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DECEMBER 20, 2017 / VALLENCIO PROJECT MANAGEMENT HEADQUARTERS, ROOM 13C

December 20th. Five days out from Christmas.

Asher was hoping that some premature do-gooder generosity would sweep over the panel of smartly-dressed business people in front of him.

It'd been over a year of hard work. 

Seventeen months of drafting, crowdfunding and prototyping that lead them here. How could Asher have known that his proposal to Ryanel last July would lead to cofounding a start-up business?

After reluctantly accepting, Ryanel had introduced Asher to Kelvin Cho.

Kelvin was a post-grad engineering student who was researching bio-engineering and human enhancement for his thesis. They needed someone who had the niche expertise that neither Ryanel nor Asher possessed. Kelvin was the one who took Asher's idea and, with his newfound protege Ryanel, turned it into a tangible prototype.

Then they hit a roadblock. 

Admittedly, their plastic prototype was impressive. 

Sneaking into the 3D-printing lab had paid off: it had all the moving bits and the right wires in the right place but it would never hold up in real life. Buying the appropriate materials would be a real blow to the non-existent wallet that the two university students and unemployed Asher had.

Through Kelvin, they met Annalise Emmerblum, an accountant with a charitable heart. She took pity on the three men and decided to lend her financial know-how until they secured more reliable funding. 

Initially, she was only supposed to be involved with the project on a temporary basis.

"Once you boys find your feet money-wise, I'll leave you to it. But you keep me updated on how things go, yeah?" Annalise had warned. "Shit, this coffee's good."

On the cusp of winter last year, he and Ryanel had watched desperately as Kelvin tried to ply his friend with an endless stream of caffeine. Asher remembered that day vividly. 

In fact, he remembered how he met each of the three talented friends who had come to support, teach and push him. 

And he remembered every day since.

"Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Annalise Emmerblum, Chief Financial Officer of Ekaterina Technologies," she adjusted her headscarf before the room of stiff-necked investors, extending a hand to gesture to each of her colleagues.

"This is Kelvin Cho, Chief Engineering Officer, and Ryanel Gonzales, Chief Operations Officer. Asher Delrov is the CEO of Delrov Tech." She shot him a warm, reassuring smile.

Asher stood up, walking to the lectern at the front of the room. He clicked the laptop cursor, bringing up the first slide on their presentation. A childhood picture of himself and his mother, her brown hair flicking outwards at her shoulders, beamed upon the room.

"This is my mother, Ekaterina. She died when I was nine. I always rode my bike to visit her at the cemetery where she lies," Asher began softly.

Kelvin and Ryanel sent comforting glances his way — as if to say they were proud of him, and that they believed in him. From his position at the head of the long meeting room, Asher quickly gauged the reactions of his audience.

These types of people, angel investors, business men and philanthropists, seemed to be used to such personal stories. Ironically, despite the nature of their work, Asher could tell they thought with their head, not their hearts.

So while their blank stares were somewhat unnerving, Asher focused on the glimmering curiosity that many of them held in their eyes. He turned back to the picture of Ekaterina, keeping his gaze locked on her beautiful, warm smile.

The next words of his presentation fell from his lips like carbon dioxide.

Naturally.

After explaining how his bike-riding hobby began as a family pastime, developed into a coping mechanism for his grief, and eventually solidified as a career, Asher revealed the injuring that ended it all.

Together with Kelvin, they proposed their model for a lightweight prosthetic with athleticism and functionality in mind. They had many diagrams and technical cross-sections to show, but tried to condense this part because Asher knew that winning anyone's belief rarely had anything to do with logistics.

It was all to do with heart.

Next, Annalise ran through the budget and handed out their pre-printed financial statements to the potential investors. This would have been the most boring part, if not for her charming wit and winning grin.

Ryanel suggested the potential for further income to be made through sport partnerships and sponsorships of the wearers of the prosthetic limbs. And, more importantly, he drove home the invaluable positive impact such prosthetics could have on restoring mobility to not only athletes who've undergone amputation, but for anyone who needs it.

By this point a lump had formed in Asher's throat and he found it difficult to breathe steadily. The holidays were always a bittersweet time of year, but mixed in with the ache for his lost loved ones was the sheer gratitude that he was surrounded by so many wonderful people.

When it became his turn to wrap up the pitch, he had to ball his hand into a fist to stop it shaking so badly.

"I won't lie. This endeavour started as quite a selfish project. A pity party, some would even say. I was in a very dark place in the months following my amputation. I had to learn some hard truths, and fast."

The investors watched with significantly fonder eyes now, one woman cupping her mouth in her palm with a visibly touched expression.

"Life isn't always fair. Really bad things happen to people who don't deserve them in the least. But no matter who deserves what and who gets what, every person on this earth has the ability to hope. To dream. To attempt to change their tomorrow for the better. I find that beautiful."

Asher clicked to the last picture of their presentation, a picture of the four of them in a children's hospital ward. They'd met a group of children who had mobility issues — some were amputees, and some had only ever known this sort of life.

"With this product, hopefully some of those hopes and dreams can be realised. If you could help us in changing just one person's future for the better, I . . ."

Asher's eyes flickered to his colleagues - no, friends - to either side of him and smiled.

"I would be one of the happiest people on earth."

As he concluded, the room burst into applause.

Asher would have noticed the claps and cheers more clearly, but he only registered them like white noise, for he was too busy pulling his three friends into an group hug and holding them as tightly as he could.

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