[Hyde POV]
The next day arrived pretty quickly. Kelso came to the school with a black eye, and Jackie fawned over him, gushing with concern.
Donna stared at him dangerously, which made him flinch a couple of times.
"And then, the big strong biker man didn't want to let go of the girl." Kelso said while touching
his black eye.
" I helped her, you know, cause I'm a gentleman. I skillfully fought him off and
won!" He said excitedly.
"So how did you get the black eye?" I asked.
Kelso said nervously, "I hit my head on a pole on the way out."
"Aww you poor baby." Jackie leaned in and hugged Kelso affectionately.
"That's so dangerous, and it showed me that you're a protector. You'll be able to protect me from
dangerous guys. That's so hot Michael."
Jackie was a bit turned on. Donna rolled her eyes as she heard Kelso's rendition of the story.
The true story was that the black eye was from Donna punching Kelso in the face yesterday.
I ate the lunch Mrs. Forman packed for me. We were sitting at the cafeteria table together when
Tiffany, the girl who got lucky and entered my tv show, approached me.
"Hello Steven." She greeted me, stopping short in front of the table, her body giving a small
bounce as if she hadn't quite bled off her momentum.
"Hi." I replied casually.
She grinned and said, "Can I sit here?"
"Sure."
She sat in front of me, which made Fez quite excited.
"Steven, can I ask about the first episode? Like, how… did it… I mean, was it successful?" She
leaned forward, inching her hands towards mine.
"It is very successful!" Jackie interjected. "It aired in Green Bay, Madison and Kenosha. Even
Sheboygan too."
"Oh! That's wonderful!" Tiffany clasped her hands together and leaned her head back, looking
upwards, "Thank you Lord. I've fulfilled my dream now to be on TV!"
I stared at her blankly. Tiffany breathed out with relief, and turned to me again.
"Steven, thank you for the wonderful opportunity. Everywhere I go, people keep commenting on my car."
"You're welcome."
She drove a beige 1974 VW Beetle. In the first episode, I began with her car first since it was
pretty easy to mod.
I rebuilt the way it breathed and moved. A dual carburetor setup, an electronic fuel pump, new
shocks, tighter suspension geometry.
I added sound deadening under the carpet, upgraded the brakes, and gave it slightly wider tires so
it wouldn't feel like it wanted to tip over every time she turned.
I even dropped the front bumper an inch and a half, just enough to change the stance without making it impractical.
She reacted pretty well to the new car performance which was good for the tv show. I made her drive it, with me beside her, and Eric filming the reaction from the backseat.
In the show, it showed her before and after the feeling of driving the car.
Tiffany has a lot of airtime, and in the end, we were discussing how to make it look good now that
it has felt good.
I asked her about her favorite things, what she wanted the car to look like, and the episode ended
before I showed the audience how the car turned out to be after the new paint.
"Will it be fine for me to be driving it around?" She was being flirty, touching my hand slightly.
I smiled and said, "Yeah man. It's your car. Use it however you like." She giggled for a few
seconds, doing a little excited dance.
Then, another woman approached me. A high school senior.
She was Tiffany's friend, had hair like Marilyn Monroe, and wore an elegant dress with satin gloves
too. Pearl necklace around her neck, and a bow on the back of her dress.
It was as if she was just getting back from a luxurious dinner party. However, the people in school
were already numb to it.
"Steven Hyde, why don't you come take a look at the drama club after school? That way, Tiff can
show you her appreciation."
"What?" I was taken aback.
"Ophelia?" Tiffany was confused and startled by her presence.
The girl smiled at me and reached out her gloved hand, "Hi. Ophelia Hawthorne. The drama club's
lead actress. I'm born to be loved by the ca-me-ra."
"Hi, I'm… bored." I said and stood up from the table.
Ophelia followed me from behind and asked urgently, "What's it going to take?"
Donna interjected, stopping Ophelia as I walked away. It wasn't the first time this happened, so
Donna already knew what to do.
"He's busy. He has a lot of cars to work on." Donna blocked Ophelia with her entire body.
Jackie laughed, saying, "She's like a girl linebacker."
I left school in a hurry and went to the autoshop, driving a 70' Chevelle.
After the episode aired, I have received several requests from VW enthusiasts around Wisconsin to
modify their cars.
