The Laugh That Cost.

My younger brother used to come out with us until I learned I could make people laugh by cutting him down. Just little jabs at first, disguised as harmless banter, but I saw him flinch and still kept going because it made me look sharper, funnier, more magnetic. He stopped accepting invitations and started telling people he 'liked staying in.' Our parents ask why we're not as close anymore and I shrug, pretending I have no idea. But I do. I traded his comfort for attention, his trust for the cheap glow of an easy laugh, and once it worked, I didn't stop.