Short Fiction

Pill of perfection

By Christian Mueth

Jonah’s face was flushed. A tension lapped at him. His bones throbbed. He wished there was some way to leave his skull.

He went to take a sip of his beer, only for it to pour all over his clothes.

“I can’t begin to describe all the ways that I’m an idiot,” Jonah said, trying to wipe the dribbles up with his sleeve. “Okay Larry?”

“Hey, just count your blessings,” Larry said. “You still have your girlfriend, right? You have a nice place. And hey, there’s always me.”

Jonah shook his head. “Yeah, here’s the thing: girlfriend dipped, and I’m way behind on rent. I’ll probably be evicted soon.”

Larry snickered, rocking his leather chair back and forth, face glowing in the light of the fireplace. A halo had been put around him.

“Woo boy, that’s a tough spot Jonah.”

“It’s not fair! Why does everything—.”

Jonah was interrupted as the backing to his chair flung backward. Irritation itching at him, he fought to pull the mechanism back in place.

“You’ve just gotta calm down,” Larry said, swiping his locks of red hair from his eyes. “Everybody always said that I was the idiot between us and look at where I am now!”

A snide smile made its way across Jonah’s face. He scoffed. There was a time when people thought that Jonah had more potential than Larry. Though, that was when they were both twelve. Puberty flipped the conversation ever after. Larry was royalty in high school. He was a king in college. From there, everything always went his way.

Ten years had come and gone, since they’d been in the same dorm. Jonah’s tether was wearing out. Larry hadn’t aged a day.

Larry launched his phone ten feet into the air, while Jonah winced. The phone didn’t come close to touching Larry’s living room’s ceiling, before falling back into Larry’s grasp.

“You lost a job opportunity...” Larry said rolling the phone in his hand. It was the latest model. “So what? More will come your way.”

Jonah shook his head. “You just don’t understand. This job was key for me. I had worked for months to get my foot in the door. And then… They just drop me, for somebody else.”

“You get good gigs all the time. You’ll get more. You’re a great musician, Jonah.”

The words went through Jonah’s ears, but he didn’t hear them. He didn’t want to. “Great musician.” Larry hadn’t bothered hiring Jonah for any of his business events or parties, let alone his upcoming wedding.

Worse, maybe Larry was justified in that. Generally, Jonah’s gigs weren’t more than playing at a kid’s birthday party. It was possible that he sucked, much as he didn’t want to believe it.

He pursed his lips and studied his bottle of beer. His fingerprints along it were grotesque, under the firelight.

“You thought about becoming a music teacher?” Larry asked. “I think the school is looking for a new one.”

“Those who can’t do teach. I went through all those years trying to leave education system, and you think I should just plop right back in?” Jonah raised his hands over his head. “Besides, I’m supposed to be an artist, Larry. I’m not like you — I can’t stuff myself in a suit every day, take a paycheck, and live with myself. I need to stay true to who I am.”

Larry shrugged his shoulders and gave his phone another flip. “Being successful and making money feels good to me. But hey, to each their own.”

The swipe stung. Larry had been part of a band with Jonah, an eon ago. It was a pitiful band, that didn’t survive their teens. Yet, for a short time, Larry believed in Jonah. They’d thought they’d wind up rocking the world together.

Larry chuckled to himself and took a swig of his beer. He had a fifty-watt smile. How could somebody have so much achievement, for so little effort?

Jonah thought back to all the nights spent in his room, tirelessly working at his piano, and modulating his sound via his computer. Every note of his compositions were crafted and performed to precision. Not an iota was left to random chance. That is, except the compositions’ success. If reality were in his favor, he could’ve seen fame and fortune too. It was just an unlucky roll of the die. It had to be.

“Larry, have you ever wondered why everything always goes this way for us?” Jonah asked.

Larry gave Jonah a glare. “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything.”

Jonah’s nostrils flared. That was it. His bottle of beer fell from his hand, shattering on Larry’s marble floor.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I spend months trying to get land a job interview and get rejected after days of preparation— you walk into your interviews ten minutes late and underdressed, but still schmooze your way to the position.” Jonah chuckled, but his chest brimmed with hate. “I spend weeks pining after a girl, who you wind up taking out after a minute’s talk. I spend a week writing a research paper — you punch it out the night before, and wind up with the better grade. I spend years working on my useless degree, only for you to drop out and become ridiculously more successful. Now here you are, with a killer job, all the friends in the world, and an upcoming wedding.”

“What can I say?” Larry said, hooding his eyes beneath his hair. “I’m good at gaming opportunity, and markets.”

