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This night was just like any other.
The bar inside—as per-usual—bristled with Life.
Cups filled to the brim with cheap wine, glasses clicking loudly together. People chatting, joking and laughing, clearly drunk out of their minds yet it was all good in fun. faint western music playing from the jukebox. lights flickering, golden color but warm like home.
Safe to say, It was just another ordinary evening for the world.
...except a certain poet didn't join in on the life that erupted in the bar.
Outside, he was sitting on the rusty porch—Too busy trying to get the chords right as his gaze was laserfocused on his trusty guitar but ended up with annoyed grunts of not getting it right instead.
He huffed in frustration and winced as his guitar made a disatisying sound—similar to a stair creaking loudly. He considered the thought of tossing his guitar out and just... never pick it up again.
But as strong as determination is—He kept trying.
You may be wondering. Who is this young man? And why is he sitting all alone?
...Well! Orpheus was the poet's name and he now sings in sad songs in regards of mourning of failing to rescue his lover from the underworld.
And who was his lover, you ask?
Eurydice.
His fingers paused on the strings for a moment as the dreading name came across his mind then sadness in his eyes, brows furrowed.
His lover's shocked face before getting whisked away back into the underworld kept replaying in his mind. Haunting him in every second, every moment and every day in his life.
...He never got any sleep after coming back from Hades. It didn't feel the same without her there even lf they only knew each other for one or two days—it felt like Eros stringed his bow and arrow at the two of them like target practice the moment both of their eyes met.
The world moved on, kept spinning as usual.
but for the poet?—It felt like his entire world stopped infront of his very eyes the moment he turned around.
Slowly yet surely, feeling his own passion dying and wilting away each day after losing his lover, his muse.
She was the sole reason on why he was so determined to finish the song that could bring spring back in it's glory—So that, they could have a wedding somewhere with flowers blooming beneath their heels. a house of their own. it doesn't need to be expensive, just a nice cozy place to live in.
While they eat and drink like gods, A nice soft bed to lay in whilst the fluffiest blankets ever to cover their entire being until they were no longer freezing. Talking about meaningless stuff until one of them falls asleep.
...But, now, that dream could be never achieved—Because he was so caught up in finishing that damn song—it caused him to neglect the only important person in his life and now? only he had himself to blame.
It was only him and himself now, sitting on this very porch.
Alone.
The moon from the sky shined gently upon him—illuminating his chestnut messy hair while bugs and crickets alike chirped to signal the night was still young.
Orpheus stayed still for a moment, taking in the earthly environment around him.
"Eurydice would've loved sitting here." The poet thought before quickly shaking his head. trying to distract himself as he refocused on his strings of the guitar
One, four, wrong. One, three, wrong again.
He gruffly huffed inn annoyance, almost considering the thought of giving up—
"Well, well.. lookie here—who's the night owl?"
Orpheus paused at the familiar voice and immediately looked over to see his winged mentor.
Hermes, standing there with his hands behind his back, shiny black shoes. his signature grey blazer, matching his grey pants and a single feather brooch pinned on his blazer, The golden lights from the bar illuminating behind him. Making him seem more of a God than he already is.
"Mister Hermes?" The poet said, surprised.
"Good evening, Orpheus!" The messenger greeted kindly, walking shortly towards Orpheus. one of the floorboards creaked under his feet as he stopped to stand beside the poet.
"...Say, why aren't you with the people right now? It's gettin' chilly in this time of year and you know that darn ol' jukebox ain't gonna entertain 'em for long."
He chuckled at his own jest, expecting the poet to laugh along aswell.
But he didn't, Orpheus stayed oddly quiet. Looking up at his winged mentor like a kicked puppy.
Hermes' laughter died down quickly once upon noticing the lack of even a chuckle from the poet as short wave of silence erupted.
Until the messenger coughed awkwardly shortly after, hoping to bring some light into this already awkward conversation, putting his hands into his pockets.
"Are you thirsty perhaps, Orpheus?" He asked suddenly.
"No, i-i'm not.."
"Wanna grab a bite then?"
"No, I'm not hungry either..."
Hermes huffed but didn't protest. instead, he looked at the railroad leading to Hadestown then back to the poet who too was looking at the railroad but with an saddened expression and something familiar...
Grief
Recognition dawned in the messenger's eyes as he immediately understood on what was going on with the boy.
Hermes sighed heavily.
Meanwhile.. Orpheus stayed laserfocused on the road beside the bar. silently exploring the many different scenarios in his mind.
Foolish him, if only he hadn't listened to the lingering doubt in the back of his mind, if only he waited until the two of them got out, if only he didn't have the instinct to look back—
His thoughts were then interrupted as he felt a presence sitting next to him with a grunt.