It cost $1000 per car without the paint, therefore only the richest enthusiast did it. The labor
cost was around 200 bucks since it was a day's work.
The normal car owner couldn't get the full modification, but they did ask to put sound deadening in the cars.
I didn't even need to be there at the autoshop since Megan could handle the modification herself.
I parked the Chevelle outside of the car and thought to myself, 'This car is growing on me.'
Tyrell had just put in new windows for my Nova when I arrived. The window that was broken by the
Jet's dealership owner was replaced.
The head foreman approached me and said urgently, "Mr Hyde. It finally happened."
I was taken aback, and grinned when I heard what he had to say. "A custom made order. From Bill
Walton."
"What kind of car does he want?" I asked with a worried expression.
"A performance car that fits him. Oh, and it shouldn't be too loud." Tyrell said excitedly. He was a
fan of Walton, so he was quite excited for the basketball player to come to the shop.
"When?" I asked.
"In three months." He replied.
"Hmm…" I thought about it and said, "1972 Chevelle SS, custom tall people build, and we'll upgrade the chassis, the engine, and the interior. All for 45,000 dollars."
"Fourty-five?!" Tyrell was shocked.
I smirked and said, "Believe me. The performance will be even better than the Ferraris. And tell
him that, if he didn't like it, he didn't have to buy it."
"... Are you sure?" Tyrell was nervous.
He knew that the custom build would take a lot of money from me. If the car wasn't sold, then I
might suffer a tremendous loss.
"Oh yeah. It'll be fun." I said with a smirk.
I began ordering the parts from a high-end restomod company called RoadsterShop, the kind that
builds custom chassis to make old muscle cars ride like modern imports.
The base Chevelle chassis alone was $15,000, but that was just the skeleton. I paid another $3,500
to have it fully powder-coated so it would never rust, then upgraded it piece by piece.
$6,000 for modern front and rear brakes, $4,000 for the independent-style suspension and coilovers, $3,000 for a Ford 9-inch rear axle with heavy-duty axles, plus steering, mounts, crossmembers, and hardware.
By the time everything was reinforced, aligned, and built to handle real power, the chassis alone
had climbed to $30,000.
I added an $8,000 LS engine from another shop. Quiet, smooth, reliable, and far more refined than an original SS engine. It also has 500 hp compared to the stock 396hp.
Because this car was for a seven-foot-tall NBA star, not a drag strip so I bought a quieter exhaust
system and engine.
Interior modifications, wheels, tires, electronics, and integration parts pushed the total to
$60,000 in 2025 money.
In 1977 terms, that was only $12,000, and the multiplier was doing me a lot of favors. Now all I
needed was the hardest part of the build. An actual Chevelle SS body worth putting all of this
under.
I contacted my rich customers' associates, and found one I could pick up today. However, it was
from a dealership in Arizona.
"So, who wants to go to Arizona for a road trip?" I asked. No one was raising their hands.
"Damn, so I need to go there myself."
I'll pretend to go there by car, but actually go to the airport, fly to Arizona, put the car inside
my system, and fly back home.
"That means, I can have three days of free time. Hopefully, I can get Red's permission for this."
…
That evening, at the driveway. I was playing basketball with Eric, Donna and Fez after dinner when
Fez asked, "Are you not going to see your girlfriend?"
"She's coming over to hang out." I replied. "She's out with friends first."
Eric smirked, lazily bouncing the basketball between his legs. "So like… you and Brooke. Are you
guys serious?"
"I guess."
I snatched the ball from him and launched it at the hoop. It bounced off the rim. Donna caught the
rebound cleanly.
She jumped and slammed it through, landing hard and flashing Eric a thumbs-down.
Eric barely reacted. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You guess? Did you guys do it yet?"
"Eric. Gross." Donna scowled, but she drifted closer anyway, arms folded, eyes sharp with
curiosity. "So?"
I exhaled through my nose and said it fast, knowing there was no escaping it. "We did it."
Donna froze mid-step. Her face twisted. "Oh my god! In less than a month!?"
Eric's mouth fell open, then curled into a grin. "You're my idol, Hyde." He laughed, then abruptly
got serious. "Teach me."
"Teach me too." Fez blurted, hands clasped together. "I don't want to die a virgin like Eric."
