One day later.

They spent four hours at the Corner Cafe.

Maya bought the domain.

And declared NextBlock must have a Manifesto.

5 days later.

Sean finished the first draft. They shared it with their friends. Crickets.

3 days later.

She called it the C-Suite. Context-Suite. She made it for him.

Every decision documented. Every principle recorded. Fed to an AI that learned how they thought.

Maya told Sean it would make them two people with the output of twenty.

3 nights later.

Sean used up all their credits.

He brought over AI apology sushi and ice cream. Presented it with both hands, like a peace offering.

Then he presented a 30 slide proposal for NextBlock. Pivot from a social app. The most strategic approach for risk management would be to first prove the business model.

Maya begged him to never say “strategic approach for risk management” again.

And she agreed.

4 days later.

“Billboard!” Maya texted Sean. “It’s like a digital billboard.”

“Yes.” Sean immediately responded. “Like the people’s billboard.”

“YES” Maya responded.

“The internet’s billboard.” Sean typed. “Come discover the real internet.”

Maya responded with a fire emoji. “Let’s whiteboard it. Come over?”

Sean grabbed his keys.

2 hours later

They were standing too close. Maya stepped back.

Sean watched her. Didn’t move. Didn’t follow. Just watched.

3 days later.

Sean incorporated in Texas.

He told Maya it was for “regulatory flexibility.”

She told him that sounded like something a finance bro would say.

He didn’t disagree.

2 days later.

He took a personal day.

To miss the ServiceNow contract kickoff meeting they’d make him lead.

He played in C-Suite. Planned the corporate structure. Called Maya.

He opened a legacy bank account for the company at Mercury.

1 week later.

Sean opened a Bitcoin account for the company at Strike.

2 weeks later

“We’re really doing this,” Maya said.

“We’re a Bitcoin company. No VC money. No token. Just Bitcoin.” Sean confirmed.

Maya transferred 1 Bitcoin. Sean transferred 1 Bitcoin. NextBlock locked 1.5 BTC in cold storage. Unchained. Multisig. Sean had read every horror story about exchange hacks.

Then they hired the Peak Shift design team.

Paid them in Bitcoin. Both leaned over Sean’s phone, watching the Lightning payment confirm. High-fived when it went through.

1 night later

Maya and her friends were bar hopping in Dupont for Leyla’s birthday.

They ran into Sean and his friends at their 3rd stop, Cafe Citron.

4 mins later

Nima bought a round of tequila shots.

17 mins later

Salma bought the second round of tequila shots.

43 minutes later

Maya and Sean were dancing next to each other, but not together.

They were all in a sea of salsa dancing on Citron’s main level.

Nima and Ken convinced Leyla to take one more shot. They pulled everyone back to the bar.

Only Maya and Sean declined. They kept dancing.

38 seconds later

“Remember to keep your hands to yourself?” Sean teased.

Maya held her hands up innocently.

She then slowly danced backwards, pulling him closer to a wall.

Away from the dance floor. Further away from the bar.

2 minutes later

Their shoes kept gently tapping each other’s. Their arms and hands brushing against each other with each sway.

“I LOVE THIS SONG,” Maya shouted into Sean’s ear. “IT’S BEFORE YOUR TIME.”

“I’M OLDER THAN YOU,” Sean shouted back.

12 seconds later

They were dancing closer.

People were bumping into them. Bumping them together.

Sean grabbed her hand to move her away from the crowd.

48 seconds later

Salma rushed up. ‘Nia is puking.’ She pointed toward the bathroom. Turned to Sean. ‘So is your boy Ken.’ She pointed toward the alley.

28 mins later

“Home safe?” Sean texted.

“Home safe.” Maya responded.

2 days later

NextBlock hired the web developers team Stud House. Invoice paid in Bitcoin.

4 days later

Maya was trapped on call all weekend. She missed Bitcoin Saturday at the Corner Cafe.

Monday morning, she quit. Announced it was her last day in the morning team huddle. Camera stayed off.

6 hours later

Maya laughed for the first time that day looking at Sean in her doorway.

“He was holding bags and bags of takeout. Thai, Indian, and Mexican. “Didn’t know what you were in the mood for.” He smiled. “So I got everything.”

They got high and watched Silicon Valley. Salma joined.

1 week later.

“We need a metaphor,” Maya said. “To explain this is a digital space where you always control access to your attention.”

Sean grabbed Maya’s Little Hodler plushie off her couch. Threw it back and forth between his hands while he leaned back. “It could be a city.”

“Like a city government?” Maya smirked.

Sean shook his head. “Like going to a corner. Checking out different neighborhoods. How every few blocks can feel like a different experience in DC.”

47 minutes later

“The Billboard experience is the economic engine. It brings money into the city.” Maya was pacing. Squeezing her plushie between her crossed arms.

“Instead of taxing our citizens, we give them a way to earn money.” Sean was watching her pace.

“Money they can spend when they spend time in the city. A.K.A. on the internet.” Maya pointed her index finger in the sky.

Sean caught her eye. Smiled. She kept going.

2 hours later

“And the manifesto is our declaration of independence!”

“YES.”

High-five. Her hand stayed a beat too long.

23 minutes later

“Maya. This is a public good. Like… good for everyone.” Sean was now the one pacing. “The Attention Marketplace is mutually beneficial for buyers and sellers of attention.”

“It is also open and transparent. The data cannot be manipulated.” Maya watched him from the couch.

“Exactly. Corporations could never fake metrics the way central platforms do now.”

2 minutes later

“And there is no data surveillance in our model.” Sean accidentally shouted from her kitchen. He was making them tea.

“This lie that they need our data to show us the best ads.” Maya looked up. Waited for him to come back. “We will prove we don’t need to steal data to show ads to people who want to see them.”

He handed her a mug. Fingers brushed.

3 hours later

The NextBlock roadmap was finalized.

2 nights later

They were at Maya’s. Salma wasn’t home. The apartment was quiet.

Sean leaned in to point at something on her screen. His shoulder pressed against hers. Neither moved.

“This animation,” he said. Voice low. “For zapping.”

“I like the ripple effect.” She could smell his cologne.

“It’s gentle to lessen the dopamine hit.” Sean turned to smile at Maya. “Just as you requested.”

His eyes met hers.

He didn’t pull back.

She didn’t either.

The animation kept going on a loop. Neither of them was looking at the screen anymore.

Maya cleared her throat. “We should—”

“Yeah.” He pulled back. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I should go.”

He did.

3 days later

The sun had been out for hours and so had they.

