Well yes. Get out of here Loser. Your time is up. Go join your people on the streets." Christopher heard the taunts behind him as he walked slowly away from the crowd who were staring at him in disgust.This was supposed to be a happy night, but now he had been hit by two blows in one…well, three if you include his dismissal from the school.The music from Emily Rodriguez's birthday party drifted through the Virell Academy grounds Lights wrapped around every tree in the courtyard, catering staff moved through the crowd with silver trays, and the DJ they had flown in from the city had the kind of setup that cost more than most people's yearly rent.Christopher Hayes stood at the edge of it all, watching.He had spent three weeks putting together the small wrapped parcel in his hand. Three weeks of skipped lunches and careful saving, stretching his scholarship stipend down to its last thread. It was not much… well, he knew that.She said she liked simple things.She had said a lot of

Christopher Hayes walked through the gates without looking back.He told himself not to look back.He made it approximately forty steps down the road before he stopped.Then he thought about the people inside the roomThey would talk about it in dormitories tonight and it would be tomorrow's breakfast conversation and by the end of the week it would be the kind of thing people referenced in passing.“Remember that scholarship kid? The thief one?”Chris turned away from the gate.He walked.The streets outside Virell were wide and well-lit. Everything was orderly. Everything in its place.He had nowhere to go except his wretched house that could barely contain him.The thought arrived without drama, which was almost worse than if it had arrived loudly. He had his phone with forty-three per cent battery, his wallet with the remainder of this month's stipend which amounted to roughly sixty dollars, and a folded letter of dismissal pressed against his ribs.And the parcel. Still in his p

Chris hadn't moved from the edge of the bed.The phone was still in his hand, the Binance app still open, the number still sitting there with the same impossible patience it had shown since he'd first found it. He'd been staring at it for the better part of an hour, not scrollingThe phone vibrated in his hand.He startled and looked at the screen.Unknown Number.His first thought was Tyler. Some new humiliation, or one of the group chat's four hundred members who had found his number somewhere and was calling to humiliate him more. He almost let it ring out.He answered."Hello?"There was Silence. Then breathing. Then a sound of someone crying. "James?" Chris called out.There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Chris." The voice was small and young. "Chris, something happened.""Talk to me. What happened? Are you hurt?" Chris asked him"No, I am okay. I am not hurt." Chris could picture him exactly, fifteen years old, sitting somewhere private at St Matthias Junior

The morning light pierced the room slowlyChris lay on the bed fully dressed, shoes still onHis phone was buzzing.He reached for it without fully opening his eyes. He tapped the notification.It was from Binance.He opened his eyes.“MARKET ALERT: BTC has reached a new all-time high. Current price: $255,000.00 per coin. Your portfolio has been updated," the message readHe sat up.He read it again.His brain, still assembling itself from sleep, did the arithmetic slowly and then all at onceLast night: $200,000 per coin. Two million coins. Four hundred billion dollars.This morning: $255,000 per coin. Two million coins.He opened the app.Total Portfolio Value: $510,000,000,000.00Five hundred and ten billion dollars.He had made one hundred and ten billion dollars overnight. Without doing anything. Without moving a single coin, making a single decision, lifting a single finger.He sat on the edge of the bed in the morning light and stared at the number on the screen.He set the pho

Three days inThe iron gate of Virell Academy looked exactly the same as it had three nights ago when he was leavingChris had walked through with nothing in his hands but a backpack and a letter of dismissal. He stood outside for a few seconds with a grin on his faceHe took a deep breath and murmured.“CHRIS IS BACK VIRELL, Y’ALL SHOULD WATCH OUT."He then started walking again through the gates and into the school.He was wearing the new uniformHe had gotten a haircut two days ago, a clean fade that a barber three streets from his old apartment He and James had moved into a two-bedroom that week, paid for in cashNo one stopped him.That fact alone sat strangely in his chest. Three nights ago this gate had been the wall between him and everything. This morning it opened for him like it always should have.He crossed the courtyardThe birthday lights were gone now. Ordinary morning light fell across ordinary stone, students moving toward their first classes in twos and threes.Hea