The morning after their clandestine coding session was a rude awakening.
Literally.
"¡Despierta, dormilón! Breakfast is ready!" Nana's voice bellowed like a foghorn as she knocked hard enough on his door to rattle the frame.
Jaime groaned and rolled over, his head buried beneath his pillow. Every bone in his body protested, his eyes crusty from staring at code all night. He briefly considered pretending to be dead, but Nana had a sixth sense for that sort of nonsense.
Reluctantly, he staggered out of bed, shuffled to the kitchen, and nearly tripped over a pile of wires, a power strip, and—was that Uncle Rudy's old tablet?
"¡Oye, careful!" Rudy shot up from behind the kitchen counter like a gopher from its hole, a piece of toast in one hand and Jaime's laptop in the other. "We got work to do, sobrino!"
"You didn't sleep either?" Jaime croaked, dropping into a chair.
"I didn't need to! I was fueled by purpose!" Rudy beamed, then took a massive bite of toast. "Also three cups of coffee and a questionable energy drink."
From the living room, Nana shouted, "¡Si te mueres por idiota, no llores en mi cocina!"(If you die from being an idiot, don't cry in my kitchen!)
Rudy just grinned wider.
Before Jaime could ask what the hell was going on, Rudy plopped the laptop in front of him. "I called in a favor. My buddy Miguel in the city runs a small business office. He can help us set up your app proper—legit business, tax ID, bank stuff, the whole shebang."
Jaime blinked. "Wait, already?"
"You think I was gonna let a golden goose like you just sit there?" Rudy gestured at the laptop like it was the Ark of the Covenant. "That game is good, mijo. Not just 'pass-the-time' good. Addictive. I nearly punted your nana's sewing basket across the room when I lost at 13 points."
"You were supposed to be helping with breakfast," Rocio muttered, entering the kitchen with her arms crossed and a glare strong enough to peel paint.
"I did! I supervised the toaster."
"You left it on fire."
Jaime snorted into his cup.
"Anyway!" Rudy clapped his hands. "We head out in an hour. Wear something that doesn't scream 'high school sophomore.' Business casual, baby!"
Jaime blinked. "I have... jeans?"
Rudy nodded solemnly. "Then wear your nice jeans."
An hour later, Jaime emerged from his room wearing the least-wrinkled pair of jeans he owned and a button-up that still had a faint mustard stain from last month's taco night.
Rudy gave him a once-over and nodded like a proud fashion consultant. "Perfect. You look like you're here to pitch a startup and maybe steal someone's girl."
Jaime rolled his eyes but grinned despite himself.
The bus ride into the city was a blur of nerves and caffeine. Rudy, bless him, did most of the talking—telling Jaime what to expect, reminding him to smile, and threatening to elbow him if he said "uh" too many times in front of Miguel.
Miguel turned out to be a middle-aged guy with slick hair, a Bluetooth headset, and a suspiciously expensive pen. He operated out of a shared office space that smelled faintly of printer ink and despair.
But to his credit, Miguel worked fast.
By noon, Jaime had a registered LLC, a payment processor linked to a checking account under the company's name, and a very official-looking folder full of forms he only half-understood.
"Welcome to the hustle," Miguel said, shaking Jaime's hand with a grin. "Now go make me regret not charging you a finder's fee."
Back on the bus, Jaime leaned his head against the window, exhausted. "I can't believe that worked."
"Worked?" Rudy scoffed. "Please. You think Zuckerberg built Facebook in one night? Okay, bad example. But we're on the ground floor of something, Jaime. You made something people are gonna play on the toilet for hours. That's power, sobrino."
Jaime laughed weakly. "We don't even know if anyone's downloaded it yet."
"Oh, we will." Rudy waggled his phone. "I set up a notification alert on the dev dashboard. First ping, we celebrate."
They didn't have to wait long.
That night, after dinner, while Jaime was pretending to do homework and Rudy was definitely not pretending to stalk the app dashboard, the first ding came through.
One download.
Jaime froze. "Was that—?"
"Yup." Rudy grinned.
Then another.
And another.
By 10 PM, there were thirty-two.
By 11:15, someone had purchased more lives.
"¡SANTA MARÍA, MADRE DE DIOS!" Rudy exploded, nearly knocking over a lamp as he leapt up and spun in a circle. "IT BEGINS!"
Jaime couldn't help it. He laughed so hard he wheezed.
Nana, unfazed, poked her head in from the hallway. "If you break something in my kitchen, I break you!"
"Noted!" Rudy shouted back, still dancing.
Jaime leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen. His game. His code. His name on the business license.
It was real.
It was happening.
And for the first time since waking up in this world, he didn't feel like an imposter. He felt like Jaime Reyes.