Eros
The sun is especially yellow today.
As if the light will cleanse all the distasteful feelings I have for that woman. The one who has dictated most of my life like a chess piece. I continue walking through the corridor, without a care for time.
The gold is pronounced by the light reflecting on it. As befitting a deity. There it is, her room. You can hear the sounds of pleasure far from there.
I stand in front of the door and push my hands, opening my eyes to multiple men caressing the skin of that woman.
"Mother, I have arrived." The men leave the bed with speed that is not considerate of (insert name). She looks at me, and a snake-like smile forms on her perfect face.
"Greetings, Eros." Aphrodite looks at me, pointing her arms at a small couch close to the bed. I walk towards the seat and place myself there, awaiting her request. "I need you to do something for me."
Ah yes, the one line that will never stop escaping those heart-shaped lips. She owes me her entire existence at this point. "You must use your … speciality to…"
"Name?" I interject. She makes a sound with her lips to indicate for me to stop, as if I'm her lapdog. This old whore. Thank Zeus, she is my mother. Before I think like Ares, she opens that mouth of hers to say something.
"You cannot use the weapon." I stare at her. What does she expect me to do without my bow and arrow, fly them into a romantic relationship? She gets out of the bed and walks towards me with a speed that would upset Nike. I stand as a sign of respect, and she puts her soft and highly saturated hands on my cheeks, grabbing my face and positioning it parallel to hers. "My wonderful son, I need you to do this for me. After this I will never request of you any help." Her cheeks rise, and a smile as real as gold forms. "Please." She is begging me. The goddess of sex is begging me to form a couple. Is she doing this for entertainment? I give up.
"I have given up; I shall do it." The words crawl out of my lips like a soul as someone dies. She explains to me my role and tells me Atena will have all the other information. I get out of that room, and the sounds continue, like they do it for eternity. I walk through the red and green coloured passageways into the library where all the information about everything lies. All for a price.
"What is the fine lad doing in my domain? A young female with a blue toga with a long skirt and white curly hair stands in the middle of the library.
"Praise to Zeus." I say the stain of emotions is washed by Atena's appearance. Other than my mother, people consider her to be the fairest lady around.
"You did not come here to stare at my body," Atena says, a bit of colour in her voice. A book materialised in her hands, and she approached me, putting it on my chest. I grab it before it falls.
"Do you know why I have to do this without my tools?" I skimmed the pages, finding out about the couple.
"All knowledge has a price, one you'd rather not pay. Just be careful." She tells me with a bit of what I will interpret as worry. If she is worried, I am as good as dead.
"See you soon." I take the book and walk out of the library.
Susan
People believe scrolling through TikTok for hours is horrible, but I need the boost in dopamine it gives me. Doesn't help my overall mood, but it is what it is. Someone grabs the phone from the palm of my hands, and a small amount of bloodlust enters me. It is my assistant, Jake. I almost do an exceedingly stupid thing to him, but my family would bash me to the ground.
He places a blue folder on my desk; it says "Acting Opportunities", and I am still deciding whether to end him. It's not his fault, but he does not make hating this job easier.
"Choose one"; there is no expression visible on his face on the surface. I see some malice in his eyes, a whiff of envy, as expected. You should not be on social media. You need to plan your next move. Although he blatantly disrespects me, he is useful.
"Give me my phone back, Jake." I demand, acting as if I did not listen to his advice. He looks at me like I am a pile of shit. He drops the phone and gets out of the office. I tell myself that I'll watch a few more videos, and I see a woman who looks like she has no imperfections, a jawline straighter than a wall, and lashes complementing grass. 'An interview with Susan Hayes' is the caption, and I realise it is me. I can't even say if that is my face; I never get time to see my true self. Does that matter? I am a pop star. People love me, my voice and my stories. Am I happy? Before I continue debating my well-being, my phone plays a Taylor Swift song, and I instantly know who it is; I get ready for my face to be hot from rage or embarrassment. Gods, how did it get to this? I once loved this guy, and I thought the same, but all of the memories vanished from James' mind.
"Hello, babe." I tried to make that sound genuine, but it does not come out like I imagined.
