In my past life, I grew up in the hood, so there were always older guys around the block. The first thing they'd say when they saw you—without even asking your name or how you were doing—was, "Do you want to make money?"
For some reason, when Kurtiz asked Gadeon that same question, it took him back to that moment as Jason, when he had been asked it before. But he had flat-out rejected them, knowing exactly what he would've gotten himself into.
"Should I give you time to think of an answer?" Kurtiz says.
Gadeon clicks his teeth and walks away. I think the world is going mad. How is a ten-year-old kid asking me if I want to make money? Someone like me. If he knew who I was before, he'd want to work for me.
"Don't you want to be your own man?" Kurtiz says with a mischievous grin.
"Pardon?" Gadeon pauses, turning his head back.
"Pardon?" Kurtiz echoes. "You heard me right. Or are you going to say you're not a man yet and still a boy?" His words are deliberate, planting seeds.
"Didn't your parents teach you about respect?" Gadeon says.
"They did—but only towards elders. We're the same age, aren't we?"
This guy is very cheeky. I want to bash his face in, but I've fought too many times today. My body's battered… however, he's a non-flexor like me, so I could probably take him on.
"Is that how you think?" Kurtiz asks.
"Huh? Think like what?" Gadeon says.
"That you want to fight me?"
He can read my mind? Bullshit—who is this kid?
"Now you just said, 'Who am I?' Correct?" Kurtiz reveals.
Gadeon becomes slightly spooked as he takes a step back.
"There's a trick to what you're doing, isn't there? It's probably my face or my body language giving it away. You think I'm a kid who'd believe you can actually read minds?"
"Yep! You're right! The questions I asked you were more like predictions. I could tell from your expressions and the way you clenched your fist that you wanted to fight me, and me guessing that you wanted to know who I am—that was literally dumb luck."
I see. So he's very perceptive.
"But all jokes aside, don't you want to be your own man?"
"I'm already my own man," Gadeon says.
"That's a lie."
"What makes you think I'm lying? Are you going to say you read my mind?"
"No, because during detention I saw you making notes—plans for self-development, as well as ventures—and they all involve money, right?"
"You really don't know how to mind your own business, do you?"
"Information is power. I need to know who you are so this negotiation can work."
"Negotiation? What do you gain from this?" Gadeon asks.
"I'm just sick and tired of the system of this world!" Kurtiz states. "They put pressure on us kids and young people, tell us when to work, what to do—it's all a load of bullshit! I have to wait for a certain age to make money? While I watch my parents suffer? Why?! If I'm capable of working, why can't I work?"
Gadeon is caught off guard by Kurtiz's speech, the passion clear in his tone.
"People like us who can't flex—we have to rely on money, treasures, things of value compared to flexing! That's the only way we can fight! We need to fight from now, as children, gain experience, or if not, when we grow older, our lack of experience will come back to bite us!"
There's no way he's a kid… it's like he's done this before, Gadeon thinks.
"My goal—my dream—is for us to be the odd ones out in this world's system. To be the difference, the trigger. I'm tired of people being fake to themselves! You know it as well, Gadeon, don't you?!"
"Fake?" Gadeon says, which triggers a memory from his past life—Kwame calling him fake in the boxing gym.
"I bet someone has called you fake before, haven't they?" Kurtiz asks.
Gadeon doesn't respond, but Kurtiz continues.
"I'm just tired of that! I'm tired of pretending the world is fine the way it is. The system tells us what to do, makes me feel like the decisions I make are my own—when they're not! I feel fake! I feel like a counterfeit… a counterfeit of the real me!"
"A counterfeit?" Gadeon repeats.
"Yes, I feel like a counterfeit, trying to counter my fate—but it doesn't make sense. That's how I've been living before, until I realised I've got to stop being fake with myself, stop being a counterfeit, and start being the real me! And it starts with one person—that's all it takes—and then someone will follow. Haven't you heard that every 1% leads to 100?"
Kurtiz's powerful words hit Gadeon as he processes them.
"Who says, as young as we are, we can't make money on our own? Don't you agree?"
Flashbacks emerge in Gadeon's mind—young Jason seeing children and young people making money through social media: dancing, singing, pranks, showcasing talents, content creation.
Immediately, Kurtiz grabs Gadeon's shoulders, his eyes filled with ecstasy.
"What was that?!" Kurtiz asks.
"What was what?" Gadeon says, feeling uncomfortable as he begins to sweat.
Kurtiz composes himself, pulling himself together. "Sorry, I was born with an illness that sometimes makes me hallucinate… my bad."
"Oh," Gadeon says, still uneasy.
"So, what do you say? You in?" Kurtiz asks, reaching out his hand.
Gadeon stares at Kurtiz's hand as he thinks to himself. I did say before, if it's nothing to do with drugs or any messed-up things, I'd be more inclined.
The edge of Kurtiz's mouth stretches.
Gadeon then thinks back to detention, when Kurtiz said he'd do anything to achieve his goal—even if it meant dropping his pride or asking for help.
The edge of Kurtiz's mouth stretches further.
I also want to leave Gaedric's home as soon as possible… and what's holding me back is that I can't earn money for myself. With the knowledge from my past life, I could probably take advantage of that and do things my way.
The edge of Kurtiz's mouth stretches even further, showing all his teeth.
Gadeon raises his hand, about to shake Kurtiz's—until—
A memory of him and Gage flashes through his mind.
His hand pauses.
Kurtiz's smile completely fades, his eye twitching in confusion.
It's from the end of their fight—when Gage suddenly hugged him, catching Gadeon off guard.
"WHAT THE HELL?! GET OFF ME!" Gadeon attempted to wrestle himself off, but could no longer summon any strength as he had depleted all of his stamina.
"The technique, you just pulled off? I don't know how you done it, but is that really how the technique is intended to be used?" Gage asked.
"What are you talking about?! The technique is a technique, I used it and it worked! Why are you complainng" Gadeon squirmed, trying to get out from Gage's grip, but his wide arms and claw-like fingers still trapped him.
"Don't you realise what you just pulled off? You were copying my-"
"Duh! It's the Mirror-man technique! And all it took was to be the better version to take you out!"
"Huh?! Do you even hear what you're saying?! Better version? Then I'm better-"
As if Gage had just realised something, he let go of Gadeon, who fell to the ground, catching his breath.
"I'm so sorry… you have truly been through a lot, havn't you?"
"Huh? Is this pity towards me?"
"You may have not had control of your life, but at least now you have the power to plan around it," Gage said, which triggered a memory of detention when Sir Judah was teaching the students the concept of planning—that everyone plans whether they like it or not, whether it's intentional or not.
"But please…" Gage said, a crack forming in his voice as he begged, "You've only got one dad in the world…"
Gadeon's eyes widened as he saw Gage drop to his knees, his face touching the ground.
"…cherish him… because he might not be here forever…"
Gadeon was speechless. He got up immediately, despite having no strength left, as he looked at Gage.
"Also, be careful of Kurtiz, he's a dodgy guy, I don't have evidence but he always seems sus to me"
Back in the present, Gadeon snaps out of his thoughts and sees Kurtiz staring him down, looking very displeased.
"What?" Gadeon says, frowning.
"Nothing. Anyway, I've got to go home, so we'll speak later. I'm expecting an answer from you," Kurtiz says as he walks away.
As he leaves, he continues to ponder to himself. He wasn't kidding when I asked earlier if him and Gage made up and kissed… well, at least he emphasised not doing the kissing part.