22.
Justin
The pulse of excitement is palpable as I step into the sprawling convention center, the air electric with innovation and ambition. The Automotive Showcase has finally arrived—a four-day carnival of technology with an array of pitches and dreams, each display more dazzling than the last. Cutting-edge everything—from car seats to halogen lights to carpets and fabrics to batteries and computer systems—is available for car manufacturers’ perusal as they decide how to outfit their next-generation vehicles.
I weave through the throng, my partners close behind as we find our designated spot. As we begin our setup, we realize it’s not just us here in the EV battery arena. There’s another player, another electric vehicle battery that might just rival our creation. My stomach tightens. Of course, there’s always competition, but I hope this will be our time to shine.
Then, amidst the flurry of activity, Turner appears like a familiar ghost, slipping into our booth, unnoticed by the crowd. No one recognizes the lead singer of Velvet Anomaly—at least not until he sings—so here, in this different context, he’s just one of us, a tech enthusiast getting his fix.
“Love this, man,” he murmurs, fingering a component of our prototype battery. “It’s like being back at school, using both the left and right sides of my brain.”
I smile. Here’s a rock star, incognito, nerding out over circuitry and energy densities.
Just as we’d hoped, soon our booth becomes a beacon, drawing in curious souls with a looping video that showcases our battery’s potential. Crystal is running point behind the scenes, keeping everything going and preparing for the big demonstration we’ll have in a bit. Austin, Rhys, Theo, and I are bombarded with inquiries, which is thrilling. I count it as proof that we have something that matters and can truly make a difference.
“Can it handle extreme temperatures?” a bespectacled woman asks, peering at the specs displayed on the screen.
“Absolutely,” I reply, my voice steady despite the rapid drumbeat of my heart. “We’ve tested it in conditions ranging from the frigid to the scorching—”
“Efficiency during long-term use?” interrupts another, a notebook clutched in his hand.
“Minimal degradation,” Rhys chimes in.
“Recharging times?” A skeptical brow arches from a potential investor.
“Still improving,” Theo admits with a charming grin. “Obviously, it depends on the charging station, and the emptier the battery, the longer it takes to recharge. But our latest model cuts significant minutes off the standard. EV can recharge in eighteen minutes, and EV1 is typically done overnight because it’s the slowest.”
Question after question, our answers volley back, each one a testament to sleepless nights and relentless trials. And Turner’s enthusiasm never wanes as he stands beside us. This is our moment. We’ve waited so long, and damn, it feels good to be here.
The conversation swells around me, a slurry of deals and dreams bartered over glossy displays. Then Mason’s voice cuts through. “Cost projections look solid,” he says, his eyes flicking between the charts on Crystal’s tablet and the automaker representatives encircling us.
“Market penetration by Q3 next year could be realistic,” Cameron adds, tapping a finger against his chin.
I marvel at the way Dillon weaves through the crowds to join them. They are the trinity of SHN, the founders. Their presence at our booth is a fortress against uncertainty. The crowd is three people deep now, and we have SHN to thank—well, and Crystal. But SHN is behind so much of our buzz at the show. In this moment, I realize the depth of their belief in us, not just in our technology, but in our vision. The difficult conversations, the unwavering support despite the turbulence—it’s all led to now, to these discussions that could anchor our future.
Gratitude tightens my throat. They’ve done so much more than invest; they’ve believed, and that belief has been our bedrock. Crystal steps up beside me and slips her hand in mine. I’m so grateful she’s here and for everything she’s done to get us to this place. I squeeze her hand as a ripple of laughter draws my attention to Theo leaning casually against the edge of eBattery’s sleek display. Stephanie Green, the brain behind the battery that’s our friendly rival today, tosses her hair back, her smile wide. Theo’s charm is a live wire, sparking as he leans in, murmuring something that makes her laugh again.
“Your charge time is enviable,” he concedes, respect and a dash of mischief in his tone. “Our power output is neck and neck, but you’ve got us beat there.”
Stephanie tilts her head, an eyebrow quirking. “Perhaps a collaboration could benefit both parties?” She’s teasing, or maybe she’s serious; it’s hard to tell.
“Or perhaps a friendly competition will push us both to greater heights,” Theo counters.
Their banter is a dance of intellects, and I admire the way Theo navigates these waters—flirting not just with a person, but with possibility.
“Justin?” Crystal’s voice snaps me back, and I turn to find her nodding toward the crowd headed into the theater. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Right,” I breathe, stepping forward to collect the guys. We’ve got to get set up for our mainstage presentation.
“You’ve got this! Go break a leg! Or blow it out of the water?” She giggles. We’re all a little giddy right now.
A few minutes later, I step onto the stage, microphone in hand. I glance at Crystal, and the world plunges into semi-darkness, save for the spotlights that cut like beacons through the gloom. My heart races, not with nerves, but with a kinetic energy that propels me forward.
“Good afternoon.” My voice booms over the speakers, clear and confident. “We’re EnergiFusion, and we’re here to ignite your imagination and drive innovation straight into the future.”
