After that, things just got worse.
The bartender tapped me on the shoulder, handed me a trash bag, and said, “Your brother said you’d help with cleanup. Start with the bottles.”
I blinked.
“Excuse me?”
But before I could ask again, Evan leaned in from across the bar and said, loud enough for others to hear, “Come on, man. Help out a little. It’s not like you’ve got work tomorrow.”
The table chuckled.
I forced a smile and took the bag.
As I bent to grab a cluster of empty glasses, one of our uncles muttered, “Nice of him to pitch in.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant it sincerely or sarcastically.
At that point, it didn’t matter.
Later in the evening, after the cake and the toasts, I was leaning near the railing, sipping quietly and watching the skyline.
Evan joined me.
His Rolex glinted under the patio lights, one of those obnoxiously large ones with a face the size of a coaster.
“You know,” he said, swirling his drink. “Maybe one day you’ll get a real job, too. Then we can celebrate you properly.”
His tone was light, but the venom was there.
Always was.
I didn’t react right away. I just sipped my drink, glanced at my own wrist.
Nothing flashy, just a leather strap Seikko I liked for its simplicity.
Then I looked him in the eye and said, calm as ever, “I thought about it, but then my lazy money started earning more than you.”
His smile faltered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
His voice rose just enough to draw a few looks.
“You sitting at home messing with apps or crypto or whatever doesn’t make you successful. It makes you a leech.”
Now that was new.
Direct. Unfiltered.
I could feel the heat in my chest, but I didn’t let it show.
Instead, I raised my glass, gave him a toast-worthy nod, and said, “Cheers to the only success here who still needs a boss.”
That’s when things started to shift.
His jaw tightened. His fingers clenched around his glass.
For once, I saw something flicker in his eyes that looked a lot like doubt or fear.
But I wasn’t done.
Not yet.
He tried to recover, laughing a little too hard.
“Right. Because passive income is just code for mooching off the system.”
Then he stepped closer.