Cupid, the son of Aphrodite, is the little boy with a bow and arrow. He is responsible for matching and choosing the perfect partner for another, and with the help of his magical arrow enchanted by a love-binding spell, making human’s fall in love with another comes easy.
The thing is human beings think that there’s only one cupid out there, they’re actually a lot more than humans think. Well, blame their mother for being the hottest, sexiest Goddess out there. No man can resist her charm, not even a terrifying, beastly werewolf, which explains why one of the cupid’s looks like a mountain man with raging testosterone levels.
Nevertheless, their main purpose in life has to be done and fulfilled. To make humans continuously fall and feel love, as to keep God’s best creation living and multiplying. Just that sometimes, cupids make mistakes.
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Cupid pulls on the nock of the arrow, stretching the bow’s golden string as he spots the right angle to hit his next target. He flies and swoons from left to right to follow the fair maiden as she continues to move on and about, it has been a hard to capture this target, and thankfully, the humans can’t see him flying around the city to follow a single lassie, or else, the dark ages –when cupids and wizards, demigods were mistaken as witches, they were hunted down and burnt alive- might come again. And he doesn’t want that.
“Please, lassie… Give this tired ol’ cupid rest…” The little cupid whined, outstretching his hands once more, in wee hope that the woman he’s been following will take a break and sit down. “URGH! There she goes again!” He grunted and whined as he relaxed his arms after the woman began to pace forward once more. Quite frankly, he was getting tired of this. Oh he wished that his leprechaun father didn’t choose to elope with such a promiscuous Goddess like his mother, days like these makes his chubby hands shake and his puny wings tired of flapping and moving all day.
Again and again, he followed his target unceremoniously, well, no one could blame the poor guy, he has been stuck on the same target all day and the woman that he’s after doesn’t even look a bit tired. He stops for a moment, his cute and not-so majestic wings stop fluttering, and for a moment he lets himself rest on a cloud to take a bite from the delicious unleavened bread that he kept inside his pocket.
“Such a long and tiring day, and I haven’t reached the quota yet… Mother would surely not be smiling at me on this day…” He sighed softly as he chewed on his food leisurely, and while he rids himself from the tiring goose-chase, an opportunity came his way.
Finally, FINALLY! The tireless woman sat down.
With no hesitation he yanks both bow and arrow, and he postures into triggering the arrow to shoot. He locks into his target as if he’s facing a bear on a hunt, and then… He let’s go of the arrow’s nock.
But then…
“Oh no!” Cupid shrieked when a young man abruptly ran adjacent to the arrow’s direction, and he gasped as if air was sucked out of his lungs when the arrow connected to the young man’s body. “Oh please look at a woman… I don’t care who you look at lad, just please! For my wee head, look at a pretty young lassie!”
However, to his dismay, the young man looked at another man who was carrying a 15x20 canvas and a set of painting materials.
“I’m doomed… I’m doomed!” He shouted and shrieked while he ran around at the tiny cloud’s borders. His target and mission has been compromised. And this will come out as ugly as before, and he doesn’t want that, does he? His mother will be furious! Oh, may Aphrodite spare his soul! “Oh, creator help me! Don’t tell me he really looked into that man!”
Again, it’s too late to mourn, because now he can see the beaming sparks of red radiating from the man’s left chest.
"Oh... Mother will be much disappointed!" Cupid roared in aggravation, oops... he did it again... Another mistake... Not just because he has pierced the wrong target, but because his target spotted a man, and no, the receiver of the arrow is not a woman.
In mere seconds, Cupid jumped out of the cloud and spread out his wings to glide above the city. He has to find and warn that poor young man, because if he doesn’t do anything about it, the poor boy will be stuck in a pitiful one-sided love forever.
“Where are you, you little prick?!”
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Chris Garmr, he’s another one of the College boys with a degree plastered and glued on his transcript of records. Graduating with flying colors, the valedictorian in class, the almighty Dean’s Lister, in short, he’s the son of a bitch in the university whom the students either loves or hates. Plus, with his incredibly good looks and intimidating height, no one was able to shine like the way he did. Oh he was born lucky and walks with luck alright. And now he’s on his way for an interview at the embassy at exactly 9AM. And being the kind of man who’s fairly raised with proper manners and right conduct, he’s not the type to make men or women alike wait for him.
And although he’s all that sparkling shit and all that jazz, he’s the type of guy whose stomach is more in control than any parts of his body. And because he ungracefully woke up at 7AM, and from his home, it takes a tiring 30 minutes commute just to get to the city, you can fairly imagine that the only thing he accomplished that morning was the relevant shower, flimsy and awkward… more or less unorganized pulling and tugging, grabbing of needed documents, next to the ungraceful shoving of the said documents in his briefcase… So he really has no time for breakfast now, does he?
But, fuck everything! Right? This is Chris Garmr! The only and superior Chris Garmr! And he’s so awesome that he can make time for anything.
Therefore, right after he saw the side vendor, pushing a cart filled with bread and steamed hotdog at the nearest mundane park, he couldn’t resist the grumbles and curses of his raging, acid-filled, gluttonous stomach. So he runs, with the grace of a wild hyena.
