Chapitre 7: Daily life
Alex watched as Michael's face shifted between expressions, amused by his friend's animated demeanor. "How are you, Michael?" he greeted.
"Oh… I'm fine, thanks for asking. Uh, how are you, Mr. Williams?" Michael asked in a softer tone, clearly nervous in the presence of Alex's dad, Oliver, who stood behind Alex.
"We're fine, thank you. Why are you here so early in the morning?" Oliver asked, his expression calm but intimidating. Satisfied with Michael's response, he nodded and returned to the backyard to finish his workout, allowing Alex to continue the conversation as he let Michael in.
"Hey, aren't you the one who kept urging me to look for a rental nearby?" Michael replied, sounding a bit exhausted.
Alex had indeed been searching for a place close by where they could work comfortably, ideally with some sound equipment for recording.
"So, you finally found someone?" Alex asked, intrigued.
"Yeah. It wasn't easy, you know," Michael replied, clearly worn out by his efforts.
Being just sixteen, Michael had faced skepticism from adults who doubted his ability to rent a place without a guardian. But he'd kept at it, even looking for a reasonably priced sound mixer and recording equipment.
"Oh, and my dad said he really liked your book, Jurassic Pack, and he's willing to help you find a publisher if you're interested," Michael added.
Three months prior, Alex had written Jurassic Pack, inspired by a famous book he remembered. He'd asked Michael to pass it along to his dad, who owned a small law firm next to Alex's father's accounting office, hoping he might take an interest.
"Really? Thanks for helping me with that," Alex said, smiling gratefully.
"So, who's the guy willing to rent out the place?" Alex asked.
"You know those condos next to Mark's place?" Michael replied. "Mark mentioned that the owner wants to rent it out for the next three years."
Alex, Michael, and Mark all lived in the same neighborhood, making it easy to walk to each other's houses in just ten to fifteen minutes.
"Three years? Why so long?" Alex asked, settling into his computer chair.
"Apparently, the guy is leaving on a business trip and won't be back for that long," Michael shrugged, sipping the orange juice Alex handed him.
Alex thought it over. Though he didn't plan on staying in Brooklyn forever, a short-term rental nearby would work well for now. "Alright, that'll do for now. So, when's it available?"
"The end of this week, for about $700 a month."
"I see. Anything else?" Alex asked.
Michael seemed a bit disappointed by Alex's calm reaction. "I thought you'd be happier with the news," he said, sounding slightly offended.
Alex inwardly appreciated how things were moving along but knew tougher challenges lay ahead. His ambition to venture into multiple industries meant he'd be up against formidable forces in the future.
Seeing Michael's reaction, Alex broke into a smile, praising his friend for all his hard work. Michael's face lit up with pride, feeling his efforts recognized at last. After a bit more chatting, Alex nudged Michael to head home, knowing his friend's interest in visiting wasn't entirely innocent—he had a crush on Alex's older sister, Ashley.
Before leaving, Michael reminded Alex about his dad's offer to discuss the book, and Alex finally breathed a sigh of relief as he left. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that Michael was still a teenager, not a seasoned adult.
Settling back in the living room, Alex flipped on the TV and landed on MTV, where a hip-hop music video was playing. The lyrics were catchy, though he couldn't help but think how simplistic the rhymes were compared to the deeper, more refined hip-hop that would emerge in the '90s.
Duke came downstairs, drawn by the music. He spotted Alex watching a white rapper who called himself Vanilla Ice and muttered, "Another thing white people are trying to steal from us."
As Duke turned to leave the room, heading towards the kitchen, he didn't realize that Alex had overheard his muttered comment. Alex frowned, understanding the frustration in Duke's words. Thanks to recent changes in his brain, his senses—hearing, smell, vision, and even taste—had all sharpened, making him more aware of his surroundings. His increased neural connections not only boosted his awareness but also doubled his reaction speed, allowing him to move with more skill and precision.
Alex understood why Duke felt that way. Their family, especially his mother, Ashley, and Duke, had experienced various forms of racism throughout their lives. While Alex had encountered it too, his experiences happened when he was too young to fully grasp why people treated him, his mother, and his siblings differently. It wasn't just limited to the white community; even within the Black community, their mixed-race background sometimes made them feel out of place.
This situation troubled Alex, especially as he noticed how his older siblings seemed to occasionally distance themselves from their younger sister Jennifer. They would avoid certain places or act differently around her, particularly when out in public. Much of this behavior stemmed from the disapproval directed at their mother for being in a mixed-race relationship, which caused friction from both sides of the community.
Their parents, fully aware of these dynamics, had always encouraged the siblings to embrace their family bonds without shame. They often reminded them how much easier things were now compared to the past, emphasizing the importance of sticking together as a family.
Shaking off these thoughts, Alex stood up, turned off the TV, and headed to the basement, where he sat down at his new computer. He had bought it two months ago to work on a new project: a digital distribution service for video games, inspired by his memories of Steam.