“No kidding. Even compared to Buffett, your list of successes is a buffet. Buffett, Larry. And to think, back in high school people thought I was the numbers guy… Can’t count on anything, can I?”

Larry put a hand over his eyes and let out a groan. “I have initiative, Jonah. That’s a big part of the difference between us. Things get hard, and… You’re down for the count.”

Jonah stood from his chair and grabbed his coat. “And since when was anything hard for you? Huh? When was the last time that you had to scrape and claw for something?”

Jonah made his way for the door, only to slip on the spilled beer he’d left on the floor. He landed on his back with a heavy thud.

“Jonah, you alright?”

Larry bounded from his chair and helped Jonah back up from the ground.

“Thanks,” Jonah said, weakly.

Nervous ruptures went up and down his back. He rubbed the tender spot where he’d landed. No doubt, it would be bruised there in the morning.

Larry gave Jonah a pat on the shoulder, before grasping tight and holding there.

“I have to level with you about something, Jonah… But you’re not going to like it.”

Jonah looked into Larry’s eyes. There was a guilt there. Yet, for what, Jonah couldn’t tell. Half of him was overjoyed Larry might’ve been seeing his side of things. The other half was infuriated that Larry wasn’t giving him the usual pep talk.

Larry’s hand went into his pocket. There was a rattle. He pulled out a bottle of pills.

“These pills…” Larry said. “They’re the reason why I’m where I am.”

Jonah’s anger faded. “You’ve been taking antidepressants?”

Eyes widening, Jonah offered Larry a pat on the shoulder. Larry pushed it away.

Bringing his hands to his chest, he burst into laughter. “Oh, god no.”

Jonah’s mind and sympathies hit a wall. “What then? Some type of drug? Are you addicted to those things?”

Larry shook his head. “Jonah, these aren’t normal pills.”

He popped the cap and handed one to Jonah. It was a clear gel pill. Utterly mundane. Jonah squinted, and drew it closer. At the center of the pill, a rainbow glinted.

“Are they sugar pills then?” Jonah asked.

“They’re perfect pills.”

“Okay, but what do they do?”

“That’s what they do, Jonah. They make your life perfect. Not a single flaw, for an entire day.”

Insanity? A prank? Or, was it true? It couldn’t be.

Jonah snorted. “You’re telling me that all this good fortune you’ve attained is because of a pill?”

Rolling his eyes, Larry pocketed the pills. He took a step back. “You don’t believe me.”

“I believe that those pills are doing something to you, Larry. But, not what you think.”

Larry paced around the room, running his fingers along his walls. Every few seconds, his fingers would run over a trophy or token that Larry had collected over the years. Each one was from something frivolous Larry had done; donating to charity, winning the championship, getting the business contract signed. Could it all have really been done by one man?

“You wanted to know the difference between you and me,” Larry said. “This is it. Every morning, you work your ass off. Day in and day out, until your brain is about to pop. Me? I just pop this pill…”

A glint of light shot from the pill and into Jonah’s eye. He looked down and gawked. It were as though it had been prodding at him. Begging him to swallow it.

“I know this’ll make me sound like a prick, but I’m tired of them,” Larry said. “Tired of hiding them, anyway. The medals around one’s neck feel good, for a time. But now? I feel guilty, Jonah. I’ve never shared them with anyone. I’m disgusting. I’m perfect, but I’m disgusting.”

Larry’s fingers leapt from the wall and pulled down on the skin beneath his cheekbones. He’d always had such angelic features. For a fleeting glimpse though, Jonah could see the age lines mapping their way throughout his face. There were chinks in the armor.

“How’d you get these?” Jonah asked. It took all his will to keep from putting the pill in his mouth.

“See, that’s the part nobody ever wants to believe. One morning, I’d had a bad day… I cried out that I wanted my life to be better — I wished that everything would start to go right, just for once. Perfection, for just one day.” He smirked to himself. “Just one of those dumb things you say, right? But then, I woke up… And the pills were by my bed. Unbelievable. Ever since? The bottle is always full, every morning. And things always go perfect throughout my day, so long as I take one.”

“I believe it.”

Jonah laughed, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Then take them,” Larry said. His eyes were wild. He whipped the pills out of the pocket and brought them to Jonah’s face. “Take them, and don’t bring them back. They should be yours.”

“These better not be some sort of heroin,” Jonah said, inspecting them.

“They’re better. They’re a dream. Every great dream you’ve ever had, rolled into one. If you want to say no to perfection, that’s fine. But you’re always going to wonder what would have happened if you’d tried to have it.”

