Sometimes I hate my birthday. It can be very borning. Like my father love giving me work. Who does that?
I was in the middle of a stupid budget report when Father poke his head inside to see I'm doing my work.
He walk inside and stand in front of my desk.
"Maxon. We going to have new Fives staying with us and going to perform at your party this evening."
Really? He have to bring more people in the lower castes. What is wrong with my dad?
I just nodded my head not giving him a answer. He gave me a glare and left. Leaving me with my thoughts.