NOVA TECH
647 Words
I remembered a name.
Eighteen months before the divorce. Damien's dinner party. Eight people at our table. I moved between the kitchen and dining room, refilling wine. The men talked about money like zeros were decoration.
A man with a red face laughed. NovaTech. Dreamers. Unsustainable. Gone in two years. Everyone laughed. Damien smiled.
I returned to the kitchen and thought nothing of it.
Three days later, I went to the library before checking my brokerage account. I read everything about the founders, the technology, and the market gap. I noted the reasons people said it wouldn't work and why they were wrong. I filled a yellow legal pad with notes like my mother used to. Arrows. Circles. Questions answered.
By day three, I was sure. Not comfortable sure. The kind of certainty that comes after hard work. I bought shares at sixty cents. Then I sat in front of my camera.
"I want to talk about something different tonight," I said. Two hundred forty thousand people watched. The chat moved fast.
I held up my legal pad. "I bought stock today. A company called NovaTech." I paused. "I'm not telling you to buy it. I'm not a financial advisor. But I want to show you how I think about this. Nobody ever showed me."
I talked for an hour. About the technology. About the market. About the difference between a failing company and one others called a failure.
The chat scrolled. Questions. Doubt. Excitement. People tagged friends. I answered what I could. I admitted when I didn't know.
When I ended the stream, I had been live for seventy minutes. I made tea and went to bed.
Fifty thousand people bought NovaTech stock that night. I learned this the next morning when my notifications crashed the app. I sat with my coffee and read comments.
"I've never bought stock before. Is that okay?"
"My husband said this was stupid. I did it anyway."
"I'm a single mom. I have two hundred dollars. I put fifty in. Please don't make me regret this."
That last one stayed with me.
I posted: Reminder. I am not a financial advisor. I research and share my thoughts. Make your own decisions. Protect yourself first.
Then I put my phone down and returned to the library.
The stock hit four dollars six weeks later. I was streaming when the chat changed. Faster. One topic rose above the rest. NOVATECH. FOUR DOLLARS.
I opened my brokerage app on camera. I looked at the number. I looked at the camera.
Three seconds of silence. The chat exploded.
"Okay," I said. My voice was steadier than I felt. "Okay. So."
I laughed, surprised. The chat laughed with me.
Then my phone rang.
Damien.
The chat saw it before I decided what to do.
I looked at the camera. I accepted on speaker.
"Aurora." His voice was tight. "How did you know about NovaTech?"
"Hi, Damien."
"Did someone tip you?"
"The ex-husband everyone." I kept my voice light. "The one who said I wasn't technical enough. Say hi, Damien."
Silence. The chat lost its mind.
"Aurora this is serious. There are people who—"
"I know." I turned off the burner. "But I'm not having this conversation while two hundred forty thousand people watch me ruin a sauce. Goodbye, Damien."
I ended the call. I turned back to the camera.
"Where were we."
The clip went viral before I finished the stream. Twenty-three million views by morning.
I sat in the kitchen at two in the morning with the city outside and the brokerage screen glowing. I thought about that dinner party. The red-faced man. Damien's careful smile. Me refilling glasses and saying nothing.
My mother would have laughed if she saw the number on that screen.
I put the phone down and went to bed. I slept better than I had in years.
- Writer
