When Cupid Falls In Love

Chapter 4: Cupid

I've been to New York a thousand and one times. You would think, over the years, humans would find a way to make it a little safer, or cleaner, but they were more concerned about the latest fashion or being the most successful. That's all humans worried about nowadays. It was a far cry from what they used to care about in the past—wars, famine, if the king is destroying the economy, and wheat.

My mother loved it though and saw the city, with all its people, as a fairytale land. Even with the rats crossing the street. Every time she paraded into the city she traded in her stunning gold and burgundy gown for a modern mauve human dress, which partially humanized her.

When we got to the Romance Readers Festival, she made us follow her as she stood next to festival participants and joined their conversations, even though they couldn't see her. She could allow them to, but she thought it was more fun to speak without anyone arguing with her. When you're a two-thousand-year-old narcissist you find entertainment in odd ways.

Unfortunately, despite being swept up in the excitement, she kept strong to her promise of holding on to my bow and arrows. The whole time she walked up and down the street the festival was on, she wore them mockingly on her back as we trailed behind her, weakened by our lack of interest. Celebration for fictional love wasn't as fun as Valentine's Day. It was insulting.

"Mom we've been here an hour; can we go now?" I begged with a gesture to my invisible watch.

She waved me off. "Find something nearby to entertain yourselves," She said as she stopped to examine herself in a mirror on a display for a novel called My Reflection. Pulling out her red lipstick, she puckered her lips as she dabbed it on before moving to the next booth, where some readers were discussing a male character who owned a successful shoe company and loved a waitress. Supposedly this unnamed waitress hated dogs, liked to read and had three kids. Big surprise, she wasn't like other girls. I bet at the end of the story they get a dog.

I hate it here.

Groaning heavily, Hermes leaned against me. "I think I'm dying; I feel so empty!"

I patted his shoulder. "That's boredom my friend." We melodramatically sighed then as we looked around the crowded street. Rows after rows of booths for novels were set up, while middle-aged women bought out the t-shirt vendors and teenagers ran around with overly priced food truck delicacies. Occasionally you could catch a wafer of perfume or an independent candle vendor, but the scene was still dreadfully boring. Even the music was dull, it was all instrumental music consisting of pianos and guitars. I wonder how Apollo would react to the dull music taste.

My gaze then fell on the empty mirror my mother had been examining herself in.

"Oh look! A mirror! I must go look at myself to make sure I'm still the prettiest boy in the room!" I drawled as I tugged Hermes in front of a full-length mirror by a booth, to mimic my mother when she checked herself out. "Oh Hermes, aren't we beautiful?" I cooed.

He grinned. "Yeah, but you know what would be better?" He reached over and grabbed a sharpie off the display table. "Sophisticated mustaches." He snickered, drawing the stupidest mustache I've ever seen on the surface of the mirror. It looked like two disfigured caterpillars trying to figure out how to kiss with their braces.

I reached for the sharpie as I grabbed his wrist. "Did a satyr teach you to draw? That mustache is an abomination!" I scolded, nearly managing to wrestle it free, but my almost victory was interrupted by mother when she banged her fist on the table.

Smiling tightly, she stepped between us as our gazes snapped over to her. "Cupid, honey, the humans may not be able to see you, but they can see a marker floating in the air and drawing strange images." She gestured towards a group of young girls watching us.