In order to understand this, you must first learn who Noah really is.
Life has a funny way of changing you. You could be living life in red, like those red lights that scream sin accompanied by loud sinful music. But all the sudden, you stumble on something, so unexpectedly and it makes you evolve to the point where you can no longer stand the sight of those red lights.
That’s kinda what was happening with Noah. He had spent thirty-eight years living this life he was given, unhappy but unable to figure out why. He knew there was more to just giving into hedonistic desires, specifically ones that revolved around the birds and the bees. He grew immune to all that lust; exposed flesh just didn’t do it for him anymore. He often wondered if he was being punished, by having his manhood taken away, by not being able to feel anything.
He recalled once making conversation with one particularly rich customer, an Arab man who loved leading this double life of religious man and Don Juan. Noah was never particularly interested in customers, but this man had this aura about him. His warm toned skin and shiny black hair—the definition of tall, dark, and handsome.
Ironically, the man appeared to know so much about the history of his name, Noah. He told him that in Islam, Noah was a prophet, a Godsend that encouraged his people for nine hundred and fifty years and warned them about the afterlife. How God had instructed him to save a pair of every living creature, enough to rebuild the world once the flood swallowed it
That was the moment that changed it all. As if it was the cherry on top to make him walk away, feeling guilt for holding such a holy name, but throwing it to the ground.
Noah quit Arch and never looked back.