet sofa of the VIP lounge, admiring the walls. They were covered—floor to ceiling—in complex mathematical formulas. This was what I had actually been doing all night. Because I was in a "leisure environment" and technically "wasting money," the system didn't register my mental work. The score above my head remained high. A waiter knocked, reminding me the tab was due. I dialed Caleb. "Bro, I'm stuck at the lounge. Cards are maxed out. Send me some cash, quick." "A lounge? Nathan, how could you go to a place like that right now?" Caleb’s voice feigned shock and concern. "I needed to blow off steam before the test. Don't tell Mom and Dad, okay? Just transfer me two grand." "You should come home and study," he chided. "Are you my brother or not? If the club calls Dad, I'm dead. I’ll be locked in my room studying for weeks. Just help me out. I need to relax." Caleb sighed, acting reluctant. "Fine. But you have to promise to study eventually." I agreed effortlessly and hung up. Caleb transferred me three grand—his entire savings. He wanted me to stay here and rot. I took his money and lived in that lounge for a month. I only returned home the day before the SATs, sporting dark circles under my eyes. Above my head, the neon number blazed: 1600. Caleb smiled, handing me my admission ticket. "You're finally back. Just in time for the test." "You useless waste of space!" My mother screamed from the living room. "The biggest exam of your life, and you disappear for a month to party?" "Why did you even come back? You should have died in a gutter!" Her words stung, even though I knew she had always favored Caleb. I tried to force a bitter smile, but my father was faster. He slapped me across the face. "Don't you dare smirk at me! You degenerate!" "If it weren't for your grandmother insisting, I wouldn't even let you sit for the exam!" He grabbed my ear, twisting it violently. When I tried to pull away, he kicked my knee, sending me crashing to the floor. "You spent a month in a club with god knows who? You probably have a drug habit or a pregnant stripper chasing you by now!" He kicked me toward my room. "I should just lock you in here!" Caleb intervened, playing the saint. "Dad, stop! Grandma said Nathan has to take the test. We can't disobey Grandma." At the mention of the family matriarch—the one who controlled the trust fund—Dad hesitated. He shoved me toward the door. "Go. It’s a waste of time anyway." I clutched my burning ear and limped to the car. Caleb and I were driven to the testing center. After the exams were over, Caleb rushed out of the center, beaming at our parents. "I crushed it. I feel like I got everything right. Can we throw the celebration party the day the scores drop?" Mom and Dad looked at him with pure adoration. "If you're that confident, Caleb, of course. We'll invite Grandma, too. She needs to see your success." "Yes! Grandma always favors Nathan, but this time, I’m going to give her a real surprise." At that moment, the floating number above my head flickered and vanished. I watched Caleb’s confident strut and smiled. Oh, little brother. You’re in for a surprise, alright. Chapter 3 The day after the exam, my parents took Caleb on a luxury graduation trip to Europe. They left me behind. I wasn't sad; I was relieved. With the house empty, I could finally work. I dialed a number I had memorized by heart. "Professor, I solved the equation you sent me last month." The voice on the other end gasped. "Nathan? You actually cracked the Riemann hypothesis variant? This is... this is going to change everything for the institute!" The Professor sent a car for me immediately. I spent the next month at the Advanced Research Institute, working on proofs and algorithms. I didn't leave until the day the SAT scores were released. The Professor’s driver dropped me off at the hotel where my family was holding the "Celebration Banquet." I walked into the ballroom. My parents and Caleb, tan from their trip, were surrounded by socialites and business partners. "Mr. Xu, you are so blessed. Two bright sons." "It's an honor to be associated with the Xu family." The crowd wasn't just here for test scores. Grandma, the iron-fisted matriarch of the Xu Corporation, had declared that whoever got into the better university would inherit her controlling shares. Today wasn't a party. It was a coronation. I took a deep breath and walked straight to Grandma. She smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Confident, Nathan?" I nodded. "I won't let you down, Grandma." In my past life, Grandma was the only one who loved me. But after Caleb framed me and my score tanked, she