Jayden wasn't sure when his life had become a surreal blend of breakfast food, sparkly goddesses, and heart palpitations that had nothing to do with caffeine. Maybe it was when Vera first appeared in his room, swearing on the bones of forgotten stars. Maybe it was yesterday, when three other goddesses crashed brunch like it was their divine right.
But now? Now it was Monday. And he had to go to work.
"Yes, I know you're basically immortal," he muttered while brushing his teeth, "but some of us have bills, Vera."
She was sitting cross-legged on his couch, floating an inch above the cushions, braiding her hair in a rhythm that screamed "ancient celestial boredom."
"I could pay your rent for a year," she offered. "Or enchant your boss to promote you. Or vaporize your workplace, if that helps."
Jayden spit into the sink. "All solid ideas. But I think I'll just… go to work like a normal person."
She frowned. "Being normal sounds exhausting."
"It is, thanks for noticing."
He grabbed his bag, phone, and keys, feeling the weight of something strange. Not dread. Not nerves. Something softer, warmer, and a little terrifying.
He liked her.
Not just in a "wow, the goddess of the moon is hot and says my name like it's poetry" kind of way. But in the stupid, quiet ways. The way she hummed to herself when she thought no one was listening. The way she got weirdly defensive over her love of syrup. The way she hadn't once made him feel small, even while floating midair and glowing like a living constellation.
And now? Now she was sticking around.
Work was normal. Painfully, aggressively normal. Emails. Spreadsheets. That one coworker who microwaved fish again.
Jayden stared at his monitor, trying to pretend he wasn't vibrating with cosmic confusion. Every now and then, he'd check his phone, expecting to see a message from Vera. Or maybe some new ripple in the fabric of reality.
But the phone stayed quiet. And so did the sky.
Until lunch break.
He stepped out for air, rounding the corner to his favorite sandwich place—and walked right into her.
Only it wasn't Vera.
The woman standing in front of him looked like she'd stepped out of a dream sculpted by Greek poets. Golden skin. Emerald eyes. A dress that shimmered like sunrise. And that same faint aura of divine energy Vera sometimes tried to tone down.
"Hi," she said, voice like wind through chimes. "You must be Jayden."
He blinked. "Do I… know you?"
"Not yet." She smiled. "I'm Seraphine. Goddess of Dawn. Vera's… acquaintance."
The pause said so much.
"Right," Jayden said slowly. "And… you're here because?"
"To see what all the fuss is about," she replied brightly, stepping closer. "You're the first mortal to catch Vera's attention in centuries. Naturally, I had to investigate."
"Investigate?" he echoed.
"She says you're charming. I thought, surely not." She tilted her head. "But you are rather cute. In a tragic, tired-of-life sort of way."
"I get that a lot," he deadpanned.
Seraphine laughed, a high, lilting sound that made nearby birds pause in mid-chirp.
"I like you," she said. "If Vera hadn't gotten to you first…"
He backed up a step. "No offense, but I think I'm already in enough trouble."
"Oh, you are," came another voice.
Jayden turned to see another goddess approaching, this one with eyes like mirrored skies and hair braided with ribbons of light.
"Really?" he asked the heavens. "Is this just gonna be my life now?"
The new arrival gave a small bow. "Amara. Goddess of Celestial Law. Don't worry, I'm not here to flirt. Just observe."
"Thank God."
Seraphine rolled her eyes. "Don't be boring, Amara. He's clearly interesting."
"He's mortal."
"So was Hercules."
Jayden held up both hands. "Okay, yeah, I'm just a dude who likes waffles and weird documentaries. I'm not cut out for this divine dating pool."
"Shame," Seraphine purred. "You'd be excellent in a toga."
Before he could say anything to that, a crackle of moonlight split the air beside him.
Vera landed like a thunderclap in heels.
And she did not look amused.
"Seraphine. Amara," she said, voice tight.
Seraphine smiled. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Don't play dumb. You're following him."
"We're observing," Amara corrected. "You've made an unprecedented choice. Naturally, it's causing ripples."
Jayden noticed Vera's jaw clench.
"He's not a test subject," she said. "He's not your next bet or cosmic fling."
Jayden blinked. "Wait—bet?"
Seraphine gave him an innocent smile. "There's a pool. On how long you'll last."
"Seraphine," Vera growled.
"What? He deserves to know."
Jayden looked between them, suddenly feeling very small and very real.
"You're betting on me like I'm some soap opera character?"
"No," Vera snapped. "They are. I'm trying to protect you from exactly this kind of divine mess."
Seraphine shrugged. "If you didn't want attention, you shouldn't have descended glowing like a lovestruck meteor."
"I'm going to vaporize your garden," Vera muttered.
Amara raised an eyebrow. "You know that's a declaration of divine rivalry, right?"
Jayden stepped back. "Okay. No divine rivalries. No vaporized gardens. Can I just… go eat my sandwich now?"
Vera turned to him, looking suddenly human. Tired. Worried.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean for this to get so… big."
Jayden hesitated. Then took her hand.
"It's okay," he said. "But maybe next time, let's just get takeout. Somewhere that doesn't have celestial surveillance."
She smiled weakly. "Deal."
As they walked away, Seraphine called after them, "I'm rooting for you, Jayden! Even if the odds are 5:1 against!"
He sighed. "This is going to keep getting weirder, isn't it?"
Vera squeezed his hand. "Probably. But I'll be right here through it all."
And somehow, that made the chaos worth it.