“And what about you? Why are you giving this to me?”

Larry turned his back and stumbled toward the stairway. Jonah told himself Larry was just drunk, but it looked as if he was fighting some magnetic force.

“I’ve had perfection handed to me, for years,” Larry slurred. “I don’t want to live another day without knowing how I’d do without it.”

Larry was nuts. He had to be. Nonetheless, Jonah popped a pill, pocketed the bottle, and told Larry good night. He headed home.

His car sounded like garbage, like usual. Though, the ride — for once, that was okay.

. . .

“You know, the other day I really thought this music sounded like shit…”

Marcus Rex gave a hearty laugh and adjusted his jacket. It was a hot red and tailored to fit Rex’s trim body. Jonah had seen several producers in similar garb. Was there a store that they all shopped at?

“You told me that it had potential though,” Jonah said, giving back the laugh.

He leaned on Rex’s couch and took in a deep breath. The room smelled of lavender; Jonah’s favorite scent.

“We just tell everybody that so that they never feel bad,” said Rex, with a wink.

A small ping went at Jonah’s chest. However, Rex already whipped his pen across a contract, into the form of his signature. Jonah tried glimpsing the contract’s details from over the knickknacks on Rex’s desk, to no avail.

“There’s no way you’ll say no,” Rex said, grinning to himself. “This is the thrill ride of contracts. You won’t see it get higher than this.”

Rex had said the same thing on the phone, while Jonah was having breakfast. It was the only reason that Jonah had dropped his waffles right then and driven over to Rex’s office complex. Well, perhaps not the only reason. That morning had gone well. Almost impossibly well.

When he rolled out of bed, his hair was perfectly combed, without a single strand out of place. He went to put his socks on, and they slipped on with ease. There hadn’t been any lint to pick off on his shirt. His toothpaste came right out of the bottle, without any effort. The water in his shower was at a perfect temperature, with no adjustment needed. There wasn’t a bit of grogginess in his head, or puffiness in his face.

His coffee tasted like heaven. His waffles? Like the heaven that comes after heaven. There was a heaven after heaven, right?

It was when Jonah opened his email on his phone, to find a flood of new job offers, that Rex’s phone call came in. Rex’s demand for an immediate meeting was impossible to refuse.

That was fifteen minutes ago. Jonah hadn’t wasted a breath getting into Rex’s office, and Rex hadn’t wasted a breath getting things in place.

Rex cleared his throat. “I can’t believe this is happening!” he said.

Jonah raised an eyebrow. The words sounded odd, not coming from his mouth. “What do you mean?”

“A talent like you? You’re a one in a million thing, man. That music you made… Just dynamite!”

Adrenaline zapped through Jonah’s body, making his body tingle and his pupils dilate. Rex’s words were refreshing, after endlessly having producers tell him he was a moron. He hadn’t felt this way before. Ever. Yet, he could get used to it.

“Here you go, Rockstar,” Rex said.

Jonah looked down at the contract. It was a deal for an entire album of his music. Three hundred thousand dollars, over the course of a year, plus 20% royalties on sales. He’d also be going on a statewide tour, upon the album’s release.

Jonah flipped through the pages, reading the legal minutiae. Normally, he would’ve been utterly lost. Yet, there was a newfound sense of clarity as Jonah read through it. The terms were hilariously simple; he’d be idiotic to pass the offer up.

Nonetheless, Jonah said, “I’ll need my agent to look this over. I don’t feel comfortable signing this just yet.”

Rex nodded, understandingly. “Of course, take your time. I slapped this all together in a frenzy last night, so there might be a mistake in there or two.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “Just, don’t take too long: we don’t want anybody else snatching you up. Actually…”

Rex looked over his shoulder, as though someone were watching him. Then he pulled a check out of his pocket and wrote a number that was followed by several zeroes. He handed it over.

“Also, here: take some lunch money. On me. Just an incentive.”

“Seriously?” Jonah said, incredulously.

Rex’s brow furrowed in concern. “Sorry. Is it not enough?”

Jonah pocketed the contract and check, trying to maintain composure.

“It — it’s plenty good,” Jonah said.

He burst out of the office and into the hallway, whooping like mad. Strangely, he received no odd looks. After a few minutes, everybody in the office had joined in. A few people pulled confetti cannons from their drawers, leaving Jonah a walking pinata.

Arriving at the elevator, the door opened as clockwork. A man strode out, giving a whoop.

