Power Stone Goals from now on: I always post a minimum of 5 chapters. Henceforth the following are the goals:
Every 150 powerstones, I upload an extra chapter.
If we hit top 30 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we hit top 10 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we are top 5...well lets get to that first. Happy readings!
Chapter 6: Sam Halloway
According to the memories that came with this version of my life, I didn't have a shift scheduled at McDonald's today, which gave me a rare stretch of uninterrupted time.
I decided to make the most of it by committing the entire afternoon and evening to a deep dive into the entertainment landscape of this world. The laptop was slow, but functional, and with enough patience, I could get what I needed.
As I began browsing and compiling notes, it didn't take long for me to realize something quite important.
Because I had been sent backward in time, there were substantial investment opportunities available to me, ones that I already knew the outcome of. It was like playing a game with the guidebook in hand.
And while there were certainly differences in how this timeline progressed, much of it was close enough to what I remembered to be actionable.
Of course, one obstacle was that I was now living in the United States, while my past career and experience as a lawyer had been based in London. That difference in geography added some complications, especially when it came to things like qualifications and certification.
Still, the possibilities were there. I already had a detailed understanding of corporate law, contract structuring, and compliance. With that kind of background, it might be possible to set up businesses or consult on legal matters here—though it would take some careful planning and maybe a little help from people who had already earned their licenses.
That said, becoming a lawyer in America was considerably more difficult than it had been in the UK, at least in terms of educational pathways.
In the UK, one could typically complete an undergraduate law degree and proceed straight into professional practice with the appropriate certification, which ended up taking about 2 years.
Here, in the US, the path required earning a bachelor's degree followed by a Juris Doctor, which was a three-year commitment on its own. That didn't even account for the bar exam.
Right now, I am technically eighteen years old. Even if I planned to revisit the legal field, it would be some time before I could qualify, unless I found a shortcut or some alternate route to credibility.
It wasn't something I needed to solve immediately. It was just one option among many.
So, I turned my focus back to the present and the most actionable opportunity in front of me: financial investment. Specifically, I started thinking about the early stages of Bitcoin. This was 2010. Bitcoin had only just emerged, and its value was so low it barely registered on traditional financial platforms. I remembered clearly that back in 2009, it had been launched, and most people hadn't paid it much attention. But I also remembered what happened decades later. Where I came from—in the year 2040—Bitcoin had reached nearly $900,000 per coin.
At the time I had come from, digital currency was fully embedded in everyday life. Wallets were virtual, transactions were instantaneous, and Bitcoin was considered one of the primary stores of value across the globe.
And right now, in this timeline, it was valued at barely a cent. That discrepancy opened a huge door.
If I were to invest just $1,000 at this point, and each coin was worth $0.01, I could secure 100,000 Bitcoin. Fast forward a few decades, and that same holding would be worth around 90 billion dollars.
That number seemed almost too large to process, but it was real—real based on everything I had seen, read, and experienced.
And that was just one investment.
I also knew which companies would rise in the entertainment space, which studios would acquire which properties, and even which TV shows would become cultural phenomena. I knew the arcs of successful franchises, the timing of major acquisitions, and the right moments to buy into tech firms that hadn't yet launched their major products.
It was more than just familiarity. It was a comprehensive view of the playing field. The kind of view that people would pay enormous sums to access, if they could.
The best part was that once the initial investments were made, I wouldn't have to work especially hard to maintain that wealth. With the right planning, the money would continue to generate returns on its own. It wouldn't mean I'd stop acting or chasing personal goals. But it would give me freedom.
That, more than anything, was what excited me the most.
"Yo Jace, you home?" a voice called out as the door to my apartment opened with a soft creak.
The voice was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, which was becoming a common sensation for me.
It took a moment to adjust, to remind myself that I had a life here, memories here, even if they didn't entirely feel like my own yet. This identity shift was still something I was slowly growing into.
"Yeah, I'm here. What's up?" I replied from the table, glancing over my shoulder.
"Nothing much. I brought dinner," he said casually, setting down a plastic bag filled with takeout boxes that smelled unmistakably like Chinese food.
This was Sam. Sam Halloway, to be precise. One of the few people in this version of my life who I could call a true friend.
We had known each other since high school. His path hadn't been an easy one. Kicked out by his parents before he had even finished school, he'd been working ever since, scraping together enough to pay rent, cover food, and keep going.
His grades had understandably suffered during that time, but no one could ever accuse him of not putting in the effort.
