Chapter Two

The bite of early winter winds did little to distract Aster from the throbbing pain in his right hand.

After injuring himself on heavy machinery, it took no more than ten minutes for him to be unceremoniously fired, receiving only a bundle of gauze for his injury.

And now, Aster stood outside the cheap white plywood door of his family home, trying to muster the courage to step inside. He could hear them bustling around inside, his mother giving hushed orders to his siblings.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, unsure of what to say. His gaze lingered on his wounded hand. The injury wasn't severe enough to cripple him permanently; a hospital visit would likely set him on the path to recovery. But for his family, that was not an option.

Aster sighed deeply and resolved to enter. Sleep was just two doors away, and he could leave his problems for the Aster of tomorrow.

He stepped into the darkened kitchen of his family's apartment. The small space lacked windows, so Aster had to feel around in the darkness with his functioning left hand for the light switch.

Flip. The room was suddenly filled with sterile, fluorescent light.

"Happy birthday, Aster!" A chorus of cheers erupted from his family, partially hidden behind the kitchen table. The surprise nearly knocked Aster off his feet after spending hours in the cold.

Faced with his family's eager stares, he managed a strained smile. In the midst of the day's stress, he had completely forgotten it was his birthday.

Across the room, his mother Isabella lifted Aster's younger brother Louis with a broad smile. To either side were his younger sisters, Ella and Mia.

His family ushered him to the table's 'seat of honor,' a faded red pillow on a plastic folding chair. He tried to resist, citing his exhausting day, but his siblings insisted. Before he could gather his thoughts, they placed a large slice of fluffy white cake in front of him.

Ella and Mia watched with expectant smiles, waiting for him to eat. Aster's gaze lingered on the cake, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of thoughts.

The slice was covered in luxurious fondant and topped with whipped cream. His mind raced, calculating how much his family had spent on this surprise.

'We can't afford this.'

Their smiles turned to concern as his sisters murmured questions about whether he disliked their gift. His mother stepped forward, offering comfort.

"Mia, Ella, don't rush your brother. He's probably exhausted," she said, her face wrinkling into a soft smile.

Her words, meant to calm him, only made things worse. Aster's heart pounded as his thoughts spiraled into worry. He broke the silence, voicing his turmoil.

"I—We can't afford this."

His mother's voice held a hint of sadness. "I know we can't, sweetie, but today is special. You're worth splurging for."

She didn't fully understand. Aster struggled to express himself, his mind disoriented by the throbbing pain in his hand.

"No, Mom, we can't afford this because I lost my job today. You can't afford this." His hands trembled as he imagined the worst-case scenarios.

Ella and Mia watched quietly, tears threatening to spill. He realized how strong they were, more than he had given them credit for. The thought of them taking his place in the factory terrified him more than the future of his hand.

The worry on his family's faces cut deep. He stared at the cake, a heavy weight in his chest.

"Aer…" His mother's voice, using the childhood nickname, was gentle. "It's going to be okay. The cake was paid for. We'll figure it out tomorrow. For now, enjoy your cake and get some rest. Please."

Aster knew she was right, but by the time he tried to speak, it was too late.

"No, Mom, you don't get it. None of you do." He pulled his hand from his pocket, revealing the blood-soaked bandages.

The sight was more grotesque than intended, the wrap stained dark crimson with bits of dried gore.

"I can't work anymore. We're going to lose the apartment. We'll be on the streets, and there's nothing we can do," his voice cracked, almost breaking.

His family was in tears; his little brother didn't understand, but his sisters did. Aster felt as if he was watching himself from a distance, causing pain to those he loved. He was lashing out like a cornered animal. His voice continued to rise.

"I've been working in that factory since Dad died. I was twelve, Mom. I spent all that time imagining what life would be like once I could finally live it. Now…"

His next words bubbled up uncontrollably.

"There is no tomorrow, Mom. I sacrificed everything, and now my life is over before it even started."

The cold outside barely registered for Aster.

He had to leave, unable to bear the sight of their hurt or risk his mother calling an ambulance. He simply didn't know what to do.

He fled, leaving the cake untouched. Regret churned in his stomach.

He walked on, letting his mind dwell on his words.

'So this is what rock bottom feels like, huh?'