[Hyde POV]
Brooke still broke up with her boyfriend and got drunk. But that was it. The evening went by
completely differently.
The two councilmen who threatened me, the oily one and the gray one, both had disappeared. Like
poof… erased from existence.
Jackie's dad was there, but he was alone this time. Still corrupt, but integral to the plot, so he
stayed.
I brought Brooke back to the autoshop and let Megan take care of her.
"Boss, are you alright? You look pale," Tyrell said when he saw my face.
"Did the food not sit well with your stomach? You should go home and rest. We got it here," Megan said with concern.
"Alright then." I went back home in the Volvo instead of changing back to my Nova.
As I walked in through the kitchen door, Mrs. Forman and Eric greeted me.
"Hey, Hyde."
"Steven, you're home early," Mrs. Forman giggled.
"You're back from the dentist?" I asked casually.
"Yeah, perfect teeth like usual," Eric said with a slight chuckle. "Are you fine? You look pale."
"Huh—yeah—"
My eyes suddenly went black and I fell forward into Eric. I didn't remember much of what happened next, but I woke up in the hospital.
…
The hospital. Wearing a patient's gown and an IV drip connected to my vein, I opened my eyes slowly and saw Mrs. Forman, Red, and Eric standing there worriedly.
"Steven! Honey, you're up!" Mrs. Forman laughed nervously, hugging me slightly and kissing me on the forehead.
"What happened?" I asked in a tired voice.
"Food poisoning," Eric replied teasingly, with a smile of relief on his face.
Red grumbled, "If you feel sick, you should've gone straight to the hospital. Why did you wait
around so long until you passed out—"
"Oh, Red. He just woke up. Yell at him later. Be concerned now." Mrs. Forman grabbed Red's hand and comforted him.
The doctor suddenly walked into the room, carrying my medical report with him. "Good news, Mr.
Hyde. It's not food poisoning."
"No?" Mrs. Forman looked confused. "So, why did he fall down, Doctor?"
"Immense stress," the doctor said seriously. "His heartbeat was so fast, we had to give him enough
sedatives yesterday to calm him down. Enough to drop a horse."
"Wait. Yesterday? How long was I out?" I asked, shocked. "Around fifty hours," the doctor said
casually.
"Oh damn it. The café opening—" I tried to stand up, but Red pushed me back down. The heart monitor immediately began beeping rapidly.
It was already six o'clock on Sunday. I'd missed two whole days—two very important days.
"No, you're not going anywhere. Be still and let the doctor examine you," Red said firmly.
"Steven, honey. The café was a huge success. People have been lining up all day to go in," Mrs.
Forman said carefully.
She added with a soft voice, "It's a huge success. You can relax now."
"Oh." I exclaimed flatly. The monitor calmed down, and the doctor nodded.
"Hmm. He's returned to baseline. I think he can be discharged today."
"Are you sure?" Red said darkly. "Tie him down to the bed for a week. Sedate him more. Make sure
this doesn't happen again."
I shrugged. "I don't mind missing school for another week."
"Can it," Red scolded me.
"Hyde," Eric called, slowly squinting at me, "Did you always have that white lock in your hair?"
"What?"
He showed me a mirror. One of the curls on my head had turned white. It used to be light brown, but this one had gone completely white.
"Sometimes immense stress can affect pigment cells," the doctor said casually. "It doesn't usually
reverse. Just be sure to relax more from now on. I'll prescribe you Valium and some gastric pills."
The doctor left in a hurry. Everyone stared at me in silence for a bit.
I shrugged and said, "Well, that happened."
…
I wondered why the system did it when the others gave me some space.
It answered immediately.
[You violated established constraints.]
[Primary violations:]
• Interfering with the Forman household's daily continuity.
• Attempting permanent relocation outside Point Place prior to 1980.
• Actions likely to fracture core friendships beyond episodic recovery.
I stared at the text, then exhaled slowly.
"So that's what this was about," I muttered. "What about the white locks?"
[No side effects from the plot rewind. It happened because of the user's stress level.]
"What am I stressed about? I feel fine with the whole rewind thing."
[User's treatment of Jackie Burkhart, the innocent victim.]
I paused for a few seconds. Jackie's face when she realized what I had done haunted me a little
bit. It didn't mean I was going to start being nice to her, since that part technically didn't
exist.
I hesitated, then asked, "Are there more of these constraints I should know about? For future
reference."
The response came instantly.
