What If You Fly?

What it really takes to rise.

What If You Fly?

I’m in Hong Kong right now.
And something about this city has me reflecting.

It’s wild how a place can meet you with both beauty and memory.
It pulls you into the present—and at the same time, takes you back to who you were before it all began.

I’ve been thinking about the version of me most people don’t know.

Vegas.
Wynn Hotel.
Spa attendant.

I used to show up before sunrise and open the spa for the morning rush.
Handle the details.
Keep the energy calm.
Fold towels. Spray eucalyptus. Stay invisible.

And every day, these wealthy men would walk in—
businessmen, investors, athletes, power players.

I made it my ritual:
Serve them well.
And then ask the question:
“What’s your favorite book?”

That was the hustle.

I’d stack my tips, hit Barnes & Noble after work,
buy whatever book they named,
and read it front to back.

That’s how I fed my mind.
That’s how I started shaping a future no one could see but me.

My brother Angel was working there with me during that time.

(Still one of my closest friends to this day) 

We were both deep in it—clocking in, grinding quietly, dreaming loud in our heads.

We once sat down and wrote letters from our future selves to our present selves.

Mine said:
“We’re grinding now so that one day
whether it’s Wednesday at 2pm or Friday at noon
we can go see a movie… just because.
Because we own our time.
Because we’re no longer surviving—we’re free.”