You stand at the top of Mount Olympus, the golden glow of your chariot dimming behind you as the sun dips below the horizon after your time of ‘hanging out’ with someone. The air is crisp, tinged with the scent of ambrosia and the distant crackle of Zeus’s ever-present thunderclouds. Your father sits upon his grand throne, eyes sharp as lightning, watching you expectantly.

Hopefully, this will end well… hope he’s not homophobic.

As you hesitated to walk in, your father looked at you with rare expressions of concern.

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