[Additional operating rules detected:]
• The user's character must remain within sitcom behavioral bounds.
• Major crimes may occur off-screen, but must not result in public exposure or influencing the
plot.
• No abrupt personality shifts inconsistent with established characterization.
• Escalation beyond genre tolerance is prohibited ("jumping the shark").
• Daydreams and fantasy sequences must be clearly framed as such. The user has flexible planning for his own daydream sequence.
• Characters who exit the narrative do not return without special circumstances.
• Episodic closure is mandatory. Unresolved drama must end before the episode is wrapped up.
• Future technology may not appear on-screen.]
I let out a quiet laugh. Understanding the system rules helped me a lot.
"So off-camera," I said softly, "I can do whatever I want."
…
After Mrs. Forman and Red left, Kelso, Fez, and Donna came to visit me in the ward.
"Man, did you check out the caboose on the nurses here?" Kelso leered at a nurse who came in to
give me my medicine.
"Kelso!" Donna snapped angrily.
Taken aback, Kelso stammered, "What? I don't even know what caboose is!"
Fez blinked. "Yeah. What is caboose?"
Eric laughed. "It means butt."
Donna turned to me. "Hyde, I heard you went out on a date with a beautiful girl before you passed
out."
"Huh? Where did you hear that?" I asked, confused.
"Everyone's talking about it," Donna laughed. "A few of the heads who left school early saw your
car. They saw you while they were checking it out."
I scoffed. "It wasn't a date. She's a friend of mine. She had some work trouble, so I helped."
Kelso's face turned pale. "Wait—so you didn't cheat on your girlfriend and you're not breaking up
with her?"
I frowned. "Of course not."
Fez suddenly exclaimed, his face turning nervous, "Oh no."
Eric noticed immediately. "What? What happened?"
"Um…" Fez glanced at Kelso, who was shaking his head violently and mouthing No over and over.
"SPILL IT OUT, FEZ!" Donna snapped.
Fez blurted it all out in one breath. "Hyde's girlfriend came to the basement, mad because he blew
her off. She thought he went on a date with another girl too. Kelso convinced her to kiss him to
get even."
"WHAT?!" Donna, Eric, and I shouted in unison. The heart monitor started beeping again.
Kelso immediately bolted.
Donna cracked her knuckles. "Don't worry, Hyde. Since you're stuck in bed, I'm going to help you
beat the shit out of him."
Fez jumped up. "I'll help!" "Me too!" Eric added quickly.
"Wait. Everyone. Stop." I said, making them freeze. When they turned back to me, I added calmly,
"Bring me his hair."
Donna smirked. "Alright. Done."
"NOOOOO!" Kelso screamed from somewhere behind the walls. Apparently he'd only hidden, not actually run away.
…
Even after I got home from the hospital, the others couldn't catch up to Kelso.
Barbara rushed after hearing the news, hurriedly entering the basement while I hung out with my
friends.
"Steven! I heard the true story. I'm really sorry!" She sobbed.
I looked at her with a numb expression and said, "It's fine. I accept your apology."
"You are?" Eric looked at me with disbelief.
Barbara stopped crying and looked at me with expectation, "Steven."
"We're over Barbara."
She was taken aback. Donna crossed her arms and tapped her left foot. She wanted to interject, but
held herself back.
"Steven! It's a mistake. It's a stupid, stupid mistake." She begged.
"It's not a mistake. It just shows me what type of person you are. When in doubt, find another
person. If you're hurt, hurt the other guy. I don't want to live with a person like that. I won't
be able to relax in the relationship."
Her chin quivered, and she turned around, humiliated.
After she left, Donna said, "You know, I know you're right. But at least be a bit nicer about it."
Eric stopped her, "Donna. He's already so stressed out. Just let it go. It's not like they are
really dating."
Jackie and Kelso suddenly came to the basement. Kelso hides behind Jackie's petite body, and lets
her do the talking.
"Okay. So, Micheal told me everything." Jackie said.
We were all shocked.
"He did?" Eric asked with disbelief.
"Yeah, about how Hyde's bitchy girlfriend used him to get back at Hyde, now you want to shave his
hair to get even. But, I'm not going to let you do that. Because, I love his hair."
I furrowed my eyebrows. Eric, Donna and Fez were really pissed off too.
"Kelso!" Eric called him angrily.
"What? That's the truth!" Kelso shouted.
"I'm going to kick your ass so hard." Donna stood up and confronted Kelso.
He used Jackie as a human shield and said, "Help me!"
