{The Yurchenko Siblings Backstory.]

Chapter 2: Favouritism

The morning sun streamed through the thin curtains of the Yurchenko house, casting soft beams of light on the worn furniture and faded wallpaper. It was Milo's birthday, a day that should have been filled with celebration and joy. Yet, the air was thick with unspoken tensions that seemed to hover over every corner of their home. Milo, now 14, woke early. The weight of another year pressing down on him. He stretched, his mind already racing with the day's responsibilities. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake his siblings, and made his way to the kitchen, where the familiar sounds of breakfast being prepared greeted him. Freya, their mother, stood at the stove, her back to him. She hummed softly, her attention fully on Anya, who sat in her high chair, babbling and reaching for toys. The love Freya showered on Anya was unmistakable, a stark contrast to the coldness she reserved for her older children.

"Morning," Milo said quietly, hoping to keep the peace.

Freya turned, her eyes barely flickering over him before returning to Anya. "Morning," she replied curtly. "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Milo responded, his voice steady despite the lack of warmth in her tone. "Fourteen today."

Freya's face softened as she looked at Anya, who giggled and clapped her hands. "Happy birthday," she said, but her words were directed more at the baby than at Milo. She returned to her cooking, leaving Milo standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Millie entered the kitchen, her hair tousled from sleep. "Happy birthday, Milo," she said with a yawn, giving him a quick hug.

"Thanks, Millie," Milo replied, managing a small smile. Her support meant everything to him.

Soon, Mike and Maya bounded into the room, their faces lighting up at the sight of Milo. "Happy birthday, Milo!" they exclaimed in unison, their excitement infectious.

Milo's heart warmed at their enthusiasm. Despite the tension with their mother, his siblings' love was unwavering, and it made the day bearable. They all sat down for breakfast, and Freya placed a plate of pancakes in front of each of them. "Eat up," she said briskly. "You've got a big day ahead."

As they ate, Milo couldn't help but notice the way Freya's attention lingered on Anya. She cooed and fussed over the baby, her affection pouring out in ways it never had for her older children. It was a painful reminder of the favouritism that had always existed in their household. After breakfast, the siblings gathered in the living room to give Milo his presents. Millie handed him a small, neatly wrapped package. "I made this for you," she said, her eyes shining with excitement. Milo carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a handmade sketchbook adorned with Millie's intricate drawings. "This is amazing, Millie. Thank you," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. Next, Mike and Maya presented him with a jar filled with colourful origami stars. "Each one has a wish for you," Maya explained, her eyes sparkling. "We made them ourselves!"

Milo smiled, deeply touched by the effort his younger siblings had put into their gift. "I love it," he said, hugging them both. "Thank you." As the day progressed, the siblings decided to hold their own celebration for Milo. They gathered in the backyard, stringing up fairy lights and setting out a small picnic. Millie played her guitar, singing a song she had written just for Milo. Her sweet voice filled the air, creating a moment of peace that seemed to wash away the day's tensions. Mike and Maya chased each other around the yard, their laughter echoing through the evening. Milo sat back, watching his siblings with a contented smile. Despite the challenges they faced, they had each other, and that was what mattered most. They were interrupted by the sound of the back door creaking open. Freya appeared, holding Anya in her arms. She watched them for a moment, her expression unreadable.

"Time for bed soon," she said abruptly, her gaze focused solely on Anya. She turned away, retreating into the house without another word.

Milo sighed, the reality of their situation settling over him once more. But he refused to let it dampen his spirits. Today was his birthday, and he had his family by his side.

"Happy birthday, Milo," Millie said, handing him a cupcake with a single lit candle. "Make a wish."

Milo closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the candle's flame. He made a wish for a future where their family could find happiness and peace, where the shadows of favouritism no longer clouded their lives. Then, with a deep breath, he blew out the candle.

His siblings cheered, pulling him into a group hug. In that moment, surrounded by their love and support, Milo felt a renewed sense of hope. They would face whatever challenges lay ahead together, and they would find a way to thrive despite the odds.