Chapter 3 – Starting My Path
"We're here…" Leonard murmured as he paid the taxi.
The vehicle pulled away slowly, leaving the newly graduated young man standing before the old family house. The night air was cold, and the façade of the home seemed even more distant than he remembered. The interior lights were on, but they gave off no warmth.
"Well… time to go in." Leonard adjusted his suit and walked toward the door.
The sound of the key turning in the lock echoed in the silence. As he opened it, he was greeted by the familiar smell of the house: a mix of dust, old wood, and neglect. He stepped inside and heard voices coming from the living room.
"Leonard? Is that you?" his mother asked from the sofa, her tone indifferent.
"Yes, it's me." Leonard replied calmly, moving toward them.
His mother looked him up and down, surprised by his appearance. "You look… different. What did you do with your hair?"
"I cut it. And I don't need glasses anymore." Leonard smiled, trying to ease the tension.
His older brother appeared from the kitchen, a beer can in hand. "Well, the prodigy kid is back. How was graduation?"
"Good. It was an important day for me." Leonard spoke firmly, without losing composure.
His mother frowned. "Important… and why? In the end, everyone graduates. It's nothing extraordinary."
"For me, it is." Leonard looked straight at her, with a confidence he had never shown before. "It's the beginning of my career, of my real life."
Silence filled the room for a few seconds. His brother laughed sarcastically. "Real life… and what do you plan to do? Keep playing scientist?"
"I'm going to work at Caltech." Leonard answered without hesitation.
His mother raised an eyebrow. "Caltech? And how do you plan to support yourself? You can't depend on the university forever."
"I've already thought about that." Leonard stepped closer to the table and set down his wallet. "I have plans. I know how to generate extra income. I won't repeat past mistakes."
His brother stared at him in disbelief. "And since when do you talk with such confidence?"
"Since I decided I won't let anyone define me." Leonard looked him straight in the eye. "Not you, not Mom, not anyone."
The tension was palpable. His mother shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, unsettled by her son's firmness. "Always so dramatic… but fine, if you've got it all planned, go ahead."
"Yes, I will." Leonard took a deep breath. "Because this time I won't let the coldness of this house hold me back."
His brother took a sip of beer and shrugged. "Do whatever you want. Just don't expect applause."
"I don't need applause." Leonard smiled calmly. "I just need to follow my path."
Silence returned to the room. Leonard knew he wouldn't get support, but he wasn't seeking it. What he wanted was to make clear that he was no longer the same. That the insecure Leonard was gone.
"I'm going to rest. Tomorrow will be a long day." Leonard headed to his room, leaving his family in the living room.
His mother watched him as he walked away. "Definitely… he looks different."
Leonard closed the door to his room and dropped onto the bed. The cold atmosphere of the house surrounded him, but inside him burned a fire. A fire that pushed him forward.
"Tomorrow… it all begins."
"Is that… Leonard?" his mother thought, watching from the sofa.
The son who had walked through the door was not the same one she remembered. Taller, stronger, with a different bearing. His trimmed hair, the impeccable suit, and the absence of glasses made him look like someone entirely new. For the first time in years, she felt a flicker of unease.
"He looks… different," she murmured, though her tone remained cold.
His older brother stared in disbelief, beer can still in hand. "What happened to him? He used to look like a bookworm, now he looks… important."
The sarcasm was there, but behind it was surprise. Leonard no longer projected insecurity. His voice was firm, his gestures assured, his gaze clear. It was as if he had shed years of doubt in a single day.
"He speaks with confidence… I've never seen him like this," his mother thought, unsettled.
The family was used to a Leonard who asked for permission, who hesitated, who hid behind his glasses. The young man before them asked for nothing. He declared. He affirmed. He imposed himself naturally.
"And since when does he look at us like that?" his brother wondered, noticing the firmness in Leonard's eyes.
The silence in the room was heavy. Every word Leonard had spoken left a mark. It wasn't a grand speech, but it was a reminder that he no longer depended on them. That he had taken control of his life.
"Definitely… he's not the same anymore," his mother thought, with a mix of irritation and recognition.
His brother took another sip of beer, trying to mask his discomfort. "I don't know what happened… but now he looks like he believes in himself."
The family didn't say it aloud, but they thought it: Leonard had changed. And that change unsettled them. The coldness they had always used as a shield no longer seemed enough against the confidence he radiated.