“Wait, Ma’am! Please wait for me! I’d like to buy some of those hotdogs!” He shouted ever so loudly that it made some of the sitting individuals look at him amusedly, wide eyed and raised eyebrows, amongst other expressions, but he doesn’t give a shi--- about that. Though he stopped almost midway on his way to the hotdog cart when he felt a strong gush of air against his clothes, stopping him on his tracks when he felt the continuous gush, followed by the strong tingling sensation on his upper left chest, the location on his body where his heart rested.
He looked around him as he raised his right hand to place it on his left chest. He eyes everything, but misses everyone’s faces, until he sees him. His gaze remained particularly on the other young man before him, with the said man looking back at him with such an expressionless stare. He noted that the other man was carrying a heavyset bag full of painting materials, and he was also holding up a medium sized canvas.
He mused that the other man is still in his age range, and his dirty and paint filled clothes gives away his bluntly stated profession. And he wonders why he’s staring so much, looking at every detail that he could see and make out.
“Young man, if you don’t hurry, your hotdogs will get cold!” The cart owner’s voice collapsed Chris from his staring contest with the man. He made a hundred and eighty degrees turn to the hotdog cart, not even minding to give a smile on the latter.
Soon enough, they part ways, with no hope or plan in mind to see each other again.
Oh God, if they only knew what’s in store for ‘em.
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Chris smiles to the high Heavens while he searches his pocket for the keys in his apartment. The interview went well as planned, and he can proudly say that the interviewer looked pleased and amazed with his answers, including the marks and records on his transcript. Also, a worker there who’s three years his senior just flirted with him, and talked about his luck. The said woman is single and hopefully she’ll be his trainer. “Oh, nothing could possibly be wrong on this perfectly fine day!” The young man sang melodiously in a happy and giddy tune as he fit the key to the doorknob.
He then threw his suitcase on the sofa, walked towards his bedroom and slowly, leisurely he took off his clothes for his nightly warm shower.
“Oh what a perfect day it is indeed!”
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Cupid gasped and breathed out so loud and hard, it’s as if he was running a 26k marathon the whole day. The young man whom he has been following is far more restless and energetic than his previous target. Well, who wouldn’t be as tired as him? He followed the man to his long-ass interview, his lunch break schedules and even on the said lad’s nauseating meeting with a girl who wears awful lot of make-up.
“Oh my, I’m getting old.” He moaned in utter exhaustion, his hand resting against his heaving chest to feel his raging heartbeat, while his other one rests on his tired and shaky hips. He’s still flying and trailing behind Chris, yes, now he knows the young man’s name. Actually he heard it coming from the woman who this man was previously talking to. And he’ll never forget that girl though, her red lipstick made her look like a who----
Then Chris stopped, as well as making Cupid’s thoughts cease for a brief moment. His eyes glittered in excitement when the young man whispered about going home as he talks to some stranger on his phone, and when he realized that they were near Chris’s apartment, he sang with the boy’s singing, though his song composed of whines and curses, and minimum praises for his awful fate.
It took them a couple of short minutes to get inside the apartment though, and as he heard the mortal say shower and bed in the same sentence, he figured that he might as well cut to the chase and just get on with it. But he’ll do that right after the boy takes his shower though. What?! He’s a good little cupid and he doesn’t want to scare the young man into a coma. So he waits, ever so impatiently, again, with his forehead creasing as he crosses his arms against his chest, kind-of waiting.
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Steam gushes out from the door while he steps out of the showering room, and Chris hums a quiet melody while drying his hair with his used towel, and yes, right now he’s all butt-naked inside his apartment, leaving a wet trail from his bathroom to his bedroom.
He stretches his long arms and legs right before he throws himself to his bed, he prefers to sleep naked, by the way. He mused that he’s more comfortable this way.
“Kid, yah, are you asleep?” A raspy voice with thick Irish accent wavered in his ears that it’s as if someone is whispering to him, bringing the young man to a sudden jolt after hearing the same question, but this time it was accompanied by a quirky laugh.
“What the…” He quickly bemused, his eyebrows raised so high that it’s hidden under his bangs.
“I’m here…” He heard it again from the side, and then he felt a quick turn of movement happening behind him, making him feel another strong waft of wind on his back.
“Who are you?!” He screamed, and just like the logical person that he is, he repeatedly brings up to himself that no ghost is inside his apartment, because if there ever was he would’ve been haunted by it months ago. “Show yourself!” But even after saying that, I’m here just constantly ringing throughout his apartment. Until…
“Lad, do turn around.” Chris’s eyes widened to the sight. A fat baby faced midget with wings on his back, dressed in a white tunic and a bow and arrow was clinging onto his right shoulders. A cupid. A real, fucking, cupid is flying inside his apartment. He has seen this before on television. A fucking cupid is in front of him, and now the thing is smirking at him… And is looking at his…
“Laddie, put on some pants… Seriously, I can see your tinky-winky up close… It’s not purdy…”
This can’t be! No way! A cupid? No!
He’s sweating cold sweat like crazy, and he’s hyperventilating. He can see the blurry outstretched hand of the midget in front of him. Then suddenly, with a gasp, BLACK OUT.