Game on, Twombly||Stuart Twombly

Chapter Nine

A few days go by with no challenges and free time. Chetty insisted since I got hurt and wound up in the hospital.

So, here we sit in our office space, trying to think of apps to create for our next challenge. It's already five in the afternoon, and we've got nothing.

"All right, guys," Billy says. "Let's take this new team spirit and let's apply it to this next app challenge." He pats Stuart's shoulder. "We've got this."

"Yo, it'd help if we had an idea for an app," Stuart says, looking down at his phone. What else is new?

"You bet your sweet ass it would, Stewie," Nick says, making Stuart cringe.

"No. Never Stewie."

"Okay, you don't like Stewie. Perimeter breach acknowledged, Stuart. It'll feel good when this one warms up to me," Nick says, looking at Billy, who is laughing. "You know it's going to happen, right? I'll break you down like a two by four broncho, watch me do it."

Stuart looks up from his phone at Nick with a confused face. None of us have any idea what he's saying.

"Come on, guys, let's brain storm this puppy," Billy says.

"We're gonna put the coffee in the pot, and we're gonna let it perkily. Let's go!"

"I think it will be helpful to explore what apps have been popular in the past," Yo-Yo says, starting to go to the white board.

"We can bin it, you know? Categorize needle movers by type of user," Neha says, following Yo-Yo.

"There you go, Neha. Hit both by function and by user," Lyle says. "Two prong..."

I tune him out for a second, another headache coming. It's been happening a lot since my concussion.

"Alright, guys, I don't wanna kill the momentum or the mojo that you have cooking, but, to be fair with you, needles and categories, they don't use apps. People use apps," Billy starts to say. "So, I have an idea. Now a days, people are taking pictures, right? They have their phones now. They're out. Something catches their eye. They wanna take it. But then the photo's just sitting there. What if they take that photo and instantaneously put it out there on the line, and they share it with their friends?"

Stuart looks up from his spot on one of the roller chairs, where he sits next to me. "That's Instagram. It already exists. It's one of the most popular apps in the world. Facebook bought 'em for like a billion dollars. That's billon, with a 'b'," he explains.

"Oh, no, no, no. Mine is very different from that."

"How is yours something very different from that?" Yo-Yo asks, obviously sounding doubtful.

"'Cause on mine, you're taking the photo instantaneously and putting the photo out there on the line," Billy explains, throwing his marker in the air.

"It's online," Lyle says.

"Yeah, I'm putting my photos out on the line, and I'm creating an exchange."

"Yeah, that's Instagram," I say, my legs having goosebumps on them from being in short, white shorts with beige flowers on them. My feet are adorned with floral, white wedges, and I wear a floral, embroidered shirt with a beige cardigan. My hair is in a half up and half down again, in loose waves. I wear pink, flower earrings with small diamonds in the middle, my rings still on my fingers.

"But mine's more of a social sharing on the line that's happening—"

"Online," Lyle interjects.

"Quick interjection, when you keep saying 'on the line' you do mean online?" Stuart asks.

"Stuart, don't do that! You don't do that to a man. He's got a million dollar idea right here!" Nick exclaims.