"Maybe… we can't control him anymore," his mother reflected, though she quickly pushed the thought aside.
Leonard had returned to the cold house, but not as the insecure son they had ignored for years. Now he was someone different, someone who forced them to see him with new eyes.
"Hello? Leonard Hofstadter?" asked a serious voice on the other end of the line.
"Yes, that's me." Leonard replied calmly, holding the phone firmly.
"We're calling from the California Institute of Technology, Caltech," the voice continued. "We wanted to inform you that we've reviewed your application and recommendations. We're pleased to say you've been selected to join our experimental physics department."
"Really? That's… incredible." Leonard smiled, though his tone remained professional.
"Yes, Mr. Hofstadter. Your academic profile is solid, and your professors spoke very highly of you. We believe you can contribute greatly to our research."
"I truly appreciate it. Caltech has always been my goal." Leonard leaned back in his chair, letting the emotion wash over him.
"We wanted to confirm if you're available to start in the coming weeks. The initial contract will cover a trial period, with the possibility of extension depending on results."
"I'm available. In fact, I just graduated and I'm ready to begin." Leonard answered with confidence.
"Perfect. The university offers a competitive salary and benefits. We know you're in a transitional stage, so we want to ensure you have what you need to settle in Pasadena."
"That's reassuring. I'm willing to move and adapt." Leonard spoke firmly, aware this was the beginning of his new life.
"Very well. We'll send the documents by email. We'll need your confirmation in the next few days. Do you have any questions?"
"Yes… what kind of projects will I be handling?" Leonard asked, taking advantage of his new mental clarity.
"Mainly experiments related to quantum optics and superconductivity. We know you have experience in those fields, and we want you to join a team already working on them."
"That sounds perfect. I'm eager to start." Leonard smiled, imagining the possibilities.
"Then welcome to Caltech, Mr. Hofstadter."
"Thank you. I won't let you down." Leonard replied firmly before the call ended.
Silence filled the room once more. Leonard set the phone on the table and took a deep breath. Emotion surged through him, but so did the certainty that he was ready.
"I did it… the future is in my hands," he murmured, gazing at the ceiling.
His mother, who had overheard part of the conversation from the hallway, frowned. "Caltech? Did they really accept you?"
"Yes. I start in a few weeks." Leonard replied calmly.
His brother appeared with the beer can in hand. "Well… looks like the bookworm got something big."
"I'm no bookworm anymore." Leonard looked at him firmly. "I'm a scientist… and I'm going to prove it."
----
The silence filled the house once more. For the first time, his family looked at him with a mix of surprise and respect. Leonard knew they wouldn't change overnight, but he no longer needed their approval.
"Pasadena… here I come," he murmured, with a confident smile.
"I need additional income." Leonard spoke softly, seated at his desk.
The Caltech offer was secured, but he knew relying solely on an academic salary wouldn't be enough. With his eidetic memory and creative ability, he had a unique advantage: he could write novels that didn't yet exist in his time, but which he knew would become future successes.
"I'll create novels… but not just any. They'll be the ones that triumph in the future."
Leonard mentally reviewed the titles he remembered from the cultural canon of 2025. Works that had set trends, becoming international bestsellers. In his era—the early 2000s—they didn't yet exist. That gave him a unique opportunity: to get ahead and be the first to publish them.
"First novel… The Hunger Games." Leonard smiled. "Suzanne Collins will publish it in 2008, but I can write it now. A young adult dystopia with a strong message. Publishers will devour it."
"Second novel… The Fault in Our Stars." His gaze hardened. "John Green will release it in 2012, but I can recreate it earlier. A love story and tragedy that will move millions."
"Third novel… Gone Girl." Leonard leaned back in his chair. "Gillian Flynn will publish it in 2012, but I can get ahead. A psychological thriller with unexpected twists. Perfect to attract publishers and adult readers."
The mirror before him reflected a different Leonard: not only the scientist, but also the creator. With his deep empathy, he could build realistic characters capable of conveying authentic emotions. With his mental clarity, he could structure complex plots without losing coherence.
"This isn't just a hobby… it's a business."
Leonard opened his wallet and checked the money he had. He could invest in digital self-publishing, but the smartest move would be to present manuscripts to traditional publishers. With stories so powerful and original for his time, he knew they would accept them immediately.
