The sea is calm the day he finally spots it.
Out in the middle of the blue, a small wooden boat drifts along, loaded with one pink hustle guru, a pair of overpriced binoculars, and a backpack full of self-help books he wrote himself. He scans the horizon for what every podcast promises: that sweet, mysterious thing called overnight success.
There it is.
A shining white peak sticking out of the water, glowing like a sponsored thumbnail. Bright letters on the top read: Overnight Success. The guru gasps, nearly dropping his binoculars into the ocean. “Wow, overnight success!” he says, loud enough for the universe, the algorithm, and any nearby investors to hear.
From the boat, all he sees is the glittering tip. He doesn’t see the rest of the iceberg, the bigger part sinking deep into the dark water: YEARS OF HARD WORK, FAILURES, GRIND, DEBT, LATE NIGHTS, EARLY MORNINGS, SACRIFICE, REJECTION. Each word is carved into the ice like someone tried to leave a warning and then just kept going.
Waves slap against the frozen wall of effort. The iceberg groans quietly, heavy with all the boring parts of success that never fit into a tweet. But from his perfect distance, the guru only sees the highlight. No spreadsheets. No panic. No empty bank accounts. Just the shiny summit.
The ocean rolls its eyes and keeps the rest of the story underwater.