“I don’t know why I’m cheering, but it feels good!” the man said. He gave another whoop and went on his way.

In the lobby, the secretary gave him an excited wave goodbye. “Would you like a mint?” she asked.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

A whole bowl was shoved into his arms.

“Here, just take all of them. Take the whole thing!”

Her face leaned into his, and a radiant smile moved between them. Jonah could’ve kissed her. He shoveled a handful of mints into his mouth instead, taking the bowl with him. Who could say no to free mints?

He stepped out into the parking lot and went to his car. It was parked right at the front of the lot, in the perfect spot. With a chuckle, he pressed the unlock button. The car gave a crisp beep.

There was a honk.

“Hey, you!” somebody said.

Jonah turned to see a man jumping out of a bright red sports car, keys in hand.

“Do you want to trade cars?” the man said.

Jonah’s mouth hung agape.

“I’d — I’d like a lot of things,” Jonah said. “But, everything has a cost, am I right? Now, I’ll just be on my way…”

The man stood in Jonah’s way. “No really, you can have it,” he said. He showed Jonah his keys.

Jonah grabbed the keys. He looked at the car. It was dazzling in the daylight, not a single flaw on it.

A smirk formed on Jonah’s face.

The wind rushed through Jonah’s hair, as the sports car’s engine roared down the highway. He was singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs. Every element of the atmosphere held concert in that moment, to give Jonah adulation. A breeze lapped at Jonah’s skin, the sun danced in his eyes, the car seat gave a massage. His mind filled with a clarity, as possibility shot through it.

He could go anywhere. He could do anything. The notes to his next composition were already forming in his head. No — he would write a whole album of compositions. It would be brilliant. Gorgeous. Nothing like it had ever been thought of before, let alone heard.

Reality was a mountain. Somehow, he’d found his summit. Nothing was ever going to bring him down.

Jonah’s phone rang, and he brought it to his ear.

“Jonah?”

It was his ex-girlfriend, Marcy.

“I want you back,” she said, in a rushed breath. “I miss you. I really miss you.”

Jonah laughed, and let the phone fall out of his hand.

“Jonah? Jonah?” she asked.

All she could hear was a growing roar.

. . .

“Have you checked the premises for any crazed fans?” Jonah asked.

Jonah’s security guard gave a laugh.

“You have some of the most well-behaved fans I’ve ever seen, Jonah,” he said, adjusting his shades. “Honestly, I often wonder whether you even needed to hire me.”

“I don’t need a lot of things,” Jonah said. “But then… If you have the resources for something, you might as well throw them at it. And, resources are not exactly a problem for me.”

The security guard gave another laugh. Jonah simply leaned back behind his desk and absorbed the room. He was in a retro music store. The ceiling was aglow with neon lights, and posters of random artists were scattered throughout. He smiled. An airbrushed photo of his face was bound to join them.

“This is going to be a smashing success,” Rex said. He put a hand on his shoulder.

“Agreed.” It was the husky voice of another man — Spud. “I mean, there hasn’t been a collection of compositions like this in decades. Honestly, you’re giving Beethoven a run for his money.”

Spud and he became best buds, as of a day ago. Rex had introduced them.

“Tell me the story of how you put it together, again?” Rex asked.

He’d shoved Spud away to flash his signature smile.

Jonah shrugged. “One night, it just flowed out of me. My brain just lasered in, and… Yeah.”

“Lasered in… Brilliant!” Rex shouted. “That quote is platinum. We need to print it out and slap it under your logo.”

Rex kept talking after that, but his voice faded out. He was a phantom. The whole room was a dreamlike place. It’d been a month since the day Jonah began taking the pills. Observing the people surrounding him, he realized he was in a whole new world. How had so little time done so much? Was it that everything was moving hyper fast, or had he just taken the rest of his life hyper slow?

“Do you guys think I have a chance among the greats?” Jonah asked.

There was a round of head nods and reassuring praise. Basking in it, Jonah looked back to all the artists. None of them had hit the record highs he had, in their first months. Something special had to be in him — he was something unlike what anybody else had done.

The world changed, for the better. After a lifetime of being dunked on, Jonah’s mark was being made.

“Send them in,” Jonah said.

His security guards opened the door, releasing a stream of people. By the dozens, Jonah signed albums, shook hands, and told stories. He’d never felt a bliss quite like it. People saw him. More bogglingly, they wanted to. Their eyes were wide, as they hung onto his every word.

“Your work saved me,” one of his fans said, clutching his album tight to their chest.

