Chapter 49 – The Pulse of Progress
The office buzzed with energy—not the panicked kind, but a steady, focused rhythm.
It was Monday morning, and FaceWorld HQ felt more like a mission control center than a tech startup. Today marked the beta launch of the FacePhone in three major cities: Los Angeles, New York, and Tokyo. Ten thousand units. Thousands of users logging in at once. And so far? No major issues.
Jake sat at the head of the conference table in the command room, eyes glued to a wall of live metrics. Activation rates were climbing fast. Syncing was flawless. Battery performance looked solid. Every alert light was green.
"Tokyo just hit 92% activation," Callum said, scanning a tablet. "No handshake issues."
"New York's all clear," one of the engineers added. "FaceWorld loaded instantly across the board. No app crashes."
Jake leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, satisfied. "Run a sweep on memory usage, just to be safe. But yeah… we're crushing it."
This wasn't a test anymore. This was real. The FacePhone was in people's hands, and it was working.
No bugs. No meltdowns. No chaos.
Just results.
Callum grinned. "Not bad for a company started by a ten-year-old."
Jake smirked. "Twelve now. Try to keep up."
A few people chuckled, but the atmosphere stayed focused. Today mattered.
"Alright," Jake said, rising from his seat. "Prep the press push. Keep the tone calm and confident. Let the product do the talking."
The beta was live—and the world didn't know what was coming next.
---
Jake's driver dropped him off at the Brentwood house just after seven. Judith was waiting on the porch with two mugs of tea and a look that said we need to talk before she even opened her mouth.
"You're late," she said, handing him a mug.
He took a sip. Chamomile. Her go-to peace offering.
"Beta launch went smooth," he said, settling beside her. "Almost boring."
Judith raised an eyebrow. "Boring's good. You could use more of it."
Jake didn't answer. His mind was still humming from the day—launches, metrics, meetings. And it was only Monday.
After a long moment, Judith spoke again. "I'm proud of you, Jake. I really am. But I worry too. You're twelve. And most days, you look more exhausted than the people I work with."
Jake cracked a tired smile. "That's because I work harder than them."
"I'm being serious." She turned toward him. "You need a regular check-up. And maybe someone to help manage your schedule. You can't keep burning the candle at both ends. I don't want to watch you burn out."
Jake wanted to push back. Say he was fine. But deep down, he knew she wasn't wrong.
He nodded. "Alright. We'll set something up."
Judith gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you."
Just then, Jake's FacePhone buzzed.
Haley: "Mom grounded me again. But I still have my phone. Wanna talk later?"
Jake smiled and texted back: "Of course."
He stared at the screen for another second, thumb hovering.
Judith caught the look and said, "You know, I've never seen you smile at your homework the way you smile at her texts."
Jake looked up, surprised.
She smirked. "Not judging. Just saying."
Then she stood up and walked back into the house, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts and the soft buzz of night insects in the air.
The launch was done. His company was scaling fast. But the hardest part? Was still finding balance.
---
Later that night, Jake lay in bed with his FacePhone resting on his chest, the glow of the screen casting soft shadows in the dark.
Haley: "My mom's acting like I kissed the Pope or something."
Jake: "Maybe if the Pope had a tech empire and was 12."
Haley: "Lol. You're ridiculous."
Jake: "Still grounded?"
Haley: "Yep. But she let me keep my phone because 'communication is vital.'"
Jake: "She doesn't know who you're communicating with."
Haley: "She would die."
Jake chuckled. Even with everything going on—apps, deals, deadlines—this made him feel human.
Jake: "You still up?"
A moment later, the phone rang.
"Hi," Haley whispered.
"Hey."
"I hate being grounded."
"I hate not seeing you."
There was a pause. Then she sighed.
"My mom says I'm too young to like anyone."
Jake frowned. "We probably are. But that doesn't mean we can't feel things."
"Deep, Harper."
He laughed softly. "You bring it out of me."
She was quiet for a beat. "You're gonna be famous, you know."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "I kind of already am."
"No. I mean really famous. Like… people writing books about you famous."
"That a good thing?"
"I don't know. I just hope you still text me when you're on the cover of Time magazine."
Jake turned onto his side, voice soft. "I'll still text you even if I'm on Mars."
Haley laughed—a quiet, warm sound that made Jake smile for real.
"Night, genius," she whispered.
"Night, Haley."
Jake ended the call, set the phone on his nightstand, and stared at the ceiling.
His product had launched. His name was gaining weight. His empire was growing.
But what stayed with him the most…
Was her laugh.