Chapter One
When I volunteered for Entrepreneuralooza, I didn’t know what to expect. My convention-junkie friend Eliza, who volunteered in conventions ranging from comic cons to events concerning golfing, told me that it would be a blast. I was a bit skeptical, obviously, but the convention was going to be during summer, when I’d be doing nothing but staying at home, anyway.
Besides that, my professors told me that experience was ideal. As I went for a degree in business, I knew that it would be great to meet and connect to some of the biggest entrepreneurs out there. Entrepreneuralooza was one of the largest business conventions out there, and it had something for everyone. It gave small business owners the same voice as a billionaire would, and it was a judgement-free zone where business owners, as well as those who flirted with the idea of starting their own company, could gather and talk to one another.
The main rule of Entrepreneurlooza was, “Don’t act like you’re above anyone else.” The celebrities in the convention chatted with the peasants and even shared drinks. Some broke that rule, but otherwise, from what my friend told me, most played fair.
The event was scheduled for the end of July, and during the months leading up to it, I attended volunteer meeting after volunteer meeting. In those get-togethers, I had to listen to people discuss feedback from the last event, how they were going to improve this year’s gathering, and input from everyone attending. Being new to the convention, I felt a bit left out, as they provided little room for newcomers to chime in. I was the slender, twentysomething woman in the back, who was pretty but meek.
In spite of this, I attended every meeting I could, and soon the convention began unveiling guests. A few successful local business owners were chosen, and they announced a few of the big names as well. To my surprise, they managed to get some good names. Fittingly enough, I was using a product developed by one, or should I say two, of them, as I heard the announcement.
The balding man hosting this event, who simply called himself Bradley, smiled at the table as he announced the guest.
“One big complaint from last year is that we got too many older billionaires and not enough young blood. And I get it. How people became rich thirty years ago is irrelevant in today’s world. So we managed to reel in Ethan Pulley and Jack Goldsmith. For those who don’t know, they were the founders of the popular social media app, PicHouse.”
I was on my phone, playing with my PicHouse account as he announced this. PicHouse was this app where people communicate, make friends, and find love using an account that posts nothing but pictures. It was so simplified that you couldn’t use text, so no wonder it was a hit. In an egotistical and illiterate society that loves selfies, they hit the nail on the head.
Bradley continued. “The two aren’t even thirty yet, and their combined net worth is in the billions. They were poor college students before they had the idea of making the app, and they can be an inspiration for the youth who believes that you can’t become rich unless you were already well-off.”
Everyone clapped at this, including me. I then looked through my phone and searched for these two people, because I was curious about their appearance.
Both of them were gorgeous. I found a professional photo of them standing back-to-back, cocky expressions on their faces. Ethan had a strong jawline, neatly combed hair, and he looked quite good in a suit. Meanwhile, Jack had a wilder look going on. He dressed in a suit as well, but had longer hair. The two couldn’t be any older than 29.
I found myself blushing a bit, and when I returned to my apartment, I knew I was delusional. They wouldn’t date someone like me, who was attractive but lived paycheck to paycheck. No matter how much a young businessman tried to relate to the youth, he was still elitist about who he