Along with this statement came rounds of people announcing his fame, genius, and purity. If only his old roommates could see him now. That, and all the people who he’d grown up with. God, the look on their faces would’ve been priceless.

A haggard man with a scraggly beard came to Jonah’s desk. Jonah crinkled his nose — the man stank of beer and fish.

“Jonah, it’s me, Larry.”

Jonah’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah! I remember you.” He twirled his pen on the desk. “Do you have anything for me to sign, or anything?”

Larry forced a grin. There was desperation beneath his eyes. Jonah squinted. There was also a chunk of bread tangled beneath Larry’s beard.

“I just wanted to chat with an old pal,” Larry said. “Talk about how things are going.”

He patted Jonah on the back.

“Aww, that’s nice,” said Jonah. “Also, did you wash your hands before coming here?”

Larry rubbed his hands on a pant leg, then nodded. “So, I heard you made a new album.”

Jonah turned his head to both sides of the room, then shrugged. “Yep. Just announced today. I also sold an album, a month back. It was a bit of a hit.”

“So I heard! Yeah, you’re everywhere right now!”

“And how’s your life going?”

Larry bit his lip, then placed his hand on the table. The muscles along his hand tightened.

“It’s going,” he said. “Is there any way that we can talk privately? Out of here?”

“No. In fact, I’m going to leave you with thirty more seconds. I have a line here, and we need to keep it going.”

“Jonah, we’re friends, remember? Can’t you just invite me over to your house, or something? Think about all the times that I helped you out, over the years. Did I ever give up on you?”

The words cut deep, but Jonah’s mind went back to the pills. That thought cut deeper. There was a chance that Larry was plotting to take the pills back. After years of not having them, hadn’t Jonah earned the right to his pills? Wasn’t it his turn, now?

“Look, life is going terrible, Jonah,” said Larry. “I lost my job. All my assets dried up. I had to sell all my stock, to try paying off my debt — but, I still wound up going bankrupt. My wedding was also a disaster…”

“Oh yeah… Your wedding! Sorry that I didn’t attend. Had a recording scheduled that I couldn’t miss.”

Larry’s eyes turned sharp and his lips trembled, as though he were a wounded dog.

“We wound up breaking it off,” Larry said, suppressing a choke. “I have a proposition, and you’re going to hate it, okay? But what if we give me a pill every morning? There are tons of extra pills in that bottle, each morning. It wouldn’t hurt to help, would it?”

Jonah winced. “Big problem there: what if it stops replenishing, and I start to run out? You’ve only ever taken out one pill a day, correct? Same with me. No point in risking what works. Hard to fight with perfection, am I right?”

Larry’s eyes darting around the room, he wiped his brow. He was a rat in a trap, searching for a way out.

“Maybe we could alternate? You give me the pills one day, and I give them back the next…”

Jonah raised his head, tilting his chin to the ceiling. “No, that doesn’t work.” He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Thanks for coming. You’re awesome! Believe in yourself, and make sure to check out my new album when it releases.”

A series of swoons swept the crowd. Amid the showering, Jonah stood to bow and gave a wave.

“Come on, Jonah,” Larry begged, putting his hand near Jonah’s. Jonah pulled his hand away. “I just need one more day of good fortune. I gave you the world. The least you can do is share it.”

“I spent years scraping and clawing for a chance at luck in life,” Jonah said, as much to the crowd as to Larry. “Years. And look at me now! I have the world! There’s nothing I could trade this away for.”

Larry shook his head. “You put on your little outfit and wear a smile deeper than your pockets. Perfection sounds great. But, to live a life where you never do a bad thing, and a bad thing never happens… That doesn’t make you a perfect person, does it? You just have perfect circumstances.”

What Larry was saying didn’t make any sense. He should’ve been praising Jonah, and admiring his genius, like everybody else. That’s what the pill did to people, didn’t it? What made Larry so different?

Jonah’s voice lowered back to a whisper. “I need you to leave.”

Larry backed away, giving cautious looks to the security guards on each side of him. “Your life is perfect. But what about for those around you? What use is it to be perfect…? Unmarred…?” Larry snorted. “What mark is something unmarred supposed to leave? Perfect lives aren’t real. In any case, they’re not meant to be. We’re human. Living in a world that that is unreal is unrealistic. Toxic.”

“What did you come here to ask me for, again?”

“Help, from a friend.”

Larry opened the door to leave the building. Yet, when he looked up to Jonah, Jonah stretched and checked his watch. An aura of auspiciousness returned to him. He had already signed the albums of three more fans.

. . .

