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Okay so the titty trick may not have been the best idea.
Not only were Meg’s fingers twitching on the hilt of her new Celestial Bronze blades, but by the figurative knives she was glaring at him with, Apollo had a good idea where she wanted to shove the very sharp and long ouch into. If he wasn’t an immortal god, she would have been charged with attempted murder. Or would she? Does looking at someone with murderous intent count as murder? He wasn’t quite sure yet. Regardless, one way or another, Meg McCaffrey was out for blood.
His own blood. Ichor. Whatever.
Apologies (Apollo-gies?) were in order, except that Meg looked like she was about to explode from sheer anger or burst into a lengthy lecture. He hoped it was the latter, though he wasn’t looking forward to that. Meg’s lecturing mode was earsplitting torture, and past Apollo was unfortunate enough to invoke her wrath.
She took a deep breath, and he internally cringed. It’s coming. Oh gods, it’s coming. Quick! Dial 911!
‘You,’ Meg began, her voice dripping with barely-concealed fury, ‘fucking donkey. What the fuck was that?’
He chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck as she stared at him with the intensity of a crow. Gods usually don’t get nervous, but then again, most gods haven’t met Meg McCaffrey, daughter of Demeter, and kicker of crotches. Apollo was begging for his crotch to get kicked at this point.
‘It was a chiton,’ he protested, turning his glance downwards so that he wouldn’t have to look Meg in the eye. ‘Look, if you want to cosplay a Greek god, you gotta wear the chiton.’
‘Plus,’ Apollo added, ‘it’s not my fault that the chiton had a titty window. We used to wear those all the time! And I am pretty sure no one looked at the titty!’
‘Pretty sure? PRETTY SURE?’
‘Actually, no, I have looked at Hyacinthus’s tits and gods-’
‘Apollo...’
‘It was hot. Which I realised doesn’t help my case at all.’
Judging by how much Meg was gritting her teeth, his explanation didn’t work at all, which was absurd. Chitons were the hottest thing since #Hyapollo, before it all crashed and burned like a discus to the brain.
'Okay,' he amended his stance, 'maybe I didn't think this one through. But the look on Jacob's face! That was funny!'
The narrator at the back of his mind screamed Top 10 moments before disaster, as Meg’s eyes pierced his own soul. He could almost feel it now, the unholy, agonising impact on his divine posterior. Apollo cringed. He was practically begging for it at this point.
Meg pinched the bridge of her nose, her body shuddering as she tried to inhale. She was tightening her grip on her swords now, her knuckles turning whiter and whiter by the second. Whether that was good or bad, he didn't want to know.
'Twitter.' She breathed out. ‘Your fan club, Mr God of Prophecy.’
‘What about it?’
‘Did it ever occur to your dumb brain that people will take it out of proportion?’
He had, actually. In the upcoming days, a new term called a ‘sexyman’ will emerge, and…Oh- that was new. He considered telling Meg what was about to happen but then decided against it. Whatever. That would be a problem for future Apollo and Meg.
Apollo grinned sheepishly.
‘Had a rough, vague idea. It’s not like it’s about to get that bad.’ He said, like the liar that he was. Meg didn’t seem amused by this, judging by the sigh that she exuded. But hey! At least she didn’t look as pissed! That was an improvement.
‘Let me check Twitter,’ she decided, leaving no room for further argument.
Oh… Oh no…
‘You shouldn’t, really.’
He received a stink eye in return, but that was no surprise, seeing that it was Meg. Meg sniffed in disdain, throwing a pair of gloves and a trowel at him. Where she got it from, he had no idea. But he supposed it was a peace offering. At least for now.
‘Plants,’ she announced while glaring at him. ‘Go help me plant some vegetables. I will meet you on the roof.’
And that was that. He had no other choice except to accept her offer.
Apollo was really starting to regret the titty now.
~~~
For a camera quality that looked like it was on a lifeline, he didn’t think his tits would look so HD.
It was one thing to prophesy a new genre of thirsty fans. It was another to be staring at them point blank in the face. His fans made Dionysus’s maenads look tame, and they were followers of the god of madness.
Hundreds, if not, thousands of notifications flooded his Twitter inbox. Under normal circumstances, Apollo would have been delighted. This kind of attention reminded him of ancient times, back when he was still being worshipped as a god. However, when one’s man boobs were the subject, it does tend to distract from the main topic.
If Meg was to find out…
‘APOLLO.’
Her thunderous voice bounced off the walls of Aeithales, causing the sun god to gulp. So she found out.
He debated teleporting in a flash of gold, because honestly anywhere was better than being in a place with a furious McCaffrey But before he could do that, the devil herself appeared, with figurative steam pouring from her ears.
‘You piece of shit,’ she spat out, shoving her monster-proof phone into his face. ‘Trending on Twitter because of your stunt. And I got caught up in it, because I am your ‘cousin’.’
‘Uh- surprise?’
‘How was this a surprise? Listen here, asshole. I got half a mind to find out how to murder a god. And you are first.’
Apollo winced, backing from the furious teen. ‘We’ll put a pin on that, alright? I gotta go.’
‘I will kill you-’
‘I gotta go~’
With those oh-so-cheerful words lingering in the air, he disappeared in a flash of golden light, leaving a fuming Meg behind.
His body reconstructed itself on the floor of the Sun Palace, while Apollo breathed a sigh of relief. At least screaming young girls were a rarity here. He could continue scrolling through the hellsite without risk of decapitation.
He pulled open Twitter for the second time that day, and scanned the newest hashtag trending, only to stop short at something that looked like it came from a horror movie.
‘Well,' Apollo announced with forced enthusiasm, 'I know what I will be doing today.'
And he clicked on #MrA(ss).