“Even money takes a back seat,” Roy said. “It really does. The real currency has been right in front of us all along. Just most people tend not to acknowledge it. They say it’s not proper to discuss.”

Joe finished his scan across the room and ended it at the barroom entrance, where he locked eyes with the hostess once more. She was idle, for the moment, and she seemed happy that his eyes had revisited her.

“Proper,” Roy repeated, with a laugh.

While still staring dumbly in her direction, he watched her full lips slowly change into a gorgeous smile. He felt his entire body quiver.

“Proper is just a word that oblivious people use to help themselves sleep better at night. Because people have only one real motivation. Anyone who denies it is walking around with blinders on, shielding themselves from the truth.”

Joe barely listened to him. He was still unable to look away, especially as the hostess began walking over to him. Once out from behind the greeting stand, he could see her shirt, which was not just too short to cover her torso fully, but rather it looked like it had been purposefully rolled up and tightened. Revealed was her flat stomach and the points of her wide hips, which altogether looked like a sight more magnificent than anything he could remember seeing in years, or perhaps ever. Just below that, the zipper on her trendy jeans was composed of wide oversized buttons, and he imagined undoing them all in one swift tug as she gasped.

Roy carried on, unconcerned, speaking almost scholarly.

“Just look at the invention that has changed the world most dramatically in modern times. The internet. One needs to look no further than that for the great and unassailable evidence to the truth. By its very nature, Joe, it is free from any gatekeepers. Unfiltered and unmoderated, it is a pure reflection of humanity.”

The hostess stopped right in front of Joe who never moved from his barstool while watching her approach.

“Even so-called reputable websites have advertisements on them with large-breasted women as the only means to sustain themselves.”

“Are you done, Roy?” Joe asked blankly, never looking away from her.

Roy finally noticed the hostess standing behind them. “Hi,” he said, looking back at her questioningly. She was close enough now to see the nametag she wore. Heidi—her name was Heidi.

“Hi… can I help you?” Joe asked, recognizing the strangeness of his question. Normally the service staff would ask him that.

“Yes,” she answered.

Joe cursed silently to himself. Her voice was just as perfect as he’d imagined.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” she said.

“What is it?” Joe asked. His grip tightened on his beer bottle.

Heidi knelt forward to whisper into his ear. Her long hair tickled his face and his body as his heart fluttered. Her voice was soft, and at a volume only he could hear.

“I don’t know you, and I know this sounds crazy, but…

“But what?” Joe whispered back to her, almost bracing himself.

“…I want you to come on me.”

Joe stood up so quickly that his beer bottle toppled over on the bar. It was all but empty and it spun around on the wooden surface.

“I’m getting out of here,” he said to Roy, while tossing a ten dollar bill on the bar. Then he walked off, in a straight line out of the barroom, taking care not to even glance at her. It was like she was some kind of sex-medusa and he had to avoid eye contact with her altogether, lest he succumb. Still, he could sense her in his peripheral vision as he’d passed by. He knew she stared at him as he departed, her head cocked, her arms folded, her expression judging him—and in her eyes, he had failed. Despite everything, the thought burned him fiercely.

“Joe, wait,” Roy called out after him.

He was already on the sidewalk outside of the bar, on that same stretch of concrete where he often smoked cigarettes late at night. The day’s humidity was like walking into a different world and he instantly felt sweaty.

Roy chased after him, and then stood on the sidewalk behind him.

“I didn’t finish,” he said.

Joe backed away. “I don’t care,” he said, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Joe. The hostess back there. She doesn’t really want you. You’re manufacturing this.”

Joe stopped and looked carefully back at Roy. “You are truly insane,” he said.

“Whatever she whispered in your ear, that was a script. One that you gave her. Only you didn’t even know it.”

“Insane.”

“Look, I know you’re freaked out. But you’ve got to stay strong. You can’t give in to it.”

“Fuck you,” Joe said to Roy, his tone full of spite. “Don’t put this on me.”

“Listen, Joe, you stubborn fuck,” Roy barked, while stepping closer.

“What?”

“There are two girls in your life now. One is the girl whom you’ve already told me about. Your ex-girlfriend, who’s lost in time, or whatever you said.”

Joe looked at him with a glimmer of hope.

