A Thrash becomes tyrant

Public Mockery

I hated this night. Every year, the family held a banquet, all shiny dresses, loud laughter, and fake smiles. And every year, I felt smaller than a bug.

I stepped into the grand hall, trying to act confident. My tie was straight. My shirt was clean. But none of that mattered. I knew what everyone really thought of me.

“Daniel, hurry! Pass the drinks, will you?” my mother-in-law called, waving her hand like I was a servant. Her voice had that sharp edge, the kind that cuts deeper than any knife.

I swallowed. “Yes… right away.” My hands shook slightly as I took the silver tray. I could feel their eyes on me. Not a single friendly one. Just amusement, judgment, and… pity.

I made my way to the table where my wife, Linda, sat. She was laughing at something her friends said.

She had the perfect smile and a perfect hairdo to grace the occasion.

And she looked at me for a second, a small smile twisting her lips. But it wasn’t a nice smile. It was one of those smiles that said, you are nothing.

“Be careful with that, Daniel,” she said softly. “Don’t spill on anyone important.”

Her tone was sweet, but I knew better. It was a warning. She didn’t mean well. She wanted me to fail. And deep down, I hated her for it.

I reached the first table. Cousins, aunts, uncles, all looking at me like I was a clown. I tried to pour wine into a crystal glass. My hand trembled. And of course… the wine tipped over.

“Ah! Careful, Daniel!” someone shouted, laughing.

I froze as the red liquid spilled onto a white dress. My heart stopped. I grabbed a napkin and tried to wipe it. The woman wearing the dress, my wife’s cousin, laughed and waved me off.

“It’s fine, Daniel. You’re just so… clumsy!”

I had expected a slap across the face or probably another abusive words but her words made me even more angry which I careful hide.

Clumsy. That word stung worse than anything else. I nodded quickly, mumbling an apology. My face burned. I wished the floor would swallow me whole.

I stepped back, feeling the weight of their eyes. Linda leaned over and whispered, “Maybe you should leave this to someone who can actually handle it. Don’t make it worse.”

I wanted to yell at her. To tell her she had no right to treat me like this in front of everyone. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I just nodded, tight-lipped, and carried on.

Next, my father-in-law spoke. His voice was loud, booming across the hall.

“Daniel,” he said, turning to me with that sharp gaze, “why don’t you make yourself useful and serve the rest of the guests?”

I froze again.

Serve them? I was supposed to enjoy the banquet, not be their waiter. But what could I say?

Nothing.

I picked up the tray and forced a smile.

As I moved from table to table, I dropped another glass. Small, harmless, but enough for everyone to laugh. My hands were shaking so badly now that I could barely hold anything.

“Careful, Daniel!” someone jeered. “You’ll ruin everything if you keep shaking like that.”

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to scream. Instead, I muttered, “Sorry… I’ll be careful,” and hurried on.

Linda was still watching me. Her smile was there, but her eyes were cold. “See? That’s why everyone says you can’t do anything right. Maybe you should just stay out of the way next time.”

I bit my tongue. I swallowed hard. I could feel anger bubbling up, but it was useless. Here, in front of everyone, I was powerless.

And then it happened. My arrogant cousin, the one everyone adored, leaned over and nudged me.

“Hey, Daniel, can you pass me the wine?” he said, smirking.

I tried to pour carefully. I really did. But my hands were shaking, and the wine tipped again. This time, it splashed on his suit.

Black. Expensive.

“Oh! My suit!” he shouted, throwing his hands up. Everyone laughed. I could hear it.

My face was hot. I mumbled, “I-I’m sorry…”

Linda shook her head, pretending to look disappointed. “Daniel, honestly… this is why you’re lucky we let you stay in this house. Some people would have kicked you out by now.”

The words hit me like a punch. Lucky? Lucky? I wasn’t lucky. I was humiliated. I was trapped.

I wanted to run. Just run out the door and never come back. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had to stay, keep smiling, keep serving. Keep pretending.

I moved to another table, my tray shaking. The guests were whispering, laughing quietly. I heard a snicker from behind me. I turned slightly.

A man, older, dressed in a simple suit, not flashy like the rest of them, was watching me. His eyes were sharp, calculating, different.

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t smirk. He just watched. And I felt… something. A flicker of hope, maybe. Or curiosity.

I didn’t know who he was. He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, watching me like he could see right through me.

The rest of the night blurred. More spills. More insulting words and definitely more jest.

My back ached from bending over, my hands stung from holding the tray too tight. Every smile I forced felt fake. Every word I said felt heavy.

By the end of the banquet, I was exhausted. I stood in the corner, holding the empty tray, trying not to breathe too loudly.

Everyone had gone back to their conversations, still laughing, still whispering. I felt invisible. And yet… painfully visible.

And then I saw him again. The older man. Still watching. His gaze didn’t mock me. It didn’t judge me. It was… assessing.

For a brief moment, I forgot the humiliation, the anger, the shame. I only noticed him.

And then my father-in-law walked past, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Daniel,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “this is why you’re lucky we let you stay in this house.”

The words echoed in my head. Lucky. Lucky! I forced a nod. “Yes… thank you, sir.” My throat burned. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to disappear.

But I didn’t. I stood there, holding the tray, trembling slightly, humiliated beyond words.

And I noticed the older man again. He made a small nod, almost imperceptible. Then he walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

I didn’t know why, but I felt a tiny spark in my chest. Something that said… maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe someone sees me differently.

But for now… I was still Daniel, the useless son-in-law, the joke of the family, the man who could do nothing right.