Jonah’s fingers raced along the piano keys, hitting each note impeccably. Sounds lilted at his ear and reverberated throughout the auditorium. It were as though the only sounds in the universe were his fingers along the keys, and the music they made.

He turned to look out at the crowd. It sparkled under stage light and swayed in tune with the stroke of each key. A wave of peace washed over Jonah’s body, as he was transported to another plane. It were as though some force had taken over him. It wasn’t him who was playing, but something inspired.

His fingers moved ever faster as the notes hit a crescendo. The composition hit its most powerful note, and he finally came to a stop. Applause erupted. His masterwork was complete. Though, there wasn’t an ounce of sweat on him. His muscles were as spry as they’d been at the start. He could’ve gone on forever if he’d wanted.

“Encore, encore!” the audience shouted.

Jonah stood from his piano and gave the bow he’d given a hundred times. The crowd’s excitement ballooned.

“Keep going,” Rex said, through a speaker in Jonah’s ear. “You haven’t even gotten through half the track, yet. Plus, they’re loving you.”

Jonah didn’t want to go on. The crowd was screaming for his music, but they weren’t screaming for him. Not really.

He gave a random thrust of his hand onto the piano, and a brilliant series of notes came out. There was a round of cheers. Yet, the notes had all been accidental. They hadn’t been his.

Jonah attempted to play a series of ugly notes. As he did, the muscles in his hand spasmed, and his fingers landed on different keys than he’d intended. Once again, something brilliant resulted. It felt dull though.

Jonah thought back to his composition. Had it really been his composition? The sounds in his new music didn’t carry any of his signature. His musical abilities had exceeded anything that he’d used to be able to achieve before the pill. It was invigorating to hear sounds that were so divine. However, at the core of it, was the music his to claim?

A din formed in his heart. The sounds he was praised for playing couldn’t be his.

“Give us more!” the crowd shouted. “We love you!”

“Well, screw you,” Jonah wanted to say. It was the sort of thing he would’ve been able to say, only a month ago. However, those words never left his mouth. Instead he said, “I love you too.”

It sounded like he meant it. The words weren’t from him.

He turned from the crowd and made his way backstage.

“It’ll be a moment, people,” he said. “When I come back, prepare to have your minds blown.”

He had no intention of coming back out. He was done for the night. He’d accomplished so much in the past few weeks — constant concerts and signings. Achievement and admiration became intimate friends. Perhaps too intimate.

At the beginning of his tour, every performance came with exhilaration, and a rush of adrenaline greater than the last. To some extent, that still held true. However, there was a writhing creature growing inside Jonah. It wriggled about, trying to break free. The constant success didn’t feel right. It wasn’t him.

He’d lived his whole life as a failure. It was fundamental. That could never really change, could it?

Jonah put his face into a bowl of ice, to cool his head. It was soothing. It was too soothing. Irritation rising, he tried wiping his face on a nearby towel. The towel was soft, to an unnerving extent.

Worse, as Jonah’s frustrations rose, he could feel no physical manifestations of them. His heartrate remained steady, his body temperature kept the same, and his body maintained its posture. He fought for a burst of aggression, but this desire was tied town. His emotions were captive, unallowed to escape.

“Great job out there, Jonah,” said Rex, giving Jonah a slap on the back. “Your music is incredibly moving. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. Tears! Can you believe it?”

Jonah nodded. When had been the last time he’d been able to cry? Was he still able to cry? Grinning, he studied Rex’s outfit. It was the same fiery red, as always. Jonah wanted to ask Rex why he wore it so much but stopped himself when he remembered he was wearing the same thing.

“Rex, I think I’m going to call it a night,” said Jonah.

Rex checked his gold watch, then shrugged. “Sounds good to me. It’s been a long night anyway, and you’ve done plenty. The crowd should already be satisfied with what they’ve gotten.”

“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to encourage me to keep going? People paid good money to get tickets and come here.”

Rex laughed. “Very funny joke. Yeah, if you want to keep going, by all means! You’re on the top of your game, and the night is still young.”

“I thought you’d just said it’s been a long night…”

“The night is always long, and it’s always young. Do whatever you feel is right. You can do no wrong.”

“Maybe I don’t know what’s right.”

“Then, do nothing. That’s just as fine as anything else. You certainly can’t screw up doing nothing, am I right?”

He gave Jonah a playful ribbing, then put on his shades.

“Rex,” Jonah said. “Do you ever feel like a fraud?”

Rex did a heel turn, then readjusted the cuffs to his thousand-dollar suit. “Of course. I’m a complete poser. But hey: fake it till you make it, right?”