died of a heart attack three days later, heartbroken by my 'failure.' I wouldn't let that happen again. "Nathan, why lie to Grandma?" Caleb’s voice cut through the air. He marched over, phone in hand. "You spent a month getting drunk in a lounge. How could you possibly do well?" He flashed photos of me in the club, surrounded by bottles, to the guests. Dad looked at me with pure disgust. "If I were you, I wouldn't have shown my face today." "Caleb is estimating a 1580. You probably didn't even break 800. After today, the company belongs to your brother. You'll be begging him for scraps." "A loser preparing to leach off his brother... pathetic." The guests whispered and laughed. "I saw him downtown. He had a bottle in one hand and a girl in the other. Living the life." "A 1580? That's Ivy League material. Probably Harvard or MIT." "Caleb has always been the smart, handsome one. The company is safe in his hands." I scanned the room of sycophants. "The scores aren't even out yet. You're all licking his boots a little early, aren't you?" "Watch your mouth!" Dad snapped. "Bad grades and bad manners." "Someone's delusional," a guest laughed. "If partying got you into Yale, the clubs would be libraries." My dad slammed his car keys on the table—keys to a McLaren. "If you beat Caleb, this car is yours." I laughed. "Just a car? I thought you were a big shot, Dad." "If you trust Caleb so much, why not bet all your properties?" Mom hesitated, but the crowd egged them on. "A 1580 is a lock! Nathan has no chance." "Exactly. Even if you bet the whole estate, Nathan isn't taking a dime." I raised an eyebrow. "So, Dad? All your assets. Let's see your confidence." Dad wavered, but Mom whispered, "What are you afraid of? He's trash." Caleb nodded. "Trust me, Dad." Dad puffed out his chest. "Fine! Whichever son gets into the better school gets all my personal assets. Grandma is the witness!" Just then, the online portal for scores opened. Caleb stepped up. "I'll go first. Let's verify my estimate." He typed in his info with a flourish. The screen refreshed. Chapter 4 1580. The room erupted. "1580! It's real! Caleb is practically the CEO already." "A young man of such character and intelligence. We are in good hands." I frowned slightly. The number was high—exactly what he needed. Dad looked at me like I was a cockroach. "Wipe that look off your face. From now on, you serve your brother. Be a good dog, and maybe we won't starve you." "If you drag Caleb down, I'll kill you myself." I looked at him calmly. "I haven't checked my score yet. Are you sure I'm the dog in this scenario?" Slap! Mom hit me across the face. "Ungrateful brat! You wish you could serve Caleb!" Caleb looked at me with mock pity, which quickly turned to venom. "Nathan, I don't know why you hate me. But if your score is lower than mine, I want you to kneel and apologize for disrespecting Dad." He shoved the laptop toward me. "Check it." Under the gaze of hundreds, I typed in my info. The screen loaded. I blinked. 400. It happened again. My score and Caleb's score combined... roughly equaled a perfect score plus the baseline. He had siphoned everything. "400? You get 400 just for signing your name!" "Brain dead. Thank god he's not the heir." "All that arrogance for a 400?" Caleb sneered. "Nathan, kneel." "You're clearly mentally unstable. As the new CEO, I'll send you to a specialized facility. I hear the shock therapy does wonders." "But if you beg nicely, maybe I'll let you be treated at home." "Kneel? You're not worthy," I said. Caleb kicked the back of my knee. Dad grabbed my shoulder and forced me down. I looked at Grandma. She sighed, her eyes dull. "Nathan... I am so disappointed." "Grandma, the admissions letters haven't come out yet!" I shouted. The crowd laughed. "Admissions? With a 400? Maybe community college... if they're desperate." "Is he delusional?" "Caleb is too nice. Just kick him out." Caleb sighed theatrically. "Nathan, you see? You have to kneel, or the investors won't respect me." He signaled security. A guard kicked my other knee, forcing me to the ground. I tried to stand, but Caleb stepped on my face, grinding his heel into my cheek. "Nathan," he whispered, "I want you to watch me get into MIT while you rot. When I leave for college, I'll have your tendons cut. You'll be a cripple forever." He laughed, standing up as the doors opened. The admissions representatives from the top universities had arrived. "Watch this," Caleb said, walking toward them with open arms. But as he reached them, his smile froze. The show was about to start.
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