Michael sat at the edge of his bed, one leg swinging lazily while the other was tucked beneath him. His notebook lay open beside him, half-filled with scribbles about pricing, urgency, persuasion, and even how to read a customer’s mood by the way they touched tomatoes.

He chuckled to himself.

Spending the week with Leonard had been… interesting, way more than he expected. He thought he’d just be tagging along, maybe learning a few tricks about selling or negotiation. But Leonard had taken him much deeper than that.

Literally into the market.

In just five days, Michael had learned more than he ever did from months of watching business tutorials online. From standing at open stalls with paper and pen to watching Leonard close three deals in under five minutes, while joking, smiling, and hustling like it was second nature, the experience was priceless.

Still, it had been a long week. His feet ached, his clothes now had a permanent smell of crayfish, and he couldn’t tell whether the woman who kept calling him “small fine boy” was flirting or trying to make him buy more vegetables.

Just then, Ciara poked her head into the room.

“Yo, Mr. Entrepreneur,” she teased, leaning on the doorframe with a playful grin. “You gonna tell me what this Leonard thing is all about? Are you getting paid, or are you just his personal market escort?”

Michael laughed. “Market escort? Please. I’m the one who should be paying him. I’ve learned more about people, and life, this week than I ever expected.”

Ciara laughed and walked in, plopping onto the bed. “So basically, you’ve become a student-slash-laborer. Classic Michael.”

“Character building,” he said with a grin. “And you wouldn’t believe how many serious deals happen over vegetables. It’s insane.”

They were still laughing when Vivian walked in, looking distracted.

“What’s funny?” she asked, untying her scarf and dropping her bag onto the chair.

Ciara smiled. “Just talking about Michael’s new market adventures.”

“Oh,” Vivian said flatly, clearly not in the mood.

Michael’s smile faded. “Everything okay?”

Vivian hesitated, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “It’s Thomas,” she said quietly. “He came to my school again today… talking nonsense.”

Michael frowned. “What kind of nonsense?”

Vivian sighed. “About you. About what you’re doing. About all of us, really. He was loud, making a scene. It was embarrassing.”

Ciara straightened. “What exactly did he say?”

“Just the usual, calling it a scam, saying you’re wasting your time, making fun of your whole ‘project.’ I ignored him, but people were watching.”

Michael took a deep breath. “Thanks for telling me.”

Vivian nodded slightly. “Just thought you should know.”

The room went quiet for a moment before Ciara tried to lighten the mood. “Well, at least he didn’t show up at the market. I don’t think he’d survive Mrs. Hart.”

They chuckled softly, but the air had shifted. Michael looked at them both and felt something deeper, loyalty.

Whatever this was he was building might seem odd or even foolish to others, but not to them. Not really.

He stood abruptly. “So Thomas wants my attention? Fine. He’s got it.”

“Michael, wait!” Ciara called, but he was already halfway out the door.

Vivian added, “Please don’t go after him like this!”

But he didn’t stop. Not this time. He couldn’t.

His feet carried him through familiar streets, past the corner kiosk, around the church bend, and into the clearing behind the old community center. The same playground they used to hang out in as kids. Nothing much had changed… except them.

And there he was, Thomas. Sitting atop the old jungle gym like a ghost from the past, chewing something and staring off into the distance.

Michael slowed down, catching his breath. “I should’ve known you’d be here.”

Thomas didn’t move. “Of course. That’s why I came. I knew you’d come.”

Michael frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Thomas finally looked at him, his expression unreadable. “You ever wonder why I’ve kept my distance all these years?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Michael asked, confused.

“It’s Vivian,” Thomas said simply, his eyes drifting toward the swings. “I’ve liked her since we were kids. You probably knew.”

Michael blinked. “Vivian?”

Thomas nodded. “She only ever had eyes for you, though. You might not notice it, but I do. The way she listens to you. The way she looks at you like you’re the only one who makes sense.”

Michael shifted awkwardly. “That’s not.”

“It is,” Thomas interrupted. “You just don’t see it.” He paused, his tone softening. “I stayed away because I didn’t want to complicate things. But now… seeing her wrapped up in this thing you’re doing, I had to say something.”

He jumped down from the jungle gym, landing lightly. “That’s why I showed up.”

Michael frowned. “To talk about old feelings?”

“No. To warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

Thomas’s expression darkened. “Whatever this is you’re doing, the notes, the mentorship, the market work, it’s not as simple as it looks. It’s bigger than you. And if you keep going, you’re putting Vivian and Ciara at risk too.”

Michael stared. “You sound insane.”

“Do I?” Thomas took a step closer. “You really think Leonard just appeared out of nowhere? A friendly mentor who just happens to know every trader in the city? Who finds you and teaches you how to read people? That’s how it starts. Then come the patterns, the questions… and before long, the system notices.”

“The system?” Michael repeated.

“They always notice the ones who don’t blend in,” Thomas said quietly. “The ones who question things. Observe too much. Write too much. Push too far.”

He looked directly into Michael’s eyes. “You can think I’m crazy. You can call me lost. Maybe I am. But you still have a choice. Walk away before it’s too late.”

Michael clenched his fists. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I am,” Thomas said, his voice steady. “You’re just not ready to hear it yet.”

Michael’s jaw tightened. “Leonard is just…”

“Just what?” Thomas snapped. “A nice guy who magically noticed your potential? You’re smarter than that, Michael.”

The silence between them was heavy.

Finally, Thomas turned away. “If you care about them, stop before it’s too late.”

He began walking off, hands buried in his pockets.

“Wait!” Michael shouted. “We’re not done here, Thomas! What system? What are you talking about?”

But Thomas didn’t turn around. His figure grew smaller with every step until he disappeared into the shadows of the old trees.

Michael stood there, fists clenched, heart pounding.

He wasn’t sure if he felt angry, confused, or afraid.

Maybe all three.