Chapter 1
My foot bounced up and down, the wait unbearable. I tried to distract myself by listening to the soft sounds of the busy workplace around me, but it was almost impossible. This had to be it, right? This would be our chance, no?
I felt a hand on my thigh. Turning, I saw Cliff beside me, giving me a calming smile, my heart warming merely at the sight of him.
“Calm down,” he said.
“Easy to say, hard to do,” I responded.
“We are going to nail this.”
“We thought that about the other pitches.”
He seemed to contemplate my reply, making an almost funny face.
“Well, this time, it will be different.”
His words were a calming relief in this sea of nerves. I leaned back in my seat, wondering how much longer we were going to have to wait.
“We’ve pitched so many by now,” I remarked.
“These things aren’t easy.”
I knew he was right.
“No, but every no makes it even harder,” I said.
“Don’t lose faith. Somebody will love our idea.”
“I hope you’re right,” I whispered, biting down on my lip, my leg bouncing again.
My heart began racing, my palms sweaty. It didn’t help that the heat was unbearable even inside. How long is this going to take?
“Melanie Perkins and Cliff Obrecht.”
I perked up, turning my head to see a woman calling our names. I rose, holding my things tightly to me, almost shaking. We walked over to her.
“This way,” she guided.
We followed behind her to a large room with glass walls surrounding us. As we walked in, I noticed a large screen behind the long table. She closed the door, leaving us alone with several people seated around it, but my eyes locked onto one particular person: Greg Mitchell, leading Indepth.
Greetings were exchanged before we could finally begin our introduction, my heart hammering as I spoke.
“Before I explain my background and how I came up with this idea, could you please try to drag and drop an image?”
Moving toward one of the men around the table—Peter, their developer—I pushed my computer toward him, an open design page already loaded in Internet Explorer 6.
Peter seemed a bit surprised by the request, as if he already knew what was about to happen—he most likely did—but the moment he tried moving the image, the page glitched.
Everyone watched, their interest suddenly captured.
“Not so easy, right?”
I glanced at Greg, noticing the impressed look on his face. Moving back to my spot beside Cliff, I began my story.
“While studying at the University of Perth, I also work part-time teaching design programs.”
Already it was difficult to tell whether I had truly caught their attention, but the calm expression on Greg’s face gave me the courage to continue.
“I noticed something about every design tool,” I paused for dramatic effect. “They were all incredibly difficult to use.”
Interesting looks spread across their faces, though I found it impossible to decipher whether they agreed or disagreed.
“I found it ridiculous that they were all desktop-based and required an absurd amount of time to learn,” I continued. “Years, even.”
I turned toward Cliff.
“Something I know Cliff can agree on.”
He nodded, smiling at me, calming my nerves once more.
“That’s when the idea came to me,” I said. “We need simpler design software. Online and collaborative.”
Notes were scribbled down, making my heart hammer even harder. I didn’t want more nos. I didn’t want to hear again how expensive it would be, despite the loan already backing us up. While I understood these investors had to do what they believed was right for their firm and their money, I truly believed in this idea. I just wanted a chance.
“Do either of you study IT? Software engineering?” Greg inquired.
I glanced at Cliff, noticing the amused smile tugging at his lips.
“No. Neither of us do.”
“And yet you believe you are capable of creating such a software program?”
I nodded.
“You understand it’s no simple task. There’s a reason these programs are desktop-based.”
“I understand that,” I said, my voice rising slightly, “but it takes forever for users to learn them. Think about it this way: we need more user-friendly programs, so things like yearbooks don’t have to be designed only by trained individuals. People without software or IT backgrounds should still be able to create something beautiful and professional without spending years learning how.”
I watched the way they glanced at one another, as if holding an entire silent conversation between themselves. It only worsened my nerves. A calming hand landed on my shoulder. I glanced at Cliff, finding him steady beside me like a rock.
“That’s why we believe Fusion Books can become something incredible,” I added, drawing their attention back to me. “To make things like yearbooks beautiful, simple, and accessible. In Fusion Books, people can create and we help printing.”
Silence fell over the room, making it impossible to tell whether I had truly captured their interest.
What if this became another no? What if they told us, like everyone else, that the idea was impossible? Too expensive? Too ambitious? Or maybe they simply had no faith that a pair of full-time students could ever bring something like this to life.
Please believe in us.
Believe in our idea.
“Ms. Perkins,” Greg began.
