A/N: NEW BOOK NAME! Comment what you think of it 😁

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At 8pm, in my loft, I pace the small area of my bedroom. Wondering about money, about changing the path of my company...a company I dreamt up at 18 years old and gotten funds for from my father. I was young and stupid, only if I had a time machine to warn my past self. Don't take many from dad, he's gonna stop caring about your dream...he's gonna leave you broke.

Why? I hear my younger self ask...

Why indeed, I need that answer myself.

The sounds of the night creep through a window below my loft, adding a meditative vibe and a cool breeze along with the ambience of the city. I keep pacing, my feet going heavier on the floor. My thoughts steer to Jason. What could his savior plan be? Did he start promoting on those other social platforms and get lucky? I should call the bastard. My hand goes to my loose pockets, flared, white pants, and retrieve my phone. I unlock with fingerprint and click on the contacts app, just then, a call flashes across the screen.

My dad name and number.

Oh, so now he returns my calls after days? I take a few seconds, debating on if I should even answer him. I eye the screen with irritation, fed up and butt hurt over being ghosted. Maybe he cares....maybe he was busy and not intentionally avoiding my calls. I go all sappy and believe my current thoughts. I stop pacing and answer.

"Alexis, we need to talk, I have you on speaker with the group." He rough voice informs sophisticatedly.

I place a hand on my hip. "Good, I have a few questions, first for you then for the group."

"Alright, but let's keep this professional." He cautions.

I ignore his wishes. "Why did you support my ideal at 18 if you were just going to back out?"

I hear his low sigh, an uncomfortable tone, and I picture his face of grey hair and silted mouth. "That will be explained when you ask the sponsors, dear."

"My next question, what caused the lost of sponsorship of GroundZero. That's why the meetings are constantly delayed, I'm no idiot." I argue.

"The revenue is below margin, your company produces $1200 a month, that used to be $5000." One of the sponsors, an Asian woman clarifies through the phone.

"This location is no longer thriving, I have no more competitors here to steer up a battle..." I begin, only to be interrupted.

"No, that's not the cause, your marketing strategy of harassing Instagram users through direct messaging is no longer working." An Italian man adds seriously.

"Social media users are hip to scams and are quick to label you as one, even if you're not, just because of how many messages you send users." The Asian woman explains.

"We have invested $50k over the last decade, this will be the second round and we are unsure if the loan will be repaid in full." My dad steers the conversation again.

"This company doesn't harass users we promote using SEO based posts, graphics ads, and keep the Instagram page up to business standards. Direct messaging isn't all my team does." My team meaning Jason, but it sounds better when I call him a team, it gives them more intrest.

"Well, evidently that ethic isn't working suitable, it has nothing to do with your building or your street, I think you've ran the course for GroundZero."

Ran my course, WHAT THE FUCK! My blood boils and my chest heaves. "I can prove you wrong."

"You have no standout models, no golden prizes." The Italian man adds. "And your runway service has yet to come."

"Agreed." My father joins in, "you need star girls, beautiful and striking goddesses, you need to back up your end."

"This time will be different, I was a kid signing the first contract, I'll learn from these mistakes."

"How will you exactly make this time different?" My father interrogates.

"GroundZero will become a runway agency instead of a photo studio. My team has a restructure plan."

"When will this plan be delivered to us." The Asian women lightens her tone, sounding more intrigued than before.

"Soon. No more than two days."

A long silence spreads through the phone, one of curiosity and scrutiny. "Hmm..." My father's deep voice drones. "Well, you have another window, two days, convince us to gift you the funds."

"Deal." I reply confidently, having no clue if anything would happen in two days.

God...Jason, I hope your secret plan is ready in time.