empire

February - July 2087. Justin Kim is 27, Stephanie Nova is 27, Willow is 5, Lily is 5, Benji is 11 months. 

previously: the damage, part 1 // the damage, part 2 // there you are // his parents moved up north

Justin wanted to believe that he might look back on this time, years from now, and recognize it as the launching point of the best part of his life. Doesn't every great success story have an absolute low from which a person can only rise? In twenty years, when he’d made himself a successful career as CEO of several companies and holdings, when he gazed out over the landscape of his success—a warm and spacious home, happy children, spoiled wife, a yacht, a vintage Ferrari 250 convertible in red, and another one in yellow just for good measure—he’d look back on this moment and feel humbled and proud that he made it so far. So much treasure built with his own two hands. That moment, if it ever happened, felt so very far away right now. 

Justin sat in front of his former boss, uneasy about the look of remorse on his face. “I’m so glad to hear that you’ve recovered,” Adam said. “But I’m so sorry to say, the job you had before doesn’t exist anymore.” 

Adam went on for a while about the legalities. He knew that a person couldn't be fired while on medical leave, and he wanted Justin to understand that wasn't what was happening here at all. But there's a loophole, of course, if the job in question simply ceased to exist. “There’s been so much restructuring in the last year," he explained. "Now the build crews are headed up by an architect and archaeologist. The crew level jobs are much lower than where you left off, and the senior positions all require specialized degrees. I really wish I had something better to offer you. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in going back to school?”

Justin always loved to learn, but a graduate degree, all that time and expense, just wasn’t in the cards for them right now. 

Adam continued, “I’d be honored to write you a letter of recommendation for whatever you find. Of course, you’re welcome to your pick of any positions I have available, whether it be crew work or retail, if it would help.”

“Thanks," Justin said. "I’ll hold you to that recommendation letter if anything comes up.”

So it was back to the drawing board. All of Justin's work experience of twenty-seven years would give him terrific advantages. Like helping Willow with her kindergarten math and settling sibling disputes. 

In any case, whatever Justin ever set his efforts to, he did an excellent job. And homemaking, well, he was excellent at that too, of course. 

He was attentive and patient with the kids. 

He was a tidy housekeeper. Meticulous, in fact. Their home was sparkling clean. 

And when the kids were all in bed, in between Benji's feedings and wakings, and Stephanie hadn't yet returned from work, he even found an hour or two of "me time" to reward himself with a game or TV show. 

But as good as he was at this, he couldn't say that it fulfilled him.  

Was it so wrong to want more? Was it greedy? Shouldn't he be happy enough, after everything, that they were blessed with so much comfort and health? 

Every morning, when he checked his email, his job leads were dead. All of them. Dead ends everywhere. Either he didn’t have the right degree, or he had the right degree and there were no vacancies. 

He didn't know what else he could do. So he did nothing. And that was when, out of the blue, something changed. 

The blog was a little distraction he started on a whim. It was nothing. He wasn't even the best writer. But it gave him a necessary outlet to stretch his creativity and express his thoughts. It was a nice break from the monotony of domestic life. He wrote about life sparingly, as sensitive as he was about their recent upsets. But mostly, he enjoyed talking about his hobbies—home projects he tinkered around with in his spare time, upcycles, upgrades, even a full room remodel if he could scrounge up the energy. Along with some funny anecdotes about the kids. His readers said his ideas were inspiring, and his writing was honest and charming. 

His follower count grew modestly. He started to acquire regulars, familiar names who came back post after post. It made him feel like he existed in the world, no matter how remote and invisible he felt in real life. His little corner of the internet was comfortable and quiet, so he never expected the attention that came from one post in particular. A remodel of the girl's bedroom. 

He shared some photos of the bright purple room. The girls compromised on the color together, after much debate—and that blog post, how to accomplish compromise between two five-year-olds—was very popular with his parent readers. Lily picked the curtains, and Willow chose the dangling paper lantern light fixture. Justin's contribution was the handiwork, of course. He built them a space-saving double corner bed set, with plenty of shelving for their treasures. 

His readers loved it! They needed to know more. What kind of wood did he use? How did he put it together? Could he make up a little tutorial to share? 

"Sure, when the baby goes to sleep," he said. 

For the first time in a really long time, he felt extraordinary. Not that his work in the home was meaningless, but this feeling was different. This was Justin—all of his skill, his talents, his creativity, his innovation, his practice and experience and hard work. He felt truly seen. 

And that feeling, for a man like Justin, was motivating. He needed more. 

Now that his parents had completed their move up north, Justin had no idea what a game changer it would be to call his mom and say, "Hey, Mom, can you come watch the kids for a bit? I have to go see a guy about a thing." 

"You're going out looking like that?" Cynthia said. "I don't know what thing you have in mind, but a shave wouldn't hurt and you have baby spit up all over that sweat shirt." 

She was right, of course. Staying home with the kids all this time had really dragged down his appearance. 

Justin took a quick shower and dug some real clothes out of the back of his closet. No time for a shave just yet, but he found some clean khaki pants, a shirt with buttons, and a jacket. Most importantly, he didn't smell like baby spit up. 

First, he went to see a guy about a set of used tools and spare parts. He snagged an awesome deal by offering some upgrades around their property in exchange. 

