I sat in the front row-not by choice, but because I was forced to watch the only man I had in my life marry someone else. The scent of jasmine clung heavily to the air, giving me a headache. Friends and family gathered to congratulate my father, who stood on stage beaming with pride as he looked at the woman he was marrying.

I hated the idea of this wedding, but I agreed to it. My father is all I have left since my mother died in an accident five years ago. He's always been a good father. Even though I'm rude, bold, stubborn, and arrogant, he's loved me without question-because I was his only son. But not anymore.

Wichian-the only son of the woman my father married-would now be living in our house. Just look at him, acting so pleased to marry off his mom. My eyes found him immediately. He wore a crisp white shirt under a half-white suit. His hair was neatly styled. He was just a couple of centimeters taller than me and two years older.

He didn't talk much-just stood there beside his mom with a polite smile for the guests. But his eyes said something different. They looked... empty. He didn't seem happy at all. So why the hell did he agree to this marriage? He could've stopped it. Then maybe both of us could've had peaceful lives.

As I watched the drama unfold on stage, Wichian glanced at me. Just for a moment. The smile he wore faded when our eyes met. He turned away quickly, like I was about to devour him.

He's only eighteen, but he doesn't look like it. His body's well-built, his white skin glowing under the lights. His lips looked soft... plump. Even though he didn't dare look at me again, I found myself wanting to know everything about him.

I kept my expression blank, staring at him until-

"Hey, what's up, man?" a voice interrupted from behind me.

It was Tor-my only real friend, the only one who could deal with my endless tantrums. His dad worked in architecture, just like mine.

"Your brother's kinda good-looking," he teased, nudging me. "Stop staring before he thinks you're in love already."

I sighed and turned away, pretending to chat with Tor.

Wichian's POV:

I never liked the idea of getting my mom married to anyone-not after seeing what my mom went through. My real father was abusive, both mentally and physically. She had to go through many assaults until she finally divorced him. I was relieved when it ended. She deserved better.

Years later, while working at an architecture firm, she met a man-her boss-who proposed to her. She asked me first. Said she wouldn't marry him unless I was okay with it. And even though it hurt, I wanted her to be happy. She deserved every bit of happiness.

So here I am, standing on a wedding stage beside her. Not for me. For her.

I knew I wasn't the only one unhappy about this marriage. Her new husband's son, Sorawit, looked like he wanted to murder someone. He sat in the front row, dressed sharply in a pink polo and white pants and suit, looking straight at me. His stare was intense, sharp. I told myself not to look at him-but my eyes betrayed me.

Just for a moment, I glanced his way. The second I did, he caught me.

I offered a small, polite smile, but he didn't return it. Just kept staring at me with unreadable eyes. I couldn't hold his gaze. Something about it made my heart clench. Like something unspoken passed between us. Something I didn't understand. Until Someone joined him-probably a friend. Only then did he finally look away.

I knew I wasn't welcome. But I wasn't here to cause trouble. I just wanted my mom to be happy.

Later That Evening...

The party was over, and all I wanted was rest. But the worst part was still ahead. moving into my stepfather's house. I was tense. Nervous. What if they hated me? Should I stay in a dorm instead? But I'd never been alone in my life. My mom had always been there.

We waited in the lobby. Two white luxury cars pulled up.

"Wit, ride with your brother. He might get bored alone," my stepdad suggested.

But Sorawit didn't even look at us. "No. I've got some errands. I'll come with Tor," he said calmly. Not angry-just distant and annoyed.

He walked past us without a glance.

I felt the sting of rejection. My mom touched my arm gently, concern in her eyes. I forced a small smile and blinked, letting her know I was fine.

"I'm sorry about him," my stepdad said. "Give him some time, son."

I nodded silently.

They left in the first car. I got into the second one. As it pulled away, I saw Sorawit hop onto the back of Tor's bike through the side mirror. The further we drove, the more that image faded-just like my mental energy.

The New Home:

We arrived at a white bungalow lit with soft golden lights. Minimal but elegant decorations covered the entrance. My mom and stepdad got out like they belonged here. But not me.

Everything felt too quiet, too cold. This wasn't my home.

I froze in the car.

"Wichian! Come inside. Let me show you around," my stepdad called.

I exhaled, adjusted my shirt, and stepped out.

Inside, the house was grand-high ceilings, white interiors, modern decor. My chest tightened. This place wasn't mine. I didn't belong.

But then I felt a hand squeeze my wrist. My mom. She smiled gently. That small touch gave me the strength to move forward.

"This is my room," my stepdad said, pointing. "Yours and Sorawit's are upstairs. You'll find your names on the doors. You must be tired. Just get some sleep. Let's chat tomorrow morning."

I thanked him and climbed the stairs, exhausted. One door had my name on it. Inside was a huge bed, walk-in closet, and even a bathtub. It was beautiful-but I felt hollow.

Maybe it was just fatigue.

I showered and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.