Taking Turns

The smell hit Craig before the apartment door had even swung all the way open.

Garlic.

Lemon.

Olive oil.

Something rich and herby that made his stomach remember it had not had a proper meal since breakfast.

For one fleeting second, Craig felt almost human again.

Then Euphrosyne swept through the doorway ahead of him, threw her arms wide, and announced, "We're home!"

Craig stepped inside behind her. The apartment looked almost exactly as he'd left it, which somehow made the evening feel stranger. The pink accents were still there. Floral dishes sat arranged neatly in the kitchen. His streaming equipment was visible beyond the living room, another reminder that none of the day's insanity had existed in isolation.

And he wasn't alone.

Thalia was standing near the kitchen island, overseeing what looked like an impossible amount of food. The tall redhead wore a flowing floral dress, and somehow her posture managed to be both regal and relaxed. She looked like someone who could walk into a banquet hall full of strangers and have everyone celebrating together within minutes.

Aglaea stood beside her.

Craig looked at her.

Then immediately looked away.

Looking directly at Aglaea felt like staring into sunlight reflecting off fresh snow. She was blonde, radiant and breathtaking in a way that went far beyond ordinary beauty. The light seemed to gather around her rather than merely fall across her. Craig's eyes actually watered when he tried to look at her for more than a second.

It wasn't desire. Not exactly. That was too simple a word. The sensation was stranger than that. It was the overwhelming awareness that beauty could exist in a form almost too perfect to process.

Between the three goddesses, there was an almost absurd contrast. Thalia looked like a woman who had arrived prepared to throw the best party anyone had ever attended. Aglaea looked like a divine being who had wandered out of a painting and decided mortal architecture was acceptable for the evening. Euphrosyne looked like she had personally won some kind of cosmic lottery and couldn't wait to tell everyone about it.

"You're back!" Thalia called.

"We're back!" Euphrosyne repeated unnecessarily.

"Obviously," Craig muttered as he shut the door behind them.

Euphrosyne ignored the sarcasm.

"Look at everything Thalia made!"

Craig did. The feast covered nearly every available surface. Platters of roasted meat sat beside bowls of salad scattered with feta and olives. There were warm triangles of spanakopita, piles of golden potatoes roasted with lemon, grilled vegetables glistening with oil, thick slices of pita, and little bowls of hummus, tzatziki and some kind of bright red pepper dip Craig couldn't identify. A whole fish rested on a serving platter surrounded by lemon slices and herbs. There were pastries waiting on another table, glossy with honey and dusted with crushed nuts.

It looked less like dinner and more like a celebration of culinary delights.

Craig stared at it.

"What is all this?"

"Food, silly," Euphrosyne said happily. "Dinner!"

"I can see that," he said, "but so much?"

"Thalia made it."

"I know how to throw a party." Thalia smiled as she spoke.

That, at least, sounded honest.

Craig's stomach growled. Euphrosyne pointed at him triumphantly.

"See?"

"Sit down, Craig. You've had a long day," Thalia said as she laughed. The kindness in her voice almost made him suspicious.

Still, Craig sat. Aglaea took the chair across from him. Euphrosyne dropped into the seat beside her. Thalia remained standing long enough to make sure everyone had food, then finally joined them.

For the first few minutes, Craig ate because there was food in front of him. He chewed because that was what you did after putting food into your mouth. He reached for whatever Euphrosyne pointed out because every attempt to make a decision felt like it required more energy than he had.

The food was incredible. That irritated him almost as much as everything else. The potatoes practically fell apart beneath his fork. The fish was tender and perfectly seasoned. The spanakopita was crisp and buttery. Every flavour seemed sharper than anything he'd normally have expected from his own kitchen.

"Good, right?" Euphrosyne asked.

"Very," he admitted, nodding.

Thalia smiled.

"I told you."

Euphrosyne leaned towards Craig.

"See? You're happier already."

Craig looked at her, barely able to process how disconnected she was from reality.

"No."

She blinked.

"No?"

"I'm fed," he said. "Not happy."

Thalia snorted.

Aglaea smiled faintly.

Craig caught the expression and immediately looked back at his plate before he could be overwhelmed by her beauty again.

He had spent the afternoon being turned into a fashion model, then spent what might have been weeks living inside movies while only minutes passed in the real world. His brain felt exhausted, except exhaustion wasn't quite the right word. He felt as though someone had taken his identity apart piece by piece, examined every component, and then casually put everything back together in a slightly different arrangement.

Food was probably supposed to help. The gods seemed to think so. And his body did need the nourishment. But iet wasn't his body that was suffering.

He could still remember the yellow road beneath his feet. The heat of Jabba's palace. The interrogation room. The impossible feeling of existing as people who weren't him. And worse, he could remember enjoying it. The admission he'd made back in the theatre still bothered him. He wasn't certain whether it bothered him because he'd enjoyed himself or because he'd been unable to deny it, unable to hold onto the truth of what he knew he should have felt despite what he actually felt.

Probably both.

Across the table, Euphrosyne was happily explaining why one particular dish was her favourite. Craig caught perhaps one sentence in five. His mind kept circling the same thought.

What the hell was happening to him?

The question had no answer. Not one he could reach, anyway.

Eventually his plate was empty. Eventually the conversation shifted. Eventually Euphrosyne noticed the dishes were piling up.

"Oh! We should clean."

Craig stared at her.

"We?"

"I'll supervise, of course."

She laughed and stood.

Craig gathered plates. The movement felt automatic. Carry them to the sink. Scrape leftovers into the bin. Rinse. Load the dishwasher. Wipe the table. Normal things. Stupidly normal things. Except that he was doing them wearing heels and a dress. Everything in his life seemed to be in flux, changing every day, sometimes every hour, yet somehow cleaning up after a dinner with three Greek goddesses had become a routine task.

