Kieran danced in the kitchen while singing along to the music coming from his living room. Between his two-step and the movement of his hips, he danced as if he were at one of the fetes he grew accustomed to while in college.
Calypso was a morning tradition, a custom he picked up from his parents. As a family, they listened to all of the famous Calypso artists. Whether it was Mighty Sparrow, Lord Kitchener, or Lord Blakie, Kieran had all of their records. His love for music undoubtedly developed from his childhood days.
The biggest difference between then and now was the amount of space he occupied. The kitchen had been remodeled just a week prior. Kieran loved the original space, but made a few changes. The countertops were updated from granite to marble, and he changed the floor from tiles to hardwood. His condo looked nothing like the home he was raised in.
Ever since he was old enough to drink at Villanova, Kieran and his friends were regulars at fetes. Every two years, he’d travel down to Trinidad & Tobago for Carnival. The world-renowned, high-energy festival represented freedom, music, and artistry. Celebrated as the "Greatest Show on Earth," it featured vibrant street parades (better known as Mas), soca and calypso music, steel-pan, and elaborate costumes.
How Kieran told it, feting was in his blood. His father was a soca artist. Although he wasn’t the most famous act coming out of Trinidad & Tobago, he did well enough to win Soca Monarch once. Another year, he and his steel band won the 2025 National Panorama competition during Carnival. Talk about versatility.
Kieran’s mother also fell in love with the popular festival. Although she was from Venezuela, she’d make her way to Trinidad & Tobago almost every year for Carnival to play mas. People from across the globe would come together, draped in the best masquerade outfits, hoping to win the prize of Best Masquerader.
If it weren’t for soca, Kieran’s parents would have never met. The same year Kieran’s father won his Panorama championship, Kieran’s mother was named best masquerader. They met during Carnival, married shortly afterward, and eventually moved to Philadelphia to lay down roots.
Four years later, Kieran was born. Philadelphia may have been his birthplace, but his parents made sure he never forgot his heritage. Kieran’s father made sure he had the basic skills to play his favorite calypso songs on the steel pan. Once in a while, Kieran would have friends over and put on mini jam sessions that felt more like concerts. He even learned how to play his favorite songs on the piano.
Almost in competition with his father, Kieran’s mother wanted her son to know just as much about his Venezuelan roots. Her tutelage, however, came in the kitchen. Kieran knew how to cook many of the Venezuelan dishes his mother grew up with. His father taught him how to make a few Trinidadian dishes too, making Kieran the go-to cook for all of the get-togethers. His Caribbean and Latino friends often said that he cooked better than their parents. A compliment he didn’t take lightly.
“Can you turn that music off? It’s so loud.”
Kieran walked over to the record player and turned the music down until the words disappeared but the rhythm remained.
“Ok, ok. Only because I know you really want to concentrate in there.”
Today, Kieran was teaching Lisa how to make arepas. She’d been learning his way for about three months at this point. He gave her the arepa duties for the upcoming retreat they had planned with their friends.
“The arepas are almost finished.”
Kieran walked into the kitchen with the demeanor of an executive chef, making sure his sous chef followed all the directions.
“Ok. What’s next?”
Lisa looked around the kitchen as she gathered her thoughts. Kieran picked up one of the arepas to inspect it.
“Aren’t you going to wait until they cool down?”
“Absolutely not. This is the best time to check how crisp they are.”
Kieran took a bite and nodded his head in approval.
“Babe, this is way better than how you made them two weeks ago. I say you’re ready for the retreat!”
He gave Lisa a five and a hug, then they danced to the faint music in the background.
“I knew the music would come in handy,” Kieran said as he began to massage Lisa’s lower back.
“Alright, alright, you know we’re not finished here, Mr. Arepa King.”
After a couple of kisses, they started getting the ingredients together for the filling. Kieran started a pot of coffee while Lisa finished with the arepas.
Finding somebody to cook arepas well in Philadelphia wasn’t an easy task. This was why Kieran took pride in his arepa skills. He even toyed with the idea of opening up his own arepa bar and serving Trinidadian rum to blend with the flavors on the proposed menu.
After setting the table, Kieran turned off the music and turned on the news. He rarely started his day without it.
A spotlight on Mayor Marty Lyons was already underway.
Lisa looked up from the table when Mayor Marty Lyons appeared on the screen. She knew the man on television better than most. She had worked alongside Lyons since his days in the District Attorney’s office and followed him to City Hall, eventually becoming one of his most trusted advisors.