In Alex's vision, Steam would be an online platform where players could download games, receive automatic updates, and engage in social features like in-game chat and friends messaging. His version would start simple, focused on creating a reliable outlet to distribute their games, but he planned to expand it over time with features like cloud saves, game streaming, and even anti-cheat measures.
For two hours, Alex worked intently, but eventually, he began to feel restless. As much as he enjoyed working on his projects, the repetitive nature of daily coding could be exhausting.
Leaving the basement, Alex saw his entire family gathered in the living room, engaged in lively conversation. The women—his mother, Ashley, and Jennifer—were deep in discussion, while Duke and his father listened, nodding along without saying much.
"Hey, Alex, come join us!" Jennifer called, waving him over.
He walked over and sat on the carpet, joining the circle around the small table. Though each family member had their own challenges to face, Alex felt a sense of comfort and unity as he bonded with them. This time together, filled with lighthearted conversations, was a reminder of the support they all shared despite their personal struggles.
Meanwhile, at Microsoft headquarters, Bill Gates sat in a tense meeting room surrounded by executives and developers, each with a grim expression. He slammed his hand down on the table, demanding, "It's been a month, and none of you have found who sent us that email?"
One of the software developers, dressed casually in an orange t-shirt, responded, "Whoever sent that email is really good at covering their tracks. But honestly, it might not even matter. We'll be able to finish the new Windows system soon."
Gates narrowed his eyes, his frustration still evident. "And when, exactly, will it be completed?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the employee.
"In another three months, we should have it ready. Even though we didn't get much from the email, it gave us enough of a foundation to work from," the employee answered, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and a man in a black suit hurried inside, making his way directly to Gates. Leaning close, he whispered something in Gates' ear. Gates' expression shifted subtly as he listened, then he nodded, excusing himself and walking out of the room without another word, leaving the others to speculate.
Back at Alex's house, the family was seated together in the living room, engrossed in a soccer match on TV. Alex's father, being British, had passed on his love for the game to the entire family, turning these match-watching sessions into a family tradition. Alex's mother, meanwhile, made sure they stayed connected to both sides of their heritage, balancing British customs with elements of her own background.
Tonight, Manchester United was playing against Chelsea, with Manchester United leading 2-1. Alex's dad was a die-hard Manchester United supporter, a passion he'd inherited from Alex's grandmother. When Alex once asked him why he was such a devoted fan, his father replied, "It's all because of your grandmother. She loved United, and I've carried that forward."
As they cheered and commented on each play, the warmth of these moments reminded Alex of how much these family traditions meant to them all.
Alex felt his pulse quicken at the mention of "Apuls." He knew the name held significance, especially after gaining certain memories, but he hadn't shared any of this with his family. He kept his expression neutral, not wanting to raise Ashley's suspicions.
"Let me see it," he said calmly, trying to gauge her reaction.
Ashley nodded, leading him to the computer. She clicked open the email inbox, scrolling to the one labeled "Apuls." It was a simple message, with no sender details, only the name "Apuls" and a short message that read:
"To those who seek, understanding shall follow. The path of knowledge unfolds slowly."
Alex read the cryptic message, trying to make sense of it. It felt both ominous and familiar, almost as if it were meant as a reminder for him. He knew it was somehow connected to the memories and knowledge he'd started receiving, but he wasn't entirely sure how.
"Strange message, huh?" Ashley said, glancing sideways at him.
"Yeah, strange for sure," he replied, forcing a casual smile. "Probably just some kind of spam or a prank."
Ashley laughed and rolled her eyes. "Spammers get more mysterious every year, I guess. I'll delete it then?"
Alex hesitated but quickly decided against leaving any trace. "Actually, leave it. I might look into it later—curious to see if I can trace where it's coming from."
With a shrug, Ashley left him to the computer, moving off to join their parents. Once alone, Alex sat back, rereading the message. The line about "understanding" and a "path of knowledge" rang with an eerie truth about his own experience.
As he pondered the meaning, Alex's mind returned to his grandfather, the secrets his father kept about him, and the strange dynamics in his family history. Perhaps his quest for answers didn't just involve the future; it was rooted in the past, in the untold stories of his own family.
Alex couldn't help but chuckle as he closed the email and headed to the basement. The offer from Microsoft was flattering, but he was set on carving his own path, one where he controlled the direction of his work rather than being another cog in someone else's machine.
In the basement, he powered up his personal computer and brought up his secure communication channels and financial trackers. He wanted to monitor the response from Microsoft closely; if they accepted his terms, it would mean a massive influx of funds to fuel his projects. However, if they resisted, he was prepared to pivot.
As he settled into his chair, Alex considered the potential impact. If Microsoft bit and transferred the funds, it would not only give him more than enough capital to continue working on Blue Star Interactive's projects but also strengthen his confidence that even giants like Microsoft valued what he could create.
"Alright," he muttered, pulling up his planning documents. "One step at a time." He had a long road ahead, but today, it felt like the path was clearing just a little.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone