This Is Stella's Reality

September 5, 2015

My knees bounced nervously as I sat in a small waiting area outside the office of the university's president. He had called me in for a meeting to go over whatever it was he wanted me to do here.

I sighed, trembling with anxiety for no reason other than my own self-inflicted worries. My phone buzzed in my pocket and nearly gave me a heart attack. But it was just Bucky. Good luck, my love! You're going to do amazing! I love you!

We had talked about it the night before. He was over the moon excited for me to be able to get out of the house and do something other than make the same draughts over and over again or prune the same herbs or take the dogs on another walk around the neighborhood.

To be honest, the more I thought about it, the more excited I became as well. The anxiety was still there, deep within me due to my own insecurities, but I knew I was qualified. I knew I could handle it.

"Madame Rogers-Barnes?" A voice asked me. It was a man, about my height and with strikingly blonde hair and green eyes. He seemed kind, older and gentle in nature. "I apologize for the wait, but we may talk now."

The dark oak of bookshelves that lined his office caught the golden light of the afternoon as it streamed past tall windows. There were diplomas and artworks framed and hanging on the walls. A French flag adorned the mantle of an unused fireplace.

"My name is Michel Dupont, and I am the president of this university. Many of our students are pursuant of law degrees, thus they are enrolled in many humanities classes such as the classics.

"I would absolutely love to have you become a part of our faculty and teach a course based on your own experiences as an Olympian. Tell me, what is it like? Is it as romantic and fantastical as the myths say?"

My chest heaved. No, I wanted to say. It is war and greed. Pride above all else. Selfishness and petty squabbles to fill the endless abyss of eternity. Nothing but hatred and ill-will masked by wine and nectar and ambrosia and the follies of nymphs.

"It is quite unlike the human experience," I said simply. "I am sure students will enjoy learning all that I have to offer from my memories and life."

"Oh, I am sure they will," he breathed with bright eyes and intrigue in every ounce of his being. "You are the daughter of," his voice trailed off as he prompted me to answer.

"Hades and Persephone," I answered. "I lived and received an education in the Underworld within the walls of my father's castle. My teacher was Hecate, goddess of magic and crossroads. I think she'd be quite proud to see that I have become a teacher in her footsteps."

He grinned widely. "That sounds incredible." His hands were interlaced together, and his head rested upon his knuckles as he sighed and watched me, seemingly entranced by my very existence.

I smiled awkwardly and shuffled my weight in my seat, glancing around the office. "Uh, so, what exactly would I be teaching the students?"

"Ah," he said, snapping out of his trance, "yes, this is a rough outline of the course expectations. The class is titled Olympus Through A Lense. It is up to you what you wish to cover. I'm sure the students would be greatly interested in anything you have to offer them."

"Yes, I'm sure we'll have a splendid time," I sighed.

My own students. My own class. Teaching whatever I wished about whoever I wished. Out in the real world, away from the confines of our apartment. Away from the Underworld and Olympus. This would be good.

We'll have a splendid time.