Hades is a Java Junkie

Summary: Don't ever touch a tainted cup of coffee because you might just end up bonded to a cheating, java junkie of a sorta boyfriend, who might or might not be the last heir to the supreme ruler of the underworld. Why not? Because he will break your heart.

Author's Note: I love Greek food. Maybe as much as I love giving my own crazy twists to Greek myths—but probably just close.


1. The Start of a Beginning

There are many ways to begin in life, sports, and even in relationships. They move beyond the adjective of good and bad to include false starts. A start a person makes even when they have to wait to be told to move. These are dangerous since not only can it cost you a game but also your freedom.

Give Hayden Sparks a coffee and he will start his day just fine. He'll be out of bed, one foot after another, Taco Bell commercial, 'good to go.'

He woke up that morning to the sound of Flathead playing on his cell phone's alarm system. Rolling out of bed, clad in blue boxers and a white tee, he tripped over his black vans then kissed the floor. It might have seemed like a horrible way to start from an outsider's point of view—but for him it was just on track.

He could hear his father on the phone in the kitchen from where he was standing before the stair railing. It never seemed to surprise him how loud a person could get when they were scolding people loud distance.

"Denny, I heard your alarm sound! I know you're awake! Get in here and get your sister some breakfast!"

The old man can multitask with the best of them, he thought sighing.

He went down the stairs and turned the corner quickly. He found his baby sister sitting up in her chair, black hair in pig tails, pulled away from her chubby face.

"You're so kawaii, Gwen-chan," he said, reaching for her.

His parents hadn't been biologically blessed with children so had instead so they had given a home to a wavy black haired Greek boy, who they had found stealing from them on their honeymoon, and a lovely Japanese orphan from their last vacation.

He would have called her the couple's midlife crisis if she wasn't so cute. He whispered the little Japanese he knew from mangas to her, and then got out some of her banana baby formula. Even if he would die before admitting the fact aloud, the banana one was his personal favorite along with hers.

"Mom's asking if you're going to the shop later?" father asked, covering the receiver with his hand.

The shop was the manifestation of coffee heaven in a world full of Starbucks ordering complication and his parents owned it.

His dad slid back into arguing with someone overseas but spared him a glance as he fed Gwen.

"You're something else, Denny. You won't even look at her in public but you act like your battling me for the father of the year award when we're at home," he stated offhandedly. "Any reason for that?"

He watched as the infant played with her brother's bangs for a while as he waited for an answer.

"None at all, sir," was his standard reply.

Hayden knew what he was doing even if no one else thought he did.

"Okay, enough breaky-time," the teen said, after more of the food was in her stomach than on her bib. "I have to go get my own breakfast."

He kissed the child on the forehead before passing her off to dad who looked at him exasperatedly. After taking a quick shower he changed into his usual attire: a striped button down sweater, a graphic t-shirt, black vans, and charcoal jeans. Then he went back downstairs.

His father was blocking his way, baby in hand, when he stepped in front of the door.

"You said you were going to lay off the coffee," he began to Hayden's annoyance.

"Coffee-sober-me is too evil to be let loose on such an innocent world," he stated with a pointed look at Gwen.

Turning around, he looked into the side mirror to check that his head band pulled back his hair enough, in perfect position to show off the new star splatter tattoo on the left side of his face. After that he checked both ear stretchings with his finger tips to make sure that the piece was still in place properly.

Then he returned to look at his red faced, curly blonde haired father.

"Can't I quit the bean tomorrow? Please? I'll take Gwen out somewhere so you and mom can have baby free time on the weekend," he promised, puppy dog eyes on 100 watts.

His father sighed and let him pass, mostly because Gwen had started crying in full out 'change my diaper, darn it!' mode.

I owe you one kid, he thought.

-

Money made the world go round, spin on its heels, and completely told the sun when to rise or set. Well, obviously it didn't in the mere terms of those words, but in Aria's world, money did all of the above and then some. It kicked major ass—including hers.

"I need a job."

Those words had been whispered by her to the cross hanging down from her rear view mirror—her mother's idea—for every job hunting day in the past month. She had found that even though she believed in the mantra, it had yet to prove itself worthy of her devotion.

Now she was headed over to the restaurant where her best friend worked to see if she could get a job there. She sighed, thinking about the other jobs that had passed her over—even if she could speak Korean, several Egyptian languages, and English with an accent.

Being viewed as exotic didn't count as anything if it couldn't get her paid.

A lady sang about not wanting to go to rehab on the radio as she pulled into the parking lot near the restaurant. It looked empty on the Saturday morning even though it was close to four 'o' clock—national tea time in some parts.

She walked into the building, keeping an eye out for a short Indian girl with curly brown hair that she helped dye. And instead was embraced by her friend's boyfriend. If she were to put her vices in order of top propriety he would be on the top, along with the occasional nervous habit of nail biting she partook in starting from when she was around eight.

"Billy, how are you doing?" she asked awkwardly.

