1 The New Messiah

"What did you call yourself again?" I could feel the vodka burning its way down my throat but the sensation wasn't enough to mess with my hearing.  The man in front of me chuckled and sipped his beer like it was diet coke. I did not know this guy but I was too self-absorbed to care. He just sat down by my table without asking for permission as if he was a long time buddy. He introduced himself but I wasn't interested enough to listen. He did not even belong to my crowd. Long hair. Three nose rings. Tongue piercing. Inverted cross tattoo on the forehead. Torn blue jeans. Shirt that says, "F*ck You!"

Young women from the next table kept looking at him and giggling as if he was the most good-looking man in the bar. I felt so betrayed. I am an architect. Decent, well-groomed, formal, pleasing to the eyes. Yet, there was this guy who did not care enough to put on deodorant but was still attractive to girls while my pathetic self couldn't even keep the love of my life from leaving. My pathetic drunk self couldn't even have himself promoted despite being in the goddamn company for ten years. My pathetic drunk heartbroken self couldn't even save enough to start a family with Erin. My dearest Erin... I missed her so much. Life's not fair. Earlier I had wanted to jump from our office tower but instead of having my insides spill out on the pavement, I am burning them now with alcohol and drowning myself in an ear-splitting scream disguising itself as music.

The man hummed as if there's enough lyrics to that ugly song.

"I am the new Messiah" he replied to me when the song had ended.

"Oh I know who you are. You're the lead vocalist of that famous band." If I had a teenage sibling I might have asked him to sign my tie. It's not everyday that you meet someone famous much less share a table with him until you get wasted. Thank God I don't have any sibling and thank God I don't need to act pleasant today. "Your music sucks."

"Thank you!"

His smile looked genuine though I would like to think he was being sarcastic. I felt a little guilty. I was never an asshole by the way.

"That's the name of your band, The New Messiah. You're Emmanuel Kahn."

"Got that right brodah! Just call me E-man."

"What are you doing in this cheap bar Mr. Kahn?" I refused to address him in that stupid name that sounds like email.

"Just looking around. Checking out on suicidal folks determined enough to try jumping off the highest building in this metropolis."

I felt my cheeks heat up. Did he saw me struggling to climb over the railing and back down the last minute? "That's none of your business He-Man. People can do whatever they want with their lives."

"Oh but it is. I was born to save people."

I rolled my eyes. Somebody seemed to be on a cocaine diet. "Save yourself some time by minding your own life."

"I wish I could but my Father would take away my music if I don't do my job."

Now this is a good scoop. The charismatic Emmanuel Kahn had father issues. At least we had a common ground. "I don't care what your father will do. You are a grown man. You should not let yourself be dictated by anyone."

"You think so? That's a good advice brodah. Then I would just let Him punish the world for worshipping smartphones and the internet."

He stood up feeling obviously elated and shouted to the bartender. "This guy's drinks are on me, Jimmy. Just charged it to my plastic."

Then he turned to me and said, "Hey, thirty days from now the seas will rise and flood the earth. If you want to live, go get yourself a big boat brodah."

He raised his beer mug to me and finished it off in one gulp. He waved goodbye and left humming his ugly song.

"See you in the new Earth, Mr. Noah Finke."

Weird conversation. Weird guy. He did not even look like an advocate of global warming. Big boats. New Earth. New Messiah. Crazy.

Wait, how the heck did he know my name?