The following morning, the trio gathered again at the same small café in East Dock. The place smelled of burnt espresso and stale bagels, but for Aruna, it felt like the headquarters of their future empire.
Aruna was already waiting, flipping through her leather-bound notebook. Reza came late, carrying a second-hand laptop with peeling stickers. Naya arrived last, still panting from running up the hill to get there on time.
"Alright," Aruna said, pushing her notebook forward. "We need to face reality. We have three months to create a minimum viable product. No more. No less."
Naya nodded, still catching her breath. "Got it."
Reza plugged in his laptop and opened a blank screen. "Let's talk features first."
Aruna hesitated. She had dreamed about this product for months—an educational platform that would adjust itself to the user's learning style, even on low bandwidth. But dreaming and building were two very different things.
"We need to start simple," Reza said bluntly. "A basic version: login, lesson modules, progress tracking."
"And gamification," Aruna added quickly. "Kids love points, badges, rewards. It keeps them engaged."
Reza shrugged. "Fine. But no overcomplicating. Every extra feature is extra time."
Naya leaned back, arms crossed. "And what about the market? How do we get users?"
Aruna smiled. "Grassroots. I still have connections in small towns. We could do community outreach—schools, local events, that kind of thing."
Naya sighed. "That's charming, but not scalable. We need a growth strategy from day one."
Aruna felt her stomach twist. "We're not selling a fashion app, Naya. We're solving a real problem."
"And real problems require real money to solve," Naya shot back. "Don't get emotional. We need investors, grants, anything to survive."
The tension at the table thickened.
Reza tapped the table with his pen. "Maybe we do both. Pilot program first. Prove the model. Then pitch."
Naya looked unconvinced but didn't argue further.
Aruna took a deep breath. This was her dream, but dreams had to coexist with reality—or die.
"Alright," she said. "Pilot program first. Let's choose one town, one school. We make it work there. Then we scale."
Naya nodded, finally softening a little. "That's better. Measurable, realistic."
Reza opened a coding environment. "Good. Now shut up and let me work."
Aruna chuckled, the earlier tension melting a bit. She could already see it—students in dusty villages learning algebra, science, languages, their faces lighting up as they unlocked a new level in their education journey. All because they dared to believe it was possible.
The rest of the week passed in a blur.
Aruna spent her days researching underserved towns, calling old friends from her hometown, drafting pitch decks. Reza coded like a man possessed, barely eating or sleeping. Naya worked on competitor analysis, partnership strategies, and operational plans.
Sleep became optional. Money evaporated even faster.
One night, while staring at her cracked phone screen, Aruna received a message from her landlord:
[Reminder: Rent due in 5 days. No excuses this time.]
She bit her lip. Her savings had dwindled to almost nothing. Rent, food, transportation—everything was bleeding her dry.
Her mind whispered doubts. Maybe you should go back. Find a job. Be normal.
But then she remembered the look in Reza's eyes when he agreed to join her. The skeptical but daring glint in Naya's gaze. They were betting on her.
She couldn't afford to lose—not just for herself, but for them too.
On Sunday evening, the team gathered again at the café. Reza presented the early demo on his laptop: a simple but functional learning platform. Login screen, basic modules, a cute badge system.
Naya's heart swelled. It was real. It was happening.
Aruna tapped her fingers thoughtfully. "It's a start. Now we need our first pitch."
Naya frowned. "Pitch? To who?"
"Velaris Start—remember? That local accelerator program? They're opening applications next week," Aruna said. "Top five startups get mentorship, funding, and office space."
Naya hesitated. "But... are we ready?"
Aruna smirked. "No one's ever ready. But that's not the point. The point is showing them that we are inevitable."
Reza closed his laptop. "I'm in. Let's pitch."
Aruna inhaled sharply. Actually, Fear clawed at her chest, but beneath it, excitement simmered.
The first pitch.
The first real battle.
The moment everything could begin—or end.
"Alright," she said, smiling despite the anxiety gnawing at her. "Let's win this."