Chapter 36: The Penthouse Move
The U-Haul truck blocks half the street.
Sheldon's on the sidewalk with a clipboard. "According to my calculations, if we move furniture in order of volumetric efficiency—"
"Sheldon, we're just carrying boxes upstairs."
"Chaos is the enemy of—"
"—efficiency. Got it." I grab the nearest box. "Let's just get this done."
Leonard appears from the truck bed, struggling with my mattress. "Little help?"
Howard jumps up to assist, immediately pinching his hand between mattress and truck frame. "Ow! Fuck!"
"That's the second time you've injured yourself helping me move furniture," I point out.
"First was the wall demolition. This is different." He sucks his thumb. "Still counts as helping."
Raj emerges from my old studio apartment carrying a box labeled COMICS - VALUABLE. He's treating it like nitroglycerin.
"I have your treasures! Please tell me these are insured!"
"It's just back issues, Raj."
"JUST? These could be priceless!"
Melissa's directing traffic from the lobby. "Boxes to the left, furniture to the right. Sheldon, move your clipboard station. You're blocking the entrance."
"My organizational system requires—"
"Move it or I'll move it for you."
He relocates immediately. Smart man.
The penthouse elevator takes us three at a time.
First trip up, Leonard whistles at the space. "This is—wow."
"Two thousand square feet of wow," I correct.
"Your studio was maybe four hundred." He sets down the mattress. "You really leveled up."
Sheldon enters with his clipboard, immediately starts pacing the room. "Optimal furniture arrangement requires assessment of natural light patterns, traffic flow, and social gathering logistics."
"Or I could just put stuff where it looks good."
"That's aesthetically subjective and functionally inadequate."
"Sheldon. It's my apartment."
He pauses. Considers. "Nevertheless, I've prepared schematics."
He produces a three-page document with scale drawings and furniture placement algorithms. The man prepared AUTOCAD diagrams for my furniture.
"When did you have time for this?"
"I don't sleep much."
Fair point.
By noon, we've moved everything upstairs.
My possessions look pathetic in the massive space. Studio apartment furniture—futon, small desk, two chairs—barely fills the living room. The master bedroom swallows my mattress and dresser.
"You need more stuff," Howard observes.
"Thanks, Howard."
"I'm serious. This looks like a squatter situation. Rich squatter, but still."
Melissa's measuring the second bedroom. "This could be an office. Get a proper desk, shelving, maybe a couch for when people visit."
"Or a gaming room," Raj suggests. "Big screen, multiple consoles, comfortable seating."
"Or a library," Leonard offers. "Build floor-to-ceiling bookshelves."
Sheldon's been quiet, studying the balcony through the windows. Finally: "The balcony's three hundred square feet. We could move game night here. Superior to apartment 4A's cramped conditions."
"Hey—" Leonard starts.
"It's objectively larger with better ventilation and city views."
"Sheldon has a point," I admit. "Alternate locations? 4A some weeks, here other weeks?"
Leonard considers. "That's... actually fair."
"Accepted." Sheldon makes a note on his clipboard. "I'll draft a schedule."
Furniture placement becomes a group project.
Sheldon wants the couch positioned for optimal television viewing angles. Leonard argues for conversation-circle orientation. Howard suggests "bachelor pad sexy," which Melissa vetoes immediately.
Raj just wants the plants positioned according to feng shui principles.
"There are no plants," I point out.
"Which is why the energy flow is disrupted! You need living elements!"
We compromise: couch faces TV but angled for conversation, room layout balances flow and functionality, no bachelor pad aesthetic, and I promise to buy a plant.
The desk goes in the second bedroom—Melissa's right, proper office space makes sense. My comic collection gets temporary shelving until I can buy real bookcases.
By 3 PM, we're exhausted.
Penny appears at the door with a six-pack. "Heard there was furniture-related chaos. Brought supplies."
"Penny!" Raj lights up. "You should see Stuart's new place!"
She whistles, scanning the space. "Damn. You really did level up. This is—Stuart, this is a penthouse."
"I'm aware."
"Last time I saw you, you were in that depressing studio." She hands me a beer. "Now you're living like an actual successful person."
"Fake it till you make it?"
"You're not faking anymore."
We order pizza because nobody has energy to cook.
Five pies for six people. Pepperoni, supreme, veggie (Raj), Hawaiian (controversial), and Sheldon's custom order with exactly three toppings arranged in specific patterns.
"This is nice," Melissa says, settling onto the futon. "First meal in the new place."
Leonard raises his beer. "To Stuart's inexplicable success."
"Hey—"
"I'm joking. Mostly." He grins. "To Stuart's well-deserved success and continued baffling investment wins."
"The Bitcoin thing is still imaginary money," Howard adds.
"It's worth thirty cents per coin now," I mention casually.
Dead silence.
"That's—wait." Leonard's calculating. "How many coins did you buy?"
"Some."
"Stuart."
"Enough that it's up six times my investment."
Howard chokes on his pizza. Raj starts praying in Hindi. Sheldon pulls out his phone calculator.
"Your initial investment was approximately fifteen hundred dollars," Sheldon states. "Six times return equals nine thousand dollars. That's a 500% gain in eight months."
"Math checks out."
"That's not luck. That's statistical anomaly."
"Or good timing."
"Stuart." Leonard's serious now. "You're up nine thousand on Bitcoin, how much on Apple?"
"Don't answer that," Melissa interrupts. "It's his money. Let him enjoy the pizza."
"Thank you."
But the mood's shifted. They're all watching me differently. Calculating. Wondering.
Too specific. Keep revealing wins and they'll start asking harder questions.
Penny breaks the tension: "Whatever Stuart's doing, it's working. Maybe we should all listen to his crazy investment ideas."
"I advised you to buy Apple at twelve dollars," I remind her.
"And I spent that money on auditions instead."
"Fair choice."
"Terrible choice, in hindsight."
The conversation shifts to Penny's acting career, relieving the pressure. But I catch Leonard and Sheldon exchanging glances.
They're noticing the pattern.
Need to be more careful.
After everyone leaves, Melissa and I stand on the balcony.
The city spreads below us—lights beginning to glow in the November dusk. Somewhere down there is the studio apartment I left this morning. Four hundred square feet of rock bottom.
"Fourteen months," I say.
"What?"
"Fourteen months ago, I was broke and terrified. Living in that studio, opening a shop I was convinced would fail."
"And now you're here."
"And now I'm here."
She leans against the railing. "You know what's crazy? Watching you transform. You weren't like this when we met."
"Like what?"
"Confident. Successful. Like you belong in a penthouse." She turns to face me. "Sometimes I wonder who you were before. Before the shop, before the success. You don't talk about it much."
The tingle flares. Warning.
Don't explain. Deflect.
"Nobody likes who they were when they were failing. I'm just glad I'm not that person anymore."
"But you were that person for a reason. What changed?"
Everything. I died and absorbed temporal knowledge in the void between dimensions.
"I started trying. Really trying. Stopped accepting failure as inevitable." I pull her close. "And I met you. That changed things."
She accepts this. Kisses my cheek.
But the question lingers between us.
Who was Stuart Bloom before I became him?
What happened to create this transformation?
She's right to wonder.
And I can never tell her.
Inside, my phone buzzes. Probably Sheldon with his furniture optimization schedule or Leonard checking on something.
The penthouse waits behind us. Two thousand square feet of proof that I've succeeded.
That I'm worthy of this life.
That the powers made me someone better.
Or someone else entirely.
"Come on," Melissa says. "Let's christen the bedroom properly."
"I thought you'd never ask."
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