2026-02-26 12:00:31“Have you seen Amanda?” he asked, breathless. “She went to the restroom ten minutes ago. It’s our turn to present!!”
The girls exchanged looks. One of them, a blonde named Sarah who had always treated Nathan like a stray dog, let out a sharp laugh. “She’s exactly where she belongs, Nathan. Unlike you.”
“What does that even mean? Look, I just want to…”
“It means you should stop acting like you’re in her league,” Sarah cut in, stepping forward. “Did you really think she’d stay with a guy who spends his weekends scrubbing grease off laboratory floors? She’s a fucking Clinton, you knuckle-headed faggot. Her parents expect her to marry a king, not a... whatever the heck you are.”
“We’re partners,” Nathan snapped. “We built this together.”
“She’s a partner, alright,” another girl chimed in. “But she finally realized who has the real power in this school. You and your stupid project is worth less than $200, Nathan. Why would she waste the best night of her life on a project that’s going to get buried by the people who actually own this city?”
“Just fuck off and hide your broke-ass, ugly face in the trash!” yet another added. “You will never amount to anything in life!”
Nathan felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He ignored the girls' laughter and turned back toward the Grand Hall. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Where the heck was Amanda? Where did she go??
As he reached the heavy oak doors of the hall, before he pushed it open, he saw something on the floor.
A small, silver flash drive.
He picked it up. His stomach did a slow, sickening flip. It was the backup drive. The one he had given Amanda "just in case."
He pushed the doors open.
The hall was dark, except for the massive spotlights focused on the center of the stage. The audience was silent, leaning forward in their seats.
Nathan’s eyes went to the stage, and as soon as his brain registered what he saw, his world ended. He died!!
There was Mark Epstein, standing tall, his chest puffed out with a pride he hadn't earned. He was wearing a headset mic, gesturing toward a large, glass cube that had been unveiled on the pedestal.
Nathan’s cube. Nathan’s project.
And standing right beside Mark, her hand resting on his arm, was Amanda. She wasn't crying. She wasn't forced or anything. She was glowing. She held the primary flash drive, the one Nathan thought he had in his hand just minutes ago, ..and was plugging it into the central monitor.
“...and that is why we call it the Epstein-Clinton Singularity,” Mark’s voice echoed through the hall, thick with fake humility. “My partner, Amanda Clinton, and I have spent the last three years in private development, funded by my father’s visionary investments, to bring you the world’s first, completed and fully functioning Quantum Machine!!!”
The ring box slipped from Nathan's fingers. It hit the carpeted floor with a dull, pathetic thud, the silver ring rolling away into the shadows of the back row.
On the giant screen behind them, the equations began to scroll. Nathan’s equations. The ones he had bled for. The ones he had stayed awake for the past seventy-two hours straight to finish while Amanda brought him coffee and told him she loved him.
“As you can see,” Amanda’s voice was steady and clear as she took the mic, “the processing power exceeds anything currently on the market by a factor of ten thousand. This isn't just a project. It’s the future of the human race and my boyfriend, Mark, and I are at the forefront!!”
The crowd went nuts. People were standing up. In the front row, the Proprietor, Mark’s father - was beaming, clapping his hands with the ferocity of a man who knew he had just secured a dynasty.
Nathan took a step forward into the light of the aisle. His vision was blurring at the edges. This was not happening… no…it couldn’t be true. His girlfriend had teamed up with his bully and stolen his life’s work… his project.. His Quantum Machine.
They had stripped his skin off in front of nine hundred plus people
He couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, neither could he believe what his ears were hearing. But as if that were not horrifying enough, he kept on watching as the two joined lips together on stage, Mark grabbed Amanda’s waist, and in front of the world, they…
Kissed!
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Chapter 9: "Who Are You?"
Mrs. Shawn actually took her glasses off. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open, completely caught off guard by the sheer absurdity of the statement."I'm sorry, you say what?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet."Mr. Zain displayed improper conduct in his classroom this morning," Nathan stated, his voice completely level. "He facilitated the bullying of a student, called me horrible names like 'chicken boy,' and completely degraded the integrity of this college. So, I want him fired. Today."Mrs. Shawn stared at him in utter silence for a long moment. Then, a look of deep, condescending anger settled over her features. She slapped her glasses down on the desk."Hold on," she snapped, leaning forward. "Who exactly told you that a janitor has the guts to walk into my office and dictate to me who I should fire? Are you having a mental breakdown, Walters? Because if you are, the campus clinic is in the west wing. Otherwise, you are entirely out of line."She reached for her desk
Chapter 8: "As You Wish!"
