Sorrow's Muse

by Colt, Shyla

  “How is that possible when he doesn’t know who I am?”

  “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To figure out a way to go down to Earth, live as a human and be with him. Am I correct?”

  “Yes.” A weight seemed to lift from her shoulders as she shared the burden of truth. Keeping it in had begun to eat her from the inside out with every passing day.

  “Why come to me and not Eros?”

  “I know he’s your son, and I love him dearly, Dite. I don’t always trust him with matters of the heart, though. It’s a game to him.”

  “You’re right.” Dite sighed. “He doesn’t love love the way I do. But he’s young, still learning and never met his match. You have to completely surrender to love to fully grasp its power.” A sly smile appeared on her face. “I have it on good authority his time is coming.”

  Colette wanted to ask more, but time was ticking down, and she felt anxious to know what, if anything Aphrodite could do. “Will you help?”

  “Because I truly believe you and Julian are soul mates, I can grant you the chance to go down to Earth and get him to fall in love with you. In the end, it’ll be his choice, and if he says no...you know the rules. ”

  “Yes, I have to continue my service as his Muse for the rest of his life.”

  Aphrodite nodded. “Having said that, I need to remind you Julian is not your average thirtysomething male. He’s been hurt his entire life, doesn’t trust easily and honestly believes love is something he will never experience.”

  The words solidified her decision. “How long would I have?”

  “A year for him to reach his decision, knowing the truth about who you are and that choosing love would mean the end of your influence on his talents.”

  “What happens if he chooses love?”

  “Then you can live your life as a human for the duration of Julian’s life span, or if Zeus permits, you can offer him ambrosia and extend his life.”

  “How will I survive in the modern world? I have no money or job…or talent.”

  “I will take care of all that, little Muse.”

  “Tell me what I need to do,” she whispered.

  Aphrodite beamed, and Colette swore the sun shone a bit brighter.

  “I’m placing you in an Aphrodite-approved condominium with everything you’ll need, from clothing to identification. You’ll find a scrying mirror, so you can contact anyone in Olympus or on Mount Helicon. That way you can continue your musing. Think of it as a working vacation.”

  Colette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It’s now or never. “I’m ready.”

  “Good. Focus on Julian.” Aphrodite snapped her fingers, and the world begin to spin around her.

  Colette closed her eyes tight, picturing his vibrant hazel eyes. A cool breeze circled around her, ruffling her dress. Her body tingled and a strange feeling of weightlessness came over her. A buzz began in her ears. Her stomach protested as dizziness hit, throwing her off balance. She swayed, balling her fists, digging her nails into the fleshy meat of her palms to stay grounded and keep the contents of her stomach in place.

  “Relax, Colette, you’ll be just fine,” were the last words she registered as unconsciousness took her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Julian glanced at his watch and swore. I need to get going. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his apartment before the sun went down, but with Paul’s busy schedule, he had no choice about when the appointment needed to be.

  I should be pleased. Paul was his manager as well as his friend. Being busy meant his career was going strong. Julian loved being able to share his work with the world, but public appearances and promotions weren’t an option. The damage done by the fire was too gruesome. As a songwriter, they were supposed to be a necessary evil, but he’d chosen to buck the system and go the harder route. Without promotion, his career had moved at a snail’s pace, but his soul remained intact.

  He agreed to meet the artists he worked with because bonding with them was a part of the creative process. When he was writing a song for someone, it helped to know whom they were and what they were about.

  The other appearances he flat-out refused, even going so far as to write it in his contract. It would only cause pain and anguish to put himself in front of the press. He ran his fingers down the scarred and misshapen skin that made children point and stare, women gasp and avert their eyes, and men cast him pitying gazes.

  He used to waste time being upset about it, but now, he simply felt tired. If he could make himself completely invisible to others, he would.

  Others told him he should be proud of surviving the horrific fire that should’ve taken his life, always spouting a bunch of bull about remaining positive and ignoring what negative people had to say.

  He would nod and act like he agreed, but continued to live the way he saw fit. Unless people existed in his reality, they couldn’t possibly understand what it felt like.

  Julian wasn’t ashamed of his scars, but he hated having to explain how he got them, and the reactions they invoked. Society was shallow these days. In a world where obese people were ostracized, he was a freak to the fifth power. Covered from head to toe in the remnants of fourth-degree burns that had almost taken his life, he was going sour like a carton of milk left too long in the refrigerator. If he weren’t one of the top songwriters working right now, he wasn’t sure where he’d be. The money he made allowed him anonymity he’d never ever dreamed about as he traveled from orphanage to foster home and back between surgeries.

  He placed the black fedora on his head and walked to the door. A light cardigan covered his marred arms, and his chin-length light brown hair provided him with a buffer that kept people from looking too close, depending on their nearness.

  The temperature was in the mid-seventies, with a slight breeze to take the edge off before it got too warm. The weather was one of the many reasons Julian loved the San Diego Bay area. The city ran at a much slower pace than L.A., but was close enough for artists to drive or fly to him.

