Prologue
There are moments in life that won’t fit into your carefully planned expectations. They appear out of nowhere, and you have to deal with them — whether you like it or not. One of those moments just hit me. I had no choice but to accept everything it brought with it.
“I’ve called you here today to share some exciting news. There’s going to be a change in our magazine — a very thrilling one.”
I looked at Helen – the woman who had been my role model since I was sixteen. I devoured every article she wrote. She always knew how to grab a reader’s attention with her choice of words. She never shied away from speaking her mind, even if it wasn’t always positive.
Working for this company had cost me a lot. I gave up my freedom and worked hard on myself. Along the way, I found a part-time job in another firm, helping in the archives. Later, I was assigned to assist a colleague who wrote fashion articles. I learned a lot from her.
After I graduated, a position opened at the magazine, and I didn’t hesitate — I applied. I was lucky – my former boss gave me a glowing recommendation, which helped me land the job.
“According to our latest studies, most of our readers are women over 25. But we want to expand our target group to younger readers. Our goal is to attract a younger audience – and I already know how.”
She had a notebook in front of her and a pen in hand. A “must-have” for any meeting.
My job at Women’s Magazine is to write articles about fashion and designers. I write about the latest trends, accessories – basically everything fashion-related. I love it. It fulfills me, and I feel like I’ve found my purpose.
That’s why I wasn’t too interested in today’s announcement about changes in the editorial department – I love my work and have no desire to change it. Helen is always satisfied with my articles; I prepare everything thoroughly. So I was only half-listening.
“Today’s young girls follow all sorts of sports, but often just because of the young drivers. To be honest – they don’t really care about the sport itself, they’re drawn to the drivers.”
We all laughed — because it was true. Girls are interested in the looks, money, and fame of the athletes, not the sport itself.
“I did some research, and the most-watched sport is Formula 1. And we’re lucky – our country has not one, but three representatives: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, and George Russell. Your task will be to interview them, photograph them for the magazine, and write a breathtaking article.”
I started jotting down names of fashion designers I planned to write about in the coming weeks. First, though, I’d need to get the list approved by Helen. I’d do that right after the meeting so I could dive into work.
“Don’t all volunteer at once,” she joked with a smile. Her laughter made me look up. Everyone had their hands raised — except me. The interest in writing this article was huge. And no wonder — it was a unique opportunity. Different, special, a big step forward.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I’ve already chosen the lucky one,” she continued. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious who she picked. But I wasn’t as excited as my colleagues. I loved my job just the way it was.
“Mila, the articles will be yours.”
The world stopped. I looked at her in disbelief and swallowed hard.
“Excuse me?!”
“What?!” came a collective gasp from my colleagues. The room was filled with surprise.
“Mila, the work you’ve been doing is incredible. You’ve made huge progress over the past year. I know you love writing about fashion, but this is an opportunity that will take you to the next level. It’s outside your comfort zone – and that’s exactly why I believe you’re the right person. You’re the youngest on the team, and that’s why you can reach younger readers in a way no one else can. You can connect with them. And these articles will prove it.”
Her words made me happy. I knew she was trying to encourage me and acknowledge my work… but I still couldn’t fully accept it. These articles weren’t for me. It wasn’t my style.
“I really appreciate it, Helen, but I’m not the right person. I don’t know anything about the sport, I have no clue who those people are. The fashion section is doing great, and I actually wanted to pitch a new topic to you today. A lot of people volunteered for this piece.”
I tried to explain, but from the look in her eyes, I knew she wouldn’t change her mind. What did I do to deserve this? Why was God punishing me like this?
“This weekend’s race is in England, the next ones will be in other countries. Don’t worry – the company will take care of tickets, flights, and accommodation. All you have to do is bring us an article that will blow everyone away. I want the first draft on my desk in two weeks. Now – back to work, everyone. Meeting’s over.”
I didn’t like her decision, but I had to accept it. I came to terms with the fact that for a few weeks, I’d have to step away from my fashion column and dive into the world of people and a sport I knew nothing about. I had three days – three days to learn everything about a completely new world.
And I also accepted the fact that if I didn’t bring them an article that would make jaws drop… I’d be in deep trouble myself.
