Demonology 101

Lesson One: Greek God or Demon?

The day had tinted secrecy hidden within the cool winds.

At times, it was easy for Luna to forget the reason she had friends. This moment, clarified exactly why this was a reoccurring thought.

"Tell me if we're missing anything for tonight."

"Okay, go."

"Cookie mix."

"Check."

"Chocolate chips."

"Check."

"Extra sugar."

"Check."

"Pitch forks."

"Check."

"You're not listening to me, are you? Luna?" A baritone voice spoke accusingly into the quiet atmosphere, followed by a rolling of emerald eyes. There was a short pause, before a hand lightly smacked the back of Luna's head as her forehead rested against a cool countertop, careless thoughts slipping her mind. The coolness radiating onto her skin wasn't enough to jolt her awake, yet the motion from the strong hand was quick to do the action with success.

"Leo, if you hit me again I'll get you fired from this place," she reluctantly rose her head, words lazily tumbling past her heart-shaped lips with evidence of lacking ambition. There was a prominent pattern of rain echoing within the small coffee place; the feeling was therapeutic in a way that almost resembled soothing ocean waves. Despite the light showers, afternoon sunshine cascaded through the tall windows of Manhattan's finest coffee shop, where the greatest drug dealer of 42nd street worked happily.

The drug dealer of 42nd street also happened to be Leo Melcore, Luna's best friend.

"That's a bet, I was hoping to quit soon anyway." He flickered her forehead, a devious grin capturing his curled lips. The look always reminded her of manipulation; though on Leo, the expression suited his sculpted features well. "You have to go to work-"

"Stop. Do not even say those words," a flash of horror struck her features within the span of a second, petite fingertips grasping the edge of her stool as she leaned away from the slender brunette.

"Luna, you've never worked a day in your life. Chill. Your dad is the richest man in all of New York State, I would blow to get a position like yours for his company."

She didn't exactly blame him, not that there was anything wrong with fellatio. Her father, Marc Bellrose. According to Star Potential Magazine, he was the richest man in the state, as well as the most handsome bachelor over forty, which was a title she tended to ignore to surpass awkward conversations.

Aside from Luna's dazzling personality and constant lack of sleep, with a dash of undermined intelligence of course, he was the reason she landed a job in The Bellrose Institute of Finance and Wealth. It was an assistant position, which by the end of the month, would most likely turn out terribly if it meant she had to take orders from anyone other than her father.

Because they both landed 'oh-authoritative' jobs, they decided to treat themselves to a night of fun with Chinese food and cookies.

Except, this time the cookies were special.

It was the summer between high school and college, though things were moving slowly and she hated to say it-- but the past month summarized to be more boring than her father's office.

"Then get to it," she jumped back into the conversation after a moment of pondering, "I heard there are a lot of male prostitutes that come in here..." The words had escaped her mouth just as the jingle of a doorbell sharply interrupted the conversation.