Page 95 of Until We Burn
My feet feel like they’re made of lead as I force them to move towards the podium. Through the slat in the glass window, I can see Luke, Rowan, and Wallace praying in a circle with their hands locked together. Wallace is leading, and Luke is aggressively gesturing at Rowan, who looks like he wants to bash him with the Korean Bible.
Despite everything, they believe in me enough to be here and support me. What if I did the same for myself? How far can I go if I stop thinking I’m a complete fuck up all the time?
My hands grip the sides of the podium before I slowly look out at the conference room of people. The fluorescent lights beam down on skeptical faces that I want to prove wrong.
“The Pacific Observer’s strengths lie in shining light on issues that mainstream media doesn’t cover. That accounts for over eighty-five percent of their subscriptions,” I explain. “While there are several strengths, the Pacific Observer needs to be cognizant of how inclusive their content is. According to the National Statistics Index, ninety percent of websites are inaccessible to people with disabilities who need assistive technology.”
I click to the next page that shows a series of bar graphs. “The results of a survey showed these factors are the reasons why?—”
“I’m sorry,” Matthias cuts in. An incredulous smile stretches across his face. “Ninety percent? Those numbers are clearly inflated.”
Nervousness darts through me like pinpricks. The confidence I mustered up slowly drains out.
“Uh…these numbers are from the National Statistics Index, sir.” I swallow hard. “It’s a trusted source used by the Canadian government.”
Matthias rolls his eyes. “Listen, there’s a ton of talk about how we need more accessibility and inclusion, but we hardly see the groups who need it participating.”
The room is quiet, and everyone is staring at me.
You did the research. You know what you’re presenting is accurate and thorough. You did a good job on this.
I gulp. My hands curl tighter around the podium. “I…I see your point, Mr. Valdis. But a-at the same time, we often…we construct things that, you know, make it hard for people living with disabilities to fully participate in stuff.”
Doubt crushes my confidence into dust as Matthias arches his brow. “In what way is our society inaccessible? They get benefits. Hell, half of the spaces in a parking lot are designated for them.”
“I—”
“I know the quality of the organizations I invest in, son. I don’t appreciate being told lies about what we’re supposedly lacking in,” Matthias snaps. “Especially when the problem isn’t our fault.”
Diana’s hair clip isn’t enough to ward off the suffocating dread rising in me. It doesn’t matter if we’re on the ice or not. Matthias isn’t holding back his hostility towards me.
Nirah’s colleagues fidget uncomfortably.
I want to move on, just forget Matthias, and finish the presentation as planned. But I can’t shake off the frustration that assholes like Simon and Matthias Valdis run their mouths and take up space without shame. I give one hundred percent into everything I do that it’s not fucking fair for Matthias to take it out on me all because his son feels threatened on the ice.
I look Matthias dead in the eye. “We’ve been compiling this strategic plan for weeks?—”
Matthias cups his ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
I glare at him. “We’ve been compiling this strategic plan forweeksto help the Pacific Observer draw in more subscriptions to benefit their long-term business plans. Everything my group and I have done is for the good of the news organization. I’m sorry you don’t like what you’re hearing, but that’s the reality the company must tackle if it ever wants to survive in the digital age.”
Respect slowly dawns in the eyes of every person in the room. Matthias is the only one left fuming in his seat.
Nirah smirks at me, nodding in approval.Nice,she mouths.
But I don’t feel relieved. I feel drained and worn out from constantly putting everything I have into something only to give dicks like Matthias Valdis the power to make me question everything I do.
Nirah clears her throat and smooths a hand over her blazer. “In the interest of time, I’d like to move on to implementation tactics. If you have any questions, please leave them at the end. Thank you.”
I get off the podium. My muscles ache from how much I was tensing up during the presentation. By the grace of God, Matthias keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the night.
It doesn’t last, though.
At the end of the presentation, Matthias comes forward to shake my hand. His grip is strong and relentless, reminding me of the world he dominated before he stepped into this one.
“Thank you for your insight.”
“Thank you for listening.”
