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At the front gates of Alton Towers, there stood a memorial to the park’s first rollercoaster. High above the guests’ heads, refreshed and painted blue or cast in bronze likeness, Corkscrew stood. In a way, at least. The original corkscrew track was cleaned and sealed and repainted to stand in memorial at the entrance after the ride was decommissioned, the metal twisting evenly and beautifully across the plaza. Just underneath, cast in bronze and waving in all the guests with his smile, was Corkscrew.
The very first Steward was given a memorial after his disappearance, his smile immortalized and his friendly welcome the first thing seen when entering the park to this day.
Nicholas looked up at the statue and couldn’t help feeling it was a pale comparison to the real thing. He still visited every morning, giving the statue updates about the latest events, leaning against the base with an exhaustion he couldn’t afford to show when he was on duty as Nemesis. He could at least be safe with that. He always ended his visits with “I love you; I miss you.”
And then the morning would begin and Nemesis would return to his post, thinking about the hand he more often than not found empty of another person’s.
In the evening, someone else would come, uncharacteristically quiet after the park closed. It would come up to the base of the statue, looking up at Corkscrew’s smile, and just silently pause.
Smiler would hear the comparisons throughout the day. Inverting coasters with a contagious positivity, a bastardization of the Real Deal, a soulless attempt at imitation to illicit trust. Honestly, the idea wasn’t that far off. The Ministry had attempted to refine the lighting in a bottle that was Corkscrew through Smiler before making it its own thing. That didn’t mean the constant measuring up wasn’t stressful. Was the Smiler second rate? Could it ever compare to someone as iconic and memorable as Corkscrew?
They were a rougher ride, sure, and the sheer number of inversions was sickening and overwhelming, but they were a little quieter, more themed, a record breaker. Why didn’t that feel like enough? Smiler had never met Corkscrew, but it heard the stories, felt the impact, and was the first to show up after he disappeared. Even TH13TEEN got to meet Cork just before that happened. Everyone knew him but them. They could never know, if they were enough.
Smiler would always end the visits with a quiet question with no response: “Would you be proud?”
Around and around they went, Nicholas in the morning, Smiler in the evening, passing each other by, both looking up to a Steward that no longer existed, could no longer give either what they wanted.
…
The Ministry of Joy had a work in progress for Smiler’s opening anniversary. Something welcoming, luring, allowing the doubtful to let their guards down and let the Ministry in.
But Stewards are much harder to Marmalise than humans.