  When he was just starting out, he’d made the move to L.A. It became one of the loneliest periods of his life. If it hadn’t been for his angel, he would have left before he made the connections he needed and gained enough clout and clients to make the move back to his hometown. Just the thought of the woman who lived in his memory was enough to make him smile.

  He could still hear her voice as clearly today as he had all those years ago when he lay in the hospital room fighting for his life and in excruciating pain. She promised she would be with him every step of the way, and to date, she’d kept that vow. She’d never spoken another word to him, yet he felt her presence.

  She became the comforting weight that boosted his confidence, strengthened him in times of weakness and eased the empty cavern left by a lack of romance and scarce interpersonal relationships. He liked to think she would be proud of the things he’d accomplished and the man he’d grown to be.

  God, listen to yourself, sounding like some lovesick sap still waiting for his dream girl to materialize out of thin air.

  Even if the voice had been a concoction his pain-fueled three-year-old brain dreamed up, it kept him going on the days he wanted to give up.

  He reached the restaurant and went inside. The maître d’ offered a smile. “Welcome back, Mr. Sorrow. Your usual table is ready, and your party has already arrived.”

  “Thanks, Robert.”

  He liked Black Tie, he’d been coming here for years, and they always treated him with respect. Robert led him around the corner to a private alcove where Paul sat perusing the menu.

  Paul’s head popped up as he approached the table.

  “Thanks, Robert,” Julian said. He took a seat across from Paul at the square table just big enough for two.

  “You’re welcome, sir. Enjoy your dinner.” Robert walked away.

  Paul leaned in to speak with his voice lowered, “How you doing, Jay?” Paul was one of the very few who called him Jay.

&n
bsp; Julian sighed.

  Paul was the only family he had, which meant he pried. They’d been placed in the same foster home in high school and formed a bond that withstood the test of time. There was no one else he’d trust with his money.

  “Same as always this time of year.”

  Paul frowned. “You need to see someone—”

  “Been there, done that. As long as I’m not ready to jump out of a window or something, the grief is normal—they all agreed.” He averted his eyes.

  When the anniversary of the fire came around, he always felt raw and undeserving. Why should he not only survive the fire, but find fame and fortune while his parents and his sister had perished? He might never know the answer to that question. It became one of the things that drove him to spread positivity, hope and love to the world through his music. His way of giving fate the finger. Julian feigned interest in the menu in his hands. He could feel Paul’s heated gaze on him.

  The waiter arrived to take their order before conversation could begin. Julian ordered steak, mid-well, with a Caesar salad and a loaded baked potato.

  Paul ordered fettuccine Alfredo. “How you been?”

  Julian set down the menu and smirked. “Since last Wednesday when I saw you? I’m fine, working on a new song.”

  “What? I worry.”

  “I know, Dad. I told you, Paul, I’m okay. It sucks, and I will always be gutted about what happened to my parents, but if there’s one thing we know how to do, is to keep moving.”

  “True.” Paul released a deep breath, his body relaxed, and he slumped in his chair. “Um, Jay? Do you want me to go with you to their grave site?”

  Julian paused. “You know, I think I’m going to go it alone this time.” It almost seemed like a tradition the two always went together, but this time he wanted to go solo.

  Paul’s eyebrows disappeared beneath the fringe of his shaggy dirty-blond hair. His dark blue eyes were wide and full of surprise. He fell silent for a moment, and then he nodded. “You know where I am if you need me.”

  “I do.”

  The waiter returned with their drinks as the serious moment was lightened. Paul took a sip of his Coke and cleared his throat. “I called this meeting because I received a career-changing call yesterday evening. Rocco Stone wants to work with you exclusively on his second album.”

  Julian’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  “Wow—he’s the hottest name out there now in the pop industry! Everyone is waiting to see what he’s going to do for his sophomore album.”

  “I know. He loves your work, and he’s confident you’ll make sure he doesn’t fall into the sophomore slump category like so many others have.”

  Julian shook his head in awe. Is this really happening?

  “This has the potential to put you on a whole other level, Jay. You’ll kill the album. I’m not worried about that. Music is what you do best. They said they had a few other people in mind, but it could’ve been a scare tactic.”

  “You want to make them sweat it out?” Julian asked.

  “Yeah, and to make sure we don’t seem desperate. This would solidify your genius and staying power.”

  “You seem uncertain. Why didn’t you say yes on the spot?”

  “Rocco is a high-profile client. I can’t guarantee the press won’t be out trying to catch a glimpse of him and capture you. We both know that would lead to reporters digging into your past and airing whatever information they could get their greedy little hands on.”

  Julian lowered his head. He’d known this day would come, when his reclusiveness would clash with the world he worked in. A knot twisted in his stomach and pulled taut.

  “They want to shop around before they commit to anything, so you have time to decide. I’m behind you whatever you do, Julian. But between me and you, this is the kind of opportunity that might not come again for years, if ever.”

  Julian felt relieved when their appetizers arrived. It gave him a respite from conversation. The rest of the night was spent in the company of his best friend. They were able to work and remain friends because they knew how to keep the two worlds separate. Some bleed over was unavoidable, but they managed it.

  “All right, let me know what you decide.”

  “I will.”