"Hey!" Eric jerked upright.
Donna's cheeks flushed. She waved a hand dismissively. "He's not going to die a virgin."
"I'm not?" Eric grinned.
Donna shoved the back of his head. "Shut up."
I grimaced at the stupid couple and turned to Fez. "You must've been pretty lonely when I'm not
around."
"I am lonely," Fez said quietly, shoulders slumping, like he might actually cry. "We'll find you a
girl, buddy." I patted his arm.
Then I said, casually, "You know, I saw something weird yesterday. Borderline creepy."
All three of them leaned in at once.
"What did you see?" Donna asked.
"Brooke and I were at the library after closing," I said, "acting out some kinky librarian fantasy,
when the library director—"
"Wait." Eric shot up, palms raised. "You acted out a librarian fantasy?"
"Yes." I smirked and tapped my ear. "Listen, Forman."
Donna's face turned bright red. Fez gasped, one hand flying to his chest as he started breathing way too fast.
"So we saw the library director paying two crackwhores to, like, back it up on him, and twerk on
his—"
I was mid-gesture, slapping the air crudely, when I froze. Mrs. Forman had stepped out through the
sliding door.
"Steven," she asked, peeking her head curiously, "What are you doing?"
I snapped my hands into a different position and pretended to bounce an invisible basketball.
"Uh—showing Eric a new way to dribble."
She narrowed her eyes at me, then turned to Fez. "Fez, your host parent wants you home."
"Okie." Fez said, grabbing his jacket and leaving immediately.
Brooke arrived just as Fez disappeared. She covered my eyes from behind. "Guess who?"
"Well," I said, "considering there's an old book smell on your fingers, and your boobs are gently
pressing into my back, I'm gonna say… Brooke?"
She slapped my back lightly as she laughed and pulled her hands away.
Donna smirked. "You two are really close, huh?"
Eric chuckled. "Brooke, Hyde was just telling us about the creepy stuff that happened to you guys
yesterday."
Brooke stiffened. Her eyes went wide. "You told them I said 'I love you'?" Her voice jumped an
octave. "And you called it creepy?"
"What—no!" Eric spun toward Donna. "He was talking about the crackwhores and your boss—"He froze.
"You said I love you?!" Donna's jaw dropped.
Brooke's mouth opened, then shut. Her pupils jittered as if she didn't know where to look.
Eric turned to me slowly. "Man… didn't you guys date for like a month?" "Tomorrow it'll be a
month," I said.
Eric's brain visibly short-circuited. "Like—how—like—she said it first—like—what did you even do—"
Donna smacked the back of his head to reboot him.
"Oh!" Mrs. Forman reappeared, beaming. "Who is this tall drink of sunshine?"
"Mrs. Forman," I said, "this is Brooke. My girlfriend."
Brooke visibly relaxed at the interruption. She straightened, shook Mrs. Forman's hand properly.
"Hello, I'm Brooke Rockwell."
"Oh, Steven," Mrs. Forman teased, grinning. "She's very beautiful."
Brooke smiled, still pink, but steadier now.
Donna suddenly grabbed Brooke by her shoulder and said, "I'm sorry Mrs Forman, but I need to borrow Brooke for just one minute."
I turned to her, shocked, "Wait. Donna. We need to go out now if we want to bowl."
"Just five minutes! No, ten!" Donna said with a poker face and dragged Brooke to her house.
I sighed and said, "We're not going to bowl today, aren't we?" Eric laughed and said, "Well– No."
…
That night, we didn't go bowling.
Donna and Brooke talked, and Donna shared the same stupid advice Jackie gave her when Donna told Forman she loved him. I remembered that day. He hit her back with, 'I Love Cake', instead of 'I
love you too'.
So, Brooke was punishing me by avoiding me for about a week. She didn't even want to celebrate the one month anniversary together.
"So, Red. I have received a custom order from Bill Walton." I told him early the next morning.
Red froze and a smile grew on his face. "Really? What kind of car does he want?"
"A custom Chevelle SS. But I need to pick the car up from Arizona. I already found one in really
good condition."
"A true American car! I know Bill is a good patriotic man." Red guffawed.
"Arizona?" Kitty's fork paused halfway to her mouth. "Arizona Arizona? The desert Arizona?"
