Smartystan

Black and white keys danced under the fingertips of Vestin Go. By gliding up and down the board, he created a sonata. It was simple. One of Phyllis Deaver’s most played works, it filled the space of his living room with booming, melodious noised. The sun had not yet risen and he had already exercised, showered, and threw on his classic white tee and black jeans. Then, he stopped. He looked at his phone. More millions poured into his account. He smirked. With this amount of money, he would be able to purchase even more workspace for his employees to continue on their journey to financial liberty.

He made a smoothie with protein powder and looked at the time. It was near eight o'clock. He worked. Chanda walked down from their bedroom and found her beau in the kitchen. She wanted to make some coffee and kiss Go’s mouth. She set the machine and then smacked one right on his lips. The sensation of the union of their mouths brought him into focus as he peeled away from her. She looked somewhat dismayed, but knew that he had to get back to his home office and labor away for the lifestyle they enjoyed.

“You know what, I’m going to start that painting and sculpting company with the money I saved up from the past ten years. I think a server at a restaurant can bring pretty big dividends.”

“I agree. Your art history degree’s going to pay off soon,” Go reminded her.

“It just ought to do so. As much time and effort as I put into earning that degree, it’s something that I think is going to keep me well nourished, spiritually.”

Go kissed her cheek and then journeyed into his office. He looked at the data and noticed that he had made millions but also lost millions in the process. He made more than he lost so the net amount at least reflected the amount of effort and focus he had reserved for days like this. His billionaire status had been challenged every time his screens came to life and showed him hard facts about his finances. The numbers didn’t care that he lived in a swanky mansion or had a girlfriend with diamond eyes and cinnamon skin. The markets didn’t care if he still wanted to keep his skateboard shop and work on his music.

This, he liked. It brought him great satisfaction to realize that he stood alone and independent of anyone in his ear, trying to prevent or provoke him to go in on a trade or exit the business altogether. He looked at a notice. It read:

“A Vestin. Big loss. But you’ve got a much bigger gain. Don’t worry. This wasn’t your first and most certainly won’t be your last.”

Go yawned. He took those little messages with a boulder of salt as he took full understanding of the ideas behind them. He continued to invest. He brought his full attention to the numbers on the screen and wasted no time in making amends with the blockchain. Within this marketplace, the only way for him to be certain about something was to look at clocks. Time always told him the truth and kept his mind clear of distractions.

In the sense of making a trade, he did so with full knowledge of his fiscal prowess. He could invest a few million dollars and get back tens of millions in the same day. Then, he could lose those ten million and invest even more to recoup the money that he had lost. It was like a Phyllis Deaver symphony to him. There existed peaks and troughs, just like in the music. He experienced the highs and lows all the same. When he had looked at his atomic clock, he noticed the time read nine fourteen. The markets at the WiSE would be opening soon.

As he looked at all of the trading of the cryptocurrency, he grew aware of the fact that he had to use his searing intellect to drive him to complete all of his tasks. By knowing that he had limitless possibilities, he trained his attention on the markets with even greater intensity. With glances at the clock and at the screens, his fingers made the keys of his desktop dance this time. Like a beautiful musical of mathematics and precision, he assured himself in his position as a financier.

All of the money that he could make in a day, most people wouldn’t be able to imagine in a lifetime. This never humbled him. Instead, it gave him grace. He was grateful to his parents who instilled the merits of education and understanding in his life. He was grateful that he had a girlfriend who could make money on her own and still appreciate and respect his rapacity for generating a dollar.

The markets opened. He threw himself into overdrive and would not let himself stop trading until deep into the afternoon. A few hours before closing time, he didn’t eat or drink or cease his work in any way. In keeping with his role as someone strong in the faith of capitalism, he looked at the atomic clock once more. He still had time before the other markets closed. That’s what intrigued him the most…crypto could be traded at any time, any where. The other markets he once used and could still trade them cold. The flexibility and the freedom of crypto brought him closer to his goal of being a centibillionaire.

He thought about Dr. Strong. Though not a billionaire, he stood out as the most prominent figure because he championed the billionaire as much as the millionaire and the man who drew thousands. Honesty played into all of this. If you completed great work, it didn’t matter what your bank account read. What remained important happened to be the moral spine that one possessed when entering into any market. It didn’t have to be crypto or the WiSE or any of that. If a man or woman fought and struggled and did their damndest to make their own life worthy of living, Go and the other founders prized this overall.

The day ended for trading. Go returned to the piano. He had been practicing since he was four-years-old. Now, at twenty-four, he could grasp the inner workings of notes just as he could with figures. This brought joy to his day. As he began to play even more complex melodies, he also started to better understand his position as the head of household. Every note sounded like openness and truth. It gave him a real boost to know that he could control his future and not have to worry about the downfalls and the pitfalls that may be associated with trading.