Sneak Peak

I finally found out why I didn’t get my Hogwarts letter when I was 11. Little did I know it would come two decades later, not delivered by an owl, but by a Facebook messenger ping.

In my imagination, a heavy, majestic door opens to reveal a hall so vast the ceiling ebbs onto the heavens. It was lit by thousands of candles afloat in midair. But instead of golden plates and goblets, laptops, monitors and CPUs were laid on the table.

The Gateway

Imagine the waiting area of a doctor’s office, the lobby of a hotel, the foyer of a mansion. In the House of ZFT, the Gateway is where incoming students are welcomed, screened, assessed and sized. This is done two weeks before the formal classes. This is also where everybody gets to meet everybody without the pretense of troll accounts. “Trust is important to us,” one of the mentors said, “that’s why we use our real accounts even here in the Gateway.” In a world where dishonesty and fraud are so ubiquitous nobody bats an eye anymore, trust is as precious as it is priceless. Even more so when you’re a part of an exclusive group who understand the market with such depth that the unbelievers get so consumed in bringing you down. Trust is essential.

Which one are you?

The Gateway proved to be the perfect place to get a glimpse of everyone’s persona. There are the newbies, the veterans, the diligent students and those who would rather listen than talk. But everybody’s excitement was so palpable I could almost feel it radiating off my phone’s screen. House rules were laid. We were tasked to elect a scribe (a secretary) and to choose our batch name. Electing a scribe was easy, selecting a batch name on the other hand caused a bit of a struggle. In the end, we all decided that what would matter most is our honor and loyalty to the tribe and the system—just like what a samurai is to his daimyo. This is why I voted for Bushido.

First Day High

It was a Monday. For the readers who are not familiar with how the ZFT course is conducted, classes are held on M-W-F at 8-11 PM via your trusty messenger, Skype. Three hours of divine stock market lectures, three times a week for three months. They couldn’t have used the rule of three more efficiently if they tried. 

The master of the house knows how to start things off. He did so by introducing himself, not as Zee, but as the person behind the mask. “Subasta students you have this right,” he said. There it is again, the building of trust within the little band of faceless men. It was a day of introductions. Everyone got to say a little something about themselves, but the spotlight never strayed away from Zee and Kidlat. They know how to have fun yet they both were stickler for rules. Which was not surprising because they wouldn't have made it this far if they lacked discipline. All the students were on their toes trying to get a hold of these fictional characters that are now suddenly so real. If I had to guess, my batchmates and I are all on the same boat. These were people we just used to admire from afar, and now they’re taking us under their wings. That, my friends, is quite surreal. 

The Reveal

In other news, I heard it through the grapevine that my fellow samurais are currently on a witch hunt. They want to know who I am. It seems as if they suddenly found themselves with plenty of time in their hands due to the month-long trading ban presently being imposed. So instead of hunting for stocks, they hunt for the real Nina. It was quite a spectacle really and I was tempted to take part just to see how people would react once fingers are pointed at them. Well, I couldn’t resist. I did point fingers here and there... Or did I? Maybe I would have, if I wasn’t too busy working my ass off at my day job… Or was I? But here’s a little tip my dear friends, you can take all your Sherlock glasses off because you don’t need to look far to know exactly who I am. I lost, I gained. Still, I am in an endless pursuit for knowledge, for success, for happiness. I understand that these things could manifest in different ways. It could be playtime with the kids, a spouse waiting for me when I get home, laughter with friends over dinner, a roof over my head, a food on the table, a green port, a nice car, a master’s degree, a dream vacation, an eight-hour sleep, an ice-cold glass of water or maybe just simple pat on the back. Success is subjective. Happiness is what you make it. If you truly want to know who I am, don't look too far. Take a look in the mirror and you’ll find out.  

"We're all mad here."

P.S.

Vote wisely.