The Wellness Pyramid Scheme

Maya's phone buzzed during third period. Skyler texted: *warehouse party tonight. bring $50 for the 'investment opportunity'.*

Maya should've known. Skyler's Instagram had been suspicious lately — photos with 'CEO' in bio, vague captions about 'financial freedom at 17,' and way too many emojis.

The warehouse smelled like essential oils and desperation. Thirty teenagers sat cross-legged on yoga mats while a guy in an oversized suit pointed at a whiteboard.

''This isn't a pyramid scheme,'' he announced, gesturing to the triangle diagram behind him. ''It's a PYRAMID of success. You recruit three friends, they recruit three friends, exponential growth, boom — you're driving a Tesla by graduation.''

Maya's aunt's sphinx cat, Potato, had more business sense than these people. Potato was naked, wrinkly, and frankly judgmental, but at least he never tried to sell anyone overpriced vitamins.

''My mom started with nothing,'' Skyler said, standing up. Her eyes were too bright. ''Now she makes six figures. I'm looking for three motivated individuals to join my inner circle.''

The circle was literal. They'd arranged themselves in a pyramid formation on the floor. Maya was supposed to be at the bottom, holding up people's feet.

''This is bull,'' Maya said.

Everyone stared.

''Bull?'' Skyler's face crumbled.

''Yeah. My uncle did this. Lost three grand. Your mom's 'six figures'? That's gross revenue, not profit. And those Tesla photos? They're from the dealership lot.'' Maya stood up. ''I'm out.''

She left. Her phone blew up with texts — Skyler calling her a hater, saying she'd never be successful, that she was playing small.

Maya went home, petted Potato (who purred, smug little jerk), and ordered herself a pizza with the $50 she'd almost thrown away.

Some things in life were worth investing in. A pyramid scheme wasn't one of them.

And honestly? Potato made a better business partner than any CEO on Instagram.