Eventually, Sam managed to afford a place of his own—this apartment—and when I mentioned that I wanted to move out and be independent, he was the one who offered to let me move in.
It wasn't because I had a bad relationship with my family.
Quite the opposite. I loved them deeply. But there was something in me that needed to know what it meant to live without the safety net, to make decisions, take risks, and even fail without someone there to clean it up. I wanted to grow. And Sam understood that.
More than that, he believed in me. When I told him I wanted to become an actor, he didn't laugh or shrug it off.
He took it seriously.
He even helped me land a job at the McDonald's where he worked. He had already been there long enough to earn a promotion to manager, which was rare for someone his age.
At eighteen, most people were just starting part-time jobs. He was already running the place. I respected that a lot.
"Thanks, man," I said as I made my way to the kitchen counter and grabbed some chopsticks.
He took a seat and looked over at me. After a second or two, he paused and narrowed his eyes slightly.
"You look a bit different," he said. Then he corrected himself. "No, not look. You feel different."
I froze for a moment, just enough to notice it myself. Of course Sam would be the first to pick up on something like that.
He knew me better than most.
"Same as always," I replied, doing my best to keep my tone even.
He didn't press further. Instead, he pulled out the takeout containers and started placing them on the table.
"So how was the audition?" he asked as he passed me a box.
"It went well. Actually, they called me back for a second one."
He nodded, clearly impressed. "Damn. That's good. Good shit."
We both started eating, and for a while, there wasn't much conversation. It wasn't an awkward silence, though.
It was the kind of quiet that came from comfort, from familiarity. We didn't need to fill the air with words. The presence alone was enough.
After everything that had happened—the sudden shift into a new reality, the disorientation, the acting system, the blurred lines between roles and identity—this simple moment grounded me. Sharing a meal, exchanging a few words, just existing side by side with someone who didn't expect anything more than honesty.
Back in my old life, these moments had become increasingly rare. I had spent years surrounded by documents, driven by deadlines, working in a firm that rewarded performance but didn't value connection.
Meals were often taken alone, rushed, sandwiched between tasks. The constant chase for results had left little space for something as ordinary, and necessary, as dinner with a friend.
Here, in this quiet apartment with its worn furniture and faded walls, I found something that had nothing to do with money or success.
The weeks passed quickly, and before I had fully realized it, three full weeks had already slipped by since I first found myself trying to adapt to this new reality.
It was strange to think about where I had come from—a senior associate in one of London's most respected law firms, part of the financial elite, navigating boardrooms and legal negotiations with a practiced ease.
And now, here I was, working shifts at McDonald's, putting every ounce of energy I had into chasing a lead role in a teenage supernatural romance show.
It wasn't lost on me—the irony of it. More than once, I found myself lying in bed at night, staring at the cracked ceiling above, muttering to myself, "How the mighty have fallen."
Yet, despite everything, I didn't find myself wanting to trade what I had now for what I once had. Wealth, status, and financial power were valuable—I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the comfort and ease that came with them.
Life was undoubtedly more convenient when I had money, when things didn't come down to scraping together enough change to make rent or budgeting carefully to afford a bus pass.
But time has a way of revealing what truly matters. Having lived both extremes, I could say with certainty: being surrounded by people who cared, even when you had almost nothing, was worth more than any sum in a bank account.
If you asked me whether I'd rather be broke and surrounded by my family or rich and alone, I wouldn't hesitate. I'd choose the first without question.
These days, I was living paycheck to paycheck. Rent wasn't cheap, and I refused to let Sam shoulder the burden of all our living expenses.
He already did enough. Between food, utilities, transportation, and the added costs of attending auditions, every dollar had to be planned and stretched. It wasn't easy. Some days were more stressful than others.
But the weight of it felt lighter somehow, because I wasn't facing it on my own. I had Sam.
Evenings like this one reminded me why that mattered. We were both seated on the floor of the living room, a second hand chessboard between us. It was something I'd recently been trying to get him into—a small project of mine to bring a new hobby into our shared space.
Sam was skeptical at first, but he had a natural sense of competition, and it didn't take long before he started taking it seriously.
I had just moved my knight, hoping to bait out his bishop, when my phone buzzed against the table nearby. The sound was jarring in the quiet of the apartment, cutting through the light clack of chess pieces and the low hum of the fridge.
I reached over and glanced at the screen, not recognizing the number immediately. Still, I had learned quickly that in this world, unlisted numbers sometimes meant opportunity.
"Hold that move," I said to Sam, lifting the phone and pressing it to my ear.
"Hello?"
...
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator