It's sometimes the pressure to be perfect that keeps us from getting as close as possible... and

For the love of God, am I to be constantly treated like my brother's understudy?

Tonight, we sat down as a family and went over his report card. First in his class, A average, exceptional grades all around... yadda yadda ya. Far better than I did at his level, with way less effort.

It's just the way the cookie crumbles. I work twice as hard, he does twice as good. It's irrelevant that I came first, tried first. When my parents see my grades, my results... it's a tiny pat on the back - "You could have done better!". By the time my brother steps up to the bar, and his results come around? The whole world cheers for their brilliant boy who makes it all look so damn easy.

It's gonna sound terribly sour and bitter, but I've come to accept that where I stand is on the sidelines. I stand just behind the curtain. Should the star, for any reason, need an understudy to step up and take his place.

I'm obviously not the cute one, the funny one, the good looking one, the smart one.

Which one am I?

The spare? 

Surrenderingly yours,
me.