Page 86 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

“Well done,” the city manager says. “That was one of the most well-rounded, socially grounded, and fiscally viable proposals we’ve heard today.”

Storm inclines his head. I try to smile, but adrenaline thrums in my limbs, and I’m afraid if I try to hold anything but a neutral expression, I’ll look like I’m having a fit.

A man in a navy pinstripe suit leans forward, his expression thoughtful but probing. “I’m intrigued by the cooperative ownership model. But how would you handle conflicts between co-founders, especially if a startup implodes or pivots mid-cycle?”

Storm steps in.

“Excellent question. We’re implementing a tiered dispute resolution structure that’s modeled partially after how co-ops and credit unions resolve member disagreements. It starts with peer mediation, moves to an advisory panel review, and then to binding arbitration if necessary. That way, the community resolves its own disputesbeforethey ever reach litigation.”

The man nods, making a positive sound.

Another judge, a woman with a stack of stapled papers in front of her, speaks next. “And what’s the ask? You’ve got the plan, the passion—but what would it take to get this off the ground?”

I finally find my voice again. “An initial $500,000 in seed funding. $300,000 for program development and build-out, $150,000 for the first round of founder stipends and admin salaries, and $50,000 for legal and accounting. You’ll see our projections and analysis of the market cap in the deck in front of you, but the short of it is we anticipate being operational within nine months of funding.”

I pause, then add: “And by year three, we project being self-sustaining.”

There’s another silence—shorter this time. The city manager glances at the other panelists and says, “Thank you both. That concludes our questions.”

Storm and I exchange one last glance, and goddamn it if I don’t feel absolutely giddy.

This.This is the stuff that sets my soul on fire: building, innovating, crafting a fully realizedsomethingout of nothing.

This is…this is magic.

Professor Hansen clears his throat, and Storm and I stop in unison. The professor scribbles something on the notepad in front of him slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. When he finally does look up, his gaze is cool and exacting.

“Miss Rivers,” he says.

“Yes, Professor?”

“You’ve had a tendency in my class to lead with ideals rather than logistics. But today, you showed me you’ve finally learned how to balance both.”

My mouth falls open slightly, but I recover.

“Thank you, sir.”

“And Mr.Sandoval,” Hansen adds, tapping his pen once more, “I’ll admit—I expected arrogance. But instead, I saw poise. And partnership.”

Storm shrugs a little, his voice even. “I had a good teammate.”

Hansen’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s some hidden message in the way his eyes narrow. I think it’s a positive thing.

“That’s all. You’re dismissed.”

We walk out of the room in silence, but as soon as the door clicks shut behind us, I collapse against the hallway wall and let out a ragged breath.

Storm leans in close and whispers, “Told you we’d win.”

I release a shaky laugh, feeling on the edge of hysterics.

“Yeah, you did.”

As much as I don’t want to admit that he’s right about something, well, he is right about this.

That presentation couldn’t have gone better. I feel high, light, like I’m floating on air.

“We need to celebrate,” Storm blurts out. Confusion must be super apparent on my face, because he chuckles a bit.

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