The silence in Lecture Hall 402 was so thick you could choke on it.Ninety students stared at Nathan Walters. A few seconds ago, they were howling with laughter, treating him like the punchline to the biggest joke on campus. Now, they were just confused. The kid with the bruised jaw and the cheap, faded t-shirt had just told their professor he was going to be fired.At the front of the room, Mr. Zain blinked. Once. Twice. Then, a harsh, incredulous bark of laughter ripped from his throat."Fired?" Zain asked, his voice cracking slightly with sheer disbelief. He looked around the room, making eye contact with Mark Epstein, as if seeking confirmation that he had just heard correctly. "Did you all hear that? The janitor is going to fire me."Mark leaned back in his chair, a cruel grin spreading across his face. "Careful, Prof! I hear he’s got high-level connections in the poultry industry."The class erupted in laughter again, emboldened by Mark.Zain slammed his hand down on the wooden
Chapter 7: Mr. Zain
The Thursday morning sun was aggressively bright, pouring through the high windows of the Braxton College engineering building. Outside, Boston looked like a postcard. It was crisp, clear, and perfectly indifferent to the fact that Nathan Walters’ life had been set on fire the night before.Inside Lecture Hall 402, however, the atmosphere was toxic.The Computer Architecture Design class was technically in session, but nobody was looking at the smartboard. Mr. Zain, a balding, thirty-something adjunct professor desperate for tenure, was half-heartedly drawing a diagram of a multi-core processor architecture. His voice droned over the microphone, but it was entirely drowned out by the low, relentless hum of ninety students gossiping.The entire campus had only one topic on its mind. Demo Day.Underneath the desks, phone screens were glowing. Group chats were moving so fast the notifications sounded like a swarm of locusts. Memes were already circulating. Someone had taken the blurr
Chapter 6: Who Is Dr. Sage?
Nathan stared at the man standing in front of him. The streetlamp cast long, sharp shadows over Dr. Sage Walters’ face. For the rest of the world, this man was a phantom billionaire, a titan who dictated global markets with a single phone call.For Nathan, he was just Dad."Hello, son," Sage said, his deep voice cutting through the chill of the wind. "That was quite a drama, wasn't it?"Nathan didn't answer right away. He just stood there, his lip bleeding, his cheap jacket stained with melted ice cream and dirt. He felt a sudden, humiliating urge to break down as his father spoke, but he bit the inside of his cheek to stop his jaw from trembling.Sage closed the distance between them. He didn't offer a hug. Instead, he reached out and gripped Nathan by the shoulders, giving him a firm, solid shake. It was a grounding touch, heavy and deliberate."You actually built it," Sage said, looking at Nathan with a rare glint of absolute respect and pride. "I routed the funds, I paid for the s
Chapter 5: "It's Over Between Us!"
The heat in Nathan's chest boiled over.He sprinted across the asphalt. He didn't say a word. He just covered the distance, grabbed Mark by the shoulder of his Italian blazer, and shoved him hard against the side of the car.Mark grunted, his keys clattering to the ground. But Mark was heavier, well-fed, and spent his afternoons in a private boxing gym. Before Nathan could throw a punch, Mark spun around, planted his feet, and drove his fist straight into Nathan's face.The crack of bone on bone echoed in the empty lot.Nathan stumbled back, tasting copper immediately. The inside of his cheek was busted, and his vision swam for a second. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his knuckles."Are you insane, you freak?!" Mark yelled, shaking out his hand. "I'll have you arrested for assault!"Nathan ignored him. He looked straight at Amanda. She had jumped back, clutching her expensive purse to her chest, looking at Nathan with disgust instead of fear."How?
Chapter 4: Jeffery Epstein
The closing of Demo Day was usually a noisy, chaotic mess of students popping cheap champagne and investors handing out business cards. But tonight, the atmosphere inside the Grand Hall was entirely different. People were whispering. The investors from Silicon Valley and Wall Street were hurriedly packing their briefcases, their faces pale and their eyes darting toward the VIP exit.“A Quantum Machine?”“Built by a student at Braxton?”It was completely surreal. The math displayed on the screen was light years ahead of what the government was doing in underground labs. But that wasn't even the biggest shock of the night.Dr. Sage Walters.The man was a ghost. He controlled tech conglomerates, private military contractors, and global shipping lines. He didn't show up to presidential meetings, not to talk of college science fairs. The whispers bounced from row to row as people filtered out. “Why was he here?”“Who did he come for? Last the press checked, he didn't even have a child.”
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