The roar of the crowd still echoed in Lukas' ears when the Mercedes rolled up to the Four Seasons. The match had ended hours ago, but adrenaline clung to him like smoke. His hoodie was damp with sweat under the coat, his body aching from impact, but it was the good kind of pain—the kind that reminded you you were still in the game.
Roy opened the door, and Lukas stepped out into the warm Philadelphia night. The city felt electric. But he wasn't thinking about the game anymore. Not the goal. Not even the thunderous entrance with "Time to Play the Game" shaking the stadium.
His mind was already back in the suite, on the laptop he had left open.
The Facebook launch had been a quiet failure just 24 hours ago. Zero users. A billion-dollar blueprint staring back at him with nothing behind it. A ghost of an idea.
He'd tried not to think about it. Buried himself in the match. In the noise. But now, with the crowd gone and silence creeping in, it returned.
