I know this chapter is short, but forgive me, my people! The next chapter will be a blast, I promise. That’s why this chapter is so shitty. It’s a filler. Hope you enjoy!
Love, Vanessa <3
Today I have a class with Apollo, and Victoria suggested I write my feelings down to give them a name and reduce their power. I don’t believe in that logic because names are powerful. Ask the fae, they know best.
I’m scared. I’m scared I’ve hurt him too much. I’m scared I’ve broken him into pieces and he’s never going to come back. Most of all, I’m scared I’ll never be able to get over the guilt of it. I ran away from him. He kissed me, and I ran away. Granted, it felt wrong, and he wasn’t my real soul mate, but after all he’s done, he didn’t deserve it.
I can’t help but wonder what will happen here on forth. Zeus has a wife, and if I am his betrothed, won’t she see me as an enemy? What about the meeting on Sunday? I don’t know, I’m just… I’m scared. So, so scared. I want to move forward, but I’m scared that everything I left behind will burn to the ground. I’m scared I won’t miss my past life. That I’ll actually enjoy being Queen. At the same time, I’m scared I’ll lose everything I’m being promised.
The ball is out of my court. The arrow has been released. The gun has been shot. It’s no longer in my control. And I hate that. So much.
I kept my head down and kept noting down everything the teacher said without actually listening to him. I knew he was hurt, and I didn’t know how to react to that. I just decided to stay out of his way… I didn’t want to hurt him any more than I already had.
He distributed the papers wordlessly today. He didn’t quip about how badly everyone had done, so people just assumed we had done well. After all, no news is good news, right?
I nodded without meeting his eyes when he set my paper on my desk. As usual, there were multiple sticky notes and page markers, all in yellow. Unlike most teachers, he put the grade at the very end of the essay so you were forced to read all his comments before you could get to how much you received.
Or you could just skip to the last page.
But I didn’t. I read every comment he had highlighted with his purple pen—yes, as an art major I recognized purple and yellow were opposites, and that amused me—and predicted I would get… maybe a B. He was being more critical than usual.
However, on the last page, I saw a large pink sticky note (you know, the ones which look like notebook pages) and he had written something on it. Afraid anyone would see, I ripped it off and stuffed it into my pocket before I saw my grade.
I got an A plus. Next to it, he had written, ’Next time, submit the essay with your own opinions. Opinionated people, especially those that can back their opinions with facts, should always share their thoughts. I expect an A star from you.’
Just that simple sentence had me emotional. He was willing to lose a bet… for me, and I still wasn’t able to feel for him as a soul mate. What had I done wrong? A wave of guilt went over me, and I stood up, taking my things and leaving my paper on the table. I had to leave before I started crying or worse, had a panic attack.
He said nothing when I slammed the door behind me, running into the girls’ bathroom. I sat in the stall and bent down from the sheer stress of this situation. Apollo was a nice guy, and he cared for me. why did the kiss feel so wrong? Why couldn’t I touch him without a million fireworks—of the wrong kind—going off in my head?
The simple answer to everything. I remember when I had my first panic attack and he touched me. He felt like a warm fire on a snowy day. Like a warm cup of tea while a torrent brewed outside (although, ironically, he was probably the reason behind said torrent).
Was it fair to Apollo not to give him an explanation?
No, it wasn’t. But I couldn’t tell them, they told me not to. Who were they anyway?
I put my hands in my pocket, drawing out the note he had written me.
Ana, it said.
I’m not stupid. It took me little time to realise the prophecy was bullshit, especially after finding out there was a similar prophecy which was supposedly about you which had something to do with a mistaken lover. I thought it was Zeus at first, because that’s who Eros predicted for you before he changed it to me because of the prophecy, but I realised it was me all along. Listen, dear. I’m sorry I made you go through so much pain on my account, but honey, we weren’t meant to be, and the pain… I suppose it was. I hope Zeus is proud of what a lovely betrothed he has, and I do hope I’ll find mine soon. Eros’ marks mean nothing when the Moirai exist, after all.
I love you, just not in the way I was supposed to. x Apollo.
I tore the note into pieces and threw it into the trash, taking my bag and leaving the stall. Mum was a constant in my life before I cut her off, Apollo was a constant in my life before this happened, and now I’m all alone. Sure, I have Tori and… well, Hermes, kinda, but I’m still unmistakably alone.
I reapplied my lipstick and straightened my back. I was stronger than my circumstances. I was going to go to that meeting this Sunday and lay out my non-negotiable terms, and then, I was going to take my throne. I had no reason to study past this year anyway, I had eons to live and a world to run.