[ZEUS]

I've been floating on cloud nine ever since last weekend, it's Friday now and I wanted to see Julian even if it was for a brief few minutes. I'm so happy.

Because of Julian. I thought, nodding to myself as I hummed to Animals by Maroon Five. Now that's a band. It's quite funny how people call a group of people that sing together a band, that's a singing group. A band has instrumentalists and a lead singer.

"Mr. Darcanius." I heard Amanda's voice say as she walked into my office

"What?" I yawned, pulling out my earpiece as she walked towards my desk, a small box balancing in her hands. I raised a brow at it. I had received Julian's CV on Tuesday and I'm sure as hell that I'm not meant to receive anything important.

"You have a package sir," Amanda said, lifting the box a little higher for me to take a better look.

"From who?" I asked, stretching my hands out for the package. Amanda gave it to me, a clipboard balanced on top for me to sign.

"The package from Atlanta sir," Amanda said and I stiffened. Atlanta?

"No, no, no. I'm sure I terminated that delivery," I said, dropping the box before pushing it away from me.

"It was sent even before you asked for it to be canceled," Amanda said, pushing it back to me. I sighed.

"I don't want it," I said, pushing it back towards her.

"Well, neither does the delivery man," Amanda countered, pushing the box back to me.

"Fine," I sighed, giving up before signing the clipboard. I handed the clipboard back to her and watched her leave the office. When the door finally closed behind her I dared to look down at the box.

The letters. The damn letters.

Inside the box are all the letters and postcards I ever received from Augustus. I had a thing about getting them sent from my home in Atlanta right before the end of January and I read them till February the fourteenth. But after Julian... I had the mail terminated. But I guess it failed since they're right in front of me.

I frowned down at the brown cardboard box in front of me. What I'm I supposed to do with these, read them? I thought, taking the heavy box in my hands.

I finally settled my mind on opening it. As I opened the ancient smell of old paper hit me as expected. The letters were neatly stacked in descending order; from the oldest to the newest.

I fished around a bit looking for one of my favorite letters. Retrieving the letter from the complicated stack, I undid the yellow envelope to retrieve the letter. Looking at the letter my mind bubbled with mixed feelings.

I was starring at Augustus' perfect cursive writing with perfect spacing. That was what and possibly what Augustus was, 'perfection'. I must have been a fool to think I could have him, have perfection to myself.

My eyes scanned the letter briefly before I decided to read it from the beginning.

Dear Zeus,

I have nothing to do nothing to think about. How do you survive all alone in that house, only to be remembered when they dim you useful?

I miss you, I really do. There's no one to cuddle up with when the nights get cold. No one to share casual kisses with. No one in my school can be compared to you; your level of beauty acceding them all. They're all too proud and too ugly for themselves to notice. Their personalities lack substance and they talk like brainwashed puppets with strings controlled by their parents.

Do you still count the stars without me? Still see odd things up there like each other's groins?

I miss smelling you, just buying my head in your hair and smelling you. Did I ever tell you that you smelled like fresh library books and pines? I can't imagine doing that to anyone here. Their cologne is possibly strong enough to choke me. How do girls pretend to like it, I don't know.

I hope you dream of me at night because I still dream of you at night. I remember every curve and edge of your body, every perfect imperfection.

I want to hold you, Just to know that your there. I want to feel every part of you... Dear me, what am I writing? I'm writing to my timid Zeus, aren't I? I don't want to scare you just express how much I desire you. I can't wait, I hope you know that. but waiting has just become too painful.

Grow your hair out for me. I love how long it is. Please do take care of yourself.

Promising you kisses,

Augustus.

I gave the letter a week smile. I can still remember how it had made my heart race when I had read it fourteen years ago. How I had cherished the piece of paper and made a place for it on my bedside table. I doubt Augustus did the same. My letters were shy and written with an innocent mind, while Augustus' ranged from affectionate, touchy, wanting, and just plain perverted.

I think still remember the one he sent that had my cheeks burning for weeks. I had hidden it beneath one of my drawers, afraid that someone might find it and read it.

I started to raid the box again searching for that particular letter and smiled when I found it. 

Desirable Zeus,

I do say I doubt you'll make it to the end of the letter, but oh well...

You're probably wondering why I'm even writing. Well, it's nothing so important, just that I want you, want to be inside you, feel your muscles contract against me. I want to watch you take me in your mouth and devour me, making me yours and you mine. I want to tie your hands to the edge of the bed so you won't annoyingly turn over or swat me like you usually do when I try to kiss your nipples.

Zeus, don't stop reading. Is it so bad that I want you to quiver under me? Want you to shout my name? Is it so bad that I want you to beg, beg me to be inside you, rock with you until you reach your peak?

Zeus you know I've always been infatuated with your body, by how beautiful it is, how beautiful you are. Have I told you about the times I've watched you sleep naked? About how much time I spent in the bathroom as a consequence.

I want you Zeus, and I want to devour you. Is that so bad?

Would it scare you if I should leave a hint of my location? Walking to the bathroom to take a cold shower and It's all because o you.

Lusting for you,

Augustus.

It had taken me a week to come up with a polite answer to that letter. I sighed, packing up the scattered letters back into the cardboard box.

Why did it ever have to turn out like this? Why, why did Augustus have to desert me?

*

I sighed in relief at the end of office hours. I need a drink... no, I need to sleep. I thought, heading out of my office.

I carried out my wise to sleep leaning on the wall of the elevator as I listened to boring music. I thought about my life, and where I was heading. I decided that there was a fifty/fifty chance that I would die alone. Did I do something wrong to deserve not being loved?