On cue, the first vehicle rolls in, Austin behind the wheel of a sleek electric Japanese sedan, its lines cutting a sharp silhouette against the backdrop of pulsing lights. Rhys follows in an avant-garde German sports model, low and predatory, the crowd’s awe audible as it prowls into view. Lastly, Theo rolls up in a luxury American SUV, the kind that speaks of power without uttering a single word.
The music swells, a soundtrack to revolution, every beat a promise of progress, all orchestrated by Crystal, the unseen conductor of our electric dreams.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Turner slipping away, his wave a silent goodbye. He’s off to another stage, another crowd in another city.
I launch into our presentation, and everything flows smoothly. Eventually, we shift gears into Q and A.
“Have you considered production scale?” one potential buyer asks.
“Where will these be manufactured?” another probes.
I exchange a look with Austin. We’re on the brink, teetering on the edge of the next monumental leap. Our technology has captured their imaginations; now, we must make them a reality.
“Manufacturing is our horizon,” I admit to the sea of faces. “We’re exploring several potential sites for our plant, as we want to ensure that we can meet demand and maintain the quality that defines us.”
Nods of understanding greet my words, and when our time is up, the crisp feeling of impending success follows us out of the convention center and into the warm embrace of Quince’s dining room. Mason leads our merry band to a private space.
Once everyone has a seat and something to drink, Mason rises to address the room. “Tonight,” he says, raising a glass of amber liquid, “we’re not just celebrating a successful showcase. We’ve secured an advance deposit from all five major car manufacturers and have piqued the interest of several smaller ones. Car makers are ready to use EnergiFusion batteries as soon as they become available. This level of interest is beyond our wildest dreams. Your financial outlook is about to have a huge shift. There will be nothing you can’t afford. Gentlemen and Crystal—” He nods at her with a smile. “The fruits of your labor are about to set seed.”
Dillon nods in agreement and Cameron’s eyes dance as we burst into applause. A grin stretches across my face, feeling wider than the span of the Golden Gate Bridge. This is it. The moment we’ve been gearing up for, turning every hypothetical into a solid plan.
“I know the Valley is all about stock options,” Mason continues when the room has settled again. “But going public means playing a different game, one that doesn’t guarantee the kind of control or return we want. SHN’s goal has always been to make our money back, and then some. These deals secure that promise.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Mason’s perspective echoes my own desires. SHN has been an invaluable ally, but I don’t want anyone else calling the shots around here.
“Besides,” Mason adds with a sly smile, “who says you can’t make a ton of money and keep your souls intact?”
Laughter ripples around the table, and the weight of unspoken questions lifts. We raise our glasses, the clinking sound merging with a shared sense of accomplishment and relief.
Then a server in a crisp uniform approaches, balancing a tray of effervescent champagne in flutes.
I hand a glass to Crystal as I take one for myself. She grins at me as if I hung the moon. “Thank you.”
“Everyone,” Mason calls. “I’ve been in this game a long time.” He pauses, letting the anticipation build. “But never—never have I seen a team achieve what you have at such a breathtaking pace.” Pride swells in my chest, warmth spreading through me that isn’t just from the alcohol. “Though you did save the exciting part for right at the end.”
Everyone laughs at that, though thinking of our longstanding charging issues still makes me want to throw up.
Mason raises his glass again. “To the fastest billionaires I’ve ever had the privilege of working with!”
“Here, here!” Dillon echoes and Cameron nods.
We all stand, a seamless motion, clinking our glasses together. Laughter and congratulations mingle, and I look around at the faces of my partners—my friends. Their smiles are as bright as the future we’re stepping into.
Theo, as always, has that mischievous twinkle in his eye as he lifts his flute again after the rest of us have settled. “And let’s not forget the one who orchestrated much of today’s spectacle.” He nods to Crystal, who blushes slightly. “To Crystal, whose vision and flair gave us the edge we needed. You turned a showcase into a showstopper.”
“Cheers to Crystal!” Rhys chimes in, and the rest follow suit, another round of clinks resonating around the table.
My gaze lingers on Theo a moment longer than the others, noting the ease of his charm, his deliberate choice of words. Crystal’s laughter is genuine, but I sense something more, an undercurrent that perhaps only I’m attuned to. I file the thought away for later; now, isn’t the time for conjecture.
I slip my hand into Crystal’s and give it a squeeze. I always knew she and the guys would figure out a way to get along. “Thank you for everything you do for EnergiFusion and for us.” She turns to me and smiles.
Now, it’s about the celebration, the shared triumph. Champagne flows, dinner is delicious, and lively tales of the day’s events spill over each other. We bask in the glow of achievement, the camaraderie that comes from having weathered storms and ridden waves to the shore of success. Our financial outlook is now totally different than it was just a few hours ago. I can’t even grasp how that’s possible. Tonight, we are more than a company; we are conquerors who have claimed the future as our own.