Maya was standing in the middle of H Street while go-go music rattled the speakers three blocks away. Nia had disappeared into a vendor tent. Leyla was taking photos of everything. Salma was somewhere nearby, probably.

“MAYA!”

She turned. Sean was pushing through the crowd with Nima and Ken, all three holding beers, all three sunburned.

“No way!” Maya shouted over the music.

“Are you by yourself?” Sean shouted back.

“The girls are around here somewhere.” She waved vaguely.

Sean reached her. Close. Sunscreen and beer. His cheeks were pink from the heat.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hi.”

“You look—”

“Hot?” Maya pulled her hair up and tied it back with a clip. “Yes. It’s ninety degrees.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?”

He opened his mouth—

“MAYA!” Ken arrived with open arms and scooped her into a hug. “Happy H Street Festival!”

She laughed, hugging him back. “Happy H Street Festival!”

Over Ken’s shoulder, she saw Sean’s expression. Whatever he was going to say, it was gone now.

Nima hung back, nodding once in her direction. Still deciding about her, apparently.

Sean looked past the group and laughed. “Found them.”

Across the street, Leyla, Salma, and some guy were doing what looked like a poorly choreographed dance. Nia was filming it like a proud stage mom.

“Bravo!” Sean called out as they all walked up to them, clapping. Ken joined in, loud and enthusiastic. Nima managed a golf clap. Slow. Sarcastic. Maya braced herself.

Leyla spun around, surprised. “Shayan! You’re here!” She locked eyes with Maya. Searching.

Maya kept her face neutral. Gave her nothing.

Leyla hugged Sean, whispering something that made him laugh. Ken hugged everyone who would let him. Nima stood slightly apart, arms crossed, watching.

Salma was standing next to the stranger. Standing close. Maya noticed she’d redone her lipstick.

“This is Gabriel.” Salma said. Voice slightly higher than usual. “He was brave enough to learn our dance. On the spot.”

“Brave or stupid.” Gabriel smiled. “The jury’s still out.”

Salma laughed. Too loud.

Leyla caught Maya’s eye. Mouthed: Finally.

Maya suppressed a grin.

19 minutes later

The group had drifted toward a shaded corner by a closed-off parking lot. Someone had set up lawn chairs. Someone else had acquired more drinks.

Maya was standing with her back against a chain-link fence, watching Sean argue with Nima about something.

Nia appeared at her elbow. “You good?”

“I’m great.” Maya responded. A little too quickly.

“You’re staring.” Nia turned to face her.

“I’m not staring. I’m observing.”

“You’re observing very intensely.”

Maya took a long sip of her drink. “We work together. I’m allowed to observe my business partner.”

“Mmhmm.” Nia rolled her eyes.

“Don’t ‘mmhmm’ me.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Nia was fighting a smile. “How’s the work going, by the way? The… what’s it called?”

“NextBlock.” Maya answered.

“NextBlock. How’s it going?”

“Good. We contracted some designers and developers. Website’s up.”

“Wow. Suddenly so real.”

“It was always real.”

“You just quit your job.” Nia tried to get eye contact from Maya. “Are you taking it all in? Are you worrying about the risk?”

“I’m fine Nia. Really.” Maya still wasn’t meeting her eyes. Her’s were glued to Sean. “None of this feels like a lot.”

“No? What does it feel like?”

Nia followed Maya’s gaze. Sean was laughing at something Ken said. He pushed his hair back from his face. Glanced over at Maya.

Maya looked away, back to Nia.

“It feels…rational.” Maya said letting out a big sigh. “I’m good, girl. Let’s go find some water.”

“Let’s go.” Nia shrugged.

25 minutes later

Sean was suddenly holding bags of food. Empanadas from somewhere. Pupusas from somewhere else. A pile of napkins that was already losing to the wind.

The group had claimed a curb. Nine people sprawled out in the shade. Gabriel had somehow ended up next to Salma again.

Maya watched Salma laugh at something he said. Watched her tuck her hair behind her ear.

Leyla appeared beside Maya. “They’re gonna get married.”

“We’re not giving her away that easily.” Maya objected. “What do we even know about him?”

“He’s a recent transplant. Bay Area. Laid off but has still been buying her drinks.” Leyla shared the information like a private investigator.

“Bet he’s in tech.” Maya raised her eyebrows.

“Is that a good or bad thing?” Leyla asked?

Maya shrugged.

“Good for her though, right? Finally?” Leyla clutched at her heart.

“Finally.” Maya agreed. “She deserves some fun.”

She glanced across the group. Sean was watching her. Looked away when she caught him. Back at Leyla.

“Yeah, so do you.” Leyla winked at Maya.

50 minutes later

Sean found her by the empanadas.

“You’re hiding.”

“I’m eating.” Maya took another bite of flaky goodness.

“Clever way to do both.”

She handed him one. He took it. Stood next to her.

Close enough that their hips almost touched. But not quite.

“Nima’s warming up to you.” He said.

“Is he?”

“He asked me if you were always this intense.”

“What did you say?”

“I said it’s one of your best qualities.”

Maya snorted. “Thanks.”

“He’s just…protective.”

Maya’s neck snapped. “Of what?”

“Nevermind I said that.” Sean suddenly realized he had lost track of the number of drinks he had.

“Does he think this is a bad situation for you?” Maya felt herself sobering up. “Does he think NextBlock is a bad idea?”

“Maya, it’s not like that. Honestly, he doesn’t even understand it enough to have an opinion.” Sean was dragging out each word. “It’s just…Nima saw me after Vegas. Those two weeks, before-”

“Oh,” Maya stood there. Looking at the ground.

“Give it time. He will love you. Just like I—” Sean froze. “Just give him time.”

They ate in silence. The music from the main stage shifted — something slower. Go-go giving way to R&B.

“We should tell them.” Maya said.

“Tell them what?” Sean asked.

“About Billboard. What we’re building. They keep asking questions and we keep deflecting.”

“They’re drunk.” Sean grabbed Maya’s trash and she followed him to throw it away.

“So are we.” Maya walked in front of him, trying to block his path.

“I’m not drunk.” Sean insisted. “I’m perfectly sober. Watch.” Sean lifted one of his legs and touched his nose with his index finger.

His leg slipped down and he caught himself right before falling.

Maya laughed.

“Okay, I’m too drunk.” He admitted. “You’ll have to do the pitch?”

“Nope.” Maya shook her head. “You’re the marketing side. I’m the tech.”

“I want you to do it.” He said. “You’re better at it.”