“Yeah, sure… But, is it worth being fake once you’ve made it?”

“If it’s worth it, then of course it’s worth it. And if it’s not, at least you’ll have a good time.”

“I’m a fraud, Rex.”

Rex’s eyes were saucers. His mouth twisted, and his cheeks puffed out. Finally, a laugh escaped as leaking gas.

“You? You’re a modern Mozart, Jonah. There’s nobody like you.”

“That’s because I’m not me. You don’t get it… Everything I’ve done? Everything you see and hear? It’s an act. It’s the product of something else. Someone else.”

“All creativity is derivative of something. That doesn’t mean you’re not a wunderkind.”

A small crowd had formed around them. Everybody was looking at Jonah in a bewildered awe. They thought he was being humble. Jonah wanted to puke.

“If you had the power to change the world, in whatever way you saw fit…” Jonah said, measuring his words carefully. “To make life match your dream life… How would you use it?”

Rex snickered. “I mean, look around you. We’re rolling in success, man. I think I’m already in a dream.”

“No, really. If you could do anything. If you just used that ability to better yourself, and only yourself, would that be wrong? Or, would you be obligated to give yourself to the world?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? Sharing your gifts with the world? Think of all the people you’ve changed, in this short span of time.”

Jonah had to smile. Nonetheless, his head flashed with images of countless people he could’ve helped. Nothing was stopping him from trying to cure disease, end hunger, or create world peace. If he tried, it would’ve worked. He hadn’t. He wasn’t going to either. The mere thought of an attempt was daunting.

“I want to call it a night. I’m sleepy.” In truth, Jonah hadn’t felt sleepy in weeks. “Can you take me to where Larry is?”

“Larry who? There are a lot of them.”

“Take a lucky guess. I get the feeling you’ll be able to figure out which one.”

. . .

A cloud of dust permeated the air. The ceiling fan croaked as it wobbled into a spin. The lights buzzed, threatening to short out.

Jonah took in a deep breath. Somehow, the air seemed just as clear as it would have been outdoors. If only the same could have been said for his mind.

“Had a change of heart?” Larry asked.

He was sitting in a beanbag, by his apartment’s radiator.

“Larry, I don’t think I know what I had,” Jonah said. “All I know is this: so long as you know I have these pills, my life is torture.”

Jonah pulled the bottle out of his pocket and rattled it. The rainbow light was missing from the center of the pills, with them now being completely clear. Yet, the pills still winked at Jonah beneath the light, as though he’d just met them for the first time.

Larry twirled his phone in his hand. It had a ghastly crack along the screen. “You call living every day in intense bliss torture?”

“Come on, Larry. You know what I mean. You think I’m the worst, for not sharing these pills with you. And I — I really can’t stand the pain of it all, honestly. It’s eating at me.”

“So, what do you want?”

Jonah looked around. He shook his pills again. It’d been awhile since he’d taken one. However, there was no way for him to take one. Not during this.

“I want you to apologize,” said Jonah. “I want you to say that you understand what I’m doing.”

“You’re not going to change my mind.” A derisive chuckle left Larry’s lips. “Walk out on the street, and you won’t find a person who doesn’t adore you. But there’s me, one person — just one — who has a problem with what you’re doing, and you can’t even live with that?

A muscle of Jonah’s twitched. It was just a slight twitch, in a muscle along his left hand. He desperately wanted to switch the twitch into a full clench. He would ball his fingers into a fist and punch Larry in the face.

“It’s not fair,” said Jonah. “I’ve done nothing wrong, Larry! Nothing!”

“Doing nothing wrong doesn’t mean you’ve done anything right.”

“You had your chance to have chance be in your favor. When you gave me the pills, did you really think I was just going to waste them?”

“Doesn’t matter whether I did, you definitely have. All you’ve used them for is to make some popular music. Big deal.”

“It is a big deal! I’m the biggest thing going on in culture, right now!”

Larry walked to his minifridge and fished for a beer. “Last I checked, popular culture is trash… I can’t say I’ve seen an exception.”

He studied Jonah’s face, waiting for a reaction.

“You don’t think my music is flawless?” Jonah said, incredulously. He began pacing in a circle. “It’s calculated to be so. It’s an equal amount of chaos, and order. It’s both fluid, and solid. It’s classical, but modern.”

“It’s rubbish. But, why does it matter what I think? We’ve known each other for years Jonah and gone our separate ways. You’re more wildly successful than I even was, with those pills. Are you really going to live your life pining after what one person thinks?”

