Chapter 48 – Blueprints and Balance
The first Monday of October rolled in with the kind of clarity that only comes after a storm—both literal and metaphorical.
Jake stood in the main hallway of FaceWorld's new Los Angeles headquarters, watching workers install the final glass panel near the executive wing. The space still smelled of fresh paint and new carpet, but the energy in the building was electric. His empire, which began as code running off his uncle's ancient desktop, was now housed in a modern five-story tower overlooking the city.
And today, his first major hire was arriving.
Callum Price, officially COO.
Jake checked his FacePhone. 8:57 AM. Callum was due in three minutes.
He didn't have to wait long. The elevator doors opened exactly at nine, and Callum stepped out wearing a charcoal blazer over a gray Henley, no tie. Practical. Efficient. Confident.
> "Morning, boss," Callum said with a smirk.
Jake grinned.
> "You're the first person to call me that and actually mean it."
They shook hands and walked together toward the boardroom.
Inside, a small welcome team waited—key engineers, marketing leads, Jake's legal counsel, and a few department heads from YouTube and SoundStack. It wasn't a full company meeting, but it felt like a statement: they were scaling up, and fast.
Jake took his seat at the head of the table.
> "Alright," he began, "let's get to work."
Callum didn't waste time with small talk. After brief introductions, he stepped up to the whiteboard, grabbed a marker, and drew three interlocking circles.
> "Operations. Scale. Distribution," he said. "These are our top three bottlenecks. I've reviewed the backend architecture and supplier spreadsheets, and I can tell you right now—without a production ramp plan in the next sixty days, FacePhone's global rollout will hit a wall."
The room went still. Not from panic, but from surprise.
Jake leaned forward, intrigued.
Callum clicked a button on the projector and brought up a slide showing supply chain weak points, color-coded by region.
Jake nodded slowly.
"You noticed the bottleneck."
Callum smirked.
"And the Eastern Europe logistics lag."
For the first time in weeks, Jake felt a strange sensation.
Relief.
Someone else saw what he saw. Someone else had already connected the dots—and didn't need Jake to walk them through it.
"I like you," Jake said simply.
By the time the meeting ended, Callum had won over most of the team. Not because he was warm—he wasn't—but because he got results. Fast.
Jake left the boardroom energized. Delegating wasn't easy, but it didn't feel like letting go.
It felt like leveling up.
That afternoon, Jake walked through Caltech's physics wing and ducked into Sheldon Cooper's office. Sheldon was mid-rant about string theory being misrepresented in a guest lecture, but he paused when he saw Jake.
"Ah. The prodigy returns."
Jake smirked.
"Busy solving the mysteries of the universe?"
"No, just lamenting how few people are capable of following them."
Jake dropped his backpack on the chair and pulled out a printout.
"I've been thinking about something long-term. What if I… accelerated my academic track?"
Sheldon tilted his head.
"You already are."
"I mean all the way. Test out of undergrad. Blow through the grad requirements. Publish, defend, and earn a doctorate."
Sheldon looked at him for a long moment.
"Ambitious. And not unreasonable. But what's your angle?"
Jake shrugged.
"Legacy. Leverage. Maybe I just want to prove it wasn't a fluke."
Sheldon stood and paced for a moment, then nodded.
"You'd need a faculty sponsor. Someone who could vouch for your aptitude and oversee your research."
"You volunteering?"
"I'll consider it," Sheldon said with a smile. "But only if your dissertation doesn't involve social media."
Jake laughed.
"Deal."
They spent the next hour sketching out potential topics—quantum systems, AI modeling, and communication networks—all while tossing around equations that would make most PhDs sweat.
Jake walked out of the office more certain than ever.
He wasn't just going to build an empire.
He was going to earn his place in it.
Later that night, Jake lay on his bed staring at the ceiling of his room in Brentwood. His FacePhone buzzed beside him.
Haley:
"u up?"
He smirked and replied:
"always."
A few seconds later, his screen lit up again. This time, it was a call.
He answered, voice low.
"Hey."
Haley's voice was soft.
"I miss you."
Jake felt the knot in his chest tighten.
"I miss you too."
They talked for almost twenty minutes—nothing world-shattering, just stuff. School. Her annoying little brother. A new outfit she saw at the mall. The way her mom was being even more intense than usual.
Then came the pause.
"Jake…" she said finally. "You ever feel like the more amazing you become, the more people try to control what you do with it?"
Jake was quiet for a moment.
"All the time."
"I just… I don't want to be your PR problem," she admitted. "My mom thinks you're too grown-up. Too...everything. She doesn't get that I actually like talking to you."
Jake sat up, heart pounding.
"You're not a problem, Haley. You're the reason I smile when everything else is on fire."
There was a beat of silence on the other end. Then a soft exhale.
"Don't make me cry, Harper."
Jake laughed.
"Too late."
They stayed on the line in silence for a while, neither wanting to hang up.
But as the screen dimmed and the battery dipped toward red, Jake finally whispered,
"Goodnight."
"Night, genius."
Jake placed the phone down and closed his eyes.