“I’m not—”

“Maya.” His voice dropped. “This is your idea. Let them first here it with your voice. With your passion. You light up when you talk about it. It’s inspiring.” He paused. “You light up when you talk about anything, actually.”

She felt her face get hot. Not from the sun.

“That’s…” She stopped. Tried again. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” She didn’t have an answer. She reached for some water.

“Because,” she repeated. And nothing more.

He was smiling now.

“Fine.” She pushed off from the fence. “Let’s play shark tank with some drunk millenials.”

“An important target market.”

She rolled her eyes.

And she was grinning cheek to cheek.

45 minutes later

The group moved again. A rooftop bar now, overlooking the festival. The sun was starting to set. Golden hour.

Ken was on his sixth beer and asking Gabriel about his job. Very loudly.

“SO WHAT DO YOU DO?”

“I was at Goldman.” Gabriel said. “Investment banking. Their San Francisco office.”

Leyla grabbed Gabriel’s arm. “GOLDMAN SACHS?”

“Yes.”

“THE Goldman Sachs?” Nia asked.

“I think so.” Gabriel nervously laughed.

“SALMA.” Leyla grabbed Salma’s arm. “Goldman Sachs??”

“I heard him.” Salma was trying to play it cool. Face said otherwise.

“I got a finance bro to twerk!” Leyla high fived Maya.

“I was a finance bro. Now I’m funemployed.” Gabriel smiled at Salma.

“Why’d you quit?” Nima asked. “Maya just quit! Last week!”

“Congratulations!” Gabriel turned to Maya.

They high fived.

“It’s rare to see people happy to not be employed.” Nima said.

“The hours were killing me. My sister’s out here. I have good savings. Investments. I can afford to reset.” Gabriel met Salma’s eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s so smart.” Ken said. “Amazing that you can afford to.”

“I did okay there.”

“He did OKAY at GOLDMAN.” Leyla was still not over it. She turned to Salma. “He did OKAY at GOLDMAN.”

“Leyla. I will kill you.”

“I’m just saying!”

Maya caught Sean’s eye across the table.

The Goldman guy. Interesting.

Now? He mouthed.

She was tipsy enough to say yes.

Now. She nodded.

“Mr. Gabriel.” Maya leaned forward. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“We’re building an app. Starting a company. Sean and me.” She gestured vaguely between them. “I’m curious what someone like you would think.”

Gabriel’s posture shifted. Interested now. “What kind of company?”

“Our first product is the Billboard app.” Maya said. “Think of a digital billboard someone can rent.”

“Why would someone rent it? Who is being shown that billboard?”

“Either people you direct to your billboard. Or people we match you with.”

“Match? Like a dating app?”

The image of Sean’s dating profile appearing on her phone flashed in Maya’s head. She froze.

She looked at Sean. His eyes were widened. He had sat up.

“Yes. Actually, just like a dating app. You opt in. Instead of an age and location range, you set your price.” Sean smiled. Waved to hand it back to Maya.

“And if you like a billboard you’ve been matched with, you can go explore what you were just shown. It could be a new podcast. Or TV show. Or album. Or content creator.” Maya leaned closer to Gabriel.

“What do you mean, you set your price?” Gabriel looked confused.

“When you buy a billboard, you set the campaign budget. It get paid out per view.”

“Wait, your app pays people to get matched with ads?” Gabriel sat up.

“Matched with videos. We’re calling them billboards.” Maya explained. “It’s a non-exploitative way to promote yourself on the internet.”

“Paid how? Paid what?”

“Bitcoin.” Maya said. “Instant micro-payments. No fees on Lightning.”

“Here we go,” Ken grinned and sat back with his beer. “Bitcoin solves everything, right?”

“Not everything.” Maya smiled. “Just money.”

Nia, Salma, and Leyla stopped mid-conversation to take a selfie. Nima started texting on his phone.

Maya watched their friends check out. Gabriel leaned in. “What’s the business model?”

Sean didn’t look away from Maya once.

“Let’s say you want to pay out $100 in BTC to promote…” Maya looks around. “…promote Nima! His company instagram. It has the best car cleaning tips.”

Nima looked up.

“Nima could buy a billboard, post a video up to a minute long. Drive people to go see content.”

“How many people would see it?” Nima asked.

“That’s up to you. And the market. Say you’ll pay a quarter a view. You could get 400 people. Completed views.” Maya was getting more comfortable speaking to the table. “But you could also get matched with people who set a price for 1 cent.”

“So maybe 1000 people see it?” Gabriel asked.

“Maybe! The market decides.” Maya threw her hands in the air. “But whatever your budget, we just charge a 20 percent service fee.”

“On every match?” Gabriel asked, skeptical.

“No.” Maya laughed. “We do not take a cut from the payout. We get paid when you buy a billboard. How it gets paid out is none of our business or concern. You can adjust it if it doesn’t serve you based on market behavior.”

“We can’t manipulate it even if we wanted to.” Sean said, “Maya is building it in a way people could actually trust.”

Leyla blinked. “Okay. That’s actually… okay.”

Gabriel was thinking. “From day one? You’re making money from day one?”

“If it works. From day one.” Sean said.

“It will work.” Maya corrected.

Gabriel sat back. “Wait.” He looked around the table. “This is like… a real thing? Not a side project?”

“It’s real.” Sean said.

“We have a website you can see. Contractors hired. A roadmap.” Maya added.

“And she just quit her job.” Leyla announced. Loudly.

Gabriel blinked. “You quit your job for this?”

“Last week.” Maya said.

“Holy shit.” Gabriel looked at her differently now. “You’re all in.”

“We’re both all in.” Maya said. Looking at Sean.

“But she’s UNEMPLOYED all in.” Leyla clarified. “She has no income. No plan B. She’s just—”

“Leyla.” Salma cut her off.

“I’m just making sure he understands the stakes!”

“This is not a risk. Staying in my job can’t even be plan B. I think he understands the stakes. Do you?” Maya didn’t realize how loud she had gotten.

“We are all very proud and excited for you, Maya.” Salma physically placed herself between Maya and Leyla. “And we know you’ve thought this through.”

Leyla surprised everyone by staying quite.

“It is brave.” Gabriel said. “What Maya is doing. Most people I know talk about doing something like this. They never actually do it.”

“Is it smart though?” Nima asked. “To try take on the tech giants?”

“This is a better pitch than I’ve heard in a long time. Most teams just focus on growth. Raise money, burn through it, figure out revenue later.” Gabriel looked at Maya and Sean, then back to Nima. “Your friends are smart.”