Then he went to see Adam—not about a job, but about a business opportunity. He told Adam about some of his handiwork, his carpentry, his technical upgrades, and the blog. He asked if he could sell a few pieces in the HPS gift shop. Adam was totally on board! 

Then Justin ran into a woman who owned a newspaper. He asked if she might be interested in covering a story on his new little enterprise. 

"Well, what is it?" she asked. 

What was it? Part blog and media extravaganza, part carpentry and real-life technical service—his vision was still feeling a little muddy. But it was something. It was going to be something, he just knew it. "I guess I don't really know just yet," he said. "But can I give you a call in a few months?"

He might be getting a bit ahead of himself, but he wouldn't let that stop him. 

He brought home all the tools, the spare parts, the nuts and bolts and pieces, and piled them onto the dining room table. 

"Can I play with it?" Willow asked, eyeing a saw that was nearly as tall as she was. 

"Ew, it smells bad in here," Lily whined. 

"Are you sure that smoke isn't toxic for the kids?" Cynthia said. 

"It's fine!" Justin promised them. "It's gonna be awesome!"

So Justin set to work. Chopping, dismantling, splicing, mending, refinishing, refining.

Stephanie came home from her dinner shift around eleven, smelling like steak and garlic. Justin felt hungry, realizing that he's skipped dinner, but he didn't want to take a break. 

"What are you building?" Stephanie asked. 

What is it? Well, he intended to take the microchips from this TV, then he had to craft a piece of furniture, then there might be some splicing and welding, and if he was lucky, it would all be functional. 

But what was it? He didn't quite know yet. 

By morning, the dining room was still in pieces and he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. At risk of electrocuting himself, he better call it a night. 

He had to remind himself that a masterpiece isn't built in a day. This was all going to amount to something, some day. But maybe not tonight. 

—

The months came and went. The children grew. 

Justin took things apart, and put them back together. He scrapped more than he finished, but he never let that stop him. He had a vision. And he promised Stephanie that she would have her dining room table back soon. 

When spring came, he moved his tools outside, under an awning to keep the rain off. He dreamed of a workshop, a showroom floor. He dreamed of white trucks with his company name on the side. What he would call that company... well, he didn't know just yet. 

Every little repair or remodel that was needed around the house, he thought of how he might write about it on the blog. Tutorials, tips. His audience grew and grew, and the ad revenue started to trickle in. Five dollars, twelve dollars, eighteen dollars. It wasn't a paycheck, yet, but he had his mind set on some day. 

And Stephanie got her dining room table back. 

His mother helped with the kids when Stephanie was working. He still hadn't shaved. He suspected some of his female followers might appreciate the lumberjack look.  

He made deals with local gift shops and art shops. Carved wooden hearts, painted in rainbow—sold!

While visiting South Carolina for a wedding, he made some more deals. Self-sharpening knife blocks for the culinary crowd—sold!

He even usually made it home from his errands in time to tuck the kids into bed. 

And his few hours of "me time" he had before Stephanie came home, he spent writing, editing, planning instead of watching TV or playing video games. He read his old college textbooks on business and marketing. He felt torn between two images — a north woods lumberjack, and a someday CEO. Who was he? Neither? Both? Maybe he would shave the scruff after all.  

Soon, the five - twelve - eighteen dollars added up to enough to buy himself a recording camera. That zapped the entirety of his months of profits, but he considered it reinvestment in his business.  

The video tutorials were really a hit! Twenty-seven, sixty-four, seventy-five dollars. Then his ad revenue regularly brought in three-digits paychecks. He sunk all of it into a powerful computer setup, camera upgrades, and editing software. 

Back to break-even, but not defeated. 

He got breakfast ready for the kids while Stephanie slept in. 

Then she took the kids in the afternoon while he did some work. Together, they were a perfect team. But he already knew that.

At some point, when the start-up costs were finally covered, Justin finally got to keep some of his paychecks. 

"Somebody was asking about the woodwork. What should I tell them? Did you ever name your blog?" 

"Yes! It's called The Modern Woodsman: blending old world craftsmanship with cutting edge technologies. I specialize in tutorials, merchandise, service, and consulting to bring homes into the future."

"Sounds great! You should put that on a business card!"

Then it seemed, finally, Justin knew what he was doing, where this was going, and what to call it. He tried and tried but could never find the right job, so it seemed he would just have to build his own empire instead. 

With the hustle and bustle of their growing lives, they had to remember to take some down time. Stephanie always reminded him when it was time to slow down. "I think we've both earned a weekend off," she said. 

So she hung up her apron and he unplugged from his blog. They left their work behind and took the kids to the island for the weekend. 

After so much struggle, so much pain, so much uncertainty, so long waiting for their future to finally start, Justin and Stephanie finally saw everything. What they would build together was going to be incredible. 

—

story notes, looking into the future: I filmed most of these scenes long long before I finally got around to writing this update (like, 2018, lol!), so Eco Lifestyle wasn't out at the time. Now that it is, you better believe Justin has his eye on a fancy new Fabricator. So watch his profits tank down to nothing all over again, lol! He is really enjoying himself, but unfortunately, the start-up costs in this line of work are very high! I don't have any doubts that he'll make a success of it, but it's going to take some time!