"Susan, we need to attend Kris' party; we need to keep up appearances." James did not put any emotion into it while he said those words.
"When are we actually going to do something real?" My voice slightly cracks; there is still a part deep in my soul that believes that our relationship wasn't a mistake. That this is not a one-sided love, that he loves me and we are just going through a phase. Am I delusional to believe so? Maybe or maybe not; even so, for now we have to look like a lucky couple. I should look happier than Blake and Ryan and more romantic than a Taylor Swift song.
"We cannot have this conversation now. Please, come." Although that was a request, his raspy voice was as emotional as a textbook. He hangs up, not waiting for an answer from me.
Hearing that deep, monotone voice pulls a bundle of memories to mind. I cannot think about that now; I need to find my next gig. My album is nowhere near complete, and the year has almost ended. I am not sure if I can go with James to the party; he will dislike it, but I doubt there is anything to dislike about me when he carries no romantic feeling for me. What happened to the man that made sure my every need was taken care of? The man that arrived home early just so he could talk to me, no matter what. The man I fell in love with. I understand he is busy, but can't a girl want more? We barely get a few minutes to talk daily. I just want him back. For now, it is not happening. I swallow the accumulation of spit forming in my mouth and get out of my chair. I walk to the door and use excessive force, which makes the door swing open. Jake's head turns from his desktop to me; his free posture becomes more stiff, and an undisturbing percentage of his forehead scrunches.
"Don't you dare give me the stink eye." His eyes widen, and it is visible that he is surprised by my commanding spirit. "I need a professional, sexy dress. You understand? Bring the makeup artist too." I grab my phone from my desk to see the time; Kris' parties are usually at 7 pm. I have 2 hours to prepare.
Eros
Lazily opening my eyes, I look around to assess my situation. I am in a bed, my body covered with a blanket that increases my temperature to a pleasurable one. Having removed the blanket from my neck to torso, I got out of bed. I notice there is a piece of clothing covering my genitalia.
I am sure that I was not wearing these peculiar pantaloons or drawers; it must be something mortals wear. The room does not fit my aesthetic; it is livable and needs minimal fixing. Adjacent to the bed is a plain wooden vanity with a mirror and a pair of clothing on top of it. At the top of the clothing is a note written in old Greek, meaning it's specifically for me. The sticky note tells me to put on these clothes, and if I dislike them, I can choose more from the cupboard.
It looks like Hermes' handwriting. I don't recognise the face I wear; if I were to come to Earth in my full form, it would be chaos. I slip into the rose shirt and black trousers, taking a look in the mirror. Unlike my dark brown hair, this mortal has hair with a short length that complements the gold statues in Olympus. My jawline has been sharpened by a sharpener, and this mortal body isn't anything jaw-dropping; Aphrodite blessed this man's parents.
I failed to notice a brick-like object on the vanity. I was not in a rush to grab the phone, and when it was in my palms, it lit up. Only the work of Atena. Her work is astounding. The brick has the exact time on it and emits colour. I place this brick into the pocket of my voluminous trousers and walk towards the door, opening it.
"You're finished." Hermes sits on the sofa, and the room is called by mortals 'sitting room'. He sought to reproduce the Greek aesthetic of Olympus, and he largely succeeded. He gestures for me to sit on one stool, and I proceed with his command.
"Greetings to you, Hermes." The stool is more gratifying than a fling, and I take in the stool's soft touch; it might be much, but I want to enjoy my stay here.
"Likewise, I believe nothing horrible has taken place since you came. Anyway, I owe Aphrodite a favour, so you can stay in my mansion for a while. I chose a suitable body for your task and gave you a phone for communication and research." My pride attempts to hold the query I need; he speaks as if I am to know what a 'phone' entails.
"Oh, my bad." He reaches for his pockets and takes out sweets.
"Eat this. This will show you how to use a phone." I take the sweet from Hermes' fingers and let it sit in my mouth. The sweet is wine-like; once I swallow it, a baggage of memories and information enters my mind. It isn't something words can describe well. It took a few seconds to feel like it belonged, and I knew what that brick was so fascinated by was for.
