Carving out her own heart, hadn't always hurt.
Once, Fiona believed pain was proof.
Proof that she was trying.
Proof that she cared.
Proof that one day just one day she would finally be loved.
So she gave everything.
Obedience.
Patience.
Perfection.
Grueling acting classes. Endless training. Starving diets. Sleepless nights.
And when she wasn't chasing dreams, she was scrubbing floors, washing dishes, bending herself into the perfect daughter.
All for a single glance.
A single word.
"You did well."
But it never came.
And somewhere along the way…
The pain stopped hurting.
It became familiar.
Comforting, even.
Fiona had long accepted it.
After all—
She had always been the empty one.
***
A sharp voice pierced through the living room. "Fiona!"
It broke the stillness of her room, cutting through the soft flutter of the curtains. Fiona's eyes snapped open, her nap vanishing in an instant. She groaned, dragging herself upright; her muscles screamed in protest after hours of relentless chores, yet rest had been cruelly interrupted.
"Yes, Mom," she murmured, her voice still thick with fatigue.
Her hand moved to push the door open. She stepped into the living room and froze. Her father sat there, beside her mother. He never came home at this hour.
Something about the scene felt off.
The chair groaned under her weight, a small warning in the otherwise heavy silence.
"Um… Mom… should I make dinner? Are you hungry?" Fiona's voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "You shouldn't have to go hungry and Dad too… you both you're getting older. I can't risk seeing you in hunger."
Seriousness flickered across their faces, and Eva cleared her throat with deliberate precision.
"We'll be having a visitor by Friday," she said, her voice sharp, leaving no room for argument. "Mr. Manson Thames will be visiting to make your acquaintance."
Fiona's brow furrowed, a chill creeping up her spine. "Acquaintance?" Her voice trembled slightly, concern twisting her features. "I… I don't understand. Why would he want to know me?"
Eva's gaze snapped like a blade. "What a foolish question!" she hissed, her tone leaving no space for defiance.
Her heart plummeted, each beat hammering harder than the last, and her eyes instinctively dropped, refusing to meet her parents' unwavering gaze.
"Come on, Eva, stop scaring her," Brett said, his voice calm but firm. "Baby you're going to be engaged to Mr. Thames."
Engaged? The word slammed into her eardrums like a war drum. She scrambled to her feet, her feet stumbling backward as panic clawed at her throat. "What? Why should I, Why should I get married? I don't even know him! I just had my debut!" Her voice cracked, rising to a pitch she had never allowed herself before.
She froze when she lifted her eyes, meeting her parents' unyielding gazes. Shock and defiance collided within her; this was the first time she had ever raised her voice. Always respectful and obedient, Fiona now felt a storm she could no longer contain.
"Since when did you have the temerity to talk back to your parents? Have I been so lenient with you?" Eva snapped, shooting to her feet, her finger jabbing sharply at Fiona like a spear.
Fiona's mind raced, finally catching up to the boldness of her own outburst. Her chest tightened, and shame coiled in her stomach. Slowly, she sank back into the chair, voice trembling. "I… I'm sorry, Mom."
Eva leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with a calm, almost predatory elegance. Yet the sharp edge in her gaze never wavered. "Young lady," she said, her tone deceptively casual, "you'd better behave when our guest arrives. I have no idea when you became so bold but I assure you, this isn't the place for it."
Fiona's hands were locked in a vice in her lap, trembling as years of fear and suppression coiled tightly inside her. The frustration and helplessness that had been silenced for so long now surged, and at last, a single, quivering word tore itself from her lips.
"Mom, What about my debut?" Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
"You'll let it go," Eva snapped, her head tilting sharply toward Brett. "Forget everything about that stupid acting. Can you just listen to your daughter?"
She stayed slumped in the chair, every inhale a knife against her already raw throat, the agony in her chest twisting tighter with each heartbeat. Her eyes refused the world, fixed on the floor, as tears streamed freely, unstoppable and bitter.
Years of sacrifice, discipline, and hard work all of it, Eva seemed ready to throw away without a second thought.
Fiona's eyes narrowed, frustration and desperation warring in their depths. "Mom… is it about money?" Her voice shook, raw with pleading. "I'll work as many jobs as it takes. I'll give you every penny I earn… just… Please, be patient with me."
