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Surviving My Father’s KPIs Novel Cover

Surviving My Father’s KPIs

In this modern young adult story, a senior HR executive treats his child like a corporate subordinate, using KPIs to dictate every life milestone. After fighting for an Ivy League acceptance, the protagonist is forced into a performance-based allowance system where illness results in docked pay. To endure his father's cold inspections and frozen funds, they are pushed to extremes. Despite achieving an S+ rating, the ultimate betrayal occurs when their hard-earned rewards are given to their brother.
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Chapter 4

As finals approached, I basically lived in the library.

When grades came out, my GPA was 4.2, ranked first in my major.

I received a 4,000-dollar national merit scholarship, plus 1,500 from the school for making the Dean's List.

I took photos of the certificates and sent them to my father right away, adding just one line:

[S+ performance achieved. Please fulfill the agreement.]

He didn't reply.

So I went home in person, transcript and certificates in hand, ready to talk about "fulfilling the agreement."

The moment I pushed the door open, the house was buzzing.

Aunt Cecelia was there too, the same one who had exposed my part-time jobs. The coffee table was stacked with gift boxes.

Harry sat in the middle, clutching the latest top-of-the-line iPhone, completely absorbed in a game.

"Well, look who's back. Our little genius," Aunt Cecelia said while munching on trail mix, her tone dripping with mockery. "Heard you did pretty well this time. Got a scholarship, huh? Shouldn't you treat Harry to a nice steak dinner?"

My father sat at the head of the room, glowing under the praise.

"It's nothing special. Just first in the major," he said lightly, though the pride in his eyes was obvious.

"Dad." I ignored everything else and placed copies of my certificates on the table. "According to the contract, national merit scholarship plus top GPA equals S+ performance. The 5,000-dollar bonus you promised, plus the 10,000-dollar national scholarship bonus. Total of 15,000 dollars. Please pay up."

The room fell silent. The three of them exchanged looks.

Harry glanced up at me and let out a laugh.

"You're seriously obsessed with money."

The smile on my father's face stiffened. He set down his coffee cup and slowly adjusted his collar.

"Walter, since everyone's here, let's treat this as a year-end review meeting."

He pulled out an Excel sheet and cast it onto the TV.

"This is your cost-benefit analysis for the year. Your performance is decent, but…"

He paused, then shifted his tone.

"You know the company's current strategic focus is on Harry. Harry showed significant improvement this term. He moved from fifth from the bottom to tenth from the bottom. To reward this breakthrough, the board has decided to increase investment."

He pointed at the phone in Harry's hand.

"This phone cost two thousand dollars. And his one-on-one tutoring program cost twelve thousand. That makes 14 grand total. Round it up, and it's basically 15."

He looked at me like it was perfectly justified.

"The source of these funds is your performance bonus."

My whole body shook. "Why? I earned that!"

"Because I'm the investor!" He slammed his hand on the table. "Without the base salary I've been providing every month, would you have been able to focus on school? Everything you produce belongs to the company."

Aunt Cecelia chimed in right away. "Exactly, Walter! Harry's still young. What's wrong with spending a little more on him?"

Harry smirked, waving his phone.

"Come on. A deal's a deal. Besides, your money is family money, right? What's the big deal if I use it? Don't be so cheap."

They went back and forth, feeding off each other. Looking at their smug faces made me sick.

My father looked at me like I was the one being unreasonable, then pulled out an envelope and tossed it at my feet.

"Here's 100 bucks. Think of it as an Outstanding Employee Consolation Prize. You need to learn to see the bigger picture. Don't fixate on petty amounts like this."

I stared at the money and at his expression, like he was doing me a favor, and suddenly felt like the house was colder than anything outside.

"Mr. Baker." I picked up the envelope and tore it to pieces right in front of them. "I don't want your consolation prize. And since you love talking about contracts so much…"

I pulled a document out of my backpack, one I had prepared in advance.

"This is a Notice of Termination. I'm done."

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