Now turning to look at—Hermes sitting down next to him who's eyes held recognition for what the poet was currently going through.
The two didn't say anything for a moment. Just simply letting the bugs fill in the gaps by singing their tune.
"You still miss her, don't ya?" Hermes suddenly said.
Orpheus—taken by surprise—looked at his winged mentor like he said something else entirely, was he that easy to read?
But slowly, he nodded anyway: "Yes.. very much."
The two stayed quiet again for the next second till Orpheus continued. "I.. I don't know what to do anymore, Mister Hermes.. every and each day, I feel my passion slowly burning out, it feels like everyone and everything are moving forward, Time keeps moving forward yet i'm still here, still stuck. Mourning of what me and Eurydice could've had..."
"I- I can't play anymore, it isn't the same without her."
Hermes closely observed as the boy's expression turned into one look of hopelessness, sadness and of course—bargaining. Mixed all into one.
The messenger unfortunately knew all of that too well.
Orpheus sniffles, sighing. "I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you... you're a—a God, you probably don't understand what I'm even saying at this point."
Hermes scoffed, almost offended. "Well! Excuse you! I may be a God but i ain't no monster."
The duo stayed quiet for a moment then the two bursted into fits of giggles and snorts.
After the laughter died down, Hermes spoke up. "No, but you'd be correct—Gods don't typically understand mortals or how they function in their day to day life, especially grief. But I'm not saying all Gods don't understand mortals or how they work."
Hermes then nudged Orpheus in the shoulder with his hand. "Take me as an example—i understand your kind very well like no other God. how they work, how they function. I see everybody as friends—Even those who you consider your enemy, I can also be kind when I want to be! trust me.. They don't call me a man's best friend for nothin'!"
Hermes laughed, slapping his knee like he just told a good joke (or maybe it was).
Orpheus slowly smiled at the mood shift. It was a nice change for once to not be drowning in sorrow as usual.
But slowly after the laughter died down. The mood shifted to cheery from to now solemn.
"But, Here, let me tell you a secret, Brother—A secret not even my own brothers and sisters know." Hermes urged Orpheus to come closer with a single curl of his index.
The poet raised a brow but obeyed anyway, scooting a bit closer, paying close attention.
Hermes lowered his voice to a whisper. "I, too, lost somebody once. Just like you."
The winged mentor watched as the boy pulled away in surprise, his raised brow now rose. Dumbfounded by this newfound information he hadn't known until now.
"You lost someone aswell?" Orpheus said, in disbelief.
Hermes, amused by the boy's shock, nodded. "Oh, yes, it's hard to believe, especially a God such as myself but it's the truth."
"Oh.." the poet trailed off, staying quiet for a bit. "If.. if you don't mind, can you tell me more about them then? What were they like?"
Hermes smirked at the boy's curiosity. "No, I don't mind in the slightest—To start off, back when I was a young godling or in your case, your age. still new to godhood and guiding lost souls to Hadestown, all that..but until one day, when doing my usual duties in the bar. That's when he walked in—"
"He?"
"Is there a problem, brother?"
Orpheus gently shook his head: "No, no. Continue, please."
The winged mentor huffed, adjusting his blazer: "As I was saying before I got rudely interrupted—" That earned Hermes a smile from the poet as he resumed.
"The moment i laid eyes on that handsome man, i immediately fell in love." Hermes sighed in a dreamy way, placing his hand on where his heart was as lf reminiscing him of an old love song.
"Brother, you should have seen him. I was staring at him like you were staring at Eurydice when you two first met."
Orpheus made a strangled sound at the callout, immediately looking down in embarrassment while Hermes simply laughed at the boy's predicament.
"Come now! Orpheus!, there ain't nothing to be embarrassed about! I was just like you when I was your age.. though less timid and sheepish."
Orpheus stayed like that for a second, not moving an inch. Still embarrassed at the sudden callout.
"But! That's what Love is. Love is a tad bit embarrassing, yes sir...but that's the beauty of it ain't it?" Hermes said, confidence radiating off of him.
Orpheus' gaze flickers to Hermes, he didn't say anything. Just quietly agreeing.
"What did he look like?" Orpheus asked, curious.
Hermes chuckled as he continued: "Well! Let's see... if my memory serves correct—He had these.. striking beautiful green starry-eyes that could rival emeralds. Beautiful blonde curls, skin so delicate and soft you could almost mistake it for silk and a voice as sweet as honey."
His gaze slightly widened at the description but not only that. Orpheus noticed on how the way Hermes spoke of the man. so full of love and passion in his voice...
It instantly reminded Orpheus that his adopted father—the man who took him under his wing—Was once like him.
Full of naivety, full of hope yet unfortunately unknown to how cruel the world and The Fates could be.
