The Pyramid Scheme Incident

Maya's older brother Jay burst through the front door, eyes wide with that terrifying enthusiasm that usually meant Maya was about to regret everything.

"Yo, little sis, I've got it GOLDEN." He waved a crumpled flyer like he'd discovered the cure for boredom. "This energy drink company? They're looking for young entrepreneurs. We build our team, they build our future. It's a pyramid—"

"A pyramid scheme," Maya deadpaned, not looking up from her phone. "Hard pass, Jay."

"Not a SCHEME, a pyramid STRUCTURE. Like, leadership levels." He flopped onto the couch beside her. "Bro, you're sixteen now. Time to secure the bag. This dude Marcus—he drives a Tesla, Maya—a TESLA—and he says if we recruit three people, and they recruit three people..." Jay launched into an explanation that sounded suspiciously like multiplication but with more hand gestures.

Maya sighed. "What's the catch?"

"We just need to buy the starter kit. It's only—"

"HOW much?"

"Two hundred. But Maya, think about the RESIDUAL INCOME."

She rolled her eyes so hard it actually hurt. "Jay, last month you were dropshipping phone cases. Before that, it was those 'investment opportunities' on TikTok. Before that—"

"Okay but I'm LEARNING from those experiences. That's called growth, Maya. Ever heard of it?"

Her phone buzzed. Her crush, Kai, had replied to her story. Maya's stomach did that embarrassing little flip it always did lately.

"Fine," Jay said, watching her face. "I'll pay you back Friday when Marcus cuts the first checks. Deal?"

"I swear to god, Jay..."

"It's gonna be legendary. We're gonna be those siblings on Instagram. You know the ones. '#twinning #entrepreneur #bossenergy.'"

Maya groaned but grabbed her backpack. "If I'm not paid back by Friday, I'm telling Mom you used her credit card for those 'exclusive' NFTs."

Jay's face went pale. "We don't need to bring up ancient history. That was a different Jay. That Jay was still in his growth era."

"This Jay too," she muttered, but followed him out the door anyway.

Because that's the thing about brothers—even when they're absolutely, positively about to ruin everything, you still show up. Mostly because you want front-row seats when the inevitable disaster strikes. And maybe, just maybe, because part of you hopes that one day, one of their actually-terrible ideas might somehow work out.

(Narrator: It did not work out. But that's a story for Friday.)