Monday hit.
Gene showed up at Steven's office at 8 AM sharp, coffee in hand, ready to pretend everything was normal. Steven was already there—of course he was—staring at three monitors displaying charts that made Gene's eyes cross.
"Morning," Steven said without looking up. "David Koh deal fell through."
"What?"
"Got an email at 6 AM. He's going with a Singapore fund instead. Better terms, local connections." Steven finally looked at Gene, and his expression was dark. "We wasted three weeks on due diligence."
"Shit."
"Yeah." Steven stood up, started pacing. "Which means we need to pivot. Fast. I've got two other opportunities but they're both risky. There's a lithium processing operation in Australia—numbers look good but management's a disaster. And there's a recycling tech startup in Shenzhen that's either genius or complete garbage, I can't tell which."
"What do you need from me?"
"Everything. I need you to dig into both of them. Full analysis by Thursday. I've got investor meetings Friday and I need to know which one we're pitching."
"Thursday? That's three days."
"I'm aware." Steven's jaw was tight. "Can you do it or not?"
Gene should've said no. Should've pushed back, set boundaries, done what Mei had warned him about. Instead he heard himself say, "Yeah. I can do it."
"Good." Steven grabbed his jacket. "I'm flying to Shanghai for the day. There's a supplier meeting I can't miss. Files are in your email. Call me if you hit any walls."
And then he was gone, leaving Gene alone in the office with two massive projects and a deadline that felt impossible.
-----
The next seventy-two hours were hell.
Gene barely slept. Tuesday night he passed out at his desk for three hours, woke up with keyboard marks on his face. Wednesday he ordered food delivery twice and couldn't remember eating either meal. Thursday morning he realized he'd been wearing the same shirt for two days and didn't care.
The Australian lithium deal had problems everywhere he looked. Three executives had quit in the last six months. Their environmental permits were being challenged by local communities. The financial projections assumed rare earth prices that hadn't existed since 2021.
The Shenzhen startup was worse—or better, he couldn't decide. The technology was real, the patents checked out, but the founder was a twenty-six-year-old who'd dropped out of grad school and was running the company from his apartment. Could be the next unicorn. Could implode tomorrow.
Gene's phone rang at 2 AM Thursday. Steven.
"Yeah?" Gene's voice was raw from too much coffee and not enough water.
"How's it looking?"
"Bad. The Australian deal is riskier than we thought. Management's a trainwreck, community opposition is serious, and their numbers are fantasy. The Shenzhen thing…" Gene rubbed his eyes. "The tech is solid but the founder's a kid with no business experience. It's a gamble."
"Everything's a gamble." Steven sounded tired. "Which one do you think has more upside?"
"Honestly? Neither. I think we should pass on both and keep looking."
Silence on the other end. Long enough that Gene wondered if Steven had hung up.
"That's not an option," Steven said finally. "I promised the investors we'd have something by Friday. I can't show up empty-handed."
"Then show up with the truth. Tell them the deals aren't worth it."
"You don't understand how this works." Steven's voice had an edge now. "We lose credibility if we keep bringing them nothing. They'll start looking at other funds. We need momentum."
"Momentum built on bad deals is just a faster way to fail."
"Jesus Christ, Gene, can you just trust me on this?"
"I do trust you. That's why I'm telling you these deals are garbage."
Another silence. This one felt different. Heavier.
"Fine," Steven said, and his voice was cold now. "Write up both analyses. Flag all the risks. I'll decide which one to pitch."
"Steven—"
"Just do it, Gene. I need those reports by 10 AM."
He hung up.
Gene stared at his phone, something ugly twisting in his gut. This felt wrong. All of it.
But he opened his laptop and kept working, because what else was he going to do?
-----
He sent the reports at 9:47 AM, then went home and crashed for six hours.
When he woke up, his phone had twelve missed calls from Steven and one voicemail: "We need to talk. Come to the office."
Gene dragged himself there by 6 PM, feeling like death.
Steven was waiting in the conference room, and he looked worse than Gene felt. Dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, shirt wrinkled.
"Sit down," Steven said.
Gene sat.
"I pitched the Shenzhen deal," Steven said. "The investors hated it. Asked me if I'd lost my mind betting on a kid in an apartment. One of them said maybe I needed to 'reassess my judgment.'" He laughed, but it was bitter. "You were right. I should've listened."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Be honest with me—why didn't you push harder? You knew it was wrong."
"I did push. You told me to write it up anyway."
"And you just… did it? No more fight than that?" Steven's eyes were hard. "I thought you had more spine."
Gene felt something snap inside him.
"You want me to have a spine? Fine. You've been working me like a dog for three months. I haven't had a weekend off since I started. I'm exhausted, I'm stressed, and every time I try to push back you make me feel like I'm letting you down. So yeah, I wrote up a report I knew was garbage because you ordered me to and I didn't know what else to do."
Steven stared at him.
"And another thing," Gene kept going, the words pouring out now, "Diana was right. You bet everything on people and then you use them up. Mei tried to tell me but I didn't listen. I thought I was different. I thought I could keep up with you. But you don't want a partner, Steven. You want someone who'll follow you off a cliff and thank you for the opportunity."
"Is that really what you think?"
"Yeah. It is."
Steven stood up, walked to the window, looked out at Taipei's glittering skyline.
"You're right," he said quietly.
Gene blinked. "What?"
"You're right. About all of it." Steven turned around, and he looked exhausted. "I do this to people. I did it to Mei. I'm doing it to Diana. And I've been doing it to you. I tell myself it's because I care, because I'm pushing people to be better. But really I'm just… I don't know how to do this any other way."
"Then learn."
"It's not that simple."
"Yes it is." Gene stood up too, his legs shaking. "You just decide that people matter more than deals. That relationships matter more than momentum. You just… stop."
"And if I can't?"
"Then you're going to end up alone with a very successful fund and nobody who gives a shit about you."
The words hung in the air between them, brutal and true.
Steven's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then put it face-down on the table. "Diana broke up with me this morning."
"What?"
"Said she couldn't do it anymore. The calls at 3 AM, the cancelled plans, showing up to dinners and spending the whole time on my phone." Steven's laugh was hollow. "Said she felt like she was dating my calendar, not me."
Gene didn't know what to say.
"So you're right," Steven continued. "I'm going to end up alone. And the really fucked up part? I don't know if I care enough to change. The work matters more. It always has."
"That's a choice you're making."
"Yeah. It is." Steven picked up his phone. "Take the weekend off. Actually off. Don't check email. I'll figure out the investor situation on my own."
"Steven—"
"Go home, Gene. Before I drag you down with me."
Gene left the office feeling hollow. He walked through Taipei's night streets, past the night markets and neon signs and laughing groups of people living normal lives, and he thought about everything Mei had said. About choosing this. About making sure it was his choice, not just Steven's momentum carrying him.
His phone buzzed. Mei.
*Coffee tomorrow? You look like you need to talk*
*How did you know I look like anything?*
*Lin Yue has spies everywhere. Plus I can feel your crisis from across the city. It's a gift*
Gene laughed despite himself. *Yeah. Coffee sounds good*
*11 AM. My studio. Bring wine, we're skipping the coffee*
When Gene got home, he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked like shit. Exhausted, hollowed out, running on fumes.
But underneath that, he saw something else.
He saw someone who'd finally grown enough spine to tell the truth, even when it hurt.
That was something, at least.