"He sounds.. Beautiful." The poet murmured.
Hermes' smirk was replaced with a genuine smile at the praise, nodding in acknowledgment. "And that, he was."
"And lemme tell you, he was a real chatterbox too. Always sproutin' about some nonsense. Also, That man would request the same ol' drinks every time he came by but he was a great conversationalist nonetherless!"
The messenger sighed softly. Looking up towards the night sky with an almost sentimental gaze like he was remembering a rather fond memory.
"And there, that's where we hit it off." Hermes added. His voice no longer carrying a hint of tease.
Orpheus didn't interrupt. Listening to the next words carefully. intrigued by this new side of his caretaker he'd rarely see.
"We would have a few drinks here and there, a few quips and small talks that turned deep. Nothing special but with every talk and every quip, I fell in love with him more and more."
The poet's gaze softend at Hermes' words, noticing on how quieter he spoke, showing his rare vulnerability.
But here begged the bigger question.
"How.. how did he.. you know?—"
"Die?" Hermes finished.
Orpheus was taken back a bit at how fast Hermes knew on what he wanted to say before quickly recovering. "Yes.. how?"
The winged mentor huffed, resting his forearms on his knees.
If Orpheus could see closely, he noticed a flicker of.. shame and guilt across his face.
"I.." Hermes paused. Trying to choke out the words he wanted to say out loud. "I.. killed him." He admitted, shamefully so.
Orpheus' gaze widened at the confession. His jaw slightly widened before closing it. At a loss for words.
The two didn't say anything for a minute. The confession weighing heavily on the duo.
Until finally—Orpheus was the first to break.
"But, why?" He said, desperate to know.
Hermes sighed heavily. "It wasn't intentional: it was only meant to be a silly, innocent game of disc. We were both young and stupid afterall."
The poet could see on how much this has taken a toll on his caretaker—the sheer guilt, the silent burden of knowing you still have somebody's blood on your hands even after years have gone by.
A heavy beat passed.
"Crocus." Hermes suddenly said.
Orpheus arched a brow. "Huh?"
"His name was...Crocus." He muttered the last part like saying his name outloud would be more painful to hear.
"After.. that, I had to guide his soul to the train...I couldn't even bare looking into his eyes during the entire train ride."
Another beat. Yet this time it was heavier than the last.
There were so many things Orpheus wanted to say, so many questions lingering in the back of his mind yet the only thing he landed on was—
"I'm...sorry, I couldn't imagine on what that was like." Orpheus murmured.
Hermes waved a dismissive hand casually: "That was years ago, Orpheus. no point in sulking now."
"...Atleast, we have something in common. Right?" Orpheus assured or tried to, bumping Hermes in the shoulder with his.
he was never the best when it came to comforting people with words. Only the thing he was great at was using his guitar and reciting poetry.
Hermes stayed silent for a few seconds till a chuckle slipped from his lips. "Yes, I suppose we do have something in common then."
Orpheus smiled. It was a small change in behavior for sure but he felt proud of himself for managing to comfort somebody.
The two sat in silence—No longer tense nor awkward. Just peaceful for once and maybe.. gained a bit better mutual understanding of each other.
After a while, Hermes stretched his arms before slapping both of his knees, standing up now. "Welp! That's enough emotional baggage for one night. I'm feeling a bit thirsty for some wine. You wanna tag along, Orpheus?"
The poet shook his head at the offer. "No, I think.. I'll.. uh stay outside for a bit. Still need to practice."
The messenger casually shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets again. "Well, alright, suit yourself. But don't stay outside for too long. Would hate for the big artiste to get frost bite."
Orpheus snorted at the quip, watching as Hermes walked away and just as the poet was about to return to practicing.
He remembered something. Something he wanted to ask.
He quickly rose up from his seat on the porch: "Wait! Mister Hermes!" Orpheus called out.
Hermes paused at the entrance—looking over his shoulder to see the boy who seemed.. almost nervous to ask something. "Yes, Orpheus?"
The poet licked his lips, trying to force the question out of his throat. "Did.. did you ever stop missing him?"
Hermes' gaze softend at the question. staying silent for a brief moment then a soft snort—not teasing. Just.. something real.
"Oh brother," He said, voice laced with meaning and sincerity. "I never once did."
That relaxed something inside of Orpheus. An assurement he never knew he needed.
His shoulders now slumped after hearing the final answer from the messenger.
And—without saying a word, Hermes only smiled as a response before walking back inside the bar. faint cheers and greetings erupted for the messenger's return.
All the while, Orpheus simply stood there. alone, with a silver smile on his lips.
Perhaps.. him and Hermes weren't so different as he thought.
Perhaps.. they were just two sides of the same coin.