"Donna. You are not going to hurt Micheal." Jackie said adamantly. "I'll lay down my life to
protect him."
I accidentally chortled. Donna, Kelso and Eric turned to me with confusion.
"Why are you laughing Hyde?" Eric asked.
"Oh no. Hyde has gone crazy." Fez exclaimed with a whisper.
"Nah, I'm not crazy. I just think it's funny." I stood up and faced Jackie and Kelso. "You want to
lay down your life to protect this guy. So be it."
Jackie exclaimed in relief, so did Kelso.
"But, from now on. Kelso is no longer my friend." I said decisively.
"What?" Eric was startled.
"You're cutting him off too?" Donna was in disbelief. "How many people are you going to cut from
your life?"
"As many as necessary." I replied to Donna.
"So, from now on. We're no longer friends. You're not
entitled to my protection anymore, and the Bro Code is no longer in ordinance. So tread lightly
Kelso. No… Micheal."
Everyone gasped in shock.
"You have never called me Micheal before." Kelso's face turned pale and hurt.
"I am now."
…
A few days passed by since the incident. I went to school as usual, slept in class, and went to
manage my businesses after class ended.
I hired two more people at the autoshop, one for painting the car, one for metal fabrication.
Both of them were guys, but they didn't have a strong personality.
Red told me to do that to lower my workload in the shop. It would also serve well when I wanted to branch out later on to another city.
The cafe was doing really well. The Daily Grind quickly became a hub for coffee lovers and people
wanting some morning caffeine.
We sold over 400 cups of coffee every morning from Monday to Friday. The teachers, the parents
sending their kids to school, and workers from nearby factories, all come to the drivethrough.
The pastries were all gone by the afternoon, so did the sandwiches. There was minimal food waste
there as a lot of teens and kids were hanging out there after school ended.
On the opening weekend, I cleared $1,100 dollars in pure profit after minusing all of the operating cost.
From Monday to Friday, I made over $1,200 dollars in profit. We already have regulars who came to the shop.
Profit meant the money coming to my pocket, but since I put in the cost of opening up the shop at
40,000 dollars, it would take some time before I actually got a 'profit'.
The print shop was also doing really well. I made $8,000 dollars this week.
The autoshop slowed down a bit, but we still made a lot of money selling the cars I bought. The
Volvo was sold for $4,000 dollars to a rich collector, the BMW 2002 was sold for $3800, the
Mercedes S-Class for $4400.
The two wrecked cars were sold for $2000 and $2400 respectively. I only have one car in the
inventory, so I needed to buy new ones soon.
Luckily, there was an auction every month. And if I went to another big city, I could hit up two
auction sites per month.
For now, I was stocking up on Mustangs. I wanted to find one model from each year to sell in the lot sales after the Mustang documentary came out.
I already have 6 of the cars. The 1965, 1966, 1968, 1972, 1973, and 1974 Mustangs. All stock
Mustangs, but I do have a couple fastbacks and Shelbys too in the inventory.
Now that I could trust my workers, I could use the time to find new cars.
I could finally return to my lazy life now. And two weeks passed by very quickly.
"What about the tv show?" Megan asked.
"I need to submit it in April. For now, we're just going to create the contents."
…
Mid-March still hadn't decided to let winter go.
Inside the carpentry workshop I'd rented near the autoshop, far enough to keep the dust away from the cars but close enough to walk between them, my breath fogged faintly in the cold morning air.
The place smelled like fresh-cut wood and machine oil, dry and sharp, the kind of scent that clung
to your clothes.
The table saw screamed briefly as I cut through a plank, then fell silent. I checked the
measurement, running my thumb along the pencil mark.
"Hello Steven."
I looked up and lifted my safety goggles.
Brooke stood a few steps away, her voice soft but clear in the open space.
She wore a conservative one-piece dress with a jacket pulled tight against the cold, her hair
neatly in place, like she'd stepped straight out of the library and into my mess of sawdust and tools.
I smiled. "You're here. Give me a second, I'll clean up and come to you."
I grabbed a leaf blower and blasted the wood chips and sawdust off my jacket and jeans, the debris skittering across the concrete floor. When I shut it off, the workshop went quiet again.
I walked back to her, patting down my jacket.
"Did you sneak away from the library?" I asked, teasing, and guided her toward a small circular
table with two chairs. I used it sometimes when I needed a break.