His long brown hair was tickling the back of her neck as he crunched over her to give her a hug. He was way too tall, like six feet basketball player tall, in too-tight-for-underwear jeans. Not that she was looking at him too closely or anything. His shirt was also short enough from the wash for her to feel the sexy part of his stomach whenever he reached for something.

"I'm fine. But Lucks has been worried about you not getting here on time and here you are half an hour early," he stated.

She could hear the shuffling of her best friend before she felt her swinging from her neck in a hug.

"Dude, what took you so long?!"

The back of her head was being assaulted by the love of her friend. She disentangled herself in time to realize that Bill had disappeared from her sight. She forced her best poker face smile.

"Traffic, red lights, the occasional stop sign," she explained briefly. "Now where's that job you have for me?"

Aria watched as Lucky's expression turned from one of pure joy to something akin to tortured.

"Well… it was here before you came… and then it wasn't."

Lucky shrugged a little then nodded to someone talking to Bill.

"I'm going to leave here without yelling at you, in return for having to listen to any of your lame excuses when I call you later, alright?" Aria whispered, a bit betrayed.

"It wasn't my fault. Bill told me that he asked him to come for more than a week, like ten minutes ago—"

Aria held up her hand to silence her friend then left the restaurant. She rolled down the windows so that the air would hit her from both sides as she drove to keep her from burning up in anger. Did Lucky think that wasting her time like that was acceptable? Not only was gas money a motherstinker but she was really counting on the job.

She turned a corner and was caught in another red light. She could hear a faint tune playing from across the street—something about Toronto being great but someone wanting Paris to be theirs, and not the heiress version. It was a coffee shop without the stress of Timmy's or the pretentiousness of something unmentioned. The name of it was C Cup.

So based on the name alone it would give someone the impression that it sold more than the delicious grounded bean. She parked on the side of the road, in an empty spot in front of the place. She walked inside, seeing the various rows of coffee beans in the back of the store, the coffee tables and chairs for various forms of slackers in the middle, a cash register counter at the front, and a boy dancing in front of her with coffee in hand for a group of girls.

He held the mug away from his body like a dance partner as he slow danced to a singer promising to stick with her guy. He looked a few inches taller than her, being the first guy in a while that was her height. She admired his rounded jaw and chin and the dimples adorning his cheeks as she went over to the counter. There was a blonde woman standing at the counter with her lips quirked into a smile.

"Can I have what he's having?" Aria asked.

The lady turned to her and laughed a little.

"I couldn't make it if I wanted to. He mixes his own when he's here," she explained. "But I can get you something close—just not slow-dancing-with-a-cup good."

"I'll settle for a think-quietly-about-life cup, thank you."

He turned around at the last note to take a sip from his cup. His gray eyes met with her hazel ones for a moment. He winked at her from where he was standing and she turned back to get her coffee.

"Very smart of you," the blonde told her. "I love my son more than all else but I wish he would be more sincere with girls."

Aria nodded offhandedly at the unwanted comment—too busy tasting the latte macchiato in her hands to complain. She put the coffee back down on the counter so she could get out her money. A five dollar bill appeared in front of her as she opened her change purse.

"Big spender," she said with a smirk, turning back to star face.

"Awe, can this big spender get your name for his honorable chivalry?" he asked her, coming up beside her to lean against the counter.

"Err… no time. The work force waits for me," she stated, leaving the woman with a smile then disappearing out of the door.

"Stop running off my costumers, Denny," the woman told him.

He looked back at her with his puppy dog eyes.

"But mom, can't a boy want some company?" he asked. "If you're worried I'll forget about you when I start dating I'll make sure to buy you some extra flowers for Mother's Day," he promised.

She scoffed at the girls who were swooning from his words.

"Use the sort of big talk that doesn't bankrupt me when you start breaking hearts."

She turned back into the room to get out some more cups. Hayden took a second to look at the girls who were in the store for a bit. None of them would do even if he was looking for a Kore.

Well, maybe that hottie who left? he thought.

But even if he had some serious insta-lust towards her—her attitude and the way she didn't come so easily to him—would be trouble for him in the long run. Plus, she didn't even know how to say 'thank you' when someone did something for her. He wasn't going to spend until death with someone with barbarian manners.

"Denny, are you going to come and dance some more?" one of his guests asked him.

He struggled to remember her name for a little bit before chucking to himself.

"I'll be there in a second, love," he called out, turning back to get himself a refill.

Because what's in a name, really?


Coffee is complicated, at least for me. So is the reality world and myths. I was supposed to be doing homework—an essay—when I opened up the document that this story was in and got very inspired. Especially the whole face tattoo part. I may semi fail my assignments because of this but I will always try darn hard at making stories.

Anywho, I think that Denny is cool and Aria too and her friend Lucky needs to prioritize a little more as do I, and her boyfriend Bill is made from a muse which I will not reveal unless guessed. Plus, baby Gwen is cute stuff. There's going to be a deeper Greek myth element coming up or at least something to make the summary make some more sense so if you want more of this, press that review button and leave an 'add oil.'

P.S. working on an Angst in my Pants sequel as well.

-lovelikechucks.