My face beams down at the black-framed plaque in my lap. I'm careful not to let it slide as our car rolls over speed bumps and other hurdles. A gold ribbon shines in the sunlight from the window next to my name carefully scripted in old-fashioned lettering.

After years of preparation, I've placed first at one of the most prestigious piano competitions in the nation. For the past few months, piano has taken over my life to the point where the only places I go are school and the piano stool. I even made Zack listen to my recordings, not that he knew how to give me any feedback besides "that's really good."

Since the competition, my mom has been slightly less angry towards me. At least, I think she has. At least she's given me a smile since entering the car. While she hasn't exactly said she's proud, I can tell she isn't disappointed.

When we arrive at home, Daniel is back from another one of his convention things. My mom makes him dinner as I hang up my plaque. Even if my mom won't say she's proud of me, I'm proud of myself. That's worth something, right?

I go straight upstairs to work on my writing, a treat to myself for placing first. I write for hours until the skin between the fingers where I hold my pen is raw and my fingers are stiff.

Already in a good mood, my happiness rises when Zack texts me saying that he's here. I sneak out to where he's waiting at the end of the street with his truck. Dressed in a gray shirt and black jeans with a silver chain on his neck that matches his earring, and my bracelet on his wrist, he looks so unbelievably handsome that it's like gravity pulls me to him.

I wrap my arms around him immediately, feeling the hardness of his chest against my cheek. The only sound is the strong beat of his heart. He leans down, taking my face in his hands familiarly, and pushes me against his truck, kissing me like I'm air and he can't breathe. He presses against me like he can't get close enough. My hands caress the back of his neck and tangle into his hair as he touches my waist below my shirt.

"You always smell so good," he whispers against my skin as he trails kisses up my neck.

My mind goes blank. "It's uh... vanilla. Shampoo." He smiles against my skin and presses a delicious kiss to my cheek then the corner of my lip, finally resting on my lips. His lips start to move against mine more passionately than I'm used to and self-consciousness suddenly floods me. My lips still.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly, brows creased.

"I just... I don't know how... to kiss," I admit awkwardly as if he hasn't noticed how he's been doing all the work.

He gives me an affectionate smile and brushes my lips with his fingertips. "You're so cute," he says quietly. "Put your lips like this," he instructs and leans forward. "Use your bottom lip." He kisses me. "Relax and let me do the rest."

We're kissing again and my worries fade away. We're molded together.

It feels like he's made for me.

---

We hang out in the back of the truck, fingers interlaced, as he congratulates me on the competition and tells me about how his dad taught him how to shave even though he already knows how. When I tell him that I've rediscovered writing, he looks at me with bright eyes like stars.

---

What goes up must come down.

Stupid Newton and his stupid gravity. Stupid science. Stupid physics.

My heart has dropped and so has my mood when I see that where my plaque hung for a couple hours at most is now a framed photo of Daniel shaking hands with a man wearing a suit. My mom's thin handwriting graces the bottom:

Daniel with Mr. Lance Bryant, Clemson.

Maybe my plaque is somewhere else. Despite knowing that it's not possible, my eyes search the walls for it. After all, this isn't just any competition. I've been preparing for this since I was six.

I find it under Daniel's Clemson merch and old In-N-Out receipts. My dad always buys Daniel In-N-Out on road trips. It's like someone took the tiny bit of my heart that was left and squeezed it into nothing.

I grab the plaque and storm into the kitchen, where they're all eating ice cream.

"Why was this taken down?" I ask lowly. Only my dad glances up.

"We needed space for Daniel's picture. The Clemson recruiter is very interested in him!" my mom explains without a hint of guilt. In fact, her face beams with pride at Daniel but he's too busy playing phone games with one game and eating with the other to notice.

Hot tears fill my eyes and rain down my cheeks. "Why?" I sputter. "Why would you do that?"

"It's not a big deal. Stop being a baby," Daniel says, rolling his eyes.

"Of course it's not to you," I snap. "Everything you do is praised in this house! I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being treated like I'm less important like I don't matter. Mom," I start, turning to face her dead on. "I like my food spicy. I want to go to football games and I want to go shopping with you and I want you to, for once, be proud of me, like mother and daughter." I see her starting to interrupt me so I raise my voice. "And dad, would you stop thinking about football for one second and talk to me?! I want to have a relationship with you and I hate how most of the guys on the team know you better than I do. I know you're capable of it because I've seen you hug Daniel and Jaden... You know, sometimes I want a hug too." My voice breaks. "Both of you... You've given me a lot but never what I needed. I'm tired of feeling lonely when I'm with you, feeling like an outsider, like I could disappear and no one would even care. That you would be happier that way. I'm your daughter so why... why does no one here love me?"

My family is silent. I've never raised my voice before and while it feels good to let it out, I also feel a pang of indescribable guilt. I try to remember that if they had listened before, I wouldn't have had to.

My mom starts shouting at me in Korean, she's so angry. She yells about how I hate her and how I've made her the bad guy. "It's that boyfriend of yours! I knew I should have never had a daughter. Look at you, throwing yourself at boys with no future. Your brother would never-"

"Stop," I interrupt. "I'm done. Since you won't ever listen to me, I'm going to do whatever I want." I storm up to my room despite my mom yelling at me to come back down. I let myself cry and punch pillows and scream out the window.

The second my head hits the pillow, I fall asleep.

A/N: this week's last update! Your comments, reads, and votes mean SO MUCH to me. Stay safe and see you all next Friday