35 minutes later

The sun was gone now. The festival was winding down. Someone had suggested walking to Rumi’s for food. Someone else had seconded.

The group started gathering their things. Ken and Gabriel were deep in conversation — something about video games and studios. Nima was showing his videos to Salma and Nia. Leyla was taking pictures of the sunset.

Maya drifted to the edge of the rooftop. Looking out at the city. The lights coming on.

Sean appeared beside her. Close. Their arms almost touching.

“That went well.” He said.

“It did.” Maya said without moving her gaze from the city.

“Gabriel’s interested.”

“People who understand how things work will get it.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am happy.” Maya took a deep breath. “Most people will not get it. Or care. One person getting it just frustrates me that so many others just can’t see it”

“We just don’t have their attention yet. Some people like ideas. But most people want the experience.” Sean waved his hands up like he was opening a broadway show.

He got Maya to chuckle.

“We’ll have an app in their hands soon.” Sean said.

“Soon?” Maya winced.

“Eventually?” Sean countered.

Maya laughed. She took a longer deep breath. Let herself indugle in a moment taking him in. “YOU liked my idea, Sean.”

Sean opened his mouth. Hesitated. Closed his mouth.

He was looking at her. She was smiling. That smile.

–

Across the rooftop, Salma elbowed Leyla. Nodded toward Maya and Sean.

Leyla looked. Raised her eyebrows.

Salma shook her head. Don’t.

–

Sean finally spoke. “I liked…you.”

She held his gaze. Too long. Definitely too long.

Her heart was pounding. She hoped he couldn’t tell.

He waited. For her. Like he always was.

Maya’s hand was on the table. Sean’s was too. Close. Not touching. But close enough that if either moved an inch—

The space between them felt charged. Electric. Neither moved.

Someone’s phone buzzed. Nima checked his. “Rumi’s?” He looked up. “We have a reservation?”

Sean and Maya’s attention snapped out of focus.

Sean turned to Nima. “Yeah. I uh. I booked us the table.”

“Of course you did.” Maya said smiling to herself.

30 minutes later

The table was loud. Two bottles of wine in. Bread baskets demolished.

Ken had somehow ended up between Nia and Salma. Gabriel was next to Salma. His hand rested on the back of her chair.

She looked across the table. Sean was laughing at something Nima said.

“Okay wait.” Ken put down his wine. “I need to understand the friend math here. How does everyone know everyone?”

“Middle school.” Nima pointed at Sean, then Ken. “The three of us.”

“We were Ken’s first Iranian friends.” Sean added.

“They introduced me to kabob.” Ken put his hand on his chest. “Life changing.”

“We’ve been trying to get rid of him ever since.” Nima joked.

“Never gonna happen.” Ken took a spoonful of rice and kabob into his mouth.

The girls laughed.

“What about you guys?” Ken looked at Salma.

“College orientation.” Salma said. “Literally met on that first day.”

“Salma walked up to me.” Maya said. “Love at first sight.”

“Because you looked terrified.”

“I was terrified.”

“Ah, so Salma always makes the first move.” Gabriel winked.

“Anyway…”, Salma blushed. Turned to Ken. “What were you guys like as teenagers?”

Ken lit up. “Oh, I got stories.”

“No you don’t.” Nima warned.

“This one time—”

“Don’t.”

“Nima got in a fight.” Ken was already laughing. “Because some kid at a basketball game said something about Sean’s mom.”

“I didn’t get in a FIGHT—”

“You shoved him.”

“He deserved it.”

“Sean wasn’t even there. Nima just… handled it.”

Leyla raised her glass. “Respect.”

“And then when the coach tried to kick Nima off the team—” Ken continued.

“Sean talked him out of it.” Nima shook his head. “Kid wrote a whole letter. To the athletic director. Got signatures from parents. Made a presentation.”

“A presentation?” Maya looked at Sean.

Sean shrugged. “It worked.”

“And what were YOU doing during all this?” Salma asked Ken.

“Me? I was making sure nobody got expelled. Chilled everyone out. Ended the mom smack talk.”

“That…checked out.” Nia laughed.

“Looks like nothing’s changed.” Maya said, smiling.

The entrees arrived. Lamb. Chicken. Rice with tahdig that made Leyla gasp and immediately start taking photos.

“Okay but wait.” Nia pointed her fork at Maya. “What’s the plan for money? Now that you don’t work?”

“Bitcoin is the plan.” Maya smiled.

Nia groaned. “But what does that mean?”

“I’ve been buying Bitcoin.” Maya said. “For years. Every paycheck. My retirement. Everything.”

The table went quiet.

“So when you told us at brunch to ‘just buy Bitcoin’—” Leyla started.

“I meant it.” Maya said. “and all those brunches before then. For the last… five years? I think.”

“And we all ignored you.”

“You did.”

“So you’re just… set?” Nia asked. “No more working?”

“I’m not set. But I’m not desperate. There’s a difference. Like Gabriel, I assume?” Maya looked at him.

“Yes, it’s easier to figure out your next move if you’re mind isn’t occupied working for something else all day.” Gabriel said while gently caressing Salma’s arm with his hand.

“But Bitcoin’s price is so volatile.” Nima jumped in. “If it drops tomorrow, how much runway do you really have?”

“I have enough.” Maya responded.

Sean sat up and added, “the number one rule of Bitcoin is you don’t say how much Bitcoin you have.”

“Fight club rules?” Nia looked intriged.

“Let’s say Maya discovered Bitcoin 15 years ago.” Sean said. “When it was worth just a dollar.”

“Lucky lady.” Ken added.

“Well imagine Maya told everyone that she bought $100 in Bitcoin. Not a big deal 15 year ago.” Sean paused to see who was listening. Surprisingly, everyone. “But if you knew she did that back then, you would know today how much she’s worth.”

“How much does that come out to? Today?” Salma wondered out loud.

“10 million dollars.” Sean said back and enjoyed his mic drop. “Now imagine today, you buy $100 in Bitcoin today. Would you tell someone? If it could 100,000x on you?”

The table went silent. Nia was thinking. Nodding her head.

“But it’s not gonna 100,000x that much again.” Salma countered.

“We’ll have to wait 15 years to know. But I know that the question is how much it will grow in value. Not the other way around.” Sean responded.

“Bitcoin is the ultimate retirement plan. I’ve just retired. I get to do what I want now. Make money how I want.” Maya said proudly.

“Wow, you’re all in-all in.” Nima said, slightly impressed. Slightly concerned.

“And I bet you’re all in on fiat currency? The dollar.” Maya asked.

