New Beginning

Jason sat at his apartment desk, staring at the screen of his laptop. His resignation was final, his ties to the university severed. The decision had felt liberating in the moment, but now, in the quiet of his apartment, the weight of uncertainty pressed on him. He glanced at the vibration device sitting nearby, its simplicity a stark contrast to the complex questions that had consumed his life.

With a deep breath, Jason opened TikTok and set up his phone. If he was going to move forward, he had to bring his audience—the people who had supported and inspired him—into the conversation.

Jason hit record, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. "Hey, everyone. I wanted to share something big with you. As of today, I'm no longer a professor at my university."

He paused, letting the words settle. "This wasn't an easy decision, but it was a necessary one. My experiments, these patterns we've been exploring together—they mean too much to me to stop. And, honestly, your support has been incredible. It's reminded me why I fell in love with physics in the first place."

Jason leaned closer to the camera. "So here's the plan. I'm thinking about taking this to the next level—live science sessions, where we can test ideas and discover things together in real time. But I need to know what you think. Is this something you'd be interested in? If so, drop your thoughts in the comments. Let's figure this out together."

Satisfied, Jason uploaded the video and leaned back in his chair. The nerves bubbled in his chest as he stared at the blank walls of his apartment. "Here goes nothing," he muttered.

The response to Jason's video was immediate. Notifications flooded his phone, and the comments poured in faster than he could read:

"Absolutely yes to live sessions! Imagine the possibilities!"

"I'd tune in every day. This is what science needs!"

"You're an inspiration, Professor. Keep going!"

Jason scrolled through the comments, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and determination. Among the supportive messages was one that stood out—a direct message from someone named Mia Turner.

Jason opened the message, his curiosity piqued.

"Hi, Professor Welt! My name's Mia Turner. I'm a data analyst and a huge fan of your work. Your video about going live got me thinking—I've been tracking your experiments and the incredible engagement they're getting. If you're serious about live sessions, I'd love to help. I think I can make it happen."

Jason reread the message, surprised by her enthusiasm and directness. He typed a quick reply: "Hi, Mia. Thanks for reaching out. Let's chat—this sounds intriguing."

The next afternoon, Jason met Mia at a local coffee shop. She was in her late twenties, dressed casually but professionally, her tablet tucked under one arm. She greeted Jason with a warm smile and a firm handshake.

"Professor Welt," she said, sitting across from him. "It's so great to meet you. I've been following your videos since the first one. They're... amazing."

"Just Jason," he said, smiling. "Thanks, Mia. Your message was unexpected, but I'm curious. What do you have in mind?"

Mia opened her tablet and pulled up a dashboard filled with graphs, charts, and engagement metrics. "I've been tracking your videos—likes, comments, shares—and the trends are incredible. But more than that, people are recreating your experiments. They're sending you data, asking questions, testing theories. It's not just an audience, Jason. It's a community."

Jason's eyebrows shot up. "You're... tracking all of that?"

Mia grinned. "Of course. I'm good at spotting trends, and what you're doing? It's more than just viral videos. It's a movement. But movements need organization. That's where I come in."

Jason leaned forward, studying the data. "This is... impressive. But how do I turn that into something live?"

"That's where I come in," Mia said confidently. "I can handle the backend—managing the chat, filtering questions, and organizing viewer-submitted data in real time. You focus on the experiments, I'll make sure everything else runs smoothly."

Jason sat down, staring at Mia's tablet as she walked him through her system. She had compiled viewer-submitted data from his videos—frequencies, patterns, even photos of their setups—and created a centralized platform to analyze it all.

"I've already sorted everything into categories," Mia explained. "Water, oil, sand, even one person who used gelatin. The patterns are consistent, but there's variation depending on the medium. With a real-time platform, you could collaborate with your audience directly—test their ideas, share immediate feedback, and track the results in one place."

Jason leaned back, his mind racing. "This is... incredible. But how do we scale this? Managing live questions, data input, and experiments all at once—it's more than I can handle."

"That's why I'm here," Mia said simply. "I can help run the backend. Monitor the chat, filter questions, organize the data as it comes in. You focus on the experiments, I'll handle the rest."

Jason stared at her, equal parts impressed and bewildered. "Why would you want to do this?"

Mia shrugged. "Because what you're doing matters. You're making science accessible. You're making people excited about it. I want to be part of that."

Jason smiled, the first real smile he'd felt since leaving the university. "Alright, Mia. Let's make it happen."

Back at Jason's apartment, the two of them sketched out the logistics for the first livestream. Jason would focus on testing a range of frequencies across different mediums, while Mia would manage the chat and compile viewer suggestions.

"We'll need to make it interactive," Mia said, typing notes on her tablet. "Let the audience feel like they're part of the discovery."

Jason nodded. "Exactly. I want this to feel like a shared journey, not just me talking to a screen."

Mia grinned. "Then let's give them something worth tuning in for."