𝟬𝟮𝟵. the heavens and eternity

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AERA WAS TOO PRETTY to be dealing with all that smoke. If it wasn't for Tristan McLean, she wouldn't have gone up that mountain in the first place. She took one look in the mirror and almost shrieked like a banshee. Not only was there a gigantic purple bruise staining the tender, porcelain skin around her neck, but she had lost one of her contact lenses and her double-eyelid tape was coming undone. There was an explosion of dirt, glitter, and smudged marker on her face. Her hair could not be messier. Her pores were stretched wide open. The day had just begun and there was much work to do. On her appearance, that is.

But as Aera rushed to freshen up on that rescue helicopter Piper sweet-talked the pilot to land, she noticed Piper struggling to get her dad to calm down.

"Piper." Her dad grasped her hand and held on like he was afraid he would fall out the side of the chopper. "It's you? They told me—they told me you would die. They said...horrible things would happen."

"It's me, Dad," Piper said and her usually soothing voice sounded really choked up. "Everything's going to be okay." She doesn't sound very okay, Aera thought dimly as she pressed on a fresh layer of eyelid tape with a pair of tweezers. Ah, much better.

Jason was holding up her handheld princess mirror so she could have both hands. Aera tried showing him her stellar eyelid work but he was distracted by Piper's dad. Aera couldn't even blame him. It was the Tristan McLean. A day ago, she would have given her favorite Birkin to see him in person.

Plus, Jason was cute when he was concentrating on something. His bright blue eyes would grow all wide and full of interest like a mesmerized child as he took in the information around him. One of these days Aera was going to see which constellation she could spot in his starry eyes.

"There were monsters," Tristan McLean croaked, breaking Aera out of her thoughts about Jason's dreamy eyes. "Real monsters. Earth spirits, right out of Grandpa Tom's stories—and the Earth Mother was angry with me. And the giant, Tsul'kälû, breathing fire—" He focused on Piper again, his eyes like broken glass, reflecting a crazy kind of light. "They said you were a demigod. Your mother was..."

Ugh. Aera's other eyelid was coming undone. She straightened Jason's hand into the right position and got back to work.

"...Aphrodite," Piper answered woefully. "Goddess of love."

"I—I—" Tristan McLean, the flashy movie star Aera admired on the TV screen, took a shaky breath, then seemed to forget how to exhale. Aera could barely hear anything else over the sound of his pulse. His heartrate was that of a Black Friday shopper stuck in the trenches of the Walmart electronics section. In other words, he was coming down from a panic attack.

No one seemed to be in the mood to chat. Piper was on the verge of tears. Leo fiddled with a lug nut from his tool belt. Jason diverted his gaze to the valley below, so Aera couldn't see any more stars. The roads started to back up as mortals stopped their cars and gawked at the burning mountain (why did these mountains seem vaguely familiar, though? Had Aera been here before with a lover?). Bush chewed on the stub of his carnation. For once their aggressive furry coach didn't yell or boast.

The air was totally awkward because Tristan McLean wasn't supposed to be seen like this. He was a legendary movie star—confident, stylish, suave, and always in control. That was the public image he projected. Now he was crying like a little boy...

Before moving onto her eyelashes, Aera pushed Jason's hand down and scooted closer to Tristan McLean, sweeping her hair over her shoulders to cover her bruised neck.

"Hey, it's okay," Aera said softly. "Your daughter's not in danger and neither are you. Except for maybe, well, all of her admirers."

Tristan McLean looked at her in shock. "Her admirers?"

CATHARSIS, jason grace¹ [REWRITING]Where stories live. Discover now