Brown Sugar

I knew my family better than anyone else. Not as a daughter, or a twin. In simpler words, like the shadow. My only job in this family was never to be better than Simone, not to be prettier, and not to be skinnier. 'Simone, this. Simone, that.' It was all about the firstborn but not the twin sister.

She was the firstborn they had planned on, but a twin sister wasn't in the plan. So, at least, the night at the hospital was a nightmare. If my birth were to never be known, I'd probably never be able to leave the house. Or worse...

Our family was at a "Family Business" Meet and Greet Gala. I was and had to be inferior to her in any way, shape, or form. They didn't need me here, and I wanted nothing more than to be at home, reading or studying for college finals. I graduated from high school early and was in my fourth year of college.

At 22, I had completed more than Simone had, only to impress my parents, who wouldn't look my way.

Hence, I'm at the dessert table, far from my family. While they're going around showing off their perfect daughter. I was already on my fifth slice of strawberry cheesecake. Bored with eating the same thing, I looked around the table for other things to eat.

To say that I had a sweet tooth was an understatement. Leave me and this dessert table for the night; it'd be all gone except for the chocolate. It's too chocolaty. Ick. Seeing a cannoli covered in powdered sugar, I reach for one. Reaching for the creamy goodness, my hand is grabbed forcefully. "What are you doing?"

'Well, if it isn't the she-devil herself.'

"..." I gave her a confused face. "Eating?" I jessed

Judging by her scrunched-up face, she did not like my response. She asked a stupid question and got a stupid answer. She pulled me from the dessert table and sneered at me, "You've been eating for a whole family."

'Ohh, if only my stank eye could make you feel pain. '

Making our way to our 'caring' parents, they welcomed Simone with open arms. "There are my beautiful girls," my father chimed up. Kissing Simone on the top of her head, my eyebrow raised. Who is he trying to suck up to? Standing next to my father was an elderly Caucasian married couple.

"You two look nothing alike!" the elderly man laughed to himself. His green eyes looked at both of us happily. My sister and I looked nothing alike. Simone had long, tight, curly hair, light brown skin, and a slim figure. I, on the other hand, had short, loose, curly hair and dark brown skin, but I was curvier than my sister in more places than one.

'Might be from my high sugar intake...'

"This is my oldest daughter, the one who sent you that business proposal, the feature of my business." Our father placed his hands around Simone, showing her off to an elderly couple.

'Why am I even here?'

Shaking both of their hand, Simone speaks up, "Hi, I'm Simone Tiara Winters." Simone, starting with her full name, means this conversation will go badly for me. I hate when she does that. Pushing me with a hand on my shoulder, "This is Simone's twin sister."

'That's it?'

"Introduce yourself, Tiara." My father's stern voice spoke up. I ground my teeth, facing the couple. My father kept pushing me in front of them. God, did he call me here for this? Taking the older man's hand, I shook it. "My name is Tiara Winters, Tia for short."

Ever since I discovered that my name was just Simone's middle name, she told me I was just a fraction of her. Being called Tia makes me feel different, but my father hates that name. Telling me I'm just being rebellious and unaccepting of what I am given.

They didn't even think of naming me when she was born. It always made me mad that I didn't even have the right to own my name.

The grip on my shoulder tightened as I was placed behind Simone, still smiling, waiting to go home. I didn't want to be here if I hadn't said it enough. My father was clearly angry about my introduction, so he inconspicuously pulled me behind him, pushing Simone further. The woman stepped back, looking at my father. "It must be nice having girls. I have two boys, and they rarely talk to me."

There was a slight silence until the woman quipped, "Speaking of our boys, our youngest son. He's three years older and finally starting his own business!"

This piqued Father's interest in gaining a new business partner. "His name is Ethan," the man said.

She turned back, looking at my father. "He just branched out to the lodging industry and is looking for help," the elderly lady said, schemingly smiling. "And we received a proposal from your company?"

Our family specializes in accounting, but we also dabble in other industries.