At least it was preferable to being paraded around in front of his entire company.

Craig dried a plate and put it away. Thalia appeared beside him and took a stack of glasses from the counter.

"You can leave those," she said, placing a hand over his. "Mortals need their rest."

"I've got it."

"Craig," the gentle warning made him stop. Thalia nodded towards the living room. "Go sit down."

Craig stared at her, her hair an almost unnatural red. There was wisdom and intensity in her eyes, but something else. A playfulness that made him feel like she was watching him the way that a cat watches a bird. Part of him wanted to deny her the satisfaction, keep working, ignore her direction, but another part knew that resisting these three was useless. Their power was seemingly infinite, while he was just a man.

A man wearing lipstick.

Craig finished putting the plate he was holding away, then turned away from the task. Across the kitchen, Aglaea watched in silence. Craig began to feel dizzy as she looked through his defenses.

"You're very quiet," Euphrosyne said, shaking him from her sister's spell.

Without hesitation, he left the kitchen, Euphrosyne following behind him.

"I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

Craig nearly laughed. What a normal question. Why would a goddess care what was on his mind? Why would any of them want to be involved in his life in the first place? Nothing made sense anymore.

He flopped on the couch, leaned back, and crossed his legs at the knees. Euphrosyne sat beside him, her eyes on him studying, waiting.

But Craig's mind wasn't on what was around him. It was stuck on the predicament he'd found himself in. Eros. The fashion show. The movies. His job. The streaming contract. Frank. His body. His clothes. The increasingly absurd direction his life was taking. He wanted to stand up and scream. He wanted to run as far as his heels would let him. He wanted escape. He wanted freedom.

Instead, he said, "Today was a lot."

Euphrosyne sat closer, completely missing the tone in his voice.

"Tomorrow will be fun, too."

The words barely registered. Then Craig looked up and saw that the other two sisters had joined them in the room.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

Craig's stomach tightened. Before he could ask what she meant, Thalia exchanged a look with Aglaea. It was subtle. Craig noticed anyway.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" he asked.

"Oh, I will!" Euphrosyne said with a chuckle. "It's not my turn tomorrow."

"It's mine," Thalia said through her smile.

"I don't know why I can't have another day," Euphrosyne pouted. "Everything went great!"

"You need to be careful, sister," Thalia said. "Mortals aren't like us. If you work them too hard, they break."

"I was careful."

"No," Thalia said. "You were having fun. A lot of fun."

"Mortals are precious," Aglaea stepped closer as she spoke. "Not playthings. We need to nurture them, not exhaust them."

Euphrosyne crossed her arms.

"I know."

"Mortals don't experience reality as we do," Aglaea continued. "What feels playful to us can be overwhelming to them."

"They can be delightful, but they are a finite resource," Thalia added.

The words were so matter-of-fact that Craig looked at her. Euphrosyne's enthusiasm finally dimmed.

"I didn't hurt him."

"No," Thalia said. "But you frightened him. I can see it. He's good at hiding it, but it's there."

Craig froze. Euphrosyne glanced at him. For perhaps the first time all day, uncertainty crossed her face. Craig didn't know what to do with that. He wasn't accustomed to gods looking guilty.

Aglaea's gaze remained on her sister.

"The fact that he enjoyed himself does not mean there was no cost."

Craig swallowed. That sounded uncomfortably close to what he'd been thinking. Euphrosyne lowered her head.

"I know."

Thalia's expression softened.

"Then remember it."

Euphrosyne nodded.

"I will."

For a moment, Craig felt something dangerously close to relief. Maybe this was over. Maybe the conversation had finally shifted from Euphrosyne's games to something resembling concern. Maybe Aglaea and Thalia were going to rein their sister in. Maybe he could finally have one quiet night. The thought was so welcome that Craig almost allowed himself to believe it.

Then Thalia smiled.

"Besides, it's important that we share."

Craig looked at her.

"So for my turn," Thalia said, thoughtfully, "I believe we'll try something different."

"What?"

"My sister spent too much time with you playing dress up. In other people's clothes, or other people's lives, it's all the same. I think your own life could use a freshening up."

"I don't think..."

"Don't worry about that," Thalia said. "I'll spend the night thinking it all through. You can just relax and enjoy the ride."

Craig's mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

"I..."

"Don't thank me yet," Thalia said. "After tomorrow, everything will be so much better."

His eyes darted between the three goddesses. All held the same joyful conviction on their faces. Each was completely confident in Thalia's ability to deliver on her promise. Craig, on the other hand, wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

"Can I just go to bed?"

"Of course, darling," Thalia laughed. "You've had a long day, and you'll want to be well rested tomorrow."

Standing up and turning away from the sisters, Craig made his way down the hall. He stopped at his bedroom door. For a moment, Craig considered turning around. Maybe he should say something. Maybe he should ask Euphrosyne whether she understood how much today had affected him. Maybe he should ask Aglaea whether any of this was ever going to stop. Maybe he should ask Thalia exactly what she meant by "so much better." That last question was probably the most important.

Instead, Craig sighed.

The questions could wait. Tomorrow was apparently Thalia's problem. Tonight was his. He stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

The room was quiet. Safe, or as close to safe as anything in his life seemed anymore. Craig walked to his dresser. His sleepwear occupied one section. He stared at the drawers.

A few months ago, the idea that he'd stand in his bedroom deciding what lingerie to sleep in would have been absurd. Now it was simply another part of his evening routine. Craig rubbed his face.

"This is my life now."

The words sounded tired rather than angry. He opened the drawer. Bras and matching panties were arranged in neat rows. Craig sighed again and began deciding which set he was going to wear to bed.