Here’s the companion scene — Laura, alone, catching up with the past that Hermes turned into myth and heartbreak.
✴ SCENE: “The Boy Who Wore the Armor”
INT. LAURA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
A cup of half-finished tea. An open book. Soft lo-fi music in the background. Laura sits cross-legged on her bed, lit by fairy lights and the glow of her phone. She flips a page and sighs.
She’s reading the Iliad, or maybe a modern retelling. The chapter is titled:
“Patroclus: The Boy Who Wore Achilles’ Armor.”
Hermes told her a version earlier — all jokes and soft tragedy — but now she’s reading the real thing. Or the mortal version of it.
Text (in her head):
“…and Achilles’ grief was not that of a friend, but of something deeper.
A body that knew the absence of its mirror.”
She puts the book down.
Looks over at her tarot cards spread nearby. The Two of Cups stares back at her.
Laura (softly):
“They were in love, weren’t they.”
She scrolls her phone and finds an old vase painting. Two boys sharing armor. One smiling, one focused. She presses her lips together.
Laura:
“He wore it to protect him.”
Outside her window, something flits past. A breeze. A wingbeat.
EXT. ABOVE THE CITY – SAME NIGHT
Hermes hovers lazily, high in the air. He looks down through the glass at her with his mirror shades. The lights reflect her curled up in bed.
Hermes (to himself):
“Sometimes the mortals do get it.”
He tips his bucket hat and flies on.
Godmode: Enabled 