"That proposal was marvelous. Which of your daughters wrote it?" my mother stepped forward, standing behind Simone. "Why, my lovely Simone, of course." This was a straight-up lie. That was my idea that Simone had stolen from me.

As a businessman's daughter, I always try to develop ideas that help the company. I have been scouring the internet and articles on up-and-coming businesses that look the least bit promising, trying to prove my worth in this family.

All my work was in my room, she never sets foot in my room, so I have to wonder who's been going into my room even when my doors are locked.

"She got accepted into a prestigious school!"

What a bald-faced lie. Simone was rejected and bought her way into that school. While I, on the other hand, worked my ass off to even get into any school, and got a few scholarships there. It's not like my parents would pay for my tuition. I thought they would look at me if I got into the same school as Simone.

'Yeah, and look where that got you...'

They still don't even know I'm going to that school. I know I'm trying too hard to gain their love, but sometimes, it's the only love I can afford to get.

While standing behind my family, I pulled at the fabric of my dress. It was too long. My father wouldn't let me wear heels, so the flats I wore made the long dress longer. To be fair, it was Simone's dress. She didn't want a dress that was too loose and "didn't show her body."

The dress she wore instead was a red cocktail mermaid dress.

'She looks like a plank.'

The dress was lovely, thought nicer than I could afford- It was an emerald green silk dress with sequins and a slit at the left leg. And because it was an off-the-shoulder dress with a deep dip, my breasts did not sit well. I had worn a shawl to cover the dress. It was a reasonably long shawl, as I hated how the dress shaped my body.

The tail of the dress was ungodly long. I wish I could have worn the dress I had picked, but Mother said she didn't want us to look like common people.

But this dress was bothering me. Along with being ungodly long, Simone was taller and skinnier than I was. And if eating more dessert tonight wasn't too much, the dress was getting too tight.

'I should've worn my own dress.'

'I should've stayed home.'

Trying to make the shawl cover my body more, I took a step back my flats caught the hem. And then-

The room tilted.

If my falling wasn't already embarrassing. Then, the loud crash of wine glasses falling to the ground and spilling all over me made the whole ballroom quiet. Like a gunshot had gone off in the room. Red wine splashed across silk, across skin, across the marble floor. Cold. Sticky. Everywhere.

Silence followed.

Thick. Suffocating silence.

I stayed there, frozen on the ground, covered in red wine.

"I-I'm sorry," I breathed, though I wasn't sure who I was apologizing to. Trying to get myself up. "My apologies, ma'am," The waiter boy beside me said with an outstretched hand. "No, it's alright. I tripped, and-"

"TIARA"

I flinched before I even looked up. My father's voice didn't need to be loud. It just needed to be his. I forced myself to stand without taking the waiter's hand. The wine soaked through the silk, chilling my skin. Mascara burned at the corners of my eyes. As tears almost threaten to spill.

"This is improper," my father said, his expression tight, controlled. Not angry.

"But, sir, I—" the waiter tried again.

"Enough." The boy fell silent immediately.

Every eye in the ballroom was on me. On the stain. On the girl who couldn't even stand correctly in a stupid dress that she didn't want to wear.

My mother's lips were pressed thin. Disgust flickered in her gaze before she masked it with a polite smile for the guests. And Simone—

Simone wasn't even pretending.

Her mouth curved. Small. Satisfied.

"Go clean yourself up," my father said quietly, like he was dismissing a servant.

"Yes, Father."

I gathered the ruined hem in my hands and walked away, feeling the red trail I left behind like evidence of a crime. For once, I wished the floor would swallow me.

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In the restroom, I tried wiping off as much wine as possible from the dress. It didn't matter. The red wouldn't come out.

"UGH!!" Throwing the paper towel in the mirror, I looked at my disheveled state. Mascara ran down my face from crying before I tried to fix myself. The parts of my hair wet from the wine were already curling back up after my flat ironing this morning.

"This can't get any worse," I muttered.

The door clicked open.

Looking over, Simone, 'I jinxed it,' was walking in. She had her arms crossed, looking me in her gaze, which dragged slowly from my smeared makeup down to the stained dress.

