We're doing this backwards," he said. "No product yet. No lab. No supply chain. What you have is a why. That's not nothing. But you need a what, how, when, and where next."
He scribbled:
WHY — healing, presence, legacy
WHAT — ??? (define product line)
WHERE — local or global?
WHEN — launch timeline?
HOW — sourcing, branding, funding
Then he looked over his shoulder. "Talk me through these. All of them. Out loud."
I stared at the board.
Then at him.
And strangely — instead of fear — I felt it again.
That slow, quiet ignition in my chest.
Maybe this was it.
Not the final stage.
But the beginning.
Of being seen for the right reasons.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Alex tapped the whiteboard again. "Let's go. Start with what. Be specific."
I exhaled.
WHAT
"Perfume," I said. "But not mass-market. Something personal. Layered. Each scent built like a story."
"Too abstract," he said. "Storytelling is a method. What's the product?"
I hesitated, then corrected, "A limited perfume line. Maybe three variants to start. Core collection."
Maverick chimed in, "She wants each scent to feel like an experience—emotion-forward. Not celebrity-fluff."
Alex nodded. "Better. Give me the working names of those three scents. Don't overthink it."
I blinked. "Now?"
"Yes. Now. First names that come to mind."
"…Haven. Ember. Veil."
He paused. Scribbled all three. "Those are strong. Clean. You can workshop the meaning later. On to where."
WHERE
I cleared my throat.
"Launch will be local. Probably online-first. Then build into boutique placements. Maybe curated stockists."
Maverick added, "We've looked at a few concept stores that do indie brands — we'd fit their curation model."
Alex tilted his head. "Define local. Which city?"
I glanced at Maverick, then said, "Velmoor."
He looked up. "Why Velmoor?"
"Because it's where I was given a second chance," I said softly. "Where I was found. Where this idea was born. I want it to bloom here first."
He considered that. "Fine. Velmoor is your test market. Digital-first, then footprint expansion. Let's talk when."
WHEN
I hesitated.
"Realistically," I said, "Six months from now. Pre-launch campaign in four. Testing in three."
Alex raised a brow. "Too aggressive. You have zero infrastructure. You'd crash."
Maverick cut in. "She can do five months. If we start tomorrow. And outsource early."
Alex held my gaze. "You'll burn out."
I didn't flinch. "I'd rather burn building something that matters."
He studied me a second longer. Then wrote:
Launch goal: Five months. Reassess in three.
---
HOW
I leaned forward.
"Short-term, we'll partner with a scent lab. Sample raw blends. I'll work with their formulators to develop the base notes I want. No internal lab yet. That's phase two."
"Funding?" Alex asked.
"I'll use my savings. And Maverick's in."
"Half," Maverick confirmed. "I believe in it."
Alex looked at me. "And?"
"And I'd rather scale slowly than take investor money too soon," I said.
He gave a slight smile. "Good answer."
He underlined HOW and moved to the last section.
---
WHY
(Alex's voice softened slightly)
"You already said healing. Memory. Your mother. But brands live or die by clarity. Say it again. But better."
I didn't look at the board.
I looked at my hands.
"My whole life," I said, "I've been trying to name the things I lost. My identity. My past. Whisparé is me choosing to create something instead. A scent that speaks before I do. That says, 'You can exist in pieces and still be whole.' It's healing. On skin. For people like me."
Silence.
Maverick didn't speak.
Alex didn't move.
Then he capped the marker and stepped away from the board.
"Now it sounds like a brand," he said.
So, Alex said, finally sitting. "Let's make something that doesn't ask for space—
It takes it. Quietly. Completely."
.
.
.
And just like that,
Whisparé became real.