My stepbrother, Julian, hates my guts. But I love to stick to him like glue. He paid me two thousand dollars to not walk home with him. He paid twenty thousand to get me to transfer out of his class. But every time, I'd come crawling back. After graduation, he transferred a huge sum into my account and said coldly: "Here's five million dollars. Go study abroad. Never appear in my house again." My eyes turned red, and I lowered my head, whispering, "Okay." YES! He finally took the bait. 1 I walked in on Julian trying—and failing—to kiss the scholarship student. It was a dim karaoke room. He was slumped in the corner sofa, looking exhausted, his sharp profile obscured by shadows. A girl in a white dress stood next to him, hands on either side of him, leaning in tentatively. When I burst in, she jumped, turning to face me in a panic. Her eyes were wet, like a frightened deer. "Nia, I..." I ignored her and walked straight to Julian. "The driver's here to pick me up. Dad said to bring you home too." He picked up his jacket, draped it over his shoulders, and followed me out. It was late. The hallway was quiet. He closed the door but didn't leave. He leaned against it, looking lazy. "She almost kissed me." "..." I said nothing. His voice took on an edge of annoyance. "She's very timid. It took her a lot of courage to do that." I unlocked my phone, showed him the time and the text from my stepfather, and explained quietly. "Dad really told me to pick you up." He glanced at it and gave a perfunctory, "Oh." "I'm eighteen. I graduated high school. He can't control me anymore. Tattling won't work." The psychedelic lights shifted, illuminating his features. His cheeks were flushed. He was drunk. I gripped my sleeve, my voice barely a whisper. "But..." He cut me off impatiently. "Go home by yourself." "And—" His fingers tapped on his phone screen. "Here's five million dollars. Go study abroad. Never appear in my house again." "Let's never see each other again." "Nia, I really hate you." He never wanted to see me again. Instantly, my eyes reddened. I lowered my head, suppressing a sob. "Okay." Julian turned back into the karaoke room and slammed the door hard. I checked my banking app. The numbers were correct. Finally, I couldn't hold it back. I squatted down, covered my mouth, and let out a muffled giggle. YES! He finally took the bait. 2 Julian has hated me for a long time. He thinks my mom and I are gold diggers after the Sterling family fortune. He's not wrong. When I was fourteen, he put two geckos in my bed to scare me out of the house. I cried. To comfort me, my stepdad gave me more allowance. Seeing the money, I was happy again. When we were sixteen, we ended up in the same high school. He didn't want to be in the same class as me, but he didn't want his dad to yell at him and then pay me off again. So he skipped the middleman. "Twenty thousand." "Transfer out of this class." Freshman year, I left. Sophomore year, I came back. He never specified a time limit. When I walked back into the classroom with my backpack, Julian's face was black as thunder. The guy in front of him laughed. "Jules, your sister is persistent." Julian said coldly, "She's not my sister." Everyone smirked knowingly. Julian looked at me, frowning. "What will it take for you to disappear from my sight?" My eyes turned red. "Do you hate me that much?" He flashed a number with his fingers. I bit my lip. "Sorry, wrong classroom." 3 I discovered a business opportunity. Julian was seriously rich. His mom, living abroad, paved his road with gold. When he played golf, I was the cheerleader, fetching water and holding his jacket. He confronted me. I looked up at him, starry-eyed. "I just admire you, big brother. Is that wrong?" He transferred me money. "Go shopping if you're bored. Stop bothering me." I happily accepted. I pestered Julian for over a year. Everyone knew he had a stepsister like me. They even joked about visiting him in the orthopedic hospital (a Chinese slang reference to incest/broken legs). Over time, Julian stopped explaining. He just threw money at me to make me go away. But I would never leave my ATM. On Julian's 18th birthday, he got drunk. When he came home from the hotel, I held a bowl of hangover soup in one hand and supported him with the other. I hoped his drunken vision would add an extra zero to the transfer. He squinted at me, looking down, and suddenly said: "Nia, you really are manipulative and scheming." His tone was mocking. I paused on the stairs. Insults cost extra. Suddenly, he grabbed my waist, turned off the lights, and pinned me against the railing of the spiral staircase, kissing me. My vision went dark. Only his face, magnified. His breath was like a storm. Shocked, I pushed him away. The bowl smashed—crash—and tumbled down the stairs. Stepdad called from upstairs, "Nia, what happened?" I suppressed the tremor in my voice and cried out my usual grievance: "Brother is drunk and throwing a tantrum! He broke my bowl!" Julian lowered his head, leaning against the railing, silent in the dark. Stepdad sighed. "He's like that. Gets crazy when he drinks. Ignore him, go rest. I'll help him." I fled back to my room. At 3 AM. Julian texted me. [Sorry.] [Didn't see clearly. Thought you were someone else.] It was his first apology. But it was an insult. Attached was a transfer. I didn't accept it, and I didn't reply. 4 I found out later who "someone else" was. One of Julian's pursuers. A scholarship student who was always in the top ten of the grade, named Leah. She was insecure and timid, only daring to look at him from afar. And Julian noticed her. He said, "She's like Nia. Always looking pathetic." "Who is she putting on a show for?" He hated me, but he enjoyed watching Leah act that way. After school, I waited in the car for him. He came out with a girl in a school uniform trailing behind him. The car door opened. He didn't get in. Holding her backpack, he raised an eyebrow at me and said nonchalantly: "Get out." I froze for a second. Leah raised her hand cautiously, tugging at his sleeve, her voice soft. "Forget it, Jules." "I can go home by myself." Julian didn't budge, his voice turning cold. "I'm taking her home." "I transferred you the money. Take a taxi." Why didn't he give me enough to buy a car? Whatever. Quit while you're ahead. I nodded awkwardly, bit my lip, clutched my backpack straps, and obediently got out of the car. Dusk fell, and the crowds dispersed. I stood alone by the roadside, staring at the tips of my shoes, tears falling one by one. Only when the car drove off in the opposite direction did I wipe my tears and check Julian's message. $2,000? Good thing I didn't check it in front of him. I wouldn't have been able to cry. 5 Julian gave me the five million too late. I hadn't prepared for the IELTS or TOEFL, so I had to cancel most of my travel plans and parties to hole up in my room memorizing vocabulary. Julian was downstairs throwing a party with his rich friends. The music was loud. I took off my headphones and went downstairs. "Can you keep it down?" Julian's friend patted the empty seat next to him and smiled. "Nia, you're home? Why not join us?" I pursed my lips in a shy smile. "I'm upstairs memorizing vocab." "Vocab?" Someone finally turned off the music to listen. "I thought people who actually study that hard only existed online." "Leah is here too. Come join us." Julian hadn't looked up once. Leah sat next to him, smiling gently at me. Then she looked like she wanted to say something but stopped. "Nia, are you planning to repeat a year?" I didn't know her well. Calling me Nia so intimately... looks like things are getting serious with Julian. She continued, "It's okay if you didn't do well." "Uncle Sterling is so rich, you probably have lots of backdoors." Sensing the tension, everyone went quiet. I said gently: "Yes, my family is rich. Doesn't matter how I test." "Leah, are you worried about your scores?" Her face went pale. Julian finally looked up, patting her hand reassuringly. "Nia, don't be so mean." I nodded. "Okay." "I'm going up to study. Keep it down." I put my headphones back on and walked up the stairs. I could feel gazes burning into my back.
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