Joe sprinting through sunny San Francisco streets
Joe sprints through rain-slick Shanghai streets, dying bouquet flapping wildly in his fist, lungs on fire as he weaves between scooters and neon-lit crowds.
Joe running desperately through rainy Shanghai night streets
One year earlier. San Francisco. SoMa district. Fintech startup heaven.
Joe reclines in his ergonomic throne, blonde hair artfully messy, glasses catching the glow of multiple monitors, stock options vesting like clockwork.
“Another all-time high quarter,” he mutters to himself, smirking. “Life is good.”
Younger, confident Joe in San Francisco office
His phone lights up. A DM from a profile that stops his breath: Jen. Sleek black hair, razor-sharp gaze, bio reading “Shanghai entrepreneur | Building tomorrow”.
*Hey, Oxford boy. Heard you’re the AI whisperer. My company’s scouting talent. Drink?*
Joe’s grin spreads ear to ear.
“Jackpot.”
He types back, fingers flying.
*Absolutely. When are you in town?*
*Next week. Don’t make me wait.*
He had no idea.
The silk-lined trap was already closing—Jen, Mei, Xia, Ling all waiting in perfect formation.
Just like he’s running now—only this time, away from a bill he can’t pay.