persecution.

Raimon sipped from his Coca-Cola while playing with $50,000 per trade in Asian currencies. It was entertaining—leveraging, selling, profiting, and starting over again. By two in the afternoon, he was trading crude oil, clearly enjoying himself, while the person next to him snorted a bit of white powder to stay awake, having barely slept in two days.

– How much have you made? – asked Crazy Lomas, watching Raimon intensely focused, completely absorbed by the numbers flashing on his screen. Raimon laughed maniacally and completed another transaction.

– Twelve million, five hundred and eighty-nine thousand dollars… and counting,– replied Raimon, his head aching.

– Damn,– the man beside him responded.

– I don't want to look at another screen for the rest of my life. It's been two weeks already, – Raimon said, glancing at the calendar next to him. – Thanks for the info. Your contacts are disturbingly accurate—it almost feels like cheating. –

– Hahaha! – laughed Crazy Lomas.

– I think it's because you're a math genius like me. All those values are hypothetical and far from exact, but when combined with other factors, it's possible to make money. The crashes are practically preprogrammed. You need to be careful, though—it doesn't always work, – Lomas commented.

– I see. Next time, I won't be so overconfident! Now I'm heading to California. I've already wrapped up everything here. I need to get back to my job as operations director and, of course, make up for the time I've missed. It's been ages since I attended any forums, – Raimon added, slightly hyper from the sugar rush. He exhaled deeply, feeling his brain overstimulated, and realized he desperately needed a nap.

He had managed to purchase bonds, establish connections with the Bank of America board, revitalize credit portfolios, secure discounts, negotiate a hotel deal in Manhattan, double Billy's stock portfolio, and arrange option contracts for June. Now, there was nothing left to do.

All he could do was hope Rachel would stop glaring at him so threateningly in the coming days. Truthfully, he just wanted to play Dungeons & Dragons with his group. He suddenly remembered he needed to talk to RPG Platforms about Baldur's Gate and its recent developments. The game had already undergone testing on several consoles, but the 2.0 version was set to launch on May 20—very soon. RPG Platforms were founded by Billy to handle Pokémon games, some turn-based titles like Jeanne d'Arc, and the Fate/Series franchise, featuring characters like Arturia, Gilgamesh, and Medusa. These were among the stories slated for upcoming releases. Although Billy thought the graphics left much to be desired, they were still among the best the market could offer at the time.

– I'd like to go, but I hate summer. It's always warm there, – said Lomas.

– Come in December. The weather's more breezy than hot. I'll introduce you to some friends. You know it's not good to stay stuck in one place. The stock market can consume us like nothing else. Sometimes, the trades pull me into the abyss, – Raimon replied, still reflecting on the strange and divergent world of stocks, full of things that could bring anyone to their knees.

***

Taking a break in the afternoon, Billy had spent over six hours practicing lines with Kate. She was trying hard and had improved significantly in her acting skills. For the role in Titanic, she was more than exceptional. He could see how her eyes now blinked with innocence in every take, embodying the idea that Rose had never experienced anything beyond the oppressive seasoning of the upper classes—a life that had trapped her in fairytales.

– Sorry… I'm sorry. But doesn't wearing that tie bother you? My God, just looking at it makes me feel suffocated! Every time I try to breathe, I feel like it acts like a noose, – Kate remarked.

– I've been wearing suits since I was 13, – Billy replied, thinking it might be amusing to some people to see him so accustomed to formal attire. But it had never mattered to him; he carried out his activities focused entirely on himself.

– That doesn't answer my point, – she said, miming the gesture of hanging herself with a noose and sticking out her tongue.

– It's not that bad. I even have enough room to eat. The collar is slightly wider than my neck, – he said, running a finger around the edge of his shirt collar to prove his words true. Perhaps someone unaccustomed to wearing a tie might find it bothersome, but for him, it was comfortable—just a matter of habit.

– Let's keep going; we're almost done, – Kate said, taking a deep breath.

– Come on. For now, let's focus on the ending… the saddest part of the story, – she suggested. Kate had a somewhat biased opinion; she believed Jack was the kind of man who could give Rose a life full of happiness. Arguments would be common, but with Jack by her side, she would be utterly content and devoted.

– Let's not worry about that right now… Let me take you out to dinner, – Billy offered. Having frequented countless restaurants, he knew reservations meant little to someone of his stature. Simply showing up at the door would secure one of the two or three tables reserved for celebrities, or they might even improvise a table for him.

Kate's clear eyes paused, seemingly reading his intentions. At least, that's how it appeared. She nodded as they wrapped up their discussion about the book he was writing based on the screenplay. It was still in the planning stages, but he already had a clear idea of the chapters and how the story would unfold. He intended to use a Game of Thrones format, offering different characters' perspectives in each chapter. It would include six chapters from Jack Dawson, six from Rose, four from Rose's fiancé, four from the Titanic's owner—who insisted on going down with the ship—and both a long prologue and epilogue, focusing on the Titanic's creation and its demise.

No flashbacks. The Titanic would serve solely as the framework, and Cameron would bring the story to life on the big screen.

– Do you think they'll let us in? – Kate asked nervously, noticing the crowd outside. A man organizing the entrance waved them through upon recognizing Billy. A few cameras flashed from a distance, and Billy acknowledged them with a nod, allowing some additional photos to be taken. It was an unspoken rule, and he respected it.

– I can't believe it! It must feel so unfair to people, – Kate said, amused. There was no point in being angry about the minor perks of fame.

– It's no big deal. People find it enjoyable when we're here. It's like dining next to someone you admire. I understand the sentiment. All we have to do is reciprocate with a kind gesture, and the rest doesn't matter, – Billy replied, winking at her.

-Well, I'd rather wait in line—but not outside, – Kate quipped.

...