Bambam's POV

My name is Kunpimook Bhuwakui and today is my 16th birthday. My mother works as a housekeeper at the Wang's, in Hong Kong. The Wang are a rich family in which the wife was my mother's penpal when she still lived in Thailand. And when we flee the country, we had financial problems, but thanks to Mrs Wang, my mother could find a job, a place to live in the enormous residence of the Wang and they even pay me a private school! But when you live in a rich people's universe without being one, you can feel a bit excluded…

"Bambam! what are you waiting for? Go get the boys some tea!"

"Yes, mom."

Even if it's my birthday, I have to help my mother take care of the house, and Jackson invited his best friend—who is also rich—over, so, as usual, I bring them something to drink.

Jackson and I have spend our childhood together, and, when we were little, my mother says we were like brothers. But because the time went by and he had to slowly become just like any other boy in his rich people's entourage, he had to stop seeing me as his equal. In front of the others, it's as if he didn't know me; but he still talks to me, when no one is looking. I don't blame him… Well, yeah, a little! What a snob. But he remains my friend—and I don't have enough to afford ignoring him.

When I arrive on the terrasse where the two friends are chatting (about rich people's stuff, I guess), a tray full of cookies and with two cups of tea on it, Jackson doesn't even look at me. Mark—his best friend's name—though, he always looked at me as if I was an alien and it makes me very uncomfortable. Whatever, it's not my job to be made uncomfortable! So I put the tray down politely and go back, hearing them start talking again. 

«Jackson», « Mark», such pretentious names! Having an American name sure does show they are privilegied, unlike us, the people. At least, that's what I've always told myself, with a bit of jealousy. Speaking of, I wonder if Mrs and Mr Wang have them too. I never knew, because I've just always called them Mrs and Mr Wang, and that's what my mother always forced me to do.

Once I'm back in the kitchen, where she was cooking tonight's dinner, my mother turns to me for two minutes with a tendre smile. She's going to tell me how much I've grown up, I'm sure.

"You'vre grown up so much, my son. I feel like I held you in my arms yesterday," she says while brushing my cheek.

"I know, you told me that three times today!" I answer after a sigh.

She chuckles and kisses my forehead before going back to the kitchen. Tonight, the family is holding a little dinner with Mark and his parents.

Besides from my mother of course, no one remembered my birthday; this phenomenon occurs more and more these past few years. The first time, a nice little party was organised, according to my mother. Of course, I don't remember, since I was a baby then. Today, I'm over organising parties. The last one was for my 14th birthday. Jackson had given me a way too big sweatshirt, but it was an onerous and prestigious brand. That's why I sleep in it a lot.

The evening is coming and I already hear the door—I mean, the gigantic portal—ring, announcing the guests are there. As I walk in the hall, i accidentally bump into Mrs Wang.

"I'm sorry Mrs Wang," I apologize.

"It's nothing, Bambam! Oh! and before I go, happy birthday. You grew up so much," she tells me while patting my head.

"Thank you Mrs Wang," I shyly answer.

I have to admit our relationship with the Wang family is pretty strange. Our mothers were friends, but ever since mine is in the lower class, it's like it's forbdden to treat us as friends. We aren't invited to sophisticated dinners. Our friendship is almost… taboo. Maybe that's why Mrs Wang disappeared while looking around, as if she didn't want to be seen with me—but maybe I'm making up things.

I enter the dinning room and I go help where I can. During my terrible chore, the door through which were going and coming all sorts of house employees is used by someone who's not supposed to be there. I look up and see the familiar face of the family's son.

"Kun!" he calls me, "come here!"

But my mother sees me and asks me to go prepare the table. The employees that the Wang hire whenever there's an event are already preparing the room and because helping makes a bit of money, I don't hesitate to do it too. Though, Jackson doesn't seem to care and takes my wrist to a quiet hall, looking around too, not to be seen with me probably. 

"Happy birthday, Kun!" he wishes me with a smile.

He then smacks a package on my chest. A gift? Jackson surprises me, I thought we weren't that close anymore. But I am flattered. I hope it isn't a watch or a perfume…

"Don't open it now!" he precises, seeing I was going to.

"Okay… Thank you for thinking about me, Jackson," I answer.

"What? it's normal, Kun! I know I'm a bit distant thse days, but…"

He sighs and looks down.

"I'm sorry."

I smile. Oh, now he realises he was blinded by all those rich people around him. We'll see how long he'll be sorry for, before he becomes just like them.

"It's alright," I say with a soft voice, "I understand."

I feel a heavy look on my back and turn around when I hear a strong throat clearing.

