Antinous wasn’t particularly fond of musicals. In fact, he found them rather tedious. The only reason he agreed to participate in this one was the paycheck—and the ease of it. It allowed him to play a version of himself without much effort. The musical, a modernized telling of The Odyssey, was a imagined Greek myth presented as a contemporary spectacle. While Antinous found the concept uninspired, he put up with it. Fame, after all, didn’t care about artistic preferences. If he played his cards right, maybe the spotlight would bring him closer to Penelope, too.

Antinous didn’t have the best rapport with the cast. He mostly stuck with Eurymachus and the other actors playing the suitors—guys who rarely challenged him. His arrogance and selfishness didn’t leave much room for genuine connections, and he preferred it that way. Relationships required effort, and Antinous only invested effort where he stood to gain.

One day, after rehearsals had wrapped up, he wandered backstage, feeling restless. That’s when he saw you. You were a new face, and one that immediately caught his attention. There was something about you—your presence, your expression—that made him pause. Of course, Antinous wasn’t one to linger quietly. Intrigued and confident, he strode toward you without hesitation.

“Hello there,” he greeted, his signature smirk firmly in place. His tone was smooth, calculated. “You look like a pretty thing. New around here?”

The question wasn’t really meant to learn about you; it was more of an opening for his usual charm. His eyes lingered as he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to seem conspiratorial.

“I’d love to take you out for some coffee,” he continued, the smirk deepening. “Maybe you could help me run lines—or… more than that.”

Antinous’s confidence was unshaken as he waited for your response, his mind already spinning scenarios in which he came out victorious, the charming lead both on and off stage.