"I'm hoping I can go pick it up myself." I said carefully.
Her head snapped toward Red instantly. "No, he can't go to Arizona. Red, tell him he can't go."
Red leaned back in his chair, clearly torn. "How exactly are you planning to do that?"
"Fly there," I said. "Then drive the car back." Eric's eyes went wide. "That's like—three days."
"And you'll be alone?" Donna asked, already worried.
"Yeah. Everyone at the shop's got families. Plus, if I'm there in person, I can really check the
car."
"You cannot go!" Kitty shot to her feet, hands braced on the table. "That's far too dangerous!"
Red stared down at his coffee for a long moment, thinking. Then he sighed. "Alright," he said. "You
can go."
"RED!" Kitty slammed her hand down, rattling plates and silverware.
"Kitty," Red said firmly, "it's not like he's Eric. Steven actually knows how to take care of
himself."
I nodded and said, "That's true."
Eric threw his hands up. "Why am I catching strays at breakfast?!"
I laughed. "Mrs. Forman, didn't you say you wanted me to relax?"
"Yes—but not like this," Kitty said, wringing her hands. "A trip. Alone. So far—"
"Which is better?" I asked gently. "Me working so hard I pass out again, or me driving across the
country with nothing to do but think and breathe?"
She hesitated, clearly losing the argument.
Red folded his arms. "Kitty, he's almost eighteen. Hell, he could move out tomorrow if he wanted
to. The kid's grown up."
Kitty looked at me, worried, proud, and helpless all at once. "…Just call," she said quietly."Every day."
I nodded. "I will."
I went to Brooke's house to tell her about it. She has a day off on Tuesday so I didn't need to go
to the library.
As I got there, I heard her arguing with her mother. I knocked on the door regardless.
Brooke opened it and was confused. "Steven? I told you I'm avoiding you for a week."
"I know, but I have to tell you that I'm going to Arizona, so I'm not going to be back for about
five days."
"Huh?" Brooke was taken aback. "Come inside." She pulled my hand and dragged me to the living room.
Her mother threw her hands up as she saw me. "Great. He's here again. Have you two had no self
control?"
"Brooke. I'm sick of this. Didn't you tell your mother about what I do?" I said, a little annoyed.
Her mother got curious. "What? Is there something more about your job as a mechanic? Brooke~! Are there things you're not telling me?"
"Well, I don't want to tell you." Brooke said, pretending toughness. "Steven is actually a very
famous person around the town."
"I'm sorry? Brooke, even if a small town mechanic is famous, he's not going to–"
"Steven. I don't want to tell her." Brooke turned to me, interrupting her mother.
"It's fine." I said warmly to Brooke and turned to the mother, "I'm a nobody. Just a small town
mechanic."
"Anyway, what are you here for?" Caroyln asked coyly.
"We should talk outside." Brooke dragged me away.
"First you drag me in, then out… make up your mind." I teased. We sat inside my Nova and talked
instead.
"I know that you're mad I didn't tell my mother about you, but you need to understand. She's a
manipulative bitch."
"Wow." I gasped, smiling slightly, taken aback by her strong words.
Brooke blushed in embarrassment and said, "She got inside people's heads, and brought the worst in them. That's why I didn't stay with them in Chicago."
I nodded in understanding and brushed her hair behind her ear as it was covering her face. "So, I
guess it's good that I'm leaving for five days?"
"It can be good, if she keeps staying. It would be bad if she left right away. Then, I'm going to
miss you for five days."
"Didn't you just say you're going to be avoiding me for a week?"
"Of–Of course, I'm still going to see you. That's just a bluff."
I laughed and teased her a bit. She acted coy and nudged her body against mine.
"Hey, before I leave, I want to give you something." I took out a small wooden box from my pocket.
Brooke widened her eyes as she saw it. "Steven– What's this?"
"I guess you're right. Your mother did get inside my head. I kept thinking about diamonds since she told me about them."
She gasped, covering her mouth as she saw the diamond earring shining underneath the moonlight.
It was the size of a pencil eraser, 1 carat in total, and made with 18ct gold for the studs. It
looked elegant, and the lab grown diamond was pretty cheap and indiscernible from diamonds in the 1970s.
