The Pyramid Scheme of My Social Life

Leo's life had become a geometric nightmare of his own making. First, his mom had started selling those weird supplement gummies—cloud-shaped **vitamin** things that tasted like artificial strawberry and the crushed dreams of 40-year-olds everywhere. Then she'd dragged him into the family business, which meant wearing polos that were three sizes too big at weekend "wellness expos" in hotel conference rooms that smelled like desperation and cheap perfume.

"We're building our financial **pyramid**, Leo!" she'd announced over dinner, completely missing that pyramids were, historically, where they buried people.

The worst part wasn't even the embarrassing car rides home or the way she made him practice his "elevator pitch" on unsuspecting relatives at Thanksgiving. It was that everyone at school knew. His Instagram feed was suddenly filled with posts from his mom's "wellness warriors" squad, complete with before-and-after photos that made zero sense because the people looked exactly the same.

His **iPhone** buzzed in his pocket during third period US History. Maya, the girl he'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade, had finally replied to his message from two days ago.

hey sorry!! saw your mom's posts lol are u seriously selling those gummy things

Leo died inside. Not figuratively. He felt his soul detach from his body and float toward the ceiling tiles, leaving behind an empty shell of a boy who would never recover from this level of social suicide.

His thumbs hovered over the screen, leaving little smudge marks on the glass. What could he even say? Yeah, my mom has lost her mind and I'm her unwilling child employee, want to go to homecoming together and maybe bond over our shared trauma?

Instead he typed: haha it's complicated

lmao i bet. anyway did u do the history worksheet?

The conversation drifted back to normal, but Leo's face still burned like he'd been sitting too close to a campfire. That night, he confronted his mom in the kitchen while she arranged gummy bottles into aesthetic little pyramids on the counter.

"You can't post about me, okay? This is embarrassing."

His mom looked up from her laptop, where she was composing another motivational post about "leveling up your wellness journey." Her face softened, the MLM enthusiasm fading into something that looked like actual concern.

"I didn't realize it bothered you, Leo. I'm just trying to build something for us. Your dad's been gone two years, and—"

"I know," he said, deflating. "But maybe this isn't the way."

The next week, Leo found the courage to ask Maya to study for finals together at the library. They sat across from each other, textbooks spread out, his phone mostly ignored on the table except for the occasional buzz.

"So," Maya said, tapping her pen against her chin and kind of smiling. "Those gummies actually helped my little sister sleep better. She stopped having those nightmares about clowns."

Leo blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah." She actually laughed, and it was better than any artificial strawberry flavor he'd ever tasted. "Maybe your mom's onto something. Or maybe it's placebo. Either way, not total garbage."

Leo grinned, feeling something unclench in his chest. "Don't tell her that. She'll never let me hear the end of it."

His phone buzzed again with another wellness warrior notification from the family group chat. He silenced it without looking, turning back to his history textbook instead.

Some things were more important than the pyramid scheme that had temporarily taken over his life. And somehow, impossibly, he might actually survive it.