Tears welled up, blurring her vision, and her voice cracked under the weight of her fear. "Please… don't marry me off…"
Suddenly, Eva lunged, grabbing her clothes and shaking her violently.
"You ungrateful child! Is this how you repay us after everything after feeding and clothing you all these years? What kind of child could be so heartless toward their parents?" Her mother's menacing voice rang through the living room, sharp and unforgiving.
"Stop it!" Brett shouted, pulling Eva away.
"That's enough, honey." He turned to Fiona, who trembled, sobbing wracking her small frame.
In that tense moment, he knelt before her, gripping her hands tightly. "Baby, do you want to see us forced out of this house? To live on the streets of the U.S., moving from one shattered home to another?"
Her vision blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks, her hands fidgeting helplessly in her lap until Brett gently took them in his own.
"Baby, you're the eldest. When we're gone, you'll be the one to take care of your sister and the house. That's the responsibility of the eldest."
The acrid smell of cigarettes cut through the room as Fiona drew in a shaky breath. Eva, as always, smoked to ease her stress. "Honey, why are you coddling her?" Eva snapped, her tone sharp and venomous. "The weight of this house rests on her shoulders. She has no right to shirk her duty."
Fiona had never been coddled, never even called a baby. She had always carried the burden of accountability, forced to grow up fast, while Fallyn was treated as the golden child.
She knew it all too well, they had always treated her differently. No matter how hard she tried to earn their love, it was never enough. She was always left in the shadows, unseen and unvalidated. The burden of being the eldest was the only thing she clung to, an escape from thinking otherwise.
A restless ache coiled in her chest, each thought clawing at her mind like a crown of thorns. 'Why am I making Mom sad? Smoking is bad for her… she's supposed to come first. Maybe—just maybe—if I agree, if I surrender, they'll finally be happy. Maybe then… maybe then they'll see me the way they see Fallyn.'
She quickly shifted her gaze from her father to her mom. "Okay, Mummy, I'll do it."
Eva's eyes glimmered with a sharp, stylish edge. "Good," she said, her voice icy and controlled.
Fiona retreated to her room and grabbed her phone from the bed. She dialed Alexander, but the call wouldn't go through. Frowning, she sank onto the mattress, torn between going to his apartment and waiting until she could reach him.
It was evident that she must allow Alexander to confront the matter firsthand, ensuring he fully grasped the situation rather than being left in the dark.
Once she stood up, grabbed her coat that hung on the chair set and made her way to the door. The living room was empty, but she paid no attention to it; her mind was set on Alexander's condo in Pasadena, just a few minutes away from their house.
Upon arrival, Fiona walked straight to the door and pressed the doorbell. No response. She pressed it again. Still nothing. Unfazed, she entered the code, and the door clicked open.
The moment she stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind her, and a shiver ran down her spine at the low, unmistakable moans that filled the apartment. Her feet moved with caution, each step on the loft-style staircase deliberate, almost hesitant, as if the marble tile itself warned her to stop. The sound drew her closer, yet before she could reach the bedroom, a sharp, commanding voice sliced through the air freezing her in place.
"Ahh… that's the spot! Go harder, Lexy!" the voice trembled in ecstasy.
Fiona's heart froze. That voice so familiar, painfully familiar made her hesitate. Fear clawed at her as her hand trembled on the handle. Slowly, she pushed the door open, her eyes falling on the scene before her.
"Fallyn…" Fiona's voice trembled.
Her chest tightened until every heartbeat sent shivers racing down her spine. She stepped into the room, dragging her feet as though each movement weighed a thousand pounds. Used condoms and scattered clothes littered the marble tiles, carelessly abandoned across the floor and worst of all, the naked bodies of her sister and her boyfriend lay bare before her eyes.
"Lexy, what the hell have you done?" she called out, her voice hoarse and trembling.
In a split second, Alexander sprang off Fallyn. His hands shot to the floor, grabbing his boxers amid the mess. In a blur faster than the beam of a flashlight the fabric was secured around his waist, though his arousal had yet to subside.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" Alexander shouted, his voice cracking with fury, eyes blazing as he took a step forward.