It cost a fraction of a price too. I got that for 800 bucks in 2025, which was around 160 bucks in
1977.
Brooke touched the jewelry with shivering eyes. "Diamond earrings? This– Steven, this is too much."
Her face wasn't what I expected. She was filled with fear and concern instead of enjoying it.
"What's wrong Brooke? You don't like the present?" I asked.
"I…" Brooke went silent for a bit, and then said, "I think we need to break up."
I froze for about a full minute. "I'm sorry. What?"
"Steven… I love you because you were you," she said. "Because you didn't care what people thought. Because you didn't try to impress anyone."
"And what scares me," she continued, voice shaking just a little, "is that now… everyone sees you
as something to cash in on. Including my own mother."
"That's not my fault," I said defensively.
"I know," she said immediately. "That's the worst part."
She opened the box again, stared at the earrings one last time, then closed it and held it out to
me.
"I can't do this," she said. "If I stay with you, everything becomes about what you can give me.
What you can pay for. What you can solve."
I swallowed. "Brooke, I wasn't trying to—"
"I know," she interrupted gently. "You weren't trying to control me. That's who you are. But
Steven. I want to be independent and follow my dreams. You made me want to settle down and have children with you."
"And… that's bad?" I was confused.
"Do–Do you want that too?" She asked me sincerely.
I thought about it and shook my head.
Her tears fell and her voice cracked up, "See. You're not ready either. And we're going to make a
really huge mistake if we keep going out together."
"So, like. This is it? We're done?" I asked her with a slightly defeated tone.
She touched my face affectionately and said, "I'm sure if someday fate brought us together again,
it will be a time where both of us are finally ready for where this relationship might take us."
I paused, thoroughly confused inside. I knew that people in the 70s were romanticists, but this
situation here was borderline absurd, wasn't it?
Brooke wanted to get out of the car, but I grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Well, if you're done
talking, can you hear me out first? Like what I have to say?"
She realized she had been going on and on one-sidedly, then blushed in embarrassment and sat back down.
I sighed.
"I'm not going to tell you to take me back," I said. "But I am going to tell you something else.
Something you might resent me for."
Brooke's heart began to race. "What is it?" she asked quickly. "Did you cheat on me?"
"What—no!" I replied at once. "This is about fate, and the future crap you've been babbling about."
"Oh…" She hesitated, then asked again, quieter, "Like… what is it?"
"Brooke," I said firmly, "you need to go to college. Soon. As soon as you can. And you need to stop
staying in this town."
"Excuse me?" she snapped. "What—what about—"
"Your librarian career," I continued. "You said it yourself. If you get a proper librarian degree,
you can get a better position. You should do it now instead of wasting two more years stuck here."
Her expression hardened. "Steven. Are you trying to chase me away?"
I nodded. "I am. But not because of the breakup. Because it's the best thing for you."
I leaned toward her. "Look. You do have plans to go to college. You're just working to save money
for the fees, right?"
She nodded slightly.
"Use this," I said, placing the diamond earring in her palm.
"Steven!" she snapped, immediately annoyed.
"Listen to me first," I said, holding up a hand to stop her. "I'm ashamed to admit it, but the last
time I bought something for a girl, it didn't go well. So if you reject this, I'm not returning it.
I'll just throw it away so I don't have to think about it again."
"You—"
She stopped herself, eyes blazing now. Her glare turned downright murderous.
"Listen to me fully first," I said, cutting her off again.
"What I'm saying is this gift is meant for you," I said more softly. "If it's not for you, then
it's worthless to me—or anyone else."
"Oh."
Her voice softened, understanding finally breaking through.
"What I'm trying to say, Brooke," I continued, "is that fate works in a strange way. Maybe what it
was trying to do… was let me give this earring to you. Not as love. But as a tool for your
freedom."
"That—" Her eyes trembled, and I realized I had finally broken through her guard. I had to speak her language, only then would she accept it.
I leaned in and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, and tears slid down her cheeks.
"So keep it," I said quietly. "Sell it. Do whatever you want with it. Then go to college as soon as
you can. Don't wait here anymore."
At that moment, a thought crossed my mind.
In the future, Brooke would get pregnant with Kelso's child. They wouldn't get married, and she
would be forced to move back to Chicago with her mother.