"You did a number on that dress." I narrowed my eyes at her. "What are you doing here? It's not like you care."

"I don't, but..." Simone walked while looking at the dress, tilting her head. "Do you know how much that dress cost?" I was already fed up with the night and didn't want to play any of Simone's games. "I don't care; go away, Simone." Looking at her through the mirror, she had a wicked smile and just laughed, amused. "You should care; you'd pay for the dress."

Turning around quickly, I looked at Simone, shocked. "What?!"

"No, you bought the dress?"

Simone looked at her nails with an indifferent look. "My card was maxed, and Mom or Dad wouldn't let me use their card, so I hope you don't mind I used yours."

"Surprisingly, your credit card didn't max out."

I was speechless. "Huh?" was all I could say. "Relax. You barely spend money anyway. I figured it wouldn't matter." I felt the air leave my lungs. "Simone, that's my tuition money."

She shrugged.

"Then you probably shouldn't have fallen in it." A heavy Silence filled the restroom. "You can't just use my card," I said, but even to my own ears, it sounded weak.

"Oh, I can." She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You wouldn't dare make a scene about it. That would embarrass Dad." With a smile on Simone's face, she walked towards the door. "Enjoy the dress; it looks good on you. I mean, it'd look better on me," she said as the restroom door closed behind her.

I stumbled towards the door after her, but eventually decided that going after her wouldn't make a difference. Letting out a deep sigh, I looked at myself in the mirror.

Mascara ruined the tear marks that ran down my face.

It had been a few minutes, and I had calmed down. I left the restroom, not caring about how I looked. I just wanted to go home. I'd wait till my family was done with the party. I didn't want to go back.

I grabbed the end of the dress and went to the front entrance room. Walking up to the cloakroom desk, "Winters, Tiara, number A45."

I handed my coat ticket to the woman, and she scanned the barcode on the back side. "It's saying that your items were already checked out?" I stood there defeated, not caring anymore. "By who?"

"Ah, it seems your sister Simone Wineters had taken your items."

I stood there dumbstruck. "Did any of my family leave yet?" She shook her head no. "It seems their items are still checked in."

"So they're still here?" I said, defeated.

Making my way through the long hall of this mansion, I walked out to one of the many balconies, shutting the door behind me. The cold fall air was just what I needed. Sitting in one of the chairs out here, I let my dress rise.

The breeze felt good; it was almost fall, and the cool air was cooling on my heated skin. Slowly, I started to drift off until a long bang shocked me awake.

"Fucking vultures!!"

Slamming the double doors, a man in a dark blue suit walks out to the balcony. "I hate these parties."

Still slouching in the chair, I watch the man walk to the edge and look over the balcony. "Welcome to the party," I spoke out to him. Surprisingly, he turned around and looked at me.

I know I had looked unsightly in the moment, mascara running down my face. My dress pulled all the way up to my thighs, and my green dress was covered in splotches and sticky red wine.

"What are you doing here?" He looked confused and irritated just by the fact that I was even breathing the same air as him. "Running away, just like you."

He scoffed at me, "This is a private balcony." I scrunched up my eyebrows. "The door was open, and you're here?" The look on his face just warped into utter devastation.

Holding up the gold rope that was lining every door in this hall, "This rope means private for the homeowner only." I scoffed at the man, "I'm sorry, your Sir Stinginess, I'll leave you to one of hundreds of doors in this hallway."

Sitting up in the chair, he stood in front of me, blocking my path. "I could have your whole family kicked out of this party and blacklisted." I rolled my eyes, letting out a bitter laugh, "Be my guest, they're down there somewhere showing off their 'perfect' daughter."

I shoved my way past him, speed walking down the hall back to the ballroom, as eyes stared back at me. I just didn't care anymore. I don't want to be here anymore. Walking my way up to my father, they were still talking to other couples, showing off Simone.

Feeling the familiar anger simmering beneath my skin, I forced a smile as the couple continued to praise Simone, completely oblivious to my presence. It was exhausting to watch. Trying to drown out their voices and the tension building inside me. The more they raved about Simone, the more invisible I felt.

