Zero to Billionaire

Chapter 5

John was startled out of sleep when he heard his alarm clock's incessant buzzing around his flat. It was the day. The day of the potentially career-defining presentation. Feeling an exhalation of tense energy, he tossed off the blankets. His body buzzed with a powerful mix of fear and adrenaline in every muscle. 

He shaved and washed like a man getting ready for a battle. Choosing a tie had significant symbolic meaning — a striped design represented self-assurance, a subdued blue hue represented professionalism. John, looking dapper in his finest suit, had a glimpse of the John he knew back then, the John who would confidently go into meetings. It was now more important to him to prove his value and win back his lost confidence than it was to simply get a promotion.

A glimmer of optimism sprang in his chest as he checked his phone. Sarah's message. "Have a great day, sweetie! Make me proud and knock them dead!" It thrilled him with a false hope, the first really encouraging note she'd sent in weeks. Perhaps things were getting better between them. Perhaps their relationship would also undergo a change as a result of this elevation. 

Arriving early at the workplace, the usual surroundings seemed somehow foreign to him because of the approaching presentation. Upon arriving at their workstations, he saw Mark fumbling with a pen, his grin little too broad and slightly too frantic. John suppressed the unease that crept into his stomach and faked a grin in reply. 

"Ready to crush it, John?" Mark questioned, a hint of something John was unable to fully identify in the back of his voice. John nodded, constriction in his throat. 

The morning passed slowly, with every second of the clock striking a blow to John's already strained emotions. He went over his slides one final time, his well thought out points like a chant in his mind. A group of well dressed people the investors entered the conference room as the scheduled meeting time drew near. Sweat beaded his hands, and his heart pounded frantically against his ribcage.

Mr. Harris introduced himself, always the perfect showman. John smirked professionally as he shook hands with each investor one by one. A sense of expectancy crackled through the room as it landed. Mr. Harris said, "Mark, why don't you kick us off?" after clearing his throat.

John felt his blood freeze. For one moment, he blinked in confusion. Mark? It had been carefully worked out between them that John would give the presentation. Mark's face flashed something dark, then flashed a brilliant grin in its place. He said, "Sure thing, Mr. Harris," his voice bursting with a confidence that John had forgotten.

As John watched, his head spinning, Mark began the presentation. He was making use of John's strategy, his thorough investigation, and his well polished arguments. However, Mark's remarks seemed meaningless since they were devoid of the fervour and conviction that John had put into them. Nevertheless, the investors were pleased as they nodded and asked Mark a series of questions that he responded to with ease.

John began to feel his stomach twist with increasing treachery as the lecture went on. His carefully built assurance gave way to the waves like a crumbling sandcastle. He stood there, seeing his own accomplishment taken from him. He saw Mark and Mr. Harris exchanging looks, an unspoken agreement between them. John saw every praise aimed at Mark as a knife to his heart.

The audience erupted in cheers as the presentation came to a conclusion. John clapped quite weakly, his hands trembling. His mind was a whirling tornado of rage and bewilderment, and he felt disembodied. Mark was glowing with a feeling of power as he took in the plaudits. John wanted to face him and accuse him aloud, but he was unable to speak. He was trapped in his own body, frozen.

With a sly smile that expressed satisfaction, Mr. Harris brushed off the investors. With a look of something like reverence in his eyes, he turned to face Mark. "Mark, great job. We'll communicate later. Then he stormed out of the room without a word to John.

There was an unbearable quiet for a while. For an instant, Mark's smile wavered, a glint of shame passing across his features before a fake grin took its place. "So, John, what say we celebrate? "Drinks are on me!" he said, giving John a painful shoulder slap that made his heart race.

John flinched away from the contact, the internal barrier eventually rupturing. With a betrayed tone, he gasped out, "How could you?" "I gave a presentation like that! My concept!" After months of festering, the wrath finally erupted. "I trusted you, Mark!"

Mark became stern-faced. "John, don't be so innocent," he mocked.This has to do with more than simply the presentation, right? This was about the opportunity to finally move out from my shadow, the glory, and the promotion. John, it seems like everything was always given to you. The simple life, the ideal girlfriend. You coasted on your attractiveness as I toiled away. This was my opportunity to make progress at last."

John felt a deep feeling of disappointment take the place of his rage. Envious and resentful, the sibling he thought he knew and the buddy he believed to be familiar was really a stranger. "So everything was staged? Is none of those jokes or the companionship real?

Mark shrugged, his previous swagger giving way to a cynical indifference. "Maybe at first it was enjoyable. I did, however, see how readily Mr. Harris chose you. How Sarah almost adored the earth under your feet. I just grew sick of being the second fiddle."

John found himself staring at the presentation screen, the product of his labours, now tarnished by Mark's treachery. What about the investors, then? Do you really believe that they won't notice your... performance? You weren't supposed to take it.

"They were impressed, weren't they?" Mark replied, his tone becoming more defensive. Moreover, it seems that Mr. Harris is supporting me. Perhaps at last he realises what a waste you've been."

John balled his hands. He resisted the overpowering temptation to strike out violently. Getting into a fistfight was pointless. The real war was lost long ago. A grim picture was created by Mr. Harris's predilection for Mark and his own incapacity to stand up for himself. But there was a glimmer of rebellion in John's eyes. 

With his voice back up, he said, "You may have stolen the presentation, Mark, but you can't take my skill or my work ethic. Eventually, they'll see right through you. And I'll be there to pick up the bits you leave behind when that occurs."

Mark felt a wave of rage flash in his eyes, but before he could respond, the door opened and Mr. Harris and the investors were visible. A stark departure from their prior confident posture, they all seemed flustered. 

"Mr. Green," Mr. Harris said, addressing Mark with a tense tone of voice, "some investors have noticed some... inconsistency in your presentation." They need certain things explained to them."

Mark's expression became colourless. John observed with a detached fascination as the façade of assurance unravelled, exposing the fractures below. Success, which he had so much desired, was evaporating from his grasp like sand. 

With a feeling of renewed determination, John adjusted his tie. Suddenly the roles had been reversed. Though it wasn't ideal, the problem wasn't finished. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for him to turn things around, to take back what was really his. He inhaled deeply and looked up at Mark. It wasn't simply about getting the promotion or winning Sarah over this time. It was about demonstrating to himself his resilience and value. Maybe the stolen spotlight would never come back, but John was going to shine his own.