"If I publish these three… I'll have steady income and reputation."
The pages began to fill with words. Each line was precise, each dialogue natural, each description vivid. Leonard wasn't just creating novels—he was building a new financial path.
"I'm a scientist… but I'll also be a successful writer."
"Good morning, I have an appointment with Mr. Martínez." Leo spoke firmly as he arrived at the publishing house reception.
The receptionist looked at him curiously. The impeccable black suit, the confident bearing, and the clear gaze made him stand out among the other visitors. She checked the schedule and nodded. "Yes, they're expecting you on the third floor. You may go up."
"Thank you." Leo smiled, adjusting his tie before heading to the elevator.
The ride was brief, but in his mind he reviewed every detail. In his hands were manuscripts of three novels that, in his time, didn't yet exist. Works that in the future would be international bestsellers. His plan was simple: get ahead and become a recognized author, securing solid income alongside his scientific career.
"Today I'm not Leonard Hofstadter… I'm Leo, the writer."
Upon reaching the third floor, an assistant led him into a spacious office, its walls lined with books and diplomas. Behind a dark wooden desk, a middle-aged man awaited him.
"Mr. Hofstadter, welcome," said the executive, rising to shake his hand.
"Please, call me Leo," he replied with a confident smile.
The executive raised an eyebrow, surprised by the young man's firmness. "Leo, then. Have a seat."
"Thank you." Leo settled into the chair across from the desk, carefully placing the manuscripts on the table.
"So you want to publish novels." The executive looked at him with interest. "It's not common for a physics graduate to walk in with literature under his arm."
"I know." Leo nodded. "But I have stories I believe can make a difference. And I want to show them to you."
The executive picked up the first manuscript. "Title?"
"The Hunger Games." Leo answered calmly.
The man frowned. "Interesting. What's it about?"
"A young adult dystopia," Leo began to explain. "A future where a totalitarian government organizes deadly competitions among youth to maintain control. It's social critique disguised as entertainment, with strong characters and a powerful message."
The executive skimmed the first pages. His expression shifted from curiosity to concentration.
"This… has potential," he murmured. "The pace is sharp, the characters clear, and the premise provocative."
"It's just the beginning." Leo smiled. "I have more."
The executive looked up. "More?"
"Yes. The Fault in Our Stars." Leo placed the second manuscript on the table.
"And this one?"
"A contemporary drama," Leo explained. "Two teenagers with terminal illnesses who find love and meaning amid tragedy. It's a story about life, death, and the beauty of small moments."
The executive opened the manuscript and read a paragraph. His face softened.
"This… is moving," he said quietly. "It has an authentic, honest tone. It could connect with a wide audience."
"Exactly." Leo affirmed. "It's not just entertainment—it's an emotional experience."
The executive set the manuscript down and looked at the third. "And this one?"
"Gone Girl," Leo replied. "A psychological thriller. A woman disappears, and her husband becomes the prime suspect. The story plays with perceptions, unexpected twists, and media manipulation."
The executive opened the manuscript and read the first pages. His expression hardened, intrigued.
"This… is dark, but fascinating."
"It's a mirror of society," Leo explained. "How the media builds narratives, how relationships can hide secrets, and how truth can be more dangerous than lies."
Silence filled the office. The executive set the three manuscripts on the table and leaned back in his chair.
"Leo… this is impressive."
"Thank you." Leo replied calmly, though his heart was pounding.
"I don't usually say this in a first meeting, but your novels are at a level I rarely see in new authors." The executive looked at him intently. "How did you do it?"
"Let's just say… I have a clear vision of what I want to tell." Leo smiled, careful not to reveal too much.
The executive nodded slowly. "We could work with this. But publishing three novels at once is risky. Which one do you want to launch first?"
"The Hunger Games." Leo answered without hesitation. "It's the most commercial, the one that can attract a wide audience and open doors for the others."
"I agree." The executive took notes. "We could position it as a saga, with potential sequels."
"Exactly what I had in mind." Leo affirmed.
The man studied him carefully. "Leo, you don't seem like an insecure writer. You speak with confidence, you know what you want. That's rare in someone so young."
"Because I know these stories can change lives." Leo replied firmly.
The executive smiled. "I like your attitude. Let me speak with the editorial committee. If all goes well, we could sign a contract in the coming weeks."
"Perfect." Leo stood, shaking the man's hand. "Thank you for your time."