“No, I have stocks. Investments.” Nima answered.

“But they are based in the dollar.” Maya said. Ready to end the dead-end Bitcoin discourse. “You have all your eggs in one basket. The U.S. Dollar. I just picked different eggs.”

“Sean.” Gabriel had that tone again. The one from the rooftop. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re still working? Employed?”

Sean nodded, picked at his rice.

“Are you gonna quit?”

The table got quieter. Maya watched Sean’s jaw tighten. She wanted to know his answer.

“I’m in government. Lots happening right now. I’m just keeping the ship afloat.” He finally said.

Afloat? Leyla mouthed to Maya. Maya stayed still.

“But you’re building this thing together—” Gabriel said looking at Maya.

“I know.” Sean answered defensively. “And we are.”

“So eventually—”

“I know.” Sean looked up, defensive now. “We’ll figure it out. Right now, Maya is doing the heavy lifting, building everything.”

Nima looked confused “Quitting after escaping the cuts…you’ve been trying to keep things above water over there I thought?”

“I have. I am.” Sean’s shoulders tensed.

“It sounds like a lot. And the charity. Now this app with Maya?” Leyla said.

“If everything is a priority, nothing is a priority!” Nia recited for the table.

Maya caught Sean’s eye across the table. Forced a smile. Are you okay? she mouthed. He gave a small nod.

Sean set down his fork. “Like Maya, I have Bitcoin. Quitting will be possible when it’s time.”

The table pretended to accept his answer and moved on.

1 hour later

They spilled out onto the sidewalk. The air was finally cooler now. The streets had settled.

Salma and Gabriel were walking ahead. His arm around her shoulders.

Maya watched them.

Sean appeared next to her. “Nima and Ken just got their ride.”

“The girls too. We’re walking home… I think.” Maya nodded towards Salma and Gabriel.

They walked in silence for a moment. Their friends’ laughter echoing ahead.

“Your friends are great.” Sean said.

“Yours too.”

“Ken likes you.”

“Ken likes everyone.”

“Nima likes you.”

Maya looked at him. “Well, I hear I’m very likeable.”

Sean stopped walking. Maya braced herself for what he was going to say.

“My block is right up here.” Sean pointed away from the direction Maya was going.

“Oh.” Maya couldn’t hide the dissapointment on her face. “Yeah, you must be tired.”

“It was a long day, yeah.” Sean said. His body were facing her but his feet were facing his place. “But a great day. I’ll let you get home.”

He turned away and started walking.

Maya stayed for a while to watch him. In case he turned back.

Once he finally did, she was already gone.

One month later

Maya was on a HiveTalk video call with Rafael when Sean knocked.

She waved him in without looking away from the screen. As if he could see her through the door. “Come in. We’re almost done.”

Sean closed the door quietly. Set his bag down. Leaned against the wall, out of frame.

Rafael’s tired face filled Maya’s laptop screen. His São Paulo kitchen behind him. “And the diVine project got tons of attention when they announced it.”

“When was that?” Maya asked.

“Just announced through a tech crunch article. Video app on Nostr. Like Vine, but open.” Rafael leaned back. “People went crazy for it.”

“Wow Tech Cruch. It went viral?”

“Yes. Got tons of attention. Mainstream attention. People want this.” Rafael paused. “But they’re been working hard to turn the prototype into something mainstream users can actually use. It’s a lot.”

Sean stepped into frame. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Sean!” Rafael’s face lit up. “How’s NextBlock?”

“Good. Building.” Sean moved to stand behind Maya’s chair. “What’s diVine?”

Maya filled him in. “Video app on Nostr. Some old vines have been scrapped to add. Got tons of attention. Just wasn’t ready yet for mainstream users.”

“Mainstream attention.” Sean’s voice had a note of something—excitement? Concern? “That’s what we want.”

“It’s what we need.” Maya said. “But there’s a delicate balance.”

Rafael nodded. “You want the adoption. You need the adoption. But if you’re not ready—”

“You get the attention before you can handle it.” Maya finished. “People try it. It’s not polished. They might not come back.”

“Or they do come back, but you’re scrambling to keep up.” Rafael said. “These devs are doing the work. But it’s hard when everyone’s watching.”

“It’s exciting that a video app idea is what did it though.” Sean said. “That’s good for Nostr. Good for all of us.”

“But it’s also a warning.” Maya added. “We need to be ready. Or we need to control how fast people come in.”

“Exactly.” Rafael looked at Maya. “You’re being smart. Building before you launch. But you also can’t wait forever.”

“We know.” Maya said. “I’m trying to find the balance.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Rafael smiled. “Anyway, I should let you go. Good to see you, Sean.”

“You too.” Sean waved back.

“Bye, Rafael.” Maya ended the call.

The screen went dark.

Maya leaned back in her chair. Sean moved to sit on the edge of her desk.

“Mainstream attention.” Sean said.

“Mainstream attention.” Maya repeated.

Maya turned to face him. “But we need to be ready when the attention comes.”

“It’s going to come.” Sean’s voice was certain. “So our referral program—”

“I know you’re confident about it.” Maya said. “But Sean—”

“Don’t.” Sean cut her off. Gentle. “Don’t tell me to manage my expectations. I’ve seen your work. I know what this can be.”

Maya’s throat tightened. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed if—”

“I won’t be disappointed.” Sean leaned forward. “Because we’re going to do this right. Together.”

They held eye contact. Too long. Both aware of it.

Maya looked away first. “So our referral program.”

“Right.” Sean cleared his throat. “We’re giving half our service fee—10 percent of every billboard purchase—to whoever referred them. No cap. No limit.”

“People could make real money.” Maya said.

“Real money.” Sean’s voice had energy now. “If it works, it’ll work fast. People will share. They’ll want to earn. It’ll spread.”

“Exactly.” Maya stood. Started pacing. “Which is the problem.”

“The problem?”

“We need to control how many people come in. And who comes in.” Maya stopped. Looked at Sean. “We can’t handle a flood. Not yet. We need to scale as we’re ready.”

Sean was quiet. Thinking. “So we need the referral program to work. But we also need to control who gets in.”

“Exactly.” Maya said. “And I think I know how.”

Sean smirked. “Of course you do.”

“Early access sign-up.” Maya explained. “But this is connected to the referral program. Once you’re let in, you can refer 21 accounts. If you’re referred, you cut the early access line.”

“21. Nice.” Sean said.

“Obviously.” Maya smiled. “But here’s what I’m thinking—”

“People only invite people they want there.” Sean finished.

