Chapter 28: The Confidence Coaching
Howard catches me during Tuesday inventory.
"Can I ask you something? Personal?"
I'm elbow-deep in a box of new releases, but his tone makes me stop.
"Sure."
"How'd you do it?"
"Do what?"
"The transformation. The confidence. The—" He waves at me generally. "—whole thing. Ten months ago you were as awkward as me. Now you're dating Melissa, consulting for TV, running a successful business. What changed?"
I died and got supernatural powers that compound success into more success.
Can't say that either.
"Practice?" I try.
"That's not an answer."
He's right. And he looks genuinely desperate, not his usual cocky self. The belt buckle today says something vaguely sexual. Same Howard, different underlying need.
"You want actual advice?"
"Please."
"Okay. But you're not going to like it."
We start that evening after the shop closes. Melissa agreed to help—she's got opinions about Howard's approach to women, most of them unflattering.
"First rule," I say. "Stop treating conversations like missions to accomplish."
"What?"
"You approach women like you're trying to capture objectives. 'Make her laugh, get number, secure date.' They can tell. It's why you're creepy instead of charming."
Melissa nods. "You're performing. Women can smell performance."
"But I need to perform! I'm not naturally—" He struggles for the word.
"Attractive?" I supply. "Neither was I. But I learned to be genuine. That's more attractive than any routine."
"Says the guy who's dating—" He gestures at Melissa.
"Says the guy who succeeded by being honest about who he is instead of pretending to be someone else."
We practice for two hours. I make Howard do practice conversations where his only goal is listening. Not responding, not planning his next line—just listening and asking follow-up questions.
He's terrible at it.
"But if I don't have a funny response ready—"
"Then ask a question. 'Tell me more about that.' 'How did that make you feel?' Questions that show you're actually interested."
"But what if I'm not interested?"
"Then why are you talking to her?" Melissa asks pointedly.
"Because she's hot?"
"Wrong answer," we say in unison.
Howard groans. "This is impossible."
"It's not impossible. You're just fighting twenty years of bad habits." I grab two chairs, position them facing each other. "New scenario. Melissa's a woman at a coffee shop. Your goal is to have a pleasant three-minute conversation. That's it. No agenda beyond being a decent human."
"That's not how dating works—"
"Howard. Just try it."
Over three weeks, Howard improves incrementally.
Week one: Still creepy, still desperate, still treating conversations like pickup artist tactics from a blog.
Week two: Starting to listen. Occasionally asks real questions instead of delivering prepared lines. The belt buckles get less overtly sexual.
Week three: Actual breakthrough.
A customer comes in—early twenties, looking for recommendations. Howard helps her, and I watch from the back of the shop as he has an actual normal conversation. Asks what she likes. Listens to her answer. Suggests titles based on her interests, not what he thinks sounds impressive.
She laughs at something he says. Not polite laugh—genuine amusement.
They talk for fifteen minutes. At the end, she gives him her number. Voluntarily.
After she leaves, Howard stands there holding a receipt with digits written on it like he's witnessed a miracle.
"I got her number."
"You did."
"Without—" He looks down at his belt buckle (plain today). "Without any tricks or lines or anything. I just talked to her."
"You listened to her. Big difference."
"She's into Fables. She likes character-driven stories. She works at a bookstore in Glendale. Her name's Sarah." He looks up at me. "I know things about her. Real things. Because I asked questions."
"That's how it works."
"This is—" He sits down on the stool behind the counter. "This is completely different from everything I've been doing."
"Yep."
"I've been an idiot."
"Yep."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"People told you. You didn't listen."
He processes this for a while. Then: "Thank you. Seriously. For—" He waves the receipt. "—this. Whatever you did, it worked."
"You did the work. I just pointed you in the right direction."
After he leaves—practically floating—Melissa emerges from the back room.
"That was really nice. What you did for him."
"He asked for help."
"You could've blown him off. Most people would've. But you actually took time to coach him." She kisses my cheek. "You're a good friend."
"I'm a friend with advantages I'm leveraging to help people."
"That's a weird way to phrase it, but okay."
That night, updating my secret notebook:
Howard breakthrough: Had genuine conversation with customer, got legitimate number. Confidence coaching working. He's learning real social skills instead of pickup artist garbage.
Realized: The Attractiveness power's success aura might actually help people around me. When I'm confident and successful, it creates permission for friends to grow too. Like success is contagious.
This feels like the right use of supernatural advantages. Not just enriching myself, but lifting friends up. Howard's happiness matters as much as my own success.
Question: If I can teach Howard confidence, what else can I teach? Could the gang all benefit from my knowledge?
Answer: Carefully. Teaching requires explaining how I know things. Need to stay subtle. But helping friends succeed—that's meaningful. That's worth the risk.
I close the notebook feeling better than I have in weeks.
The powers gave me advantages. But using them to help friends—that transforms success from selfish to meaningful.
That's how I want to be remembered.
Not as the guy who got lucky.
As the guy who shared his luck.
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