I didn't choose to be gay, I didn't choose to be rich, and neither did I choose to be a Parthoropeons. That' why I threw myself at Diablo, that's why I ran away from home. But it's ironic, right? To run away from wealth only to stumble back into it just to show them. To show the people that claimed to be my parents that I wasn't useless; wasn't a disgrace and waste of time.

Imagine my surprise at getting to L.A with Lambert. I had finally gone on the net after months to find out that I was in fact proclaimed dead by my own parents. I don't know why they did it, probably not to damage their reputation. They knew I ran away I had left a damn letter for God's sake.

It was then I basically understood why the 'peasants' didn't like them; they cared about themselves and themselves alone.

Hearing the elevator stop I walked out to be greeted by the regular sirs, Mr. Darcanius and so on. Sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it, worth all the pain if my parents' won't still know it was my own company that was beating theirs on the foreign charts. They probably don't care since they're swimming in their own wealth.

I paused to look at my car parked in its regular reserved space. The white Lamborghini I didn't use around Julian, the one that stayed in my actual house. I sighed walking up to it. I really don't want Julian to know how much I have, don't want him to leave me like the rest. I just don't want to be alone or used the way I had just Diablo.

Getting into the driver's seat of my car I busied myself with warming the engine. I soon drove out of the too big of a reserved parking space and out through the main gates.

To think of it, I haven't called Lambert in a while and it makes me feel a bit guilty. I sighed retiring my phone from the dashboard. I quickly dialed Lambert's number and dropped it back on the dashboard waiting for him to pick. I seriously don't want to be harassed over driving and talking on the phone.

"Hello?" I finally said.

"Hey pops," I said. Even though I tried to sound playful, I just sounded exhausted. My good mood from earlier today had been dismissed by the package I received.

"Don't pops me, you've started doing what other kids do; grow wings and forget about their old man," Lambert said, sarcasm staining his tone, and I couldn't help the genuine laugh that vibrated through me. That's Lambert for you. He's been more of a parent to me than my two parents combined.

"You don't fit the depressed parent character," I teased.

"Of course I don't," Lambert said in a matter of fact tone.

"So, why haven't you been calling?" He asked. His voice sounded concerned, and I felt a little bad for not calling.

"I really don't know," I sighed, stopping at a red light.

"Thing?" Lambert offered.

"Things," I said, confirming his suspicions.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Would you miss me if I... you know, died?" I asked. I'd actually been thinking about that for a while. I don't have a family, no confirmed lover and no kids. It's like I'm a useless use of space the world was just waiting to get rid of. I was just existent and if I left no one would probably care.

"No, I'll slap you until you regain consciousness," Lambert assured me and I chuckled.

"So, what you're saying is you'll miss me?" I asked, and Lambert snorted.

"Of course I will.  I'm your father." I heard him say as the lights turned green. I took my leg of the brake and smiled as I started moving.

"You're not my dad," I said. My voice was low, but I was sure Lambert caught the turmoil in it.

"Shush, we're playing pretend," Lambert fake whispered and my smile widened.

"It's great talking to you," I confessed, making a turn at a corner.

"You too."

"Goodbye," I said as I reached my street.

"Goodbye." I heard from the other end before the line went silent.

[LINDA]

Julian has been ignoring me. He's been sleeping on the couch or spending unhealthy lengths of time in his studio. I'm not going to apologize. He should be the one begging. I have to do something, but Kevin wouldn't help me, and that's why I checked her up online, which eventually led me to her number. Thank you phonebook.

Amanda Riverdale. Zeus' secretary and personal assistant.

I fished my phone out my pocket before dialing the number I kept the index finger of my thumb pinned on the phone book opened wide on the desktop table.

The study room's stuffy and small. The pale pink paint on the wall was peeling hopelessly. I haven't renovated this place since we bought the house and this was already crappy when we got here. Maybe I should have at least considered renovating it when Julian asked.

The phone started to ring steadily. I waited patiently, my breaths coming out I pants.

"Hello?" A feminine voice asked after answering the call. I probably have the right person. I thought, trying to straighten out my act before speaking.

"Hello, Amanda Riverdale," I said, straightening up in my seat.

"How-how do you know my name? Do I know you?" I heard her voice shake, and I could imagine her puny hands choking the receiver with fear. I laughed.

"Amanda, do you believe in blackmail?" I asked, biting the inside of my cheek.

"What-what happened?" she asked, confused, but I could still hint at the fear in her tone.

"I know you're pregnant," I said, twirling strands of my hair around my finger. I can't believe this is turning out to be fun.

"How?!" she yelled, the cool composure she had tried to keep crumbling to pieces. 

"You know, it doesn't really matter how I know," I laughed into the phone.

"Why—"

"I know it's for Zeus."

"Ho—"

"I know you specifically asked for his donations," I continued.

"Please..." she trailed, sobbing.

"Please what? Should I tell him? Should I please tell him?" I laughed, spinning in my chair.

"No, don't tell him. Hell, he'll make me get rid of it. I want this baby, okay? I want his baby," she cried. She's crying? I frowned. This isn't fun anymore. I can't tease her when she's scared out of her skin.

"Don't worry, I won't," I said, biting back the part of me that wanted to tease her more.

"Thank y—"

"Don't thank me yet. You still have to do something for me," I said, cutting her off halfway.

"What-what do I have to do?" she asked as her voice quivered. I sighed before saying what I had to say.

"What's his real name?"