Apollo’s home on Olympus was rarely occupied. He found sleeping in one of his temples much more practical. No need to travel back and forth for work.

He couldn’t bring his date up anyway. So, resting with a woman on his arm it was.

He could hear the winds outside. A cricket chirping. The sudden gust of wind. A bird flying off. Another gust of wind.

The last noise was the worst of all. Out-of-tune music.

Apollo sat up and went to investigate Hermes’ room. After detaching his arm from his lovely court for the night.

A trip down the dim hall. Apollo didn’t knock. He walked right into Hermes’ room.

What did Hermes say? Nothing. He wasn’t there. Just as Apollo thought.

Out the window, a guitar strummed. Whoever was playing didn’t know how to tune it. And it was driving Apollo up the wall.

Physically, it led him to the roof. Next to Hermes. Where he snatched the guitar and tuned it in 6 seconds.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Apollo asked.

“Can’t sleep.”

Apollo gave the guitar back, “I can see that. I meant why? Or do you want to be exhausted for your presentation?”

Hermes tried to make a tune as he sat. Not a song he’d heard before. A slow improvisation.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, let’s talk about your fingers,” Apollo snapped, and a golden guitar came into his grip. “They’re supposed to be here, and here.”

Hermes mirrored Apollo’s hands. Immediately, playing became easier. He still wasn’t in sync, but it was a start.

“You’re still playing it like a lyre. Here, look,” Apollo sat down right next to Hermes.

He could’ve turned right around. Gone back to bed. But that would’ve meant hearing the distant sounds of wrong notes. Or letting someone who wanted to learn music fail without realizing it. Worst of all, Hermes would’ve been left alone with his thoughts.

By sunrise, Hermes hadn’t mastered the guitar. But his playing had attracted a few birds. Some hopped to the beat.

“It’s like an instinct then?” Apollo asked.

Their latest discussion was on Hermes’ ability to control animals.

“Basically.” Hermes said, “It’s like they're speaking another language. But, even if someone is speaking a different language, you know when they’re angry or happy or sad. So it’s more: I know what they need to hear. And playing music helps translate what I want them to do.”

Apollo assumed as much. He knew that Maia was a forest nymph. That was enough of an explanation.

“Were you always sunny?” Hermes asked.

Apollo raised a brow. Just one motion to ask ‘are you joking’.

“Hey. You’ve spent all night asking me stuff about my powers. It’s my turn.”

“Please tell me you know what an epithet is,” Apollo tested.

“My mom said it was a title given to gods for whatever achievement they did.”

Apollo exhaled and explained, “I was blonde like King Zeus. I received godhood, and now I’m ‘sunny’.”

“Did you get the sun tan too?”

“I’ve always had my mother’s skin,” Apollo answered.

Hermes chuckled, “I guess Father likes darker women.”

Apollo’s chuckle was almost identical to Hermes’. Obviously with more bass.

“What’s he like?” Hermes asked. “Is he, you know, nice?”

“King Zeus?” Apollo confirmed.

Sarcastically, “No, Lord Ares.”

Apollo grinned, “Big muscles and a small brain. Although, he’s reliable in a pinch and will fight until he collapses before he quits.”

Hermes rolled his eyes, “And father?”

“You’ve met him.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know him.”

Apollo heard the slowed playing. The birds chirped less. He saw Hermes' wings flatten.

“I know him as the king. The way everyone else does. I know that he’s got you and Lady Artemis. Lords Ares & Hephaestus. Ladies Eris & Athena. But, I don’t know if he wants another kid.” Hermes stopped playing, “I don’t know if he actually…wants me.”

Apollo didn’t have to think long for an answer. Because he told the truth.

“You’re worrying over hypotheticals.”

“Hypno-what?”

Apollo broke it down easy, “You’re concerned over what might be instead of what is. And the severity of it is causing you to have mild anxiety. You’re letting fear dictate your feelings. A baseless fear that falls apart when you realize it won’t change anything.”

Hermes wasn't as happy as could be. But he breathed a little easier. Once he processed the paragraph of information.

“Huh, I guess you’re right,” Hermes admitted.

“I’m a god. Of course I’m right.”

Apollo rose to his feet. With him, the sun finally passed the horizon. It was the beginning of a new day.

“Go get some sleep,” Apollo ordered. “There’s no point in you being fatigued when we visit Olympus.”

“Oh come on! I’m not tired.” Hermes stood up. Slipped on a shingle. And almost fell off the roof.

Apollo caught him, and the guitar. He stepped off the roof with Hermes.

“What’re you about to do?” Apollo asked.

Reluctantly, “Go to sleep.”

End