Michael Skies, 22 years old, was holed up in his room, surrounded by the mess of his stagnant life—worn-out clothes, empty takeout containers, and a computer screen that seemed to mock his lack of progress. The room was dimly lit, with the occasional flicker of the screen casting erratic shadows on the walls. He could hear the faint murmur of his mother’s voice from the living room, but it barely penetrated his mental fog.

A knock on the door broke the silence, and Michael’s mother called out, “Michael, can you come out here for a moment? Pastor Jeff is here.”

Michael sighed and rubbed his eyes, pushing himself off the bed with a groan. The last thing he wanted was a visit from Pastor Jeff. He knew his mother’s well-meaning attempts to get him involved with the church were coming, but he wasn’t in the mood for another lecture about faith and perseverance. He forced himself up and grabbed a nearby black jacket. He looked in the mirror and fixed his face and disheveled hair a bit.

As he shuffled into the living room, he saw his mother, Eleanor, chatting animatedly with Pastor Jeff, a middle-aged man with a comforting but persistent demeanor. The living room was modestly furnished, with a worn-out sofa and a coffee table cluttered with magazines and knick-knacks. The room was warm and inviting, with sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the space. Jeff stood up as soon as Micheal entered.

“Good evening, Michael,” Pastor Jeff said, extending a hand. “It’s good to see you.”

Michael shook his hand half-heartedly. “Hi, Pastor Jeff.” They all took their seat on the worn-out leather sofa, Jeff and Eleanor facing Micheal.

“We were just talking,” Pastor Jeff began, his voice warm but resolute, “about how you’ve been feeling lately. Your mother mentioned you’ve been having a tough time finding work.”

Michael nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. “Yeah, it’s been rough. I’ve applied everywhere, but no one’s hiring. Life hey.”

Pastor Jeff’s expression softened with sympathy. “I understand. Job hunting can be a long and discouraging process. That’s why we were thinking it might be helpful for you to take some time away from the constant search. Maybe volunteering at the church could provide a new perspective and some spiritual renewal.”

Michael’s mother added, “Pastor Jeff believes that giving back to the community and fasting for a bit might help clear your mind and bring some new opportunities your way.”

Michael tried to suppress his frustration. “I don’t know, Mom. I’ve been praying and trying to stay positive, but nothing seems to change.”

Pastor Jeff placed a reassuring hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Sometimes, when we’re struggling, we need to open ourselves up to different forms of support. Volunteering at the church and fasting can help you refocus and gain clarity. It’s not just about the job; it’s about finding strength in faith and community.”

Michael looked between Pastor Jeff and his mother, seeing the earnest hope in their eyes. He knew they meant well, but he was tired and disheartened. “I appreciate the suggestion, but I don’t know if it will make a difference.”

Pastor Jeff nodded, understanding Michael’s hesitation. “It’s completely up to you, Michael. Just know that we’re here to support you, and sometimes, a fresh start can lead to unexpected opportunities.”

Michael took a deep breath, trying to muster the strength to consider their offer. “I’ll think about it,” he said reluctantly.

Pastor Jeff and his mother exchanged a glance of quiet encouragement before Pastor Jeff offered a final, comforting smile. “Could you make some coffee for Pastor Jeff?” Eleanor asked Micheal.

Michael reluctantly headed to the kitchen. As he prepared the coffee, he overheard his mother and Pastor Jeff discussing the high unemployment rate among youth and the success of the Mason family.

“It’s such a contrast,” Pastor Jeff said, his tone reflecting a mix of admiration and envy. “The Masons are so fortunate. Their son, Billy, has it all—an education, a job in his father’s company. It’s a blessing.”

Michael’s heart sank. He knew all too well the disparity between his situation and Billy Mason’s. His friend had always seemed to glide effortlessly through life, while Michael struggled at every turn.