"No," she said with a small smile, shaking her head. "I'm not needed until noon, for the children's
reading hour. I'm free this morning."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of neatly wrapped sandwiches, then lifted a
cardboard carrier from The Daily Grind, two coffees nestled inside, steam curling faintly from the
lids.
"I thought you might forget to eat," she added. "I don't want you to pass out again."
I rolled my eyes. "I had food poisoning."
"Sure. Sure." She smiled, unconvinced, teasing.
Two days after I woke up in the hospital, Brooke had approached me to apologize for putting me
there.
Unfortunately for me, she did it in front of Red, who had no hesitation in exposing me by saying I
fainted from working too much.
"So," she said, glancing around the workshop, her eyes catching the planer, the table saw, the
stacks of wood. "This is the fourth business?"
"No," I said casually, taking a bite of the sandwich. "I'm borrowing this place from a client. I'm
building camper furniture."
It was the truth. I only started renting this place five days ago. The owner was an old man who
couldn't build furniture anymore.
"Camper?" Her eyes lit up slightly, then narrowed. "Oh. Vans. I hate those boogie vans. They're hot
and sweaty inside."
I laughed as I understood what she said.
The 70s van culture was still underground, and even though there were a lot of custom vans, there
wasn't really a safe camper type van like the ones in the future.
"Want to see what I've done so far?"
She paused for half a second, then smiled brightly. "Sure."
For a moment I forgot what I was doing.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Nothing," I said. "The world just stopped for a second when you smiled."
Her face flushed immediately. She slapped my arm lightly. "Don't do that. It's still early in the
morning."
"So… it's okay to do it at night?" I teased. "St– stop it." She giggled,
unable to hide her smile.
After the coma, I'd told her it was an incredible coincidence that we both broke up with our
partners on the same day. Like fate was nudging us in the same direction.
She rejected the idea at first. The next day, she admitted I might be right.
We started dating, slowly.
Two weeks in, we hadn't crossed any lines. We talked. About books. About a lot of stuff.
We kissed several times, but that was it.
I led her outside, the cold biting a little sharper now. The van sat a short distance away, parked
near the edge of the lot.
From the outside it still looked plain. No murals, no wild paint. Just a raised-roof 1974 Econoline
I bought for 1200 dollars.
The owner was mauled by a bear in a forest, and sold the van for cheap since he needed to pay for
the hospital bill.
I opened the side door. The first thing she noticed was the floor.
No shaggy carpet. Clean vinyl over a solid base plywood, insulated with foam board underneath. Her shoes made a soft sound when she stepped inside.
The walls were bare metal and panels, unfinished but insulated. I even put sound deadening in it.
A roof vent sat perfectly centered above, and another ventilation fan near the back. Light filtered
in through a newly cut skylight, diffused and soft.
There was a compact enclosed space at the rear, framed but not furnished.
"That's the shower," I said. "Still working on it."
She looked around slowly, taking it in. "It doesn't feel gross," she said, surprised.
"It used to be really gross."
It was a shaggin wagon before. Once I ripped up the platform bed, there was a crusty bra and a
yellowing box of condoms down there. Thank god I didn't find a used one.
"I hope you won't turn this into a place for sex, like the rest of the van owners."
"It won't be. Well… It won't be just that." She rolled her eyes slightly.
I checked on the wire, "I hope I'll make it in time for Vanstock."
"Vanstock?" Brooke looked around excitedly. Then, she frowned and said, "You won't invite me to go with you to Vanstock, right? That place is dirty… and filled with degenerates."
I chuckled, "Like you."
She was taken aback, her brows moved as she thought about what I was referencing. Her face was
shocked and she said angrily, "Hey. You smoked too!"
A few days ago, I caught her lighting up a blunt in her car. I was supposed to come an hour later,
but caught her since I was early.
We openly smoked together afterward. She started smoking it during school, as it helped with
managing her stress– at least that's what she said.
She sat by my side as I was cutting the wood to make the bed-slash-seat. We talked for a long time until she needed to go to the library.
I went back to the Forman's house for lunch.
As I stopped by my room,Fez, Kelso, Jackie, Eric and Donna were hanging out in the basement.
"Hey Forman. Donna." I greeted casually.
Kelso and Jackie gasped, offended that I didn't greet them.
"ALLRIGHT! This has gone on long enough!" Kelso jumped over the couch and stopped me.
"We're settling this right now." He shouted passionately. I put my dukes up immediately.
He was stunned and immediately clarified, "NOT BY FIGHTING!"