"How is it being sent by 'your equal', huh?" Hermes puts on the snake-like grin Mother likes to put when she says the most infuriating shit.
"Sorry, I don't comprehend." I do; I just don't want to admit it. I am giving her a favour because … okay, his logic is valid, but pride is a bitch, and it has taken control of my lips.
"You understand every word I said." I cannot hide my rage; my hands curl into fists, my face is the colour of what will come out of him if he stops spouting shit from that hideous (not really) face Zeus gave him.
"You and I are the same; the gods in Olympus treat us like mortals when I can travel Earth whenever I need to, and you – your powers are more potent than Aphrodite's, yet she orders you to do … shit." My voice is gaining power; it is a grenade and is about to be opened.
"You dare compare me to a servant? Me, who is the master of love, compared to you. You are every deity's messenger, sending whatever message they ask for. What is the point of this? Earth is shit compared to Olympus. I can manipulate any relationship with my bow and arrow, and you come here whenever you want; how pathetic." My heart was a glass, and I spilt all my negative emotions on Hermes. What did he use as a counterargument? A grin nobody asked for.
"I hate to admit it, but most of what you said is true. My question is, if you can command the heart of anyone, why are you here doing this simple task for Aphrodite?" I cannot answer that question; it is not because she gave birth to me. I think it is because I am lonely; I know how to pierce hearts, but I cannot attract them, and Mother, with this power, found true love and had me. I have not found the one in Olympus, so I came to Earth in the hopes of finding one. Ironic, I control love, yet I cannot find love. I bury those thoughts deep in my aching heart and decide I will lie to myself and to Hermes.
"I respect my mother, for I came out of her womb. I repay that debt by attending to her needs." Yes, that is what the gods must think of me, because I am a masterpiece with a perfect body, perfect personality, and the perfect lie. Don't tell them you're actually fucked up. Sell that and enjoy the meat called pride. The stare Hermes gives me says that the words that came out of my mouth were all lies, or something else I said was a lie.
"A big shot is hosting a party. I sent the address to you. There is a garment bag in the cupboard; I think I will like what I have prepared for you." His smile is gravity, real and impossible to disprove.
"It was nice conversing with you." We both know that was a blatant lie; I should thank him for having me here, but that would bruise my ego. I stand up with all the rush I can give and walk towards the door to my room. What did Hermes prepare for me?
Susan
"Which dress says, 'I'm sexy but I'm taken?" My relationship is tanking, and this is what I am contemplating: how desirable do I seem to men? James never cares, or I just know too little of his true self to know if he minds I show my curves. Everything I do feels like escapism: my songs, my career, and my fashion sense. My clothing options are mostly trumpet, corset, and mermaid dresses. There is one more dress I told myself I would not wear; it was the one I wore on the first date I had with James. It matches my 'sexy but taken' aesthetic. James' opinion would be great, but he is too busy to give two shits about what I wear.
"There is the purple corset. It has a flower-like thing on the shoulders, and it kind of looks like a wedding dress, hinting at marriage." One of Jake's useful traits is his opinions. Why need James when you have someone who you pay and who is not afraid of saying the nastiest things to you when you need to hear it?
"Why foreshadow marriage when it is not happening anytime soon?" I can also be blunt with him.
"Fair point, but isn't that what James would want? If you care at all, which you shouldn't." My dress I swore to keep as a souvenir is calling me and the others I have worn at the Kardashians' parties
"Okay, none of them are calling it so…" I take my house keys out of my door and walk from the cupboard to another door in this massive room. I place the keys in the lock and turn it with excessive speed, and it opens instantly. Jake watches me closer, and I gesture for him to come with me into the room. The room is dark, so I switch on the light, revealing the dress.
The mermaid gown I swore to keep in this room or the next room for the rest of my romantic life with James. Jake looks at it like he has seen God and gets out of the room, closing the door so I can change. This dress is so mesmerising; its satin textile creates a beautiful image and, in the right body type, shows a glimpse of my private and delicate parts. It is a tight fit, one you cannot have a number 2 in. Velvet is the colour of love and longing, and so this dress is the shape of love. It leaves most of my shoulders and some of my bust and legs open to view. The back of the dress is connected with the off-the-shoulder by a silver chain. I put the piece of art on my body and look at the mirror and see myself. I look stunning; I love it, and, well, I am not sure what James will think, but I want to enjoy myself.
