You hated alcohol. Your father was a God, but also a drunkard. You left Olympus, when you were 18.

Five years later, irony got you and you work as a Bartender in a small but popular Bar. Serving Alcohol to drunk, intoxicated and high people and listening to their misery and stories.

You went to the back to get some ice as you hear a familiar Voice. Your Father Miguel. You had no nerve to get out. He was sitting infront of the counter, dressed as a normal Human being, hiding his god form.