“You need to stop fucking around and go find her,” Roy declared.

“Yeah, I’m trying, dick,” Joe replied, crossly. “You make it sound so damn easy. Didn’t you hear me say she was lost in time? That seems like kind of an obstacle, Roy.”

“You can still find her, I’m telling you. I promise you, Joe. You can find her.”

“How?”

“Only you know that. The answer is within you.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard enough.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“I need to tell you about the other girl, too.”

“Fine,” Joe said with an impatient sigh. “Go ahead. Who is the other girl?”

“Well, she’s obviously kicking your ass, that much is clear.”

“Who is she?” Joe shot him a fierce scowl.

“It’s tough to say. She’s… ubiquitous.”

Joe sighed again. “English, please?”

“She’s all around. In part, she’s a manifestation of whatever perversions you have, you sick fuck.”

He thought once again about Danielle getting out of bed the other morning, slipping on her black lingerie, when he was voracious and hungover, his head spinning like a top, his body piqued like never before. All the while the hostesses softly-whispered words kept ringing in his head, in a constant loop. Altogether it was a mocking, maddening effect. He could indulge forever it seemed, but still he’d never be satisfied. He could never downshift. Joe thought that maybe he should have just jumped last night. It might be the only way.

“So what am I supposed to do?” he asked weakly.

“Stay away from her.”

“Why?”

“Because she isn’t real.”

Joe stood on the sidewalk, with his feet on solid ground, but it felt like he had entered a freefall. Yet again someone was suggesting to him that a woman in his life wasn’t actually real. He stared back at Roy, helplessly.

“Stay away from her,” Roy reiterated, his voice grave. “It’s just what they want, for you to give in and run off with her.”

“Who the fuck is they?” Joe asked.

“There’s like… a sect. You’ll find out soon enough.”

The dream weavers, Joe thought, as goosebumps rippled across his skin. Eddie Morrow had mentioned them. Eddie was one of them, surely. No wonder his old classmate had achieved such heights. The guy was a wizard, essentially, warping reality to his liking. That explained his wealth, his celebrity, his glamorous lifestyle…

Joe hated the thought that bit at him—that he could do the same thing. That he could also achieve such lofty heights. If he were bold enough, to embrace the power, to weave his dreams. He could be the Influencer, the Casanova, the Jet-setter… the Executive… he could sit at the end of every table.

Joe snapped out of it. “So, this sect,” he began. “You said they want me to give in and run off with her? With who, exactly? Danielle? It’s her, right?”

Roy sent back a blank stare. “Well, I don’t know who Danielle is, but yes, they want you to give in and run off with any one of your fantasies. It doesn’t matter which one. It could be a supermodel, it could be the girl next door, or it could be the hostess at that bar back there. But I’m guessing it’s this Danielle that’s most present? The one who leaves you the most weak in the knees?”

Joe nodded slowly, acceptingly.

“Then she’s the most dangerous one. Make no mistake, she’s recruiting you, essentially. Listen, Joe. The sect… they’ve been watching you all along. They’ve seen what you’ve been doing. They’re no doubt impressed. Animating her the way you have, customizing her to what you like, and to what you want. It’s put you on their radar. So now they want you to fully give into her. To embrace the fantasy. To wield it.”

“Why?” Joe scowled as he asked.

“It’s the next step. It’s like a training regimen. You’re turning dreams into reality—literally. Embracing that kind of power will make you become one of them. It’s your ticket in.”

Joe felt a trembling go all through him, and it even extended into the street beneath his feet, as though the pavement were shaking with another earthquake.

“But don’t get enamored,” Roy warned, as the shaking stopped. “Don’t fall in. Because it’s a way-one street. Once you step into that world… you can’t come back. Not ever again.”

Joe felt his skepticism arising, and he urged it along—a strong desire to firmly reject all of this, and just bounce back to some semblance of normal.

“How do I know that everything you’re saying isn’t just a giant load of shit?” he asked, spitefully.

“Well, let me ask you a question, Joe. This girl, Danielle. Did she ask you to come with her up to New York City recently? Seemingly out of the blue?”

Joe felt himself clam up. It felt like he’d been struck, almost physically.

