Chapter 68:
(Late June 2007 – Brentwood, Malibu, FaceWorld HQ)
Sunday Morning – Brentwood Kitchen
The smell of coffee and toasted bagels hung in the air as sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows, turning the white tile floors into a checkerboard of light and shadow.
Judith was practically glowing, standing by the kitchen island, a mug of coffee in one hand, her other hand conspicuously resting on the counter where a modest but unmistakable diamond ring sparkled.
Herb Melnick, ever the picture of cheerful awkwardness, stood beside her with a grin so wide Jake wondered if his face might crack.
Jake, barefoot and still in his rumpled T-shirt and pajama pants, blinked once, processing.
"You're engaged?" he said finally, voice flat.
Judith beamed. "He proposed last night. Over sushi. I didn't even see it coming, but…" she looked over at Herb with a fondness Jake hadn't seen in a long time, "it felt right."
Jake glanced at Herb. "You didn't even clear it with me first."
Herb chuckled, a little nervously. "I didn't know I needed to."
"You kinda do," Jake said, deadpan, holding the silence just long enough to watch Herb sweat a little—then cracked a grin. "Kidding. Mostly."
Judith swatted his arm playfully. "You'll get used to it."
Jake picked up his glass of orange juice, sipping slowly, eyes distant.
He wasn't upset.
Not really.
Just... thinking.
Because deep down, he knew.
Change was coming.
Fast.
---
Sunday Afternoon – Jake's Room
Jake sat cross-legged on his bed, laptop open in front of him, the screen filled with schematics and zoning maps.
The engagement didn't surprise him.
Judith and Herb had been solid for months—maybe longer. Herb wasn't Charlie. He wasn't even Alan. He was stable, if a little awkward. The kind of guy who remembered birthdays and bought flowers for no reason.
What surprised Jake was himself.
He wasn't angry.
He wasn't jealous.
He wasn't even sad.
He just... felt done.
Done living in a house where half the furniture had been picked when he was still scared of the dark.
Done trying to fit billion-dollar plans into a childhood bedroom still cluttered with action figures and old Pokémon cards.
Done explaining why his socks were in the same drawer as Spider-Man pajamas.
He closed the laptop and leaned back against the headboard, arms folded behind his head.
It was time.
Not to move out yet—he was thirteen, after all.
But time to prepare.
Really prepare.
For everything.
---
Later That Day – Malibu Clifftop
The wind whipped Jake's hoodie as he stood on the rocky outcrop overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
The sea stretched endlessly before him, crashing against the cliffs far below, each wave carving away another millimeter of stone.
Jake pulled his tablet out of his backpack and tapped it awake.
Up popped the architectural rendering: a sweeping glass and steel structure, perched on the cliffside like it belonged there. Clean lines. Solar panels integrated into the design. Reinforced windows. High-efficiency everything.
It wasn't just a house.
It was a fortress.
A lab.
A sanctuary.
Below the main living space, hidden from view, was the real jewel: a sprawling underground car garage. Designed to store not just vehicles, but fabrication rigs, R&D stations, server racks, prototype testing bays. A private innovation bunker.
Jake smiled faintly.
Tony Stark had Iron Man.
He'd have FaceWorld—and a hell of a view.
He tapped out a quick email to his architect:
> Subject: FINALIZE
"Move forward. Permits and site prep first. Excavation and foundation pour in 6–8 weeks. Underground garage first priority. Vertical build after. Keep the project discreet."
Five minutes later, a reply buzzed:
> "Survey team already booked. Expect ground break early September."
Jake tucked the tablet back into his bag and stood for a moment longer, the ocean breeze ruffling his hair.
This wasn't a rush.
It was a foundation.
A place where he could build without compromise.
Where no one could tell him what he could or couldn't do.
The future needed room to grow.
And he was done asking permission.
---
Tuesday – FaceWorld HQ – Private Auditorium – 10:00 a.m.
The private theater beneath FaceWorld HQ had been designed for days like this.
Thirty hand-picked attendees—early investors, senior engineers, trusted insiders—filed into the plush black seats, glancing around with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism.
No press badges. No cameras. No glossy brochures.
Just a simple invite that promised they were about to see "the future of portable computing."