"Thank you, Leo. I believe you have a bright future."
Leo left the office with a smile. He had taken the first step. His novels were in the publisher's hands, and the reaction had been positive.
"I did it," he murmured as he walked down the hallway.
The elevator carried him back to the lobby. The receptionist looked at him curiously. "How did it go?"
"Very well." Leo replied with a confident smile.
Stepping out into the street, the fresh air surrounded him. The world seemed different. He was no longer just a newly graduated scientist. Now he was a writer with a promising future.
-----
"Mr. Hofstadter, welcome back," said the publishing executive, shaking Leo's hand.
"Please, call me Leo," he replied with a confident smile, accompanied by his lawyer.
The office was prepared for the meeting. On the table lay several folders with documents, contract drafts, and an elegant pen. The atmosphere was solemn, charged with expectation.
"Today we're going to close the deal," the executive added, settling into his chair. "The publishing house is excited about your manuscripts."
"I know." Leo nodded. "And that's why I want everything to be clear."
His lawyer, a man with a sharp gaze and firm voice, opened the folder and began reviewing the clauses. "The contract establishes an initial advance of twenty thousand dollars and standard royalties of ten percent on sales."
"Ten percent…" Leo repeated quietly, looking at the executive.
"It's the usual for new authors," the man explained. "A generous advance and standard royalties. It's a good deal."
"Not for me." Leo interrupted calmly. "I don't want immediate money. I want higher royalties."
The executive raised an eyebrow. "Higher? How much are we talking about?"
"I want twenty percent." Leo answered without hesitation.
Silence filled the room. The lawyer looked at him in surprise, though he knew his client had a plan. The executive leaned back in his chair, evaluating the request.
"Leo… that's double what we offer any new author. It's risky."
"Risky for you, but fair for me." Leo stared at him. "I know the impact my novels will have. They're not ordinary stories. They're works that will define a generation."
The executive frowned. "Every author thinks their work is special."
"I don't think it." Leo smiled calmly. "I know it."
His lawyer intervened. "My client is willing to give up part of the initial advance if royalties are adjusted. He prefers long-term income."
The executive looked at him incredulously. "Give up the advance?"
"Exactly." Leo nodded. "I don't need quick money. I need a contract that reflects the real value of my books."
Silence returned to the room. The executive flipped through the contract, thoughtful.
"Leo… you speak with uncommon certainty."
"Because I have clarity." Leo replied. "I know how the public will react. I know these stories will sell millions of copies. And I want my agreement to reflect that."
The lawyer reinforced the idea. "My client isn't asking for a favor. He's offering an opportunity. If his books perform as he claims, the publishing house will earn more than with any other new author."
The executive sighed. "Twenty percent is too much. I could consider fifteen."
"Fifteen isn't enough." Leo looked at him firmly. "I want twenty. And I'm willing to prove it."
The man studied him in silence. There was something in Leo's gaze that unsettled him. It wasn't arrogance—it was certainty. A confidence he rarely saw in young authors.
"Why are you so sure?" he finally asked.
"Because I have the ability to understand what people need to read." Leo replied. "My stories aren't just entertainment. They're mirrors of society, emotions that connect, twists that captivate. I'm not improvising. I'm ahead of my time."
The executive leaned back, thoughtful. The lawyer seized the moment. "We can close today if royalties are adjusted. My client is ready to sign."
The silence stretched. Finally, the executive picked up the contract and began writing modifications.
"Twenty percent on physical and digital sales," he murmured as he wrote. "But the advance is reduced to ten thousand."
"Perfect." Leo smiled. "That's what I want."
The lawyer reviewed the new clauses and nodded. "It's in order."
The executive extended the contract. "Leo, I hope you're as sure as you seem. Because if this works… it will be historic."
"It will." Leo took the pen and signed calmly.
The lawyer signed as witness. The executive stamped the publishing seal. The contract was closed.
"Welcome officially to our publishing house," the man said, shaking Leo's hand.
"Thank you." Leo replied firmly. "I won't let you down."
As they left the office, the lawyer looked at him with a smile. "Not every author manages to bend the rules in their first meeting. What you did was impressive."
"It wasn't luck." Leo replied. "It was vision."
The fresh air of the street surrounded him. With the contract in hand, he knew he had secured not only an economic future, but also a place in literary history.