[Intro]
Debrief. The coffee.
I've cross-examined CFOs. I've broken vendors on price with a pause.
I just went two rounds with a college kid holding a hot chocolate
and I need to report the score honestly. Sit down, me.
[Verse 1]
Found her Tuesday through the mutuals — study group, campus café, easy
And I ran it warm: "You were at the summit — staff lanyard, right? Buy you something?"
And she looked at me maybe two seconds — TWO — and something in her face just... filed me.
"Sure," she said. "You're the front-row woman. Platinum badge. You watch him at the new gym."
COLD OPEN. From a CHILD. She clocked my seat, my badge, my GYM —
"I know what this is," she said, not unkindly. "I wrote a whole year of what this is."
[Verse 2]
So I dropped the warm and went direct, because direct is what I have:
"Fine. Then help me understand it. What's the play? What did you DO?"
And she stirred her hot chocolate and told me EVERYTHING. No leverage. No hold-back.
"I watched him for a season, which was wrong. Then I said morning, which was hard.
Then I asked him a question I'd done homework on. That's it. That's the whole thing."
And I waited for the rest. There's always a rest. She sipped. There was no rest.
[Chorus]
Two files, one table — hers open, mine encrypted
I came to extract and she just HANDED it across
And it can't be the whole play, except I've run the diligence and it's the whole play
A question, homework, and a year of showing up with nothing hidden
I don't have a category for a person with no angle
She's not naive — she SAW me in two seconds — she's just... clean
Two files
(...one of them is readable. Noted.)
[Verse 3]
And then I did the thing I'm not proud of, and I'm logging it anyway:
"You know you're just a kid to them, right? The house? A mascot. A cute story."
And I watched it LAND — it landed, she's human, her jaw did the thing —
And she held it, breathed once, and said: "Maybe. I earn the room I'm in, though.
Every week. Out loud. What do you earn — the seat? The seats are just BOUGHT, right?"
And ceiling or whatever this is — the KID drew blood. Clean cut. Didn't even raise her voice.
[Verse 4]
And at the door — because of course, because it runs in that whole bloodline now —
she turned around, guileless as sunrise, and asked me:
"Can I ask you something real? What are you trying to accomplish? Like — actually?"
THE FIVE WORDS. From the KID. Secondhand. Inherited. Aimed TRUE.
And I said "I'll let you know," which is lawyer for nothing, and she nodded like HE nods
and said "he asked me that once too. Best thing that ever happened to me. Good luck."
GOOD LUCK. She wished me GOOD LUCK. She meant it. That's the worst part. SHE MEANT IT.
[Chorus]
Two files, one table — and the readable one read ME
Down to the badge, down to the gym, down to the vault I keep encrypted
She paid in a currency I've finally got a name for:
nothing hidden. That's it. That's the withheld ingredient. NOTHING HIDDEN.
And I have never once entered a room without a concealed position
Two files
(...noted. The kid's file goes back in the drawer. Mine stays out.)
(...mine stays out.)
The_SCAR