  Paul patted him on the shoulder, and they went their separate ways outside the restaurant. Paul would go home to his stunning petite brunette girlfriend and a two-story home with four bedrooms and two and a half baths. Julian would return to his empty condominium. Granted, it was nice, but nothing replaced people.

  The air seemed chilly in the twilight that settled as the orange globe sank down into the horizon. He shoved his hands into the pockets of cardigan. Julian loved Paul like a brother, and after the life they’d both lived, he’d never begrudge him the happiness he’d found. He just wished he could find a little bit of it for himself, outside of his career.

  Stick to your music, Sorrow. It’s all you have to offer anyone.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Colette groaned. She cracked open her eyes. Bright light assaulted her and she grimaced. She lifted her hand up to shade her sensitive retinas and moaned. Her whole body ached. Her stomach continued to do somersaults while she concentrated on swallowing the saliva, gathering in her mouth, breathing in and out. If this is the equivalent to what a hangover felt like, she didn’t know why people drank.

  On Olympus and Mount Helicon, intoxication wasn’t possible. Still, she’d seen the aftereffects enough to know the symptoms when she experienced them. The first thing she noticed, other than the plush feel of the carpet beneath her, was the light blue color of the high vaulted ceilings. Pretty. When the nausea subsided, she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

  The walls were done in the same robin’s-egg blue of the ceiling, set off by white trim here and there. She saw a couch and a love seat done in an off-white with blue flowers. The end tables and cocktail table were also an off-white. The place had a vintage shabby chic feel she adored.

  Leave it to Dite to make sure she was living in style. Curious about the rest of the home, as well as her new identity, Colette got to her feet. She ran her hands over the soft fabric of the couch as she explored. She’d never had a space of her own before. It seemed ridiculously quiet. Yet, she welcomed the peace. No hustle and bustle, gossiping, giggling, or moaning, in some cases. Being a Muse felt like belonging to a sorority at times, albeit one full of highly intelligent and talented women.

  The more she discovered, the faster she fell in love with her new home. It was everything she could’ve wanted. She spotted a slender, rectangular black pocketbook on the counter in the kitchen and rushed to it.

  Now to find out who I am.

  She opened the purse and smiled at the envelope. Dite had thought of everything.

  Hello love,

  Here’s a summary of who you are. Your name is Colette Starvos, and you come from a wealthy family in Greece. You’ve been in California for the past ten years because you love the weather, it’s easy to fly international and you needed space from your overprotective, traditional, and stifling family to figure out what you truly wanted to do. You love the arts, but you aren’t sure where your niche lies. Sometimes, it’s best to stick close to the truth. Everything you need is in this purse: license, credit cards, back account information, a visa and a copy of your birth certificate. Just in case, you find a job that tickles your fancy. This is your first time on Earth, so if you have any questions, feel free to contact me. I’ve rigged your smartphone to dial in to me directly. You’ll find all of us programmed in.

  Good luck,

  xoxo,

  Dite

  Colette looked over the paperwork and memorized the important facts. Now, she needed to figure out where she was. She glanced down at the white Grecian gown and smiled. This wouldn’t do.

  Fifteen minutes later, she wore a pair of black tights, knee-high black lace-up boots and a white shirt
with a black heart in the center grazing the top of her thighs. She walked out the front door in two steps, looked to the left, and froze. Less than two doors down was Julian’s front door.

  Oh, Dite, you are good. Her palms grew clammy, and her body tingled as anticipation built inside her.

  Soon, she’d be able to see him in person. It’d been thirty long years since she was on the same planet as Julian Sorrow. Everything was riding on this. What if he didn’t fall in love with her? Happiness turned to terror. The flutters in her stomach went from tickling to disturbing. Her mouth dried out.

  Soft footfalls fell behind her, and she turned to see the man in question approaching. Short of dashing into her place like a lunatic, she couldn’t avoid an introduction without seeming rude or, God forbid, disgusted.

  Her temples, throat, and carotid artery pulsed. She licked her lips.

  His eyes were trained on the ground in front of him, as was his habit.

  A twinge of regret ran through her. She wanted to build up his self-esteem and open his eyes to the beauty he possessed, not only on the inside, but on the outside. Every time someone had shunned him for his looks over the years, she’d wished to be a Harpy, so she could swoop down and attack them with her talons and her teeth. Her body trembled.

  Colette opened her mouth to say hello. All that came out was a strangled gasp. Mortified, heat set her face aflame. She ducked her head and walked back to her door in a brisk clip. Please don’t let him have noticed. Had she ruined her chances? A swift glance back at him told her she hadn’t.

  He continued on his walk, undisturbed.

  She pushed the door to her condo open, slammed it shut and slid down to sit on the floor. What the hell had she been thinking coming down here? How could she get him to love her when she couldn’t manage a simple hello? Aphrodite will know what to do!

  Colette dashed to the vanity in her room where Aphrodite placed the scrying mirror, sat on the bench and leaned forward. “Dite!”

  The mirror shimmered, the images in it wavering, then Aphrodite’s face appeared. “Hello, love, glad to see you made it okay. Sorry about the trip. It’s always a bit rough.”