A week later, during one of our team meetings, Maya just couldn't hold back. The plans had already been floated, and Ryan was still in camp for one that was conservative. Maya, who was now dubious about it, made her hand shoot up on its own. "Well I think I've got it," She said haltingly but tensing up for the confrontation. Ryan did not even look at her. "Alright," he ordered in a distant voice. He was looking at something on his tablet, mumbling to himself as though he could not be bothered by another rookie's idea. But Maya didn't back down. She got up, moved to the part in front of the classroom, and went through her slides.
"Okay ", she said her vocal cords getting stronger again. They say all those talks about Starlight's superior technology are as wrong as we have not noticed something rather significant. Starlight doesn't simply use bioprinting to distribute its product; it tells a story. But it's not just the story about how it was developed in the absence of almost any tech, but about the people who developed it. She raised the cursor to the next file, and there were photos of real people working at Starlight. These are the people who bring all the engineers, the designers, and the innovators behind the brand to life. Imagine if we not only sell the product but empower it to tell its stories. Their challenges, one's interests, one's achievements? What if instead of portraying Starlight as this distant brand only accessible to astronauts we tell the customer that there are people behind the production of every product?
The room fell silent. Ryan didn't look at her. Priya raised an eyebrow, Ahmed was smiling a bit, which seemed a bit arrogant. Ignoring the signal, Maya took another deep breath and proceeded to fight back realizing that did not want to give in.
"Imagine this campaign focusing on the people who shape the technology, showing the faces behind the screens, connecting with the audience on a personal level. I'm not saying we discard the tech aspects—those are crucial. But we can add a layer of depth by highlighting the human stories that make Starlight more than just a brand."
Ryan finally lifted his eyes from his tablet, his gaze sharp but unreadable. He said nothing for a long moment.
Maya's breath caught in her throat as she finished her idea. The room was silent, every pair of eyes locked on her as she spoke, each second stretching into eternity. When she finished, she couldn't even look at Ryan. She was too afraid to see his reaction.
For a moment, no one said anything. The quiet was suffocating, like the calm before a storm. Maya stood frozen in front of the team, her palms clammy. This was it—her shot at proving herself. But had she overstepped? Did she say too much?
Finally, Ryan broke the silence, his voice unexpectedly soft but tinged with something else—a hesitation Maya wasn't used to hearing from him.
"You're… serious about this?" he asked, a slight narrowing of his eyes. His usually confident demeanor seemed a little rattled.
Maya swallowed hard, trying not to show how the tension in the room was starting to eat away at her confidence. "Yes," she said, her voice steady despite the nerves gnawing at her. "It's about connecting with the people, not just the tech. We can still highlight Starlight's innovation, but there has to be a human story behind it."
Ryan looked at her for a long moment, and Maya couldn't tell what he was thinking. She'd always known him as someone who had the answers. He never hesitated. And yet, now, he was still. His fingers tapped the edge of his tablet absently, his gaze drifting out of focus.