"Young men, you have nothing to do here!" tells us a woman who seems to have been hired by the family. "Go!"

"See you," says Jackson casually.

He totally changed his attitude in front of the lady. Of course! The rich boy wants to keep his snob status. Well, I have to admit I'm a bit rude—but only in my head. I too have a different behaviour in front of people, I'm way more shy. The exact opposite of Jackson.

Later in the evening, Mark's family is there and the dinner is successful. I hear vivid conversations and sometimes laughs from our little housing. I have my own room, with a door which leads to the living room and my mother has hers. There's a little open kitchen in there, small but friendly. It's not that spacious but I like it! 

Mom has been with a friend, Yeter, for a bit of time now… I'm sure they're doing something secret in the kitchen, because they forbid me to go there; of course, I know what it is.

Jackson's POV

I greet Mark's parents, people from the upper class of course. They get along well with my own parents. That's how Mark and I met, we're friends since our childhood. Anyway, it's not the subject; we are holding a dinner tonight—in a few minutes, actually, I should already be there—and I find it quite displaced of my parents, the day of Kun's birthday. I mean come on! He may not be rich, nor family, but it feels like he is. So I gave him a little something, even if it doesn't justify the rudeness. Ah… I feel bad going to that dinner. 

I am in my room, and I have to wear this damn suit. I don't like very much, even though I do look quite seducing in it. It feels weird walking in that… uniform. I'm not a fast food employee! Damn it.

"Well, well, well… It suits you," says the familiar voice of Mark coming out of nowhere.

I am so surprised I jump and let out a high pitched scream. Crap.

"Damn it Mark! What the hell are you doing in my room?" I yell as I see him in the mirror.

I turn around to face him (he's on the doorstep, leaning on the side) and he immediatlely straightens with an awkward look. 

"Um, sorry, I don't know why I—anyway, I'll see you later!" he apologizes.

"Mark, stay. Since you're already here, how do I look?"

I spin around gracefully. I have to admit I'm a handsome man. Mark is probably flustered, because he blushes a bit.

"As I said… It suits you very well…" he says, avoiding my look.

"Yeah. Don't be embarrassed! I know I'm hot but…"

Sensing a bit of awkwardness, I change the subject.

"Anyway, let's go, okay?"

He nods and follows me in the big dining room. As planned, our mothers are having a conversation (probably about us) and when they see us, they rush to us to tell us how much your son has grown up, my God! Yes, I know. But I like to hear Mark's mom complimenting me. 

"It's been such a long time we hadn't done this!" she says.

"Yes, almost a week!" answers my mother with a well hidden sarcasm.

Rich laughs follow. Ah, the upper class' world; everything is so fake, but I feel comfortable in it. After all, I'm often in the centre of attention and all I have to do is to wear a fancy suit and make some sophisticated jokes from time to time.

The dinner is served little by little. What I don't like is all these steps just to eat. I mean, come one, we all know why we're here: the dessert.

"So Jackson," I hear Mark's father say, "how's school?"

"Oh! well…"

My mother looks at me menacingly. 

"Good!" I finally answer. "I am quite good at, um, science, you know."

"Oh yes? Excellent. Our Mark here isn't really good at science," he continues, not even looking at us. "Or anything else, really."

Did he just insult my best friend? If only he wasn't his father…

"Okay?" whispers Mark, looking down.

His mother notices the general awkwardness and decides to save us all from an embarrassing silence.

"You know what? It's Viviane's daughter's wedding next week. Are you going?"

"Oh! of course!" exclaims my mother. "We've been invited. My Jackson doesn't want to go, but it's not like he had a choice!"

Indeed… My mother always wants to go to all the parties, even if we hardly know the hosts. It's extremely awkward, because I have to interact with "good families' kids, just like you" and I don't have time for those snobs.

"Come on, you can't miss this!" says Mrs Tuan. "We'll go together, you'll see; Viviane's parties are won-der-ful!"

I don't doubt it.

Bambam's POV

"…daaay tooo youuuu!" sing two women.

They unfold my eyes and I see a richely decorated cake with sixteen candles on it in front of me. I knew it! But it doesn't stop me from being very touched.

"Wow!" I react. "I didn't expect that, thank you so much!"

"Blow the candles!"

I smile and think about my wish. I don't need anything particular… But for my future, I'd like to be able to give my mom everything she deserves. So… success? Money? Yes, that seems good. I blow the candles while wishing all that. They clap.

"My son! 16 years old!"

"You don't see them growing up!"

I like this kind of quiet party, far away from the refined athmosphere of one of the Wang's dinner.