When my sister sent out her wedding invitations, she didn’t just include an RSVP card. She included a price list. Apparently, attending her “luxury celebration” required buying packages like it was a concert.
I’ve always had a complicated relationship with my younger sister, Emily. She’s 25 now and has always been my parents’ favorite. If there was ever a competition for attention growing up, I didn’t even need to enter.
Emily always won by default. She was the “pretty one,” the “fun one,” the “baby of the family.” Meanwhile, I was the responsible one, the one who studied, worked hard, and didn’t cause trouble. Our parents adored her, and they expected me to adore her too.
And for the most part, I did. Until I realized admiration wasn’t enough. Emily expected sponsorship.
See, I have a well-paying corporate job now. I’ve worked my way up, and for the first time in my life, I don’t have to check my bank account before buying groceries. But to Emily, that meant one thing: I was her personal ATM.
She started small.
“Hey, can I borrow a couple hundred for a dress? I’ll pay you back next week.”
Then it became, “You make more than I do, sis. It’s not a big deal.”
Eventually, she stopped pretending to repay me at all.
And every time I tried to draw a line, my parents would say, “She’s your sister, Olivia. You can afford to help.”
When she got engaged, I knew something absurd was coming. I just didn’t know how absurd.
Two weeks ago, her wedding invitation arrived. It was gorgeous, I’ll admit. But tucked neatly behind the elegant invite was a second sheet.
I assumed it was a registry list. Oh, how wrong I was. It was a price list.
A full-on, color-coded spreadsheet with tiers, emojis, and “premium options.”
I blinked, thinking it had to be a joke.
But nope. The note at the bottom read:
“All guests must select a participation tier to help support our dream wedding.”
And under that, her “tiers”:
$100: Sister’s Selfie with the couple 📸
$200: Seat in the front row 💐
$250: Dinner with the couple after the reception 🍽️
$500: Name engraved on the guestbook table 🖋️
$1,000: Honorary bridesmaid sash 👗
$2,500: Right to toss the bouquet 🌸
$5,000: Sponsor a champagne toast — with your name announced 🥂
I swear I reread it three times just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. My sister had turned her wedding into a subscription service.
I called her immediately.
“Emily, please tell me this is a joke.”
She laughed. “Oh, come on, Liv! Don’t be so uptight.
You’re thinking small. You have to vibe prosperity. This is about abundance and love in its highest frequency.”
“Emily,” I said flatly, “this isn’t abundance. It’s extortion.”
She gasped.
“Wow. I didn’t expect negativity from my own sister.”
After I hung up, I immediately called my parents. “Dad,” I said, “Emily sent out a menu of charges for her wedding.
She’s asking people to pay hundreds of dollars for things like front-row seats and selfies. You can’t possibly think this is okay.”
There was a pause, then my father sighed. “Sweetheart, it only happens once.
She’s under a lot of pressure. Just pay it. It’ll make her happy.”
“Make her happy?
She’s turning her wedding into a GoFundMe campaign!”
My mom chimed in gently, “Olivia, don’t be dramatic. It’s Emily’s special day. You’ll regret it if you don’t support her.”
That was the moment I realized I was on my own.
My parents had chosen their side. At first, I planned to skip the wedding altogether. But then, a delicious little spark of mischief lit up in my brain.
Why give her the satisfaction of thinking she’d “taught me a lesson about abundance,” when I could turn her greed into the night’s main entertainment? So, I RSVP’d yes. When Emily texted me, ecstatic, saying, “I knew I could count on you, sis!
Can’t wait to see which tier you picked!” I replied, “Don’t worry. I’ll bring an envelope of cash to cover my packages.”
I spent the next few days crafting my masterpiece. An envelope stuffed to the brim with one hundred $1 bills.
Crisp, clean, and counted. I even labeled it “Payment for Sister’s Selfie Package.”
Then I told my coworker and friend, Tina, what I planned. She burst out laughing.
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope,” I said, sipping my coffee. “If she wants to treat her guests like customers, I’ll act like one. Customers pay in cash, and they get receipts.”
Tina grinned.
“You have to let me come. I’ll be your plus-one and moral support. And I’m recording everything.”
I couldn’t say no.
The big day arrived. On the surface, it looked like a fairy tale. But something felt off.
The guests weren’t exactly glowing with joy. People whispered, exchanged awkward looks, and some even avoided the gift table altogether. I didn’t have to ask why.
Turns out everyone had received a similar price list, each with slightly different “packages.” It was like attending a wedding and being asked to upgrade to business class. The gift table was a spectacle with piles of fancy boxes, gift bags, and envelopes. Emily stood there like a queen collecting tributes.
“Oh my gosh, sis!” she said excitedly as I stepped up. “You came through! My favorite big sister!”
“Of course,” I said, setting the thick envelope on the table.
“Let me just… count it out.”
She blinked. “Count it out?”
“Yes,” I said cheerfully, pulling out the stack of ones. “I want to make sure you get every dollar of your Sister’s Selfie Package.”
And then I began.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