The cap shot from Larry’s beer, and past Jonah’s face. Foam bubbled over from the top of the bottle. Larry took a long sip and smacked his lips. Jonah grimaced.

“Perfection can’t be perfection if the world isn’t in complete and utter agreement about it,” Jonah said, his voice turning to a rasp. “Don’t you get it? So long as you hate me, I’m not there yet. My life can’t be perfect!”

Larry’s eyes narrowed. “I never said I hated you, Jonah. I just hate your music.”

Jonah kicked at the wall, leaving a dent in the flimsy plaster. The pill was wearing off, but Jonah didn’t care.

“How did you get these pills?” Jonah shouted.

The lights flickered off for a moment, a shadow creeping over Larry’s face. “I already told you the truth.”

“How did you get them? These things are a curse!”

Larry stared at Jonah, his face granite and unrelenting. Jonah punched at the air in a fit of rage, then collapsed on the floor. He shouted, until the floorboards creaked.

Somehow, there was more relief in his fury than a month of everything going right.

“I spend each day waiting for the hammer to drop,” Jonah said, through sobs. “Everything is perfect, but it’s too perfect… Something is supposed to give, and it never does. And I want to help others, but I’m too afraid to. If I were to share my luck, what if that means I push my luck into losing it all? In trying to solve all the world’s problems, I might create my own undoing.”

“Have you ever tried though?” Larry said, a mix of pity and judgement on his face.

“I’m not going to be a savior,” said Jonah. “It’s a trap. It always ends in death. Always. And, I’ve thought hard about what happens if I die… I don’t want to. Suppose these pills kill me, for example — it’s terrifying. Do I go to hell, after what I’ve done? Worse… Would I go to heaven, and live eternity as a fraud?”

“The pills won’t kill you. I’m not even sure if you can die, taking them.”

“But what if I still do?” asked Jonah. “You’ve lived with these pills — don’t pretend these thoughts don’t come to your head. When there are no problems, the mind creates them somehow. Otherwise, the world is just so… Vapid.”

Layers of dust had settled on Jonah. His head ached. There was a scratching at his mind, begging him to take a pill.

“Then give them to me,” Larry said. “Look at you. I thought the pills would benefit you more than anyone, but clearly not. You have every reason to be happy. But you’re worse than you were before any of this. I know that this might not seem right, but… Maybe people are meant to experience hardship. Maybe they’re meant to suffer.”

Waving the pills in Larry’s face, Jonah snarled. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’m sure you’re just desperate to have these back — to have the success you used to have.”

Larry’s face went red, and he shrugged. “Hey, it’s just a suggestion.”

“Just a suggestion… Just a suggestion! I’ve lived my whole life trying to meet suggestions.”

A rush pounded through Jonah’s skull. Jonah ran toward the sink and dumped his pills down the drain. He flipped the switch to the disposal and listened to the crunch of the pills being ground into powder. As Jonah turned it off, the sink belched.

There was a gulp.

Larry’s face was aghast. “What did you just…”

He paused. He took a sip of beer. Then, he slapped his knees, and let out a laugh.

“You actually did it!” he said. “I have to be honest Jonah… Before now, I never thought you had it in you to destroy those things. I definitely never would’ve been able to do it myself.”

Jonah stared down the disposal. Larry was at his side. Yet, somehow, Jonah was emptier inside than ever.

“Yeah,” Jonah said, keeping his eyes to the ground. “I definitely did it.”

Larry outstretched his hand. “It’s going to be rough. But, trust me: everybody is going to be better for this. What you’ve done… It’s just incredible. Now, hopefully you can keep all that success you have.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jonah. He took Larry’s hand and gave a firm handshake. “I think I’ll figure it out. I always figure some way out of things.”

Larry snickered. “That you do. That you do. Also… I just want to say, I’m sorry about what I said about your music. I really do like it.”

“I’m sorry too.”

Their eyes locked. There was a connection. An unspoken trade of trust. In that moment, Jonah knew he had Larry. They were on solid terms again.

“Goodnight!” said Jonah.

Larry opened his mouth to say something, but Jonah had already made his way to the door. Jonah took care to close it softly behind him.

He hopped into his car, peeling down the highway and into the night.

There was a rattling in Jonah’s cupholder. Reaching in, he pulled out a bottle of pills.

At the center of each one, there was the familiar glint of a rainbow.

“Just where I left you,” he said. “Finally, the real deal.”

He popped a pill in his mouth. Then, he laughed.

End