Startup Calls

The Supra's engine growled as Lex shifted gears, the car gliding effortlessly through Manhattan's streets. He didn't bother with the GPS—he knew the city by heart. His father's old philosophy echoed in his mind: buy at the right time, hold for the long game.

It was why the Supra sat beneath him, a sleek relic he kept pristine. It wasn't about flash; it was about understanding value.

Lex pulled up to the modest office building. The Rizz logo glowed faintly on the glass, minimalist and unassuming. He stepped out, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve, and strode inside.

"Lex Latham," Adam said, shaking his hand firmly.

"Adam Lee," Lex replied. "Natalie said you had something interesting."

Adam laughed nervously, motioning to a small conference room. "She oversold it. We're barely treading water."

Lex dropped his coat over a chair, settling in as Adam slid a laptop across the table. Charts, retention rates, and user data filled the screen.

"30,000 active users," Adam began. "Mostly on campuses. But churn is killing us. We've hit a wall."

Lex scanned the data, leaning back. "You're chasing national numbers?"

Adam nodded. "Investors demand it. If we don't scale, we die."

"You're thinking too big," Lex said flatly.

Adam blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Lex gestured to the screen. "Rizz isn't a Tinder killer. It's built for curated spaces. Festivals, colleges, exclusive events, small bars. That's where you thrive. Shrink first. Build loyalty."

"Shrink?" Adam frowned. "Investors won't like that."

"Investors are wrong," Lex countered. "You go national now, you burn out. Niche down, dominate small circles, then expand when your users can't live without you."

Adam rubbed his neck, silent.

Lex tapped the table. "I'll put in $150,000 for 10%. No control, just a board seat. I'll handle marketing partnerships and growth strategy. You focus on the tech."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Why bet on us? Every other investor's passed."

"Because you're ahead of the curve," Lex said simply.

Adam sat back, exhaling. Then, slowly, he extended his hand.

"Deal."

Lex shook it firmly, his smirk barely visible. He exchange contacts and had Adam call Elias first thing Monday morning.

The Supra's engine roared to life again as Lex left. His fingers drummed against the wheel. Next stop: Red Lantern Games.

The Supra's tires rolled to a stop outside a narrow brick building that looked more like a storage unit than an office. Lex stared at it for a moment, the faint scent of motor oil lingering in the cabin. His fingers rested on the steering wheel, his father's voice ringing in his mind: "Don't ignore what looks rough—you're buying the future, not the packaging."

With a deep breath, Lex climbed out, the cool metal of his Supra's door handle snapping him back to focus.

Inside, the Red Lantern Games office was a mess of second-hand desks and mismatched chairs. The hum of a few aging PCs filled the space, accompanied by the faint smell of stale coffee. A half-eaten pizza box sat precariously on one of the tables, surrounded by empty cans of energy drinks.

At the far end of the room, Jack Palmer was deep in battle—not against code, but against a half-eaten bag of gummy worms that dangled from his mouth as he typed with one hand and juggled a game controller with the other.

Lex knocked lightly. "Jack Palmer?"

Jack didn't even glance up. "Boss fight. Gimme a sec."

Lex arched a brow, stepping closer. "Multiplayer raid or just flexing?"

Jack grinned, still focused on the screen. "Solo run. Flexing."

Lex glanced at the monitor—Blood Circuit was in full swing, the main character pulling off a brutal aerial combo that practically screamed for an eSports tournament.

Jack finally hit pause and spun in his chair, pushing his glasses up with his pinky. His hoodie was oversized, sleeves rolled to the elbows like he'd been working for days straight.

"Alright," Jack said, wiping his hands on his jeans."You don't exactly look like a gamer."

Lex chuckled, leaning back. "I'm not. I'm here because I think you've got something worth betting on."

Jack arched a brow, gesturing toward one of the monitors. "You've seen the game? Blood Circuit. Retro-style combat, like Street Fighter meets cyberpunk. The mechanics are solid, but without marketing or streamers, we're dead before we even launch."

Lex followed Jack's gaze to the screen, watching as pixelated characters darted across a neon-lit map, their movements smooth and precise. The gameplay was polished—better than most indie titles.

"How close are you?" Lex asked.

Jack grinned like Lex had just complimented his child. "Damn right it does. We're close to beta."

Lex leaned back in his chair, glancing at the other two screens Jack had set up. One showed a farming sim with robot cows, the other… some kind of tactical mech game.

Lex arched a brow. "Are you… making three games at once?"

Jack shrugged. "Define 'making.' Two are passion projects. Blood Circuit is the one that's eating the rent money."

Lex smirked. "You know that's not sustainable, right?"

Jack grinned wider. "You sound like my mom."

Lex chuckled. "I'm just saying—you're either a genius or one bad day away from total collapse."

Jack scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Eh, probably both."

Lex gestured at the screen. "Natalie says you're running out of cash."

Jack winced. "Yeah… two months, give or take. Maybe three if I sleep under the desk."

Lex leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I'll cover it."

Jack sat up straighter, blinking. "Wait—seriously?"

Lex nodded. "Sixty. But I want 30%. And I'm not just backing the game. I want the IP rights."

Jack's gummy worm fell onto his keyboard. "Thirty? Dude… I can barely finish the game, let alone think about licensing."

Lex grinned, pulling a sleek black card from his coat pocket and sliding it across the table.

Jack eyed it like it might explode. "What's this? You own a film studio or something?"

Lex shrugged. "Not yet. But I do independent, and I can turn Blood Circuit into more than a game. Movie rights, series deals—maybe even merch. I'm thinking long-term."

Jack twirled the card between his fingers, squinting at Lex. "A Blood Circuit movie? Man, I was just hoping to finish level design before the world ended."

Lex smirked. "That's why you need me. You make the game, I build the brand."

Jack thought for a long second before sighing dramatically. "Alright. But if this bombs, I want you to fund my mech-farm sim next."

Lex grinned. "Deal. The robot cows cute."

Lex had barely stepped out of Red Lantern Games when his phone buzzed in his pocket. The glow of Jason Wilde's name flashed across the screen.

Lex smirked, answering as he crossed the street. "Tell me you're not calling to sell me more dusty records."

Jason's voice practically crackled through the speaker. "Lex, you sitting down?"

Lex glanced around. "Walking. Should I be?"

Jason let out a low whistle. "Probably. People are sniffing around the one-hit wonders after Sony close. I sent out a few feelers, and guess what?"

"They bit."

Lex grinned, weaving through the crowd. "Who?"

"Labels. Everyone's chasing retro tracks. It's like they suddenly remembered the '80s exist."

Lex's eyes narrowed slightly."How much interest are we talking?"

Jason laughed softly. "Enough that I'm worried you'll start wearing expensive suits."

Lex stopped at the corner, leaning casually against a lamppost. "Don't get ahead of yourself. How many tracks are they asking for?"

"Ten. I counter with six, should be good."

Lex tapped his fingers on the pole. Sell too much, and you kill the market. Hold too long, and the heat fades.

"Fine," Lex said. "Send them samples. Five tracks max."

Jason chuckled. "Great"

Lex slipped his phone into his coat pocket, the hum of the city swirling around him.

Barnie chased mergers. Lex was moving the pieces on the board