It had been decades, DECADES since Jon held the stone in his hand. His teenage self that had felt so wise for waiting to use the stone now seemed like a fucking idiot given the number of times in his life he would have killed for a little magic on his side. Nothing had worked out the way he'd wanted to, not his relationships, not his time in college, not his career. He was 40 and working a relatively junior job no matter how he dressed it up, answering to people ten years younger who'd had the lucky breaks he'd missed. He'd tanked things with Hailie, crashed and burned with Kelly and then limped along with Morgan for half a decade for nothing to show for it. He wasn't a lawyer, he wasn't anything, all because he'd locked away the one bit of a good luck to ever fall into his hands.
Perhaps it was because of all that flashing through his mind that Jon did the exact thing he'd been afraid of all those years ago. He blurted out the first wish to pop into his head. "I wish I was the boss!" It was simple, maybe even petty, but in that moment the lackluster reception to the cheap gift cards he'd gotten his nieces for Christmas rattling around in his head, he just knew he didn't want to be just an assistant any longer. He had all of one second to realize he'd made a dumb, impulsive, open ended wish the instant he'd put his hands back on the stone before the rock flashed white and he blacked out.