As he poured the coffee, there was another knock on the door. Michael opened it and saw Billy Mason standing there, his friendly face beaming with a casual confidence. Billy Mason stood at the door, his figure filling the space with a certain presence. He was a chubby boy, his round face framed by a mop of brown hair that was styled in a simple, unremarkable fashion—just a basic cut with a bit of a wave, neatly kept but otherwise unremarkable. His clothes were casual, a pair of comfortable jeans and a button-up shirt that seemed to stretch slightly over his frame. Despite his unassuming appearance, there was a warmth in his expression and a confident ease in his manner that made him stand out.

“Hey, Michael!” Billy greeted with a cheerful wave.

“Hey, Billy,” Michael said, forcing a smile.

“Can I come in?” asked Billy.

“Uhmm, I have a visitor right now. Maybe you could come back la-“

Before he could finish what he was saying, Eleanor appeared behind him, her face brightening at the sight of Billy. “Oh, I knew that voice sounded familiar. Come in, come in, Billy! We were just talking about you. Would you like some coffee? Micheal, make some coffee for Billy too”

Billy stepped inside, and Eleanor ushered him to the living room. Michael sighed as he closed the door and went back to the kitchen to prepare another cup of coffee. When he returned in the living room, he handed the coffee to Billy and Pastor Jeff.

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“Thank you, Michael,” Billy said, accepting his cup with a smile.

. “We’ve been hearing such great things about you, Billy. Your mother mentioned you got a job offer at your father’s company. That’s wonderful!” congratulated Eleanor.

Billy nodded, his smile widening. “Yes, I did. I’ll be starting in the IT department next week. It’s a great opportunity.”

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled with genuine joy. “That’s fantastic news. I’ve been praying for good things for you and for Michael.”

Michael couldn’t help but think, Nepotism. He handed the coffee to Pastor Jeff, who took a sip and nodded approvingly.

“God is great indeed” Pastor Jeff added. “I guess this means we’ll be seeing less of you at church and the volunteer work?”

“Sadly, yes.” Billy replied.

“The church has suffered a great loss. Oh, how we will miss your joyful smiles and your hard work” said Pastor Jeff.

“I’m not dying. I’ll still come by.” replied Billy. They all laughed except Micheal.

After the coffee was finished, Billy and Michael excused themselves, exited the house and headed out for a walk. The fresh air and quiet streets provided a brief escape from the weight of their conversation.

 The town where Michael and Billy live is a small, close-knit community with a tranquil atmosphere. Its narrow, winding streets are lined with modest homes showcasing old-world charm, complemented by neatly trimmed lawns and flower beds. The streets are rarely busy, with a leisurely pace of life and occasional friendly greetings among residents.

“So, you got the job at your dad’s company, huh?” Michael asked as they strolled. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“Yeah, it’s a great opportunity,” Billy said. “I’m excited about it. How about you? Still looking for work?”

Michael’s face fell. “Yeah, still looking. I did a trade in mechanics, but I’ve been unemployed for two years now. I guess it was a waste of mom’s money.”

Billy’s expression softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s tough out there. But things will work out. They always do”

Michael forced a smile. “Yeah, they do.” They walked in silence for a while, no one knowing what to say. “So, you and Mary” Micheal said as he looked at Billy.

Billy stopped “What about us?” he asked giggling a bit. “You know the streets talk. Word has it that you two have been strangely close these days. Have you finally won her?”

Billy’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he laughed, a little nervously. “Well, Mary and I have been spending more time together. She’s great, and we’ve been getting to know each other better. But, you know, it’s still early days.”

“Look at you” said Micheal, hitting Billy on the back, playfully. “Mr Lover-boy” they both laughed. “Honestly man, congratulations on everything. Mary, your new job… Good for you, man”

“I appreciate it, bro.” replied Billy with a genuine smile.

They continued walking down the street, their conversation light and easy. As they approached a large mansion, the grandeur of Billy's home came into view—an imposing structure with elegant architecture and manicured gardens that spoke of wealth and privilege.

“Well, this is me,” Billy said, stopping in front of the mansion. “I guess I’d better head in. Thanks for the chat, Michael.”

“Anytime, Billy. See you around,” Michael said, waving goodbye.

