Jurassic World: I Am Simon Masrani

5:37 a.m. – Construction Yard, Near Gallimimus

Carlos De Luca's day began, as most of his bad decisions did, with half a lukewarm coffee and Denny screaming over engine noise with a protein bar lodged in his cheek like a hamster.

"Denny, tell me you didn't let them pour the west ridge slab with the thermal grout still in it," Carlos said, squinting into the rising sun like it personally offended him.

Denny flinched, tablet in one hand, energy bar in the other. "They told me it was already mixed when I got here!"

Carlos blinked, slowly. The kind of blink that suggested a man holding back an aneurysm with sheer willpower.

"Denny," he said carefully, "if that slab cures with the thermal mix still in, and I have to explain to Simon Masrani why his dino-view penthouse is shaped like a melted clock in a Salvador Dali painting…I swear Ill-"

"I'll fix it!" Denny said, dropping his protein bar.

"You will," Carlos nodded grimly, sipping his coffee like it owed him child support. "Because you're young, full of hope and haven't yet stood in a courtroom with a man in horn-rimmed glasses suing your a**."

Denny opened his mouth, then closed it.

A concrete mixer backfired in the background.

Carlos stared at it, then muttered, "God help me, these idiots are going to kill me before the dinosaurs do."

7:26 a.m. – Plaza Site, Retail Strip Foundations

Marisol Viteri crouched in the middle of a half-dug planter box, soil up to his forearms and murder in his eyes.

Carlos approached cautiously, holding a breakfast sandwich like it was a peace offering.

"No," Marisol said without looking up.

"I didn't say anything." Carlos replied.

"You were about to offer me something with meat, gluten, and a bribe in it." Marisol said

He squinted. "It's just eggs and potato."

Mariso scooped up a fistful of dark, crumbly soil and held it up like evidence in a crime drama. "Oh god!! its Imported mulch again, the thing's too damn acidic.

These palms are going to stress out, drop their leaves, and will ultimately collapse into the churro stand. Congratulations, Carlos. You're going to be killed by a snack kiosk sooner or later."

He glanced over his shoulder at the curved shop structure labeled ROAR BITES in temporary spray paint.

"We could call it an immersive experience."

Marisol glared at him.

Carlos held out the sandwich. "It's not even warm anymore."

he took it. "Fine. But I'm adding volcanic rock to the beds, and if I find one more plastic drainage tube under a palm tree, I'm zip-tying it to your truck."

Carlos finally smiled. "God, I missed you so much, when you were away working in the north fence zone."

9:12 a.m. – Inside the Hotel Framework, 2nd Floor Balcony

Denny clung to a steel beam like a baby koala, his legs shaking just slightly more than the scaffolding he was standing on.

Carlos called up from below. "You good up there?"

"Physically, yes but Emotionally? I'm very close to rethinking my life choices."

"You volunteered to map the balcony angles, Denny!" Carlos said.

"Yea but I didn't know it meant I had to parkour over steel death beams!"

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Just align the view towards the enclosure! Guests are paying to wake up to dinosaurs, not HVAC units!"

Denny muttered something about dying for capitalism and tapped at his tablet, tilting the holographic overlay a few degrees.

"There! Its now Centered on the pond. You'll get the view of Gallimimus herds in the morning and Paras by the water mid-afternoon."

Carlos grinned. "Boom and just like that we will have a Jurassic screensaver."

A gust of wind made the beam creak.

Denny clung a little tighter and asked nervously "Can I come down now?"

Carlos looked around. "...Ehhh, Give it a minute. You're finally getting some sunlight."

2:40 p.m. – Viewing Platform, Overlooking Mixed Enclosure

The new platform gleamed under the sun, sleek, elevated, curved glass all around.

Workers were still fitting the last panels while Carlos leaned on the railing, watching the herds below.

Gallimimus herd darted through tall grass in streaks of tan and gold.

Three Parasaurolophus stood near the pond, tails swishing, occasionally glancing at their excitable roommates like exhausted daycare workers.

"They're learning gradually," Marisol said beside him. "Herd behavior's shifting now. They're mimicking natural movement patterns more now, I guess they have calmed down"

Carlos nodded. "yea and none of them have been trampled each other, now that a win."

Denny joined them with two juice boxes and a half-broken tablet under his arm.

"I gave the park's visual pathing a refresh," he said, handing them each a drink like a proud kindergartener.

"Check this, new routes converging on the Innovation Center.