Lyons was from West Philadelphia. He grew up in the projects and was in and out of gang life before he turned his life around and joined the police force.
His first term had been full of controversy, though you wouldn’t know it from the segment. The network tended to lean left in its reporting, so Kieran wasn’t surprised by the favorable treatment of a Democratic mayor.
They talked about all of his highlights. Crime rates declined to historic lows under his term. He also played a large role in addressing Philadelphia’s housing crisis. His administration created or approved over 400,000 housing units. That represented forty percent of the administration’s overall goal.
The spot did mention some of his lowlights, but barely. He drew a lot of criticism for appearing at almost every well-publicized party in the city. Over time, more organizations invited him to their parties, and even used pictures of him to promote them.
The spot served as an endorsement of sorts, which mattered with Election Day only a month away. A newcomer was threatening Lyons’ second term.
Javier Montoya leaned even more left with his politics than Lyons did. The media began referring to Montoya as a democratic socialist, a label that made him seem radical to some voters but endeared him to a younger crowd.
Montoya campaigned on affordability for working-class Philadelphians, proposing universal free childcare, free city bus service, and a rent freeze for stabilized apartments. He planned to fund the initiatives by taxing wealthy residents and corporations while increasing affordable housing and raising the minimum wage to $25.
Whatever Lyons had accomplished during his first term, the voters appeared ready for something different. Montoya held a shocking ten-point lead with only a month until Election Day.
The coffee machine sounded off as Kieran walked to the kitchen. He took the pot out and poured two tall cups.
The anchor switched gears from the mayoral race.
“…Fronteer co-founder Kieran—”
Kieran caught that much before he placed the pot back into the machine, picked up both cups, and walked toward the sound.
His face was on the screen.
Again.
Beside it were the faces of several executives he recognized, all arranged beneath the same headline:
TWO MILLION USERS EXPOSED: WHO’S TO BLAME?
Kieran handed Lisa her coffee and sat beside her.
He was getting used to seeing himself on television.
Usually, that had been a good thing.
The majority of Kieran’s financial success came from the rise of Fronteer. He became the first millionaire in his family and made Forbes’ 30 Under 30 list. According to Fronteer’s latest earnings report, Kieran owned forty percent of the company.
He made good use of his money, purchasing lavish cars and clothes and frequently buying cases of Dúria cigars. Whenever he had an opportunity to support a minority-owned business, he jumped at it.
For years, Fronteer had made his face synonymous with success.
Lately, it had made him synonymous with something else.
Just weeks earlier, Fronteer became one of three major technology companies caught in a massive data breach that compromised the personal information of more than two million users.
The story had dominated the news ever since.
Kieran watched as the anchor spoke over images of the three company logos.
“Questions continue to mount this morning over whether the attacks were connected and how three companies trusted with the personal information of millions of users were compromised within such a short period of time.”
The screen changed.
Kieran’s face appeared again.
“Cybersecurity experts have criticized leadership at all three companies, with some questioning whether rapid expansion came at the expense of adequate security. Critics say responsibility ultimately falls on the executives at the top.”
Kieran took a sip of his coffee.
That was the part they liked most.
The people at the top.
For days, news stations had shown photographs of Kieran and the other executives while commentators accused them of prioritizing growth over security and failing to build the infrastructure necessary to protect the people who trusted them with their information.
Fronteer had released a statement promising a full investigation and brought in outside cybersecurity experts to determine how its systems had been compromised. The other companies announced investigations of their own.
None of it quieted the criticism.
For the first time since starting Fronteer, Kieran found himself answering questions that had nothing to do with growth, innovation, or what the company planned to build next.
People wanted to know who had accessed their data.
What had been taken.
Why three companies had been targeted.
And whether any of it was connected.
Kieran wanted those answers too.
So far, he didn’t have them.
“Honey, they’re not making it sound good.”
Kieran kept his eyes on the television and took another sip.
He didn’t even flinch.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
“You always say that, but they’re directly blaming you.”
“It’s okay. The retreat is coming up. We’ll all get some time to ourselves. Take a break from all of this.”
Lisa looked back at the television.
Kieran didn’t.
He’d seen enough.
Lisa’s phone vibrated.
She pulled it out to see a text from an unsaved number.
The text was short and direct,
“Is he cooperative?
- F”
Kieran noticed a puzzled look on Lisa’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Noting, it’s just spam.”
Lisa responded to the text,
“I need more time.”