Maya looked at him. “Exactly.”

“Web of trust.” Sean said.

“Web of trust.” Maya repeated. “They won’t refer just anyone. They’ll refer people who’ll actually use it. People who’ll make them money.”

“Quality over quantity.” Sean added.

“Quality over quantity.” Maya agreed. “It’s not just access. It’s an invitation.”

Sean was quiet. Thinking. “This is how we do it. Controlled growth. Permissionless building. But smart.”

“This is really smart.” Maya said.

They stood there for a moment. Both thinking. Both seeing the same solution.

“This is good.” Maya said.

“This is really good.” Sean agreed.

He was still looking at her. She was still looking at him.

“Whiteboard it?” Sean asked.

“Whiteboard it.” Maya smiled.

They moved to the whiteboard. Together. As if they’d done this a hundred times before.

Maybe they had.

6 weeks later

One month into the government shutdown.

The Corner Cafe. Their usual table. Back corner. Near the outlet. The backs of their laptops facing each other. Maya and Sean, sitting across from each other.

They’d been working. Productive. They always were.

But today Maya kept getting distracted.

Sean’s phone had buzzed seventeen times in the last hour. He’d checked it every time. Scrolled through news. Shook his head. Put it down. Picked it back up.

Maya watched him. Watched his shoulders tense every time the phone lit up. Watched him try to focus on his laptop. Fail. Check his phone again.

She’d been watching this for a month. Tried to be understanding. But she was losing patience.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. She’d made up her mind. She was ready to tell him. She was ready.

His phone buzzed again.

Sean picked it up. Read something. His jaw tightened. He typed a response. Put the phone down. Looked back at his laptop.

But his focus was gone. She could see it.

Maya took a breath. “Sean.” Her voice was quiet. Whispered almost.

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“We should talk.” Still quiet. Like she didn’t want anyone to hear.

“About what?” He reached for his phone again.

“Sean.” Maya’s voice was quiet. Too quiet. “I’ve been wanting to say this for weeks. But the timing never felt right. You’re always stressed. Always distracted.”

Sean’s hand stopped. He looked at her. Finally looked at her. For the first time all day.

“But I can’t wait anymore.” Maya said. “I’m ready. But you need to be ready too.”

“Ready?” Sean’s voice matched hers. Quiet.

“I think I’m ready.” Maya said. “To date you. I mean, we’ve been working together every day. It’s been… it’s been great.”

Sean stared at her. “Maya—”

“I want this.” Maya’s voice broke slightly. Still quiet. “I want us. And I also want NextBlock to work. But we can’t have either if you’re spread this thin.”

Sean’s shoulders tensed. He leaned back in his chair.

“You need to quit your job.” Maya said it. Direct. But still quiet.

Sean stared at her. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Now? During the shutdown?” His voice got louder. Not shouting. But not whispering anymore.

“This shutdown is showing you what could be different.” Maya’s voice got faster. Still trying to keep it down. “You’ve been unstoppable the last month. But you’re so distracted. Imagine if you could give this your all.”

“People are calling me at 2 AM—” Sean’s voice rose.

“Because the system is broken.” Maya cut him off. Her voice getting louder too. “And you’re trying to fix it from inside. But we’re building the replacement. That’s where your energy should be.”

“I’m not abandoning people.” Sean’s voice was sharp now. Not quiet anymore.

“You’re not abandoning them. You’re building what comes next.” Maya’s voice matched his. Getting louder. “They furloughed you. They don’t need you. But you’re still trying to save them. Why?”

“Because people need help.” Sean’s voice was loud now. Too loud for a cafe.

“People always need help.” Maya’s voice rose to match. “You can’t save everyone from inside a collapsing system.”

Sean leaned forward. “You don’t respect what I do.”

“What?” Maya’s voice broke. “Sean, that’s not—” She caught herself. Lowered her voice. “I respect what you’re trying to do. But you’re wasting your genius on a sinking ship.”

“I’ve been doing this for 15 years.” Sean’s voice was still loud. “This is who I am.”

“Your parents worked hard so you could be free.” Maya said. Quieter now. Trying to bring it back down. “Not so you could be trapped.”

Sean shook his head. “You’re asking me to choose between my job and you.”

“I’m asking you to choose between the old system and the new one.” Maya said. “Between asking permission and being free.”

“We talked about this.” Maya’s voice was quiet again. “That night. We kissed. You said you’d quit eventually. When it was time.”

“It’s not time.” Sean’s voice was flat. Quiet. Defeated.

“When will it be time?” Maya asked. “When will you stop asking permission to live your life?”

Sean was quiet. Too quiet.

Then he stood up. Picked up his bag.

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Sean—”

He stopped. Turned back. Looked down at her. Still sitting. “You want me to quit. During a shutdown. So we can date. That’s what you’re asking.”

“Yes.” Maya said. Still sitting. Looking up at him. “That’s what I’m asking.”

Sean stared at her. Then he turned. Walked out.

Maya sat there. Alone. Still in her chair.

Her laptop still open. His tea. Still cold. His chair. Empty.

The barista looked at her. “You okay?”

Maya nodded. Started packing up. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fine.

3 weeks later

Salma was on the couch. Gabriel next to her. Close. They’d been inseperatble since the H Street festival. He was always there.

Maya was at her desk. Working. Or trying to. She’d been working alone for three weeks. Since the fight. Since Sean walked out.

Thanksgiving came and went. The government opened back up. She’d only seen a few text exchanges between him and the design team. Brief. Professional.

She’d been giving him space. That’s what he’d asked for.

So she’d waited. Worked. Waited.

“Maya.” Salma’s voice was careful. Too careful.

Maya looked up from her laptop. “Yeah?”

Salma and Gabriel exchanged a look.

“What?” Maya closed her laptop. “What’s going on?”

“So Gabriel found out something today.” Salma said. “About Sean.”

Maya’s chest tightened. “What?”

Gabriel leaned forward. “Ken told me. Sean got RIF’d. Laid off. Today.”

Maya stared at them. “What?”

“Reduction in force.” Gabriel said. “Government cuts. They let him go.”

“When?” Maya’s voice was quiet.

“Today. Ken said Sean told him this afternoon.”

Maya was quiet. Processing.

“He didn’t tell me.” Maya said. “He didn’t tell me.”

Salma’s face softened. “Maya—”

“He didn’t tell me.” Maya repeated. “We haven’t talked in three weeks. Why would he?”

“He was probably just upset.” Salma said. “It’s clearly a hard time for him right now.”

