4:18 p.m. Passion Ministry
During his performance, John glanced up at Jimmy’s box. Unable to shake the fear that swirled around him, like the fumes from the stage’s smoke machine. Something was off. The horizon had shifted.
He had to push to focus on his voice and his performance. This should be such a high. Such a BUZZ. He used to inhale it, like air.
He was thankful that Brendan’s tricks of lights, sound and vapors veiled his momentary agitation. Though he tried to reassure himself that everything was being done to protect himself and Jimmy, a horrible conviction reared forth: disaster lurked among his disciples.
Before long, Rachel experienced something amazing. She felt the audience’s stunned, elated reaction, began to realize there was more to this Adonis than looks. When the Apostle smiled, she knew it was at her.
The Apostle gazed into the crowd. Eyes shining steadily, without self-consciousness or guile. Found her.
Harry shifted noisily in his seat but Rachel ignored him, enslaved by the heavenly figure on stage. “Wow,” she whispered.
Suddenly, the stage went black. The crowd continued to yell.
The Apostle had vanished.
