CHAPTER ONE: THE BLUEPRINT OF LIFE
The morning sun leaked through the half- curtains, spreading golden light across the small but neatly arranged apartment. Adrian Cole sat at the wooden table in his living room, a steaming cup of black coffee beside him, and a notebook spread wide open. His pen tapped against the page as his eyes studied the words he had written the night before.
Step One: Secure promotion within six months.
Step Two: Begin mortgage payments before age thirty.
Step Three: Save ten million in five years.
Step Four: Build a family—stable, predictable, secure.
Adrian underlined the last line, then leaned back in his chair, lips tightening into something between pride and doubt. To him, life was like software: if coded correctly, the output would never fail. He believed in plans, in discipline, in calculations. His friends called him "the architect of tomorrow." He wore that title with quiet satisfaction.
At twenty-eight, Adrian was already working as an analyst in one of the city's respected firms. He wasn't rich—not yet—but he was focused. While others his age blew their weekends on clubs, he spent his nights reading investment books and listening to podcasts on financial independence. Every choice he made, every step he took, was toward a future that was clear, predictable, and perfectly mapped out.
Or so he thought.
---
His phone buzzed on the table, pulling him from his thoughts. It was a message from Victor Kane.
Bro, don't be boring. Meet me at The Hangout tonight. 8 pm. No excuses.
Adrian exhaled sharply. Victor was his oldest friend, practically a brother. But where Adrian was calculated, Victor was reckless. He lived as though tomorrow was guaranteed, burning money, chasing thrills, drowning in short-lived pleasures. Their friendship was a paradox—two men walking different paths, bound by years of loyalty.
Adrian typed back a curt reply: Busy. Work tomorrow.
He closed the notebook, slid it into his bag, and stood in front of the mirror. A tall, lean man stared back—dark eyes that rarely betrayed emotion, a well-kept beard, and a suit pressed so sharply it seemed ironed into his skin. He adjusted his tie, nodded once at his reflection, and stepped out of the apartment.
---
The city was alive with the usual Monday chaos. Street hawkers shouted at motorists stuck in traffic, bus conductors leaned dangerously from the sides of their yellow buses, and the scent of roasted corn and suya floated through the air. Adrian walked past it all with the determination of a man who refused distraction.
At the office, his mentor, Mrs. Oladipo, a woman in her fifties with sharp eyes that missed nothing, called him into her glass-walled office.
"Adrian," she began, her voice calm but deliberate, "the directors reviewed your proposal. They're impressed. If this continues, I see a promotion in your future."
His chest tightened with controlled excitement. Step One: Secure promotion within six months. He was on schedule.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, bowing slightly.
But before he could leave, she added, "Just remember, life is not always as we plan it. One decision, one moment, can turn everything upside down. Stay humble."
Adrian forced a polite smile. He respected her, but deep inside he thought: People say that because they lack discipline. The future belongs to those who plan.
---
That night, against his usual routine, Adrian decided to stop by The Hangout. He told himself it would be just an hour—enough to silence Victor's endless nagging.
The lounge was dim, pulsing with music and laughter. Victor spotted him immediately, lifting a glass of whiskey in triumph. "Look who finally left his spreadsheets to live a little!"
Adrian shook his head but allowed himself a small smile. "One drink, Victor. Then I'm gone."
But one drink turned into two, then three. The night stretched longer than he intended, filled with conversations about money, women, and dreams that dissolved into smoke and laughter. For the first time in months, Adrian allowed himself to forget the blueprint of his life.
When he finally stumbled out into the cool night air, his phone buzzed again—this time with a message that made his blood run cold.
It was from his father's neighbor.
Adrian, come home immediately. Your father collapsed. It's serious.
The world around him spun. The music from the lounge, the noise of the city, the smell of smoke and alcohol—all of it faded into silence. His carefully written plan, his underlined goals, his timetable for success—all of it seemed meaningless in that single moment.
Because the future, he realized, had just changed without his permission.