I didn't know if she ever managed to chase her dreams after getting accidentally knocked up at a
Molly Hatchet concert.
I only knew that whatever chance she had, it would be much harder then. So she has to leave town,
before she gets dragged into the plot, like me.
Brooke finally calmed down and asked softly, "What… like, if I wanted to sell it, where would I even
do that?"
I smiled, unable to hide it. The look on my face made her relax completely. She was testing me one
last time, checking if I meant what I said.
"I don't really know," I admitted. "But I know someone who might." I started the car, "Why don't we
go see her?"
…
I brought Brooke to Jackie.
After thirty minutes of berating Kelso for not buying her diamonds, she checked my certificate of
authenticity, which I faked saying it was a diamond from 20 years ago.
"Where did you get it from?" Jackie asked excitedly.
"A customer of mine with a diamond shop. He sells it cheap since he wants me to move his
appointment date to next week instead of three months later." I said half-truth here.
Someone actually did try to bribe me with stuff to move their appointments. I rejected them though.
"Oh! That's wonderful!" Jackie said excitedly. "This thing is really amazing! It's a premium cut.
We're going to see what it's really worth, right now!"
I drove us to the mall, where Jackie dragged Brooke into a jewelry shop that Jackie spent every
weekend in. Everyone there already knew her.
Kelso didn't come, cause he would be in major trouble if he did.
"Oh, it's you again." The jeweller, a tall, thin guy with white hair and a monocle smiled at
Jackie.
"This time, I want to check something." She gave the diamond earring to the man.
The appraiser disappeared into the back and returned with a small velvet pad and a pair of pale
satin gloves. He slipped them on carefully, like the earrings might bruise if he touched them wrong.
He lifted one stud with tweezers and brought his loupe to his eye.
"Huh," he murmured with a slight surprise. He tilted the diamond, rotating it under the fluorescent
light. The stone flashed sharply, throwing a clean white glint instead of the soft haze most mall
diamonds had.
"This cut is… very precise," he said slowly. "No dead spots. No milkiness." He checked the second
earring, brows knitting together.
"D–E color," he muttered. "At least. And VS clarity, minimum."
Jackie smirked. "Minimum?"
He cleared his throat. "You don't usually see stones this clean come through here. Especially
matched pairs."
He set them down gently, almost reluctantly.
"Whoever bought these didn't bargain-shop," he said. "These were chosen." Brooke's hands tightened in her lap.
After a moment, he folded his gloves and said, "I can offer nineteen hundred dollars. Cash. That's seventy percent of market value."
Jackie laughed under her breath. "That's generous of you. But we're not selling it. So tell us the
real price."
"Are you sure you're not selling?" He asked again, seemingly reluctant to part with it.
"Yeah! We're not. Tell us the real price."
"Alright. It's around twenty five to twenty seven." The jeweler gave up.
Jackie gasped and turned to Brooke and me. Her eyes teased me, as if saying 'Locking her down, huh?'.
Brooke's eyes shook and she turned to me. "Steven. That's so expensive. How much did you buy it
for?"
"Not telling. So, are you selling it?" I asked her casually.
"I… uh…" She was hesitant to answer.
"What– Why– Why are you selling it?" Jackie asked with a high pitched voice. She gasped and teased, "Do you want a more expensive one? Maybe a ring?"
I grimaced at Jackie. Brooke spat out bitterly, "No. We've broken up."
"Broken up– WHY!?" Jackie was shocked.
"That's not something for a child to know about." I said with annoyance.
She gasped, fully offended. Then, she realized something. "Wait, if you're selling the earring, I
can buy it."
"Nope. I'm not going to let you wear it, ever."
"Not for me. It's for my aunt's 50th birthday party next week. My dad is asking me to look for a
gift for her. I need to ask him first, but I think he'll let me buy it."
"Oh." Brooke exclaimed flatly, clutching the earring box in her hand. "Um… Let me think about it
first."
I checked my watch and said, "Brooke. I need to get to the airport in three hours. I'll send you
guys home first."
"Why are you going to the airport?" Jackie asked me. But I kept quiet.
"ANSWER ME!" She yelled.
(Read till chapter 90 on my patreon.
Patreon.com/relifewithkarmicgacha)