As Billy turned and walked up the driveway, Michael began his own journey back home. The sun had nearly set, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. He noticed a strange figure out of the corner of his eye, standing on the sidewalk. When he turned to look, the figure was gone, leaving only the empty street behind. Michael shook his head, dismissing it as a trick of the fading light.

Continuing down the road, Michael reached his house but decided not to stop. His frustration and restless thoughts led him to wander further, eventually arriving at the old church at the edge of town. The church stood silent and still, its doors slightly ajar as if inviting him in.

He pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. The interior was dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of candles flickering on the altar. The church was empty, as it was Friday evening and not a time for services. Michael walked to the front row of seats, feeling the cool, worn wooden pew beneath him as he sat down.

His thoughts began to spill out in a quiet murmur, his voice trembling with a mix of frustration and desperation.

“Never thought I’d find myself sitting alone here. That’s how life is, I guess. One big f*** you after another.” Michael’s voice trembled as he spoke, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Oh shhh, my bad, I apologize for swearing.” He laughed nervously, the sound cracking with sadness.

“I’ve been trying and trying and trying, but nothing seems to work out. I did my best and got good grades in high school. I stayed away from drugs and other harmful substances. Turns out those grades weren’t enough for a scholarship.” His voice faltered, and tears began to cascade down his face.

“I didn’t have enough funds to go to college. My mom used her last money so I could do a trade. Turns out not many people need their cars fixed around here. I’ve been unemployed for two years! Two f***ing years!” His voice broke as he cried, looking up at the huge cross on the wall. “Don’t you know how useless that makes me feel? Watching Mom struggle to make ends meet while I could do nothing about it. Why do you do this to me? Why don’t you answer me, dammit!” His shout echoed through the empty church, then fell into a heavy silence.

He began to giggle, a broken sound that didn’t match the sorrow in his eyes as he wiped away the tears. “Do you even hear me? Do my prayers even reach you? Are you even there?”

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever until the strange man’s voice cut through it with an eerie calmness. “Ah, yes… the old age question.”

Michael turned to face the man, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. The figure’s painted face and strange attire only added to the sense of surrealism. The man’s presence felt otherworldly, as if he had stepped out of a forgotten realm. The heavy, worn-out bag he carried seemed to hold secrets, and his eyes, partially obscured by the beaded dreadlocks, glinted with an unsettling light.

“Who the fxck are you?” Michael’s voice trembled as he asked, his mind racing with confusion and dread.

“I don’t think that language is allowed at church,” the mysterious man replied, settling himself on the far back pews. His voice was calm, almost amused.

Michael’s frustration flared as he glared at the man. “How long have you been eavesdropping? Not cool, man,” he said, standing up to leave.

The man’s gaze was steady and unblinking. “I may be the answer to your prayers. An angel who has come to guide you towards greatness. Or a devil who has come to take your soul. Though I don’t think the devil shows himself at church. Wait, didn’t your former priest molest kids here… maybe the devil can show himself at church…” His voice trailed off as he saw Michael heading for the door.

“I don’t have time for your crazy shi… nonsense,” Michael snapped.

“I can help you make money,” the man said, his tone surprisingly persuasive as Michael was about to walk past him. “Or rather, I can help you help yourself make money.”

Michael stopped; his curiosity piqued despite his anger. He turned back toward the man, his eyes narrowing. “Listen here, Mister… I don’t like you. I don’t like what you’re doing.”

“What exactly am I doing?” the man asked, a hint of mockery in his voice. “Helping? You don’t want help. You seem like you need it.”

Michael’s rage nearly overcame him, and he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I offer you the solution to all your problems,” the man continued, reaching into his worn-out brown bag. He pulled out a round, transparent orb with a smooth, glass-like surface—a crystal ball—and a dry, aged bone.

Michael’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Ohhhhh, you’re one of those fortune tellers trying to make money off the gullible. You’re more of a scumbag than I thought,” he exclaimed, his tone dripping with disdain.

The man’s expression remained unchanged.