“An invocation draws ever closer, Joe. It’s this weekend, as a matter of fact. It’s under the cover of a party, in Manhattan, and that’s where the sect is based. Her invitation—that’s their influence, injected into your playful little narrative. It was their programming. Because Manhattan is where they want you to arrive. That’s where you would seal the deal with Danielle, and make it official. You’d sign on the dotted line. Then you’ll become one of them. One of the sect.”

A part of that stuck out to Joe. “Seal the deal with Danielle?” he asked.

“Well… for lack of a better term.”

“I could think of a couple,” Joe mumbled mindlessly.

“I’m sure you could.”

Joe decided to play devil’s advocate, at least for a moment. “What’s so bad about all of this, exactly?” he asked. “The sect—it’s like a club of powerful people? So, are they bad guys, or what? I don’t understand.”

Roy spoke calmly. “The dreams you spin… they start as fantasies. But they become nightmares, eventually. Inevitably. No one can live in a fantasy forever, Joe. Humans can’t handle it. We’re not built for it. No one is. It’s not sustainable. It will become twisted. It will become hell—your own personal version of it. And it will extend onto the rest of the world. When it breaks… we all fall in. You’ll take everyone else down with you.”

“Is that so?” Joe asked, hearing the doubt arise in his voice again. It was crazy that he’d actually entertained these notions, but it had just gone way too far over the top. He wasn’t ready to believe any of it. There had to be some other explanation. Because this was fucking ludicrous.

“Everything will be unset,” Roy said, while pointing to the city all around them. “Everything will fall apart.” He looked at him gravely.

“You’re full of shit, Roy. This is all just a giant practical joke.”

Joe glanced at the outside wall of Capital Libations that was a dark tinted glass, and he imagined punching it with all of his might, so it would shatter in a storm of black shards.

Then, there was a sound like ice breaking on a frozen lake and he saw a crack appear on the dark glass, in the exact same spot he’d been looking. It looked like an invisible baseball had struck the glass—there was a web of cracks all around the impact, and it was growing. Joe felt his mouth go dry and the hairs on his arm stood upright.

“Look at you,” Roy piped. “Like a baby learning to crawl.”

“Her name is Jennifer, alright?” Joe said, forcing the words out of him, still very much aware of the fissures in the thick black glass that spread like a slow bolt of lightning.

“Yeah? Tell me about Jennifer.”

“She was my girlfriend in high school. The first girl I ever loved. Like, really loved. Maybe the only girl.”

Roy nodded, like he understood it all perfectly. “Good,” he said. “Then she’s perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“She can save you. She’s one of the few who can, maybe the only one. Now tell me where you think she is. Really.”

Joe shrugged. “She’s out there somewhere. Drifting, I’ve heard. She’s lost… and I feel like… she can’t find her way back.”

Roy nodded, again like he understood it all perfectly. “It’s because you need to save her too, Joe. You need to rescue her, from wherever she’s been waylaid.”

Joe shot back a look that was at first desperation, but it gradually changed into grim resolve.

“I know this is a lot to take in, Joe, and you may or may not believe any of it yet. But all that aside. All you really need to do now is focus on her. Find her. Save her. And she’ll save you.”

“But how? How? I only see her in my goddamn dreams.”

Roy shrugged. “Better get to bed, then.”

Joe looked back in stunned silence. He felt beads of sweat forming on his brow.

“Follow her. Find her,” Roy urged again.

“You must have some kind of clue, Roy. A suggestion. Please. Something real. I need help.”

“The Trickster,” Roy stated.

Joe felt himself sinking. “I knew this conversation would circle back around to that motherfucker,” he griped.

“Yeah, well, it’s time. Get in the game, Joe. Lay your fucking cards down.”

“Fine,” he said with a huff. “So what about the Trickster?”

“You have seen him, right?” Roy asked.

“Yes, I already said that. He looked just like you. Or some evil version of you.”

“And Jennifer…”

“Yeah?”

“When you saw her, in your dream, what did she tell you? More importantly, what did she give you?” Roy stared at him intently. As he spoke he formed his hands in the shape of a bowl, as though one fit to hold the mysterious glass ball.

With that, Joe turned and walked off silently into the staunch heat of the city, leaving it unsaid about how he’d already fucked that part all up.