"Jake, come in." I shout as I keep complimenting my body. He opens the door, and his eyes widen, and his mouth is shaped like an 'O' shape.
"Where was this dress? 'Cause you're a queen in it." An authentic smile forms on his face, and I put on my heels, order an Uber and wait inside the entrance of the hotel. I almost placed an order on the app if it was not for a man who was disturbing me from my phone. It was… James. Why is he here?
"Susan, are you ready to leave?" Using 'astonished' to describe this situation is an understatement of understatements. His suit fits my outfit perfectly. We are both wearing satin textiles; he has black as his crucial choice of colour, wearing a jet-black satin-textured tuxedo and black satin-textured pants. To add to his sexy look, he is wearing a black dress shirt that has two buttons that are not done, calling people, but the ring he wears clearly says that he is taken. And I have him; he is mine. I get to be in bed with this gorgeous man. Hopefully, we get in bed; our sex life is almost nonexistent.
"You look stunning." I am loving today. Did the gods finally give me what I have always asked for?
"Likewise" The muscles on his face shift into a grin, a genuine one. If only I could say our love is as real as that smile. We walk out into the night and get into his black limousine. The driver starts the engine, and we are now far away from the hotel. I cannot stop stealing glances at James. My evolutionary instincts are kicking in; I want his lips on my lips, his hands on my cheeks, and my body on his body. I find it hard to keep my sexual desire to myself. Is it a want or a need? I don't know. He is Christian, so I never had him inside me, which I respect, but my brain dislikes. God gave him a beautiful face, and I have to sit and watch it while we get to a party. Sad to think about, but satisfactory.
"Anything wrong?" He locks his eyes onto me, and he is a devoted Christian, as I cannot detect any lust in his eyes. Again, sad to think about, but good to see.
"All is well." I look outside so he cannot see what he calls a shameful sin in my eyes. I still love him, and I want him to love me. We don't try small talk while we are being driven by our chauffeur. A few decades later, we arrive. The party is semi-formal, I guess, with people like Taylor Swift, Harry Styles, and Drake attending. We join the party and try to vibe without messing our very expensive clothing and after a lot of time drinking, we find ourselves in a conversation with Maria Danlenterie.
"How's life?" Maria's voice was dripping with drunkenness; typical of the serial drinker in this industry.
"Better, especially when I took a step away from the challenges you had." James and Maria are not Rihanna and Cara type relationship. They are what you could define as exes, but they never dated because they were friends-with-benefits. I think she hates me; if only she knew that this relationship is likely one-sided and dysfunctional and we are the biggest marketing stunt in the entertainment industry. If she all of that, I don't think her eyes would be cuddling his body like that. I don't want to be the 'back off! His mine,' girl. To the rest of the world, we are Romeo and Juliet, if they lived happily ever after. It is true, we are similar, because sometimes I feel like Shakespeare wrote this relationship.
Instead of sending her 'killing intent'to the man who decided to roast her, she aimed it towards me, and I am the only one feeling the heat. I want to let a thought out of my mind, but if I dare say anything in this situation, we will both be damaged into dust.
"Ok, that is an interesting phrase. My life has been amazing until a cloud of rain had to show up" To look oblivious, I put the smile you paster on yourself while taking a photo. She can't stop directing shade at me. This is their problem, I did not decide to fiii a man without knowing what we think we are.
"I guess that's just a popular thought." Is James genuinely defending me? Fourth Wing would be jealous of my day. That fake smile is replaced by one that no one would dare mistake for fake. This is party, it is not the time to contimplate my sexual life. With the way James is acting today, my thoughts on the state of this is maybe a bit too negative. I, with the strength used to care of glass, slowly yank my arms from James' grip and go where the beer takes me. I steal a few moments to myself and let the alcohol control me, move my muscles with the music. While I am dancing, drowning my problems in alcohol, my eyes find a man my mind will never forget — Zach Blackwood.