I was climbing down.
Why would I climb up anymore? There is no more fun here. There is no more persuasion to be done.
Why did I enter the mountain with those damn morons?
........
Everyone loved Joseph Bishop.
That much was obvious.
The moment I stepped onto the stage, conversations died down. Hundreds of people turned toward him, smiling before I had even spoken a word.
A true golden beacon of light.
I smiled back.
Not because I cared.
But because it worked.
"Good morning, everyone."
The congregation answered in unison. With elation and reverence.
"Good morning, Pastor Joe!"
The room practically glowed with warmth.
Children waved at me.
Adults smiled.
An old woman in the front row looked ready to cry simply because I remembered her name last week.
I had spent years learning exactly what people wanted.
Some wanted comfort.
Some wanted purpose.
Some wanted someone to tell them that everything would be okay.
The trick wasn't giving them those things. The trick was convincing them they already had.
"Now," I said, resting my hands on the podium, "I know some of you had a difficult week."
Heads nodded throughout the room.
A man in the third row had lost his job.
A woman near the back was going through a divorce.
Several teenagers looked exhausted from school.
I knew all of this. Not because I cared enough to ask, but because information was power.
And power was useful.
"Life isn't about avoiding hardship."
I paused.
People leaned forward.
"It's about deciding whether hardship controls you."
The crowd murmured in agreement.
I almost laughed. It was comical, really.
Not because the message was wrong.
But...
Because I had made it up ten seconds ago. Yet they acted as though he had revealed a profound truth.
Amazing.
Humans were so easy.
I held back an ecstasy-like smile from forming on my lips. But in my head, I let it loose. Let the mask I hold back slip only in my imagination for now.
I continued speaking.
Stories, jokes, and encouragement.
Every sentence carefully crafted.
Every smile practiced.
Every pause intentional.
It was a flawless and truly inspirational design.
I almost felt myself well up in tears.
....
Almost.
By the time the service ended, several people were crying. Others were hugging each other, and clinging like they found a newfound appreciation for this thing we call life.
One man even thanked me for changing his life.
I accepted the praise with humble grace.
Internally, though. "I wonder what I should have for lunch today?"
An old lady is facing difficulties paying a doctor's bill.
I quietly make a phone call.
The problem disappears.
Sigh, it really was too easy to win the hearts of humans.
"Pastor Joe!"
A young volunteer hurried over.
"That was incredible."
"Thank you."
"It was exactly what I needed to hear."
I placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder.
"I'm glad to hear that."
The volunteer practically beamed.
I waited until he left before rolling his eyes.
"You're getting lazy."
I turned.
Alexandria Queen stood nearby, holding a clipboard.
Blonde hair.
Sharp eyes.
Curvy figure.
Her expression suggested that she was permanently disappointed in everyone.
Including me sometimes. I didn't mind, though.
"Good morning to you too."
"You reused three stories."
"They worked."
"That's not the point."
I grinned a practiced grin.
"It literally is the point."
Alexandria stared at him, clicking her pen.
Staring blankly back at her eventually, she sighed.
"Attendance is up twelve percent."
"See?"
"The donation fund is also up."
"See?"
"Several members have become concerningly devoted to you."
I smiled.
"See? Now, when's the party?"
Alexandria pinched the bridge of her nose.
Sometimes she genuinely wondered whether Joe was a genius or an idiot.
The answer changed daily.
"Come on," I said.
"We've got another meeting tonight."
Alexandria's expression immediately became serious.
"The private one."
"The fun one."
"Please stop calling it that."
I laughed.
"Never."
Hours later, the church sat empty.The sun disappeared below the horizon. A completely different crowd began to arrive.
Black SUVs rolled into an abandoned industrial district.
Men and women entered an old warehouse one after another.
Some wore business suits.
Some wore expensive dresses.
Others wore ordinary clothes.
Doctors.
Teachers.
Police officers.
Lawyers.
Students.
Hundreds of people.
All gathered beneath a symbol painted upon the concrete floor.
A symbol that did not belong to any church.
At the center of the room stood a stage.
Upon that stage I stood. A golden mask no longer dawned upon me. But a new one, a darker one.
The crowd erupted into applause.
I raised a hand.
Instant silence.
That always felt good. Righteous bastards, or evil bastards. All are bastards that silence upon my hand.
Alexandria stood behind him.
Watching.
Measuring.
Judging.
I cleared my throat.
"My friends."
The crowd listened intently.
"There are people who spend their entire lives searching for meaning."
Heads nodded.
"There are people who spend their entire lives waiting for permission."
More nods.
I smiled.
"We are neither."
Cheers erupted.
Alexandria watched the audience carefully.
Who cheered first.
Who hesitated.
Who looked uncertain.
Everything mattered.
Every weakness.
Every doubt.
Every potential problem.
I continued speaking.
The crowd hung onto every word.
And for the first time all day, I wasn't pretending.
This is the version of myself I like the most.
It wasn't the pastor.
Nor the community leader.
Definitely not the role model.
This.
Standing above people.
Watching them believe.
Watching them trust.
Watching them willingly hand over pieces of themselves. There was something intoxicating about it. It was more intoxicating than alcohol.
And I knew alcohol very well.
The meeting lasted three hours. When it finally ended, the warehouse emptied.
Only I and Alexandria remained.
The silence felt strange.
I collapsed into a chair. Wine glass in hand.
"That was fun."
Alexandria was already organizing reports.
"Three members need disciplinary review."
"Already?"
"They questioned financial allocations."
"That's boring." I take a sip.
"That's reality."
I groaned dramatically.
"What's reality without the party of unreality?"
Alexandria ignored him.
A few moments passed.
Then I stared up at the ceiling.
"You ever get tired of this?"
Alexandria stopped writing.
"Tired of what?"
He gestured vaguely.
"The church."
"The cult."
"The meetings."
"The pretending."
Alexandria frowned.
"No."
I chuckled.
"Of course you don't."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You'd organize the stars if someone let you."
Alexandria considered that.
"Yes."
I laughed supposed hearty laugh.
Then my smile slowly faded.
For a moment, something genuine crossed my face.
Something restless.
Something hungry.
"There has to be something bigger."
Alexandria looked up.
"Bigger than controlling thousands of people?"
"Much bigger."
"A bigger party is out there waiting for us."
Outside, thunder rolled across the night sky.
Neither of them noticed the stars briefly shifting.
Neither of them noticed a certain god leaning forward over a cosmic game board.
A goblet made of celebrations resting in his hand.
And neither of them heard the amused voice echoing through eternity.
"Oh, you're going to be fun."
Somewhere far beyond reality itself, Stark smiled.
He had found his Miracle.