Chapter 11: Midnight Planning
After Mom went to bed, I spread the warehouse blueprints across my bedroom floor. In the soft glow of my desk lamp, I mapped out the future. Studio A would go here, where the acoustics would be perfect once we reinforced the walls. The west wing would house our tech development labs – though for now, that space would be "storage." Had to keep some secrets.
My phone buzzed. Derek: "Still can't believe what you pulled off today. Sony deal? For real?"
I texted back: "Come by tomorrow. Got plans to discuss."
In my original timeline, Derek's path had diverged here. He'd fallen in with the wrong crowd, let his talent waste away until that Grammy-winning comeback in 2018. But his musical intuition had always been years ahead of his time. With the right guidance, he could help shape the sound of the next decade.
I pulled up the warehouse financials on my Gateway. The building's owner was three months from foreclosure – exactly as I remembered. In my first timeline, some real estate developer had snatched it up. This time, I had the advantage of knowing its true value.
Rico's cousin at the bank – future board member of our global corporation – would see the potential. The numbers worked, especially with the Sony advance as collateral. But we'd need more than just studio space. We'd need a hub, a creative incubator that would attract the right talent.
My phone lit up again. This time it was Rico: "Yo, my cousin wants to meet tomorrow. Says your business plan got him thinking."
Perfect. Everything was aligning, though faster than before. I'd have to be careful – success that came too easily might raise questions. Had to let some deals fall through, make some carefully calculated mistakes to maintain the illusion of normal teenage trial and error.
I opened my notebook to a fresh page, started mapping out the next phase. The studio would be our foundation, but the real revolution would come from the technology we'd develop there. Neural audio processing, quantum harmonics – all of it starting as "experimental production techniques" that would gradually evolve into industry-changing innovations.
Mom's voice drifted from the hallway. "Marcus? It's past midnight."
"Just finishing up some plans, Ma!" I called back, quickly hiding the more advanced technical sketches. She was on board with the business side, but trying to explain quantum audio engineering to anyone in 2002 would be pushing it.
As I got ready for bed, I caught my reflection again. Seventeen-year-old face, fifty-year-old mind, both focused on the same goal. Building an empire was hard enough the first time. Rebuilding it while maintaining the pretense of normal teenage development? That would be an art all its own.
But watching Mom pore over those contracts today, seeing that executive spark ignite years earlier than before – it was worth the complexity. This time around, we'd build something even greater. An empire founded not just on innovation, but on family.
Tomorrow would bring the bank meeting, Derek's mentorship, and the first steps toward securing the warehouse. Each move carefully calculated, each success measured to seem possible rather than predestined.
I set my alarm, knowing sleep wouldn't come easily. Too many plans, too many possibilities spinning through my mind. But that was okay. I had thirty years of experience packed into this teenage brain.
Time to use it wisely.
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