By the time I was nearing my fifteenth birthday, life felt like it was running on rails.
The company was thriving. What had started as a one-million-dollar venture had already ballooned to more than thirty million in value. Every month, sales grew, our name spread, and competitors began sniffing around. My father was busier than ever, traveling constantly, juggling meetings and deals. My mother kept the legal shields tight, but even she admitted the storm of competition would come eventually.
One evening, my father confessed what I had already guessed.
"We should think about selling," he said. "One or two years more. Get the valuation high, then cash out before the copycats flood the market. Even with a patent, it'll be a battle. And I don't want to waste my life in lawsuits."
I nodded. He was right. He had already given me what I needed: my first foothold, my first capital. The rest I could handle alone. Sixty thousand dollars — in the right hands, in the right time — was more than enough.
And the right time was coming.
With my mother's help, just before my fifteenth birthday, we opened a custodial brokerage account — my first demat account. She smiled at my excitement, amused that her teenage son cared more about stock tickers than baseball games. But she didn't stop me. She trusted me.
I deposited the sixty thousand. My first real war chest.
There were only a few days left in 1984. A new year was about to dawn — 1985, the beginning of a bull market that would run faster and higher than most investors could even imagine.
I didn't hesitate. My first target was Disney.
When my father asked why, I gave him an answer simple enough to make sense, but deep enough to sound impressive.
"Japan," I said. "They're becoming rich. When people get rich, they spend on leisure. Disneyland is perfect for that. And with Tokyo Disneyland just launched, Disney's getting royalties. Plus…" I smiled faintly, "Hollywood is heating up. I think Disney is the best play."
My father stared at me for a long moment, then laughed softly. "You really are set on being an investor, aren't you?"
He had no idea how serious I was.
That winter, while other fifteen-year-olds worried about exams, friends, or first crushes, I watched the markets. The first moves of my second life had been made. The board was set.
The bull run was about to begin.