...Prorogue ...

December 24, ****

That was my birthday. An unexpected bundle... I was a "surprise". That's what the caretaker told me about my birth. My parents were busy people. My mother was constantly going on Photoshoots and film sets. Father was the leader of the business world. A lawyer who stepped in to continue his parents work.

"Happy birthday, Alexander." that was my nanny. She was like a mother more than my own mother. It feels cruel to say it, but I never felt wanted.

"Amy, will mother and father come early today? Will they bring gifts? Or cake?"

"I am sure they will, Young Master, Madam and Sir both love you."

It felt hollow. It was like Amy was trying to convince me that I am loved. Strange? Why would a child need to be convinced of a fact?

Later that day, 9 pm.

"Amy, Maria, is Alexander asleep?" My mother, Mary Spencer asked.

"Just now, Madam, he was waiting for you to return" Amy replied.

"It's good that he slept, he should not up and about at this time of the night." It was my father, Rupert Spencer. His voice was low and calm as usual. He was always composed.

They didn't know I was awake. That I was hearing everything.

"The young master seemed sad. He seemed to expect you both to-" Maria star, but father cut her off.

"He is just 5, he'll forget this tomorrow."

But I didn't. My parents forgot my birthday. Next morning was Christmas Eve. Were they busy? Perhaps tomorrow they'll give me presents and get me cake?

...----------------...

*alarm rings*

What time is it? 6: 15…

I woke up and brushed my teeth. My hair started to grow out. I should cut it before father says something about it. I looked at the calendar… It was my result day.

I went down by 7, having cleaned up and groomed well. Hair put back, shirt ironed. Uniform looking clean. Bag set. I looked like the model student. Except I am not. My grades never went past 94 percent. My rotten luck, as I call it. If it was a 94 again... Never mind. It is a 94. I know it. No matter how much effort I put into my studies, how much I spent my extra time getting "credentials", I could never.

I locked my dorm room and went down to the cafeteria building. My usual sandwich and milk shake. I want to try coffee, but my brother has a routine of drinking coffee.

'You are Mr. Arthur's brothers?' that was my homeroom teacher's first question on name call.

My brother, Arthur Rupert Spencer, is seven years older than me. He is what the world calls a "prodigy". He was gifted in both academics and music. His piano skills were advanced when he was 7. He rocked the stage as a mere child. So, being his brother, I had some pretty great expectations to fill out.

Not once in my life was I able to shine as myself. My very existence revolves around my family. My name. Spencer. I am the shadow of the Spencer family.