"Ambrosia for two, Zac. You know, the special one," the man said with a wink to the bartender and then he smiled at the brunette. "Love, Zac's special is the best cocktail in town."

With swift movements, Zac uncorked a bottle of Veuve Cliquot Rosé and poured some pink champagne in two flutes glasses, added the needed amount of Courvoisier, Roger Groult Reserve, Cointreau and squeezed some lemon juice. Lastly, he skilfully stirred the mix counting mentally to three.

One...

You still remember the Titans, luring you out with trinkets and toys to tear your body apart and feast on your divine flesh.

... two...

You still feel your pulsing heart sliding down your mortal mother's throat, settling in her womb where it used her blood and flesh to resurrect you.

... three.

You still remember Ampelos, your friend – your lover – how he was turned into vines, how you sought comfort in its grapes.

He pressed the lemon peel, squeezing the aromatic oils over the cocktail.

"Ambrosia for two," Zac said, sliding the glasses to the couple.

They toasted to who-know-what happy events, laughing and whispering cheesiness to each other in husky voices.

For the whole evening, Zac mixed cocktails restlessly, showing off his skill to please a couple of well-known regulars of Camellia Hotel's Lounge Bar.

You remember how tasted unmixed wine millennia ago, so bad you had to add honey, spices and resins to give it a pleasant flavour and taste.

"Could you keep an eye on that guy? I think he wants his date dead drunk," whispered the manager.

"Leave it to me," Zac replied as he toyed with the amethyst seal ring on his forefinger, eyeing a more than tipsy redhead and her not-so-tipsy chaperon.

Once upon a time, you were able to distribute soberness and drunkenness on your whim, but you lost that power a long time ago when men stopped worshipping you.

"Hard day, eh?" the regular said, a thirty-something, curvaceously sexy woman.

"Same for you, Jackie," Zac replied. "That's you third and the peanuts are untouched."

Jackie drank her scotch in one and slammed the glass on the counter. "That Warnet! Bugger up a big contract because I refused to bed him!" She chewed her peanuts angrily and shook her now-empty glass. "One more."

Zac sighed. "You shouldn't; you're still an employee here."

"Not for too long," she hiccupped depressed. "I'm done for..."

"You have to sober up," he commanded in a fatherly way. "I'll ask Marcello for a tapas plateau and tomorrow you'll stop by for a Porto Flip on your way to work."

Jackie smiled half-drunk at him. "You're a saint, really."

"Saints are Christians," he replied bittersweet. "I'm a god."

"Well, it's not hard to picture you as Apollo or Adonis," she grinned.

Zac shook his head. "Nay. I'm Dionysus or Bacchus."

"Please, no!" Jackie laughed shaking her head. "You're too good-looking for Fantasia's drunkard!"

Once upon a time you would punish with madness whoever doubted your divine nature.

Jackie rose her empty glass in a toast. "To Zac Acratophoroulos, God of Cocktails at Camellia's Lounge Bar!"

And you feel the power soaking those words – a faint ghost of what once they carried, but enough for you to survive.

Author's Note

Don't ask me why, but I've always pictured Dionysus as a dashing bartender, flipping bottles and mixing cocktail in a super fancy lounge bar IF still dweld in our world.

The fake identity he uses, Zac Acratophoroulos, is a pondered choice. According to certain version of the myth, he was originaly born as Zagreus, son of Zeus and Persephone: as usually, Hera didn't like him - expecially since his divine father choose him as his heir - and had Titans kill the little boy. Zeus arrived too late, burned down the Titans (humankind was said to have born from their ashes) and was able only to retrieve the pulsing heart. He implanted - or tricked to drink - Zagreus's heart to Semele, impregnating her with Dionysus.

Ampelos was a satyr loved by Dionysus: he died while riding a bull and was turned into vine. It was then that Dionysus discovered how to make wine.

In ancient time, wine brewing was more a trial and error business, so often the results were not so good: adding water, honey, spices and resins helped improve the taste.

Amethystes were said to protect from drunkness and in classical age people used to put those stone into their wine, thinking it would allow then to not get drunk.

Jackie, on the other hand, it's a character for a story I planned to write, but haven't yet started