Maya’s voice got sharp. “He walked out. He said he couldn’t do this. And then he stopped talking. Stopped working. On our company.”

“Maya—” Gabriel started.

“No.” Maya stood up. Started pacing. “I asked him to quit. I told him he was needed here. Wanted here. And he lost it on me. He defended that place. That system. And now he can see the truth he punished me for saying.”

“Maya. That’s unfair to him.” Salma tried to calm her.

“Unfair?” Maya’s voice rose. “He walked out on me. On us. On NextBlock. And you’re telling me I’m being unfair?”

“I’m telling you he’s probably embarrassed.” Salma said. “He defended that place. You were right. And now they’ve let him go. That’s humiliating.”

Maya was quiet. “I know.”

“So maybe cut him some slack.” Salma said. “Just a little.”

“I can’t.” Maya said. “I was right. And he knows it. And he’s not saying anything.”

“Maya, he’s probably hurting—” Salma started.

“I know.” Maya said. “I know he’s hurting. But so am I. And he’s the one who walked away. He’s the one who stopped talking. He’s the one who needs to come back.”

She sat back down. Looked at her laptop. Closed.

“I’m not going to him.” Maya said. “He needs to come to me.”

Salma and Gabriel were quiet.

Maya looked at her phone. Still no messages. Still nothing.

She wanted to text him. Wanted to call. Wanted to be there.

But she wouldn’t. He’d walked away. He’d stopped talking. He’d stopped working.

“He didn’t tell me.” Maya said again. Quiet now. “He doesn’t need to know I know.”

1 week later

A knock at Maya’s door.

She looked up from her laptop. Checked the time. 8 PM. Who would be here?

She walked to the door. Looked through the peephole.

Sean.

Her chest tightened. She hadn’t seen him in a month. Hadn’t heard from him. Hadn’t known if she ever would again.

She opened the door.

“Hey.” Sean stood there. Hands in his pockets. Tired. But present.

“Hey.” Maya said. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” Sean asked. “I know it’s late. But I need to say some things.”

Maya stepped back. Let him in.

He walked to the couch. Sat. Didn’t look at her.

Maya sat across from him. In her desk chair. Creating distance.

“I got fired.” Sean said. “I know you know.”

Maya nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Sean looked at her. “I should have. But I was…I’ve been processing.”

Maya was quiet.

“I’m sorry about what happened at Corner Cafe.” Sean said. “About how I reacted. About walking away. About turning off. About not being able to hear you when you were trying to help me.”

Maya’s throat tightened. “You ghosted me.”

“I know.” Sean ran his fingers through his hair. “I know I did. And I’m sorry. You were right. About everything. The system. The sinking ship. All of it. I just… I couldn’t see it then.”

Maya was quiet. Waiting.

“Fifteen years.” Sean said. “I gave them fifteen years. And they just… let me go. Like I was nothing. Like all that work meant nothing.”

Maya was quiet.

“I thought I was helping people.” Sean’s voice broke slightly. “I thought I was making a difference. But the system doesn’t care. It never did. And now I’m… I’m nothing to them.”

“You’re not nothing.” Maya said. Quiet.

Sean looked at her. “Thank you. But it feels like it. It feels like I picked the wrong career and trapped myself. I was wrong about everything.”

“Not everything.” Maya gave a half-smile. Pointed to her whiteboard.

“The last year has been chaos.” Sean said. “The last five years, really. Shutdowns. Covid. Budget cuts. Constant uncertainty. I’ve been trying to keep things running.”

He figited with Maya’s Little Hodler plushie.

“I’ve gotten so used to doing so much but getting nothing done.” Sean said. “That’s government work. You fight. You push. You try. And nothing changes. Nothing ever changes. And then they let you go anyway.”

Maya was quiet.

“I thought I was building something.” Sean said. “A career. A pension. Security. But it was all an illusion. They can take it away whenever they want. And they did.”

Maya just nodded.

“I was distracted.” Sean said. “The world was a distraction. My world was a distraction. All of it. Until I met you. Until we started working on this. NextBlock. That’s when things started to make sense in my life. That’s when I started to feel like myself again.”

Maya’s eyes filled. She blinked. Looked away. “Sean—”

“I lost my identity.” Sean said. Quiet. “For fifteen years, I was a government employee. Before that, I was a student. I’ve always belonged to institutions. But with you… this is the first thing I’ve built that’s mine. Ours. And I almost lost it. Almost lost you.”

Maya’s eyes filled. “You didn’t lose me.”

“I know.” Sean’s voice broke. “But I almost did. And that’s what scares me. That I could lose you. That I could lose this. That I could lose myself again.”

Maya was quiet. “I’m still here.”

Sean let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you. I want to fix this. Us. Our trust. But I don’t know how to start.”

Sean reached for her hand. Stopped. Pulled back.

Maya was quiet.

“I’m grateful.” Sean said. “That NextBlock is here for me. That you’re here. That we have this. Something to build. Something that matters.”

Maya’s throat tightened.

“I’m excited.” Sean said. “I’m ready. To give it my all. All of my attention. All of my energy. I’m free now. And I want to build this with you.”

Maya looked at him.

“Okay.” Maya said softly.

Sean nodded. “Thank you.”

They sat there. Quiet. Both processing.

“Can we start tomorrow?” Sean asked. “At the cafe? Our usual table?”

Maya nodded. “Yeah. Our usual table.”

Sean stood. Walked to the door. Stopped. Turned back.

“I’m sorry.” Sean said. “For everything. For the fight. For walking away. For not telling you. I’m sorry.”

Maya nodded. “I know.”

“And thank you.” Sean said. “For waiting.”

Maya’s throat tightened. “I’m still here.”

Sean looked at her. Almost reached for her. “I know. And I’m grateful.”

He opened the door. Walked out.

Maya sat there. Alone. Processing.

2 weeks later

December 21, 2025. Winter Solstice. Yalda.

Maya knocked on Sean’s door. It was the first time she had ever done that.

He opened the door. Smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Maya stepped inside.

The apartment was… warm. Lived in. Not what she expected.

Books everywhere. Stacked on shelves. On the coffee table. On the floor by the couch. Technical manuals. Poetry collections. Persian literature. English translations of Hafez. Rumi. Saadi.

Plants in corners. Green. Alive. Succulents on the windowsill. Herbs in the kitchen.

Persian rugs on hardwood floors. Deep reds. Blues. Golds. Worn. Beautiful.

And the table. Set. Beautifully.

