Lukas looked at the receipts. She was right. He had been so focused on the feeling of being at the top that he’d forgotten the ladder was still shaky.
As Lukas watched her leave, he didn't reach for another drink. He picked up the napkin, tucked it into his pocket, and walked out into the cool night air. The smoke was gone; for the first time in months, his vision was clear.
She told him about the 'Two-Hour Rule.' Every time he felt the urge to 'smoke' his earnings on something fleeting, he had to wait two hours and spend that time learning one new skill that would make his next paycheck easier to earn.
Lukas laughed, though it felt a bit tight. "Come on, it was a celebration. We worked hard for that commission."
Lukas sat in the back of a dimly lit lounge, the air thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and the sound of clinking glasses. Across from him sat his mentor, Elena. On the table between them lay a small mountain of receipts—the physical remains of a "successful" weekend spent trying to look the part of a mogul.
"You see this?" Elena asked, waving a hand through a cloud of smoke. "This is what most people do with their breakthroughs. They turn them into fog."
"So, tell me how," Lukas said, his voice dropping. "Spune-mi cum (Tell me how) to stop the burn."