There are a lot of stereotypes Cupids face. They’re air-headed, flighty, indecisive, too idealistic, hopeless romantics, blind to the truth, and above all, they LOVE a good gossip. Amongst these, only one of these is actually accurate for the majority (98%) of Cupids.
Those in the minority (2%), such as Haechan, are grounded enough to know not to trust unsubstantiated claims, and in the Clouds, anything not from a primary source is usually proven to be unfounded anyhow. Cupids pretend to be hungry just to stir the pot. Love and drama mix well.

Haechan knows this. He knows how Cupids are. Idle hands are Hades’ playground after all. So when word gets to him that Mark Lee supposedly said that Haechan was his muse, he snorts and has himself a good laugh.

“I’d rather hear it from Hermes. Least you know not to trust him.”

Haechan doesn’t bother entertaining the discussion any longer and takes on a bunch of rookie assignments, and two weeks later, just as he predicts, the Cupids have long moved on to surely bigger and juicier topics. Haechan’s mistake, however, is thinking it’s all behind him.

Haechan learns not to underestimate the power of fans; their networking skills are no joke. After the boy with a lip print jacket is revealed as Mark’s muse, those at the fanmeet who had lowkey suspected Haechan of being someone important had snapped pics and shared them online.

While news in the Clouds spreads like wild lightning streaking here and there in a flash, in the human world, news travels in waves from a center point. Haechan’s pics spread steadily online, accumulating more and more people with the pressing question: who is lip print jacket boy?

Coincidently, Haechan isn’t informed of these developments in the human world until Hermes arrives. Haechan is in the midst of matchmaking a wealthy dog lover with the owner of a struggling animal shelter when he gets the letter of summoning, flown in by Ms. Aphrodite’s doves.

Another Cupid arrives shortly after the message, and upon hearing how the Cupid planed to complete the assignment, Haechan nearly loses his calm.

“You don’t just shoot it and boot it! Don’t they teach you anything in Intermediary School?”

The other Cupid sends him a look.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” the Cupid responds smugly. “This is my mission now. I’ll complete it however I want.”

Haechan’s annoyance travels with him his entire way back to the Clouds and all the way to Ms. Aphrodite's chamber, which he enters without knocking.

The ever-changing room has been renovated again. The floors are tiled pink and the throne has adopted an open clam design with Ms. Aphrodite herself, draped in velvet, acting as the pearl. Hermes hovers above the crystal blue pool surrounding her, whispering jokes in her ear.

Her smile is perfectly fake and her eyes light up with relief when she sees Haechan.

“Oh, Haechan, dear! Come on in!”

Hermes senses the shift in her energy and he backs up some using his winged-sandals and helmet.

“How have you been?” she asks.

“Fine. Did you need something?”

Ms. Aphrodite doesn’t normally tolerate cross behavior, but Haechan’s always been a favorite of hers so she ignores him, instead nodding at Hermes who rummages through his bag. Hermes withdraws a envelope and winks.

“You’ve got mail,” he says, holding it out.

As soon as Haechan reaches for it, however, Hermes snatches it away. He repeats this two more times with an impish giggle and Haechan lets out a grumble.

“Have you ever been in love, Sehun?” Haechan asks innocently. Behind them, Irene makes a derisive noise, surely by accident.

Hermes flinches at the question and shoves the letter in Haechan’s hand before muttering a flurry of excuses to the Goddess of Love and then dipping out at the speeds he was known for in his glory days.

“You shouldn’t tease a God, Haechan,” Ms. Aphrodite scolds with a chuckle.

“He started it,” Haechan pouts but there’s no petulance in his tone. He waves the little paper her doves delivered and raises his brows. She points at Haechan’s hand and he finally examines the writing on the mail. It reads:

‘To Haechan
From Ms. Aphrodite’

“What is this?”

Ms. Aphrodite, or rather Irene as Haechan likes to informally address her when she gets like this, shrugs her shoulders.

“How would I know? It’s YOUR mail, isn’t it?”

It’s time like these when Haechan truly sees why the other Gods say Irene and Sehun are like-minded.

Haechan slides his thumb under the fold of the letter and forces it open gently. Inside, is a little pink slip, one Haechan knows all too well. His face drops.

“You’re kidding me,” he mumbles to himself as he reads over the notice.

It’s a special request from Irene herself.

“Why am I being put back on this case? I already submitted my failure form.”

He looks over the pink paper in disbelief. It was already wrong for them to have assigned Haechan an Antique in the first place considering he was still an “amateur” yearly experience wise. This, however, this special request (aka you can’t decline unless you’ll be cursed) by Irene herself, no less, was like the cherry on top to an already unlucky situation.

When Irene genuinely smiles, she lights up the room. Haechan has to look away while she speaks.

“Something has come up, Haechan. Things have changed. The situation is different,” she explains, infusing just enough authority in her otherwise silky voice to keep Haechan’s potential disrespect at bay. “Hermes has delivered a message from the Oracles. You were in their vision.”

That catches Haechan’s attention and he waits for her to continue.

“Apparently, that Antique of yours—“

“He’s not mine—“ he carefully interjects—

“Mark Lee—was it?—he’s not a regular Antique like we thought.” Irene pauses. “He’s a reincarnate as well.”

“Woah, wait, what?”

Haechan shakes his head and then replays what she just said to him in his mind.

“He was a reincarnate, too? No wonder I felt something off back then. How come nobody caught that?”

Irene sighs. “I’m not sure how, either, Haechan. This is a dire situation, indeed.”

“Well, do we at least know who he’s an reincarnation of?”

Haechan remembers studying hundreds of Greek figures for his history class taught by Clio, the muse of history, but he couldn’t quite see any of them in Mark Lee thinking back to their encounter. Who could it be?

“Are you familiar with Orpheus?” Irene asks.

Suddenly it clicks and it all makes sense.

“HE’S an Antique with Orpheus inside him?” Haechan asks, laughing in disbelief. “This is great. Absolutely great. A beautiful combination.”

Irene ignores his hysterics. “There’s more.”

Irene tells him about the Oracles’ vision. According to her, which is according to Hermes, which is according to the Oracles, Mark is in the process of developing an anti-love song that could tip the scales in Hades’ favor. Apathy was his weapon and Mark’s music was the provider.

“Do you know what you have to do?” Irene asks after the brief.

Haechan nods solemnly. He could do this. This was a second chance; he would succeed this time.

“Use any means necessary, Haechan, dear. We’re counting on you.”

Haechan leaves her chamber thinking about his 2%.