A spread. Persian food. More than two people could eat. Rice. Tahdig. Khoresht. Salad. Fresh herbs. Pomegranates. Watermelon. Nuts. Dates.

Candles. Everywhere. Soft light. Warm.

“You cooked?” Maya asked.

“I cooked.” Sean said. “Yalda tradition. Food. Poetry. Staying up through the longest night.”

Maya looked around. “This is beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Sean said. “But before we eat… I need to show you something.”

Maya’s chest tightened. “What?”

Sean walked to his laptop. Opened it. Turned it toward her.

“Early access sign-up.” Sean said. “It’s ready to go live.”

Maya stared at the screen. “Since when?”

“Since the end of the shutdown.” Sean said. “I finished the design with the team. Built the launch strategy. Pushed the final changes. You can push it to go live. People can signal they want NextBlock.”

Maya looked at him. “You never stopped working?”

“I never stopped.” Sean said. “I worked on this every night. Because I needed you to know I never left. I never stopped. I just needed to figure myself out. But I’d never abandoned NextBlock. Or you.”

Maya’s eyes filled. “I thought—”

“I know.” Sean said. “I’m sorry that’s what you thought. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did all this?” Maya asked.

“I did all this.” Sean said. “For you. Just like you described it.”

Maya’s throat tightened. “Thank you.”

Sean closed the laptop. “Now. Can we eat? I’ve been cooking all day.”

Maya smiled. “Yes. Let’s eat.”

–

“I can’t stop eating but I need to stop.” Maya said putting down her fork.

“I’m so glad you liked it.” Sean got up and started clearing the table.

“Tell me about Yalda.” Maya said. “I love holidays based on math. Science. The moon.”

Sean smiled. “Yalda is the longest night of the year. Winter solstice. We stay up. Read poetry. Eat. Welcome the light.”

“That’s beautiful.” Maya said.

“It’s tradition.” Sean said. “Families gather. Read Hafez. Rumi. Share food. Stay up until dawn. Welcome the return of longer days.”

Maya looked at the books. “You read poetry?”

“When I was a kid, my mother would read to us. Hafez. Rumi. Saadi. Poetry was… everything. Language. Beauty. Truth.”

Maya picked up a book. Opened it. Persian script. Beautiful. “This is yours?”

“My mother’s.” Sean said. “She gave it to me when I left for college. Said I’d need it. She was right.”

Maya looked at him. Really looked at him. “You’re different here.”

“Here?”

“In your space. You’re… you. Just Sean.”

Sean smiled. “You mean Shayan?”

Maya laughed. “I think that’s here. Here you’re Shayan.”

They sat there. Quiet. The candles flickering.

“I found out something recently.” Maya said. Quiet. “About my family. My mother’s side.”

Sean looked at her. “What?”

“I’m Native American.” Maya said. “I thought I was Black. And I am. But I’m also Native. The government changed the records. Reclassified people. Erased Native identity. Made it so people didn’t know who they were.”

Sean was quiet. “Maya—”

“I’m still figuring it out.” Maya said. “What it means. Who I am. I wish I had access to my culture. My history. Like you do.”

Sean reached for her hand. “You do have access. You’re finding it.”

Maya looked at their hands. “Am I? Or am I just… lost?”

“You’re not lost.” Sean said. “You’re found. You’re here. With me. Sharing this. That’s your culture. That’s your connection.”

Maya looked at their hands. Still connected. “I think my ancestors probably celebrated something like Yalda. Winter solstice. Based on science. The moon. The stars. I think they understood the same things your ancestors understood.”

Sean squeezed her hand. “They did. And we’re honoring them. By building this. By being here. Together. They understood that time is sacred. That the longest night is worth honoring. That we welcome the light together.”

Maya looked at him. “That’s what we’re building. Something that honors attention. That treats it as sacred.”

“Exactly.” Sean said. “Your ancestors understood that. Mine did too. And we’re building it again. Together.”

Maya looked at their hands. Still connected. “I haven’t even told Salma.”

“I’m so glad you did.” Sean said. “That you’re here. Sharing this with me.”

Sean stood. Turned down the music. Walked to the bookshelf. Pulled out a piece of paper. “I wrote something for you.”

Maya’s chest tightened. “What?”

“A poem.” Sean said. “For Yalda. For you.”

He sat back down. Looked at the paper. Then at her.

“In Yalda tradition, we read poetry. Share what matters.” Sean said. “This poem… this is my signal to you. That I believe in us. That I want to be part of this. With you.”

Maya took a deep breath. “Read it.”

Sean looked at the paper. Read:

attention is a sacred wine I dare not steal the cup unless your hand, freely, lifts it up

tick tock block by block the old guard falls we’re raising a temple outside their walls

guard what is sacred give only if earned through trust freely given or value returned

Maya sat speechless.

“It’s called Tick Tock.” Sean said. Breaking the silence.

Maya smiled. Her eyes met his.

Sean handed her the paper.

She looked at it closely. Read the words over and over.

Finally she asked, “unless my hand freely lifts it up?”

“It’s opt-in.” Sean smirked. “The full NextBlock experience.”

She moved towards him. “Give only if earned.”

“I’m not asking for any handouts here.” Sean said. Leaning in.

Maya brought her lips as close as she could to his, without touching. “You’ve earned it.”

Sean’s hand was on her face. Gentle. “Have I?”

Maya nodded. “You have.”

Sean didn’t wait another moment. He kissed her.

They kissed. Like it was the first time. Like it was the last time. Like it was the only time.

No interruptions. No distractions. Just them. In the candlelight. On the longest night of the year.

They broke apart. Still close. Still holding hands.

Sean looked at her. “I need to ask you something.”

Maya’s chest tightened. “What?”

“Will you go on a second date with me?” Sean asked. “Formally. Properly. Not just working together. A real date.”

Maya smiled. “Second? When was the first?”

“What was all this?” Sean motioned to the table. The food. The candles. The poetry. “This was our first date.”

Maya laughed. “I think you’re right.”

She leaned forward. Kissed him.

When they broke apart, Sean smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes, but I don’t have a lot of availability.” Maya smiled. “I gotta push the early access sign-up live. “

“Your time is so precious” Sean said.

“Tick tock.”

“Tick tock.” Sean smiled.

They sat there. Together. In the candlelight.

Welcoming the light.

The next morning.

Maya pushed the early access sign-up live.

People could now signal they were ready. That they believed in what they were building. That they wanted to be part of it.

The world could give them the signal.

Early access sign-up is now live.

Visit billboard.nextblock.app to signal you’re ready.

To be part of what comes next.

Tick tock.