Jake waited backstage, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
He wasn't nervous.
He was ready.
Callum peeked around the curtain. "They're all in."
Jake nodded once.
The lights dimmed.
A single spotlight hit center stage.
Jake walked out slowly, the FacePad cradled in one hand—a sleek rectangle of glass and aluminum that seemed almost to hum with quiet power.
He didn't waste time.
"This," Jake said, holding it up, "is the future of portable computing."
No keyboard.
No hinge.
No boot time.
No compromises.
He tapped the screen once.
The FacePad came to life, its edge-to-edge display casting a crisp white glow.
Gasps rippled through the room.
Jake smiled faintly and launched into the demo:
SketchPro — stylus drawing with zero lag.
Instant FaceWorld launch — swipe and you were live.
YouTube streaming — HD playback with no buffering.
Netflix app — full-screen movie playback, instant resume.
FaceNet multiplayer game demo — real-time racing with no latency.
He didn't overhype.
He didn't oversell.
He let the device speak for itself.
By the time he finished, the room was dead silent.
A silence thicker and heavier than applause.
Shock. Awe. Realization.
Jake set the FacePad gently back on its stand and gave a single nod.
"Welcome to what's next," he said.
And then he walked offstage without another word.
---
Later That Afternoon – Executive Office
Callum strode into Jake's office with a grin so wide it looked painful.
"It's done," he said, tossing a thick file onto Jake's desk.
Jake raised an eyebrow.
"Hulu?"
"Signed, sealed, delivered," Callum confirmed. "Harvey and Jessica pulled it off. No leaks either. Full control—name, IP, tech, team."
Jake flipped through the executive summary, nodding as he read.
"Merge the backend with Netflix immediately. Use YouTube's compression tech. Streamline everything."
Callum scribbled a note on his tablet. "Got it. And the branding?"
Jake tapped the file thoughtfully.
"Keep the 'Hulu' name for now. It's got recognition. After the integration's smooth, we rebrand under FaceTV."
Callum's grin widened. "World domination in progress?"
Jake smirked. "Always."
---
Wednesday – Hardware Lab – 3:32 p.m.
The hardware lab buzzed with quiet energy—3D printers humming, engineers murmuring over test rigs, prototype cases gleaming under fluorescent lights.
Jake stepped through the sliding door and immediately spotted it:
The FaceWatch prototype, strapped around a dummy wrist mounted on a testing rig.
On the tiny screen: heart rate monitor, step counter, a new FaceWorld message notification, and a timer that Jake had started remotely via his FacePhone five minutes ago.
All syncing perfectly.
He picked up the dummy arm and examined the device closely.
"Battery life?" he asked.
One of the engineers, a wiry guy in thick glasses, stepped forward. "Eighteen hours under heavy load. Closer to twenty-four if we optimize sleep cycles."
Jake nodded. "Good. Now add water resistance. Full submersion, not just splash-proof."
The engineer hesitated. "That could push back launch."
Jake gave him a look.
"Also," Jake continued, "integrate basic voice control. Start with text dictation. Wake commands next."
"Voice control?" the engineer echoed, stunned. "This early?"
"You heard me," Jake said, already moving to the next test station.
The engineer scribbled frantic notes.
---
Friday – Industry News Cycle Disruption – 8:12 a.m.
Jake sipped his coffee slowly, scrolling through the day's tech headlines on his tablet.
Most of it was noise.
Until one headline made him sit up:
> Yahoo! and Microsoft Announce Joint Mobile Initiative: 'Project Echo' to Rival FacePhone
Jake read the article twice, his coffee cooling forgotten on the table.
Microsoft would handle the OS.
Yahoo would provide messaging, media, web services.
It was a clumsy, desperate play—two dinosaurs trying to dance in a world that had already passed them by.
"They're scared," Jake muttered.
Callum peeked into the office, already grinning.
"You see the news?"
Jake smirked. "Yeah. They brought a knife to a drone fight."
Callum laughed.
Jake set the tablet down and cracked his knuckles.
"Move up the FaceWatch reveal," he said. "And tell the engineers..."
He stood up, fire in his eyes now.
"It's time we build something that makes them obsolete."