Chapter 19: The Wall Comes Down
Saturday morning, seven AM, the gang shows up dressed like they're about to film a home improvement show. Leonard's wearing actual work gloves. Howard's got a tool belt that looks borrowed from his dad. Raj brought his own safety goggles.
Sheldon's carrying a three-ring binder.
"I've prepared comprehensive demolition protocols," he announces, setting the binder on the register counter with a heavy thunk. "Section one covers structural assessment. Section two details tool usage and safety procedures. Section three—"
"We're knocking down a wall, not launching a space shuttle."
"Improper wall removal can compromise structural integrity, leading to ceiling collapse, floor warping, or catastrophic building failure."
"The landlord said it's not load-bearing."
"Landlords frequently lack engineering credentials. I've reviewed the building plans—available through public records—and confirmed the wall is indeed non-load-bearing. However, proper technique remains essential."
Melissa arrives with coffee and donuts, her camera already out.
"I'm documenting this for posterity," she says, grinning. "The day Stuart's friends almost killed themselves with power tools."
"We're not going to—"
"You're absolutely going to," she interrupts. "I'm prepared for injuries. Minor ones."
She's not wrong.
The first casualty happens within ten minutes.
Howard picks up the hammer, examines the wall like he's selecting a surgical site, winds up with way too much force—
THWACK.
"FUCK!" He drops the hammer, clutching his thumb. "It's defective!"
"The hammer is literally just weight and handle," Leonard says, exactly like he did months ago during furniture assembly. "It can't be defective."
"The weight distribution is uneven!"
"Howard, you hit your own thumb."
"Because the hammer's center of gravity—"
"You missed the wall," Raj points out helpfully. "The wall was six inches to the left of your thumb."
Melissa's camera clicks. Howard glares at her.
"This is going in your wedding photo slideshow."
"We're not even engaged!"
"Yet. This is leverage for future arguments."
Once Howard's thumb is bandaged—Sheldon produced a first aid kit from his binder, because of course he did—we actually start making progress.
Turns out Leonard knows what he's doing. He maps out where to start, how to remove drywall without damaging surrounding structure, where the studs are. Sheldon directs operations from his binder, calling out measurements and angles. Raj handles cleanup, carefully moving debris.
I do the actual heavy work—sledgehammer, crowbar, pulling down sections of wall. The physical labor feels good. Real. Like I'm building something with my hands instead of just playing with supernatural advantages.
Howard, banned from all tools after the thumb incident, manages music and food orders.
"This is important!" he insists when Raj questions his contribution. "Team morale depends on proper soundtrack selection and timely pizza delivery."
By noon, we've broken through. One solid hit with the sledgehammer, and suddenly I can see into the other space. The wall crumbles, and there it is—my expanded empire.
Everyone cheers.
Melissa captures the moment—me standing there covered in drywall dust, sledgehammer in hand, grinning like an idiot while my friends crowd around the opening.
"Speech!" Howard demands.
"There's no—"
"SPEECH!"
"Fine. Uh. Thanks for helping. I couldn't do this without you guys. Literally couldn't, because apparently I need adult supervision with power tools."
"Accurate assessment," Sheldon confirms.
"And I'm grateful. Really grateful. For the help, for showing up, for—" My throat gets tight unexpectedly. "—for being here."
The sentiment hangs in the dusty air. Then Raj rushes forward and hugs me, getting drywall dust all over both of us.
"Spirit brothers help spirit brothers demolish walls!"
Leonard and Howard join the hug pile. Sheldon stands at the edge, looking uncomfortable but pleased. Melissa snaps photos of the whole ridiculous scene.
By six PM, the wall's down. Not cleanly—there's debris everywhere, exposed studs, rough edges that'll need finishing work. But the space is open. Continuous. My tiny 800 square foot shop is now 1,500 square feet of possibility.
I stand in the center, turning slowly. Over there—gaming tables. Against that wall—proper event space with seating. The back area—workshop for tournaments. And everywhere, more shelves. More inventory. More room for the community I'm building.
The tingle hits. Strong and affirming. Images flash through my mind: This shop packed with people. Tournaments running multiple games simultaneously. Industry events. Creator signings. The shop becoming legendary in LA's geek community. A destination, not just a store.
This is the right move. This is the beginning of something bigger.
"You okay?" Melissa's hand on my arm.
"Yeah. Just—looking at it. Really seeing it."
"It's going to be amazing."
She kisses me, quick and dusty and perfect. Over her shoulder, I catch the gang watching with various levels of amusement and approval.
"We should celebrate," Leonard suggests. "Pizza? Beer?"
"In the expanded space," Howard adds. "Christen it properly."
We order four large pizzas—way more than needed, but Howard insists on leftovers. Someone produces beer from somewhere. We sit on the floor in the construction zone, eating pizza and drinking cheap beer and laughing about Howard's thumb incident.
Sheldon's already sketching layout plans on receipt paper.
"Optimal traffic flow requires careful shelf placement. I recommend—"
"Later," Leonard interrupts. "Right now we're just celebrating."
"Celebration is an inefficient use of—"
"Sheldon. Drink your beer. Eat your pizza. Celebrate with your friends."
Sheldon considers this. Then picks up his beer, raises it slightly.
"To Stuart's expansion. And to friendship, I suppose."
We all raise our drinks.
"To friendship," we echo.
Melissa leans against me, warm and solid and real. My friends sprawl around the demolished wall, exhausted and happy. My shop—my massively expanded shop—surrounds us like a promise.
Four months ago I opened terrified and alone.
Now I'm here, surrounded by people who showed up at 7 AM on a Saturday to demolish a wall because I asked.
The powers gave me opportunities. But these relationships? This moment?
I built this myself.
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