Plus, I am almost done with the mini-park near the guest entrance along with the Pond in the middle and when we add Curved paths that cross over each other to the mix we get, Symmetry p*rn, aaah what a treat."

Carlos sipped. "And what about Benches?"

"Yeah, I remembered those, built them between the tree clusters. Marisol made me space them wider this time so no one gets ambushed by a stegosaur while eating a pretzel."

"Damn Character growth?" Marisol snorted. "God, those are endangered around here."

5:25 p.m. – Under the Retail Strip Canopy

The sun dipped low behind the ridge, turning the sky the color of burnt mango.

Below the palms, three half-sane humans sat on a stack of lumber that had definitely failed a safety inspection.

Each one held a bottle of cold tea that was technically still within expiration, but spiritually long dead.

In front of them stood the still-wrapped statue of John Hammond, its tarp flapping gently in the breeze like it might get bored and leave.

Carlos took a long sip and sighed. "You know, when I was twelve, I wanted to be an astronaut."

Denny blinked. "Really?"

Carlos nodded. "Yeah. I wanted to float in space, no clients chasing deadlines, no zoning inspectors breathing down my neck, and definitely no tropical humidity trying to steam-cook my organs."

Marisol snorted. "And yet here you are. Building dino snack bars for rich tourists."

"I overshot the moon ok, and landed in hell," Carlos muttered.

They sat in silence for a beat, staring at the row of shops still missing their signs: one for drinks, one for food, and one destined to sell T. rex plushies at prices that would make Wall Street weep.

Denny glanced up at the tarped statue. "You ever think what Hammond would say if he saw this place?"

Carlos leaned back until the beam behind him creaked in protest. "Probably something visionary. Like, 'We've done it!' or 'This is a dream made real.'"

Marisol didn't look up. "And then immediately follow it with, 'How much for the combo meal?'"

Denny chuckled. "He seemed more like a mint julep guy to me though."

"He seemed like a 'pretend it's for the children but actually it's for my legacy' kinda guy," Marisol replied.

Carlos pointed his tea bottle like a conductor. "To Hammond, may he forever haunt our budget meetings."

Denny held up his own. "To small victories, like not getting our salaries docked today."

Marisol held his aloft with a grim face. "To tomorrow, which statistically has a higher chance of catastrophic failure."

They clinked bottles.

Then Carlos squinted at the shop row and frowned.

"You realize we accidentally built the drink shop facing the afternoon sun, right? That thing's gonna melt guests like popsicles."

Denny looked horrified. "Wait... what? No, the 3D layout - Oh god. I rotated the plaza 30 degrees last night. I thought it looked... artistic."

Carlos buried his face in both hands. "You tilted the retail sector for aesthetic symmetry?"

"I thought it gave it personality!"

Marisol, deadpan: "It's a heat trap now, Denny. You've created the world's first Jurassic air fryer."

Carlos threw his hands in the air, while almost passing out in the process. "Welcome to Jurassic Blister."

Denny groaned. "Okay, okay, I'll fix it—"

"No, don't fix it," Carlos interrupted. "We'll just sell sunscreen at the smoothie bar. Call it a 'refreshment package.' and Upcharge five bucks."

Marisol raised an eyebrow. "Now you're thinking like a capitalist."

Carlos smirked. "No. I'm thinking like someone who's doesnt wanna go broke, cause if we really try to fix that we will go broke for sure."

A gust of wind caught the edge of the Hammond tarp, flapping it just enough to show the tip of his walking cane.

Denny stared at it. "Is it weird I keep expecting that statue to talk?"

Marisol took a sip and shrugged. "If it starts offering me ice cream, I'm burning this place down."

Carlos stood up slowly, his joints making noises that sounded like creaky old drawbridges. "Alright. That's enough existential dread for one day."

Denny flopped backward onto the wood pile. "Can I sleep here?"

"No," they said in unison.

Carlos finished his tea and looked out toward the paddock where Parasaurolophus tails swayed gently in the distance, half-lit by sunset.

"You know," he said, "for all the chaos and concrete and accidental solar death traps... this place is starting to look like something."

Marisol looked around and nodded once. "yep a functional death trap."

Denny smiled. "A beautiful one, though."

Carlos raised his empty bottle one more time. "To the most dysfunctional dream ever attempted by unqualified people."

Marisol clinked it. "Cheers."

Denny missed the clink, dropped his bottle, and it rolled off the beam and cracked.

Everyone stared at it.

Carlos sighed. "That was metaphorical."