They’d been sitting in their comfortable chairs for quite some time, enjoying the pleasures of luxury massages and peelings on their faces even more expensive than a three course menu at some fance restaurant. Anyway, she couldn’t care less about the money as she cared more for her fame, for the gossip around and the joys of life and Hemera. Instead she smirked at Hemeras words, clearly and audibly enjoying everything she said. Every time the two of them left to some expensice hideout at the beach or anywhere else, really, the goddess felt a special tranquility inside herself hiding behind a wall of self-absorbed, nosy and extrovert behavior which she rarely felt with someone else. Hemera remained the only person who could truly calm her down, even though she was like a tornado destroying everything in her wake once she got to tell everyone about the sad lives the gods lived. Even then, with her being a shining personality in the show business, while being a well known and loved show host, Hemera had ways of stopping her for once, of binding her to something she could on to next to her gossip.
“Oh honey let’s not talk about money right now. Like I care. You know you’re worth far far more than that. Expensive, my ass. I hope those are organic cuccumber slices, at least. Just the best for you, darling,” Pheme grinned at her best friend as she already looked at her with one eye, which was freed from the slice. “Oh, you mean Damian? Oh, you mean at the club? Oh damn, I believe his name was something like… Anton —- Anthony —- maybe? Honestly I got weak in no time. He had a freaking English accent, jeez. I would’ve taken you with me, but honestly I just wanted him for me, all alone.”
A smug smile spread across Hemera’s lips as she leaned back in the chair, her eyes shining with warmth as she watched Pheme. There was something about her friend that always made her feel so... At home. Or at least relaxed. For reasons unknown, Pheme seemed to be one of the few people in the world that Hemera did not have to put up an act around. Which was nice. Thus, a warm sense of belonging filled her chest as Pheme spoke.
Pushing the cucumber slice back over her eye, she let out a soft sigh and scooted back in the chair, making herself comfortable. “As long as they’re like... Locally grown,” Hemera responded replied after a few seconds and snorted quietly. Hemera was not Aglaea, and didn’t really care where her cucumbers came from. As long as they were green and cold. But she did like the idea of only getting the most expensive things, so she nodded after a few seconds, seemingly changing her mind. “You’re right. We deserve the best.”
When Pheme started talking about what she had gotten up to last night, Hemera tensed up. Just a little bit. It was not noticeable, but she could feel herself involuntarily clenching her jaw in anticipation. Shaking off the weird feeling, she gently lifted the cucumber slices off her eyes and handed them to one of the workers, before turning to Pheme. “Really... ? British?” she asked, voice breezy, light. Pretending not to give a fuck. Because she didn’t. “I thought we were here to fuck hot French guys.... Which, by the way, I totally did. After you left I had to find some way to keep myself... Busy.”
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