The thought of escaping this suffocating situation for the comfort of my own home was tantalizing. My stomach growled, reminding me that I had indulged a bit too much at the dessert table, but the sweet taste of freedom sounded better than any cheesecake.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. It was now or never. I turned to my parents, who were still engaged in conversation with the elderly couple, completely unaware of my turmoil.

"Dad. A word?" I said, my voice steady despite the nerves racing in my chest.

They glanced at me, surprised, with Simone shooting me a look that clearly said, 'What do you want now?' I couldn't care less.

"Yes, Tiara?" my father replied, sounding a bit annoyed at my interruption.

"I, um, I don't feel so well. I think I need to head home," I said, looking directly into his eyes, channeling every bit of resolve I had. "I've been feeling off all day, and I don't want to risk getting sick at the gala."

My mother's brow furrowed in annoyance, but my father sighed, crossing his arms. "You were fine a moment ago. We'll be leaving soon anyway."

"But I'd rather leave now. I know Simone is doing great with the couple, and you're both in good hands." I gestured helplessly at them. "I wouldn't want to interrupt. The gala is about family networking, and I think I'm more of a distraction than a contributor."

Simone smirked with satisfaction, but there was a hint of annoyance in her eyes, clearly relishing the thought that I couldn't make it through the event.

My father's eyes darkened, and I knew he wasn't pleased with this decision. Reaching into his pocket, he took his phone out and made a call. "Hello Alex, yes.. No, my daughter needs a ride home. No, the other one."

My gut twisted as he just blatantly called me the other one over the phone. As he hung up, he looked over at me. "Go home and clean yourself up, you still look like a mess from earlier. As I walked away from the crowd, I momentarily stole a glance back at the couple. I could see the confusion written across their faces as our family broke apart. It didn't matter. I was free, at least for tonight.

Driving home, I could already feel the weight lifting off my shoulders, envisioning the warmth of my own room, and even the sweet indulgence of a well-deserved slice of peace.

As soon as the car pulled up to our home, a two-story home with plenty of yard around and a small koi pond in the center. Walking through the door, I was greeted by Jane and the rest of the small staff here in our home. The head maid and the nanny who raised my sister and me looked down on me.

"Where are the masters of the house?" Something lodged in my throat, compelling me not to talk. The stare she gave me was heavy and made me feel as if I couldn't breathe.

"They are still at the gala..." A loud sigh could be heard as footstep went away, and only Jane stayed behind. She followed closely behind, not saying a word, making it to my room on the far right side of the house, away from the other rooms.

Opening my door, I turned to Jane. "You can rest for the night. I won't need your assistance, I'm sure my sister will call for you soon when she's home." Jane showed no emotion on her face while she looked at me. Taking a bow, she walked away. Jane was my personal maid, whom Simone graciously gave to me. It's just a person she can use to keep an eye on me and to take away when she needs.

Finally, alone in my room, I struggled to free myself from the horrid green dress. I felt all sticky and couldnt bother with anymore for the night. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I plopped my head down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. The night was a disaster.

The constant belittling and humiliation from all the eyes around me at the party. I remembered the words my father spoke, 'The other one.' My throat dried as I struggled to swallow a lump in my throat. I wasnt even worth a name. The ceiling began to blur as tears pooled in my eyes again. And this is all over some stupid dress.

I sat back up to look at the culprit itselves the dress that Simone had used my card to buy. As if the thought just crossed my mind again, Sminone had used my card. Dread had filled me again. 'How much was that dress?'

Making my way over to my desk, I open my laptop, look at my bank statement, and see multiple charges to my card. Several on shoes and accessory and jewely. And two charged to 2 different dresses. Not only did she buy the dress she gave to me, but the one she had worn tonight. She had drained half of my account in one night, and if the night couldn't get any wore an email from school popped up.

'Silver Bay Business School — Tuition Payment Failed.'

I stared at the screen.

No.

No, no, no—

The room suddenly felt smaller. My savings were meant for tuition. And she just drained it. I swallowed hard. This wasn't about a dress anymore. This was about my future. And Simone had just set it on fire.