The phone buzzed again. Caller ID: Dad. This time it felt louder. A bead of sweat slid down Kabir’s back. Why is he calling twice? He knows this meeting. Normalcy bias engaged: Dad is fine. He was fine this morning. He’s just old and forgetful. If I answer, I lose momentum. I’ll call back in twenty minutes. Decline. He flipped the phone face down. “Sorry about that,” he smiled, tight and charming. “Persistence is a virtue, usually.” The investors chuckled. They liked that. Focus. Priorities. Mission over distraction. Kabir leaned into the pitch, each sentence polished. “We are not just building an app; we are building an ecosystem.” He watched their faces for micro-signals. He was winning. When he finished, the lead investor—Mr. Goel, who’d made his fortune in mining—stood up and shook his hand. “Impressive numbers, son. I think we have a deal.” Dopamine exploded in Kabir’s brain. Status. Validation. The game rewarded him. Tomorrow, he told himself, I’ll be the perfect son. Tomorrow is a word that comforts men who postpone love.