Chapter 3
Doobaie.
Tom was there to pick me up.
He'd packed on about thirty pounds since college, but he was still as lively as ever.
He rolled up in a Maserati with a three-digit license plate. In Doobaie, the fewer digits on your plate, the more expensive it was.
"Holy shit, Alex!" Tom yelled from way across the parking lot. "You actually made it!"
I walked over, dragging an empty suitcase, yeah, I didn't even bother to put anything in it.
Tom grabbed the suitcase and weighed it in his hand. "That's it?"
"That's it," I replied.
"You really left everything behind and came here empty-handed?" he said.
"Pretty much," I said.
Tom looked at me, like he had something on his mind, but kept it to himself.
Clearly, he wanted to bring it up.
But he didn't.
He just clapped me on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get some food. Damn, you look pale as hell, like you just did a stint in prison."
"Honestly, it was worse than prison," I said.
He said, "Alright, enough with that. From today on, you're a Doobaie guy. Whatever happened before, bury it deep, never speak of it again."
I slid into the passenger seat, and the moment the engine roared to life, the sound vibrated right through my chest.
I was alive.
I was still alive.
If it hadn't been for that email last night, I'd probably be dead by now.
Or maybe I'd be a murderer.
Damn, what kind of messed up shit was that?
Was that fate's biggest joke on me?
First, I found out I'd been cheated on for five years.
And then, just as I was about to check out for good, fate tossed me a golden ticket, 4 million dollars a year, all in.
Suddenly, it hit me how ridiculous this all was.
Absurd enough to make me want to laugh.
I really did laugh.
Tom got spooked by my laugh. "Dude, don't freak me out, you're not losing your mind, are you?"
"I'm not losing it," I said.
I rolled down the window, and the scorching Doobaie air, over a hundred degrees, rushed in.
"I just feel like, if God were a person, he'd be a screenwriter," I said.
"And a really bad one at that," I added.
When we got to Tom's apartment, I took a shower and crashed for a full fourteen hours.
When I woke up, the view outside was Doobaie's night skyline.
That landmark's lights looked like a golden needle piercing the night.
On the nightstand, Tom had left me some new clothes and a brand new phone.
I'd tossed my old phone into a trash can at the airport back home.
The new phone only had Tom's number in it.
Nothing else, just clean.
Simple, no clutter.
It really felt like starting over.
The next day, I showed up at the office for my first day.
Al-Rashid Capital.
One of the top three investment firms in Doobaie.
The boss was an older guy with a full beard, and when he smiled, he looked genuinely warm.
He spoke to me, "Alex, I've seen your analysis reports. Brilliant."
That was when it hit me, when I drunkenly fired off my resume three months ago, I just tossed in some reports I'd busted my ass on for the past three years.
Those reports were my sweat and tears at my old job, but my boss back home thought I was too reckless, never gave a damn about them.
Turned out, they ended up being my ticket in over here.
Damn, fate had a twisted sense of humor.
My first week at the job, they threw me straight into a 70 million dollar project.
The pace was insane, I barely had time to catch my breath, let alone think about anything else.
Days were crammed with meetings, crunching numbers, and drafting strategies.
At night, Tom dragged me out to mingle and make connections.
The Huagardian community in Doobaie was small, but packed with heavy hitters.
Everyone there was either hustling in trade, making moves in real estate, or playing big in finance.
After a month, I fit right in.
Got myself a gym membership, up at six every morning for a run.
Lost ten pounds and got a nice tan.
Felt more energized than ever, like a whole new person.
One time, Tom snapped a pic of me and posted it on his social media with the caption: [Doobaie's newest finance bro.]
The comments section blew up.
Old colleagues and classmates started commenting.
[Is that Alex?]
[Damn, I barely recognize you!]
[Dude, you've made it!]
I didn't reply.
I set my profile so only the last three days' posts were visible.
I didn't want anything to do with anyone from my old life.