Dillon Cole, Tech Invester

Bro was pretty high-key, but free energy pills? Why not? If they work I might even play his company. Ha! Then again, I might invest a few coins in it anyway, if the math works.

Dillon Cole rolled three blue pills around in his hand as he told his driver to take him and his date to his favorite after-party lounge. The woman next to him -- a twenty-year-old Japanese singer wearing a knitted cap, shiny black tracksuit, and two pounds of costume jewelry -- stopped scrolling on her phone and gave him an insulted look.

"Bruh! Got any for me?" she asked.

"No way, Ami. These are some kind of intense energy pills," said Dillon, "so I can keep up with you later tonight. And they're supposed to be fat pills, too. You get any skinnier you'll snap in half!"

The girl stuck her tongue out at the awkward compliment and returned to her feed, while the man next to her took out his own phone.

Might as well check the rolls. Coin is slaying today. Freakin' data-centers are crashing, though. I'll have to grease my man in Washington tomorrow. And how about Polly...oh, fuck yeah! That's ten grand for all the words, baby! I knew he'd say that shit today! God, I love politics!

As Cole thrilled at his digital payoffs, he put his hairy hand on Ami's leg and gave it a squeeze. He knew he was a little too pudgy for 5'9", and maybe he was not the most handsome guy, and a little hairy, but at this rate he was going to be a billionaire by the time he was thirty, and he figured that made him more attractive than any random actor or muscle-head.

He glanced at his petite companion and smiled.

Baby, I am so going to town on you tonight! And if these pills work as advertised, I'm doing it all night long!