“I’ve met her once or twice!” They’d burnt down France? Philotes? Really? That particular goddess had never struck her as the particular type to be fond of fires and starting them but who knew? Certainly not Melinoe, and it was good that she was hearing about it. Made her take a mental note to maybe not invite Philotes over for a barbeque if she ever happened to hold one. Or just keep a fire extinguisher handy. That seemed like a plan.
“Well, if you insist! I don’t ever argue with people who have pink hair!” Melinoe shouted back over the crowd as her favorite song and Cyndi’s greatest triumph in the musical sphere began to play the distinctive notes of Girls Just Want to Have Fun. The glossy, bubble gum pop, vaguely pink-sounding single was infectious and she would have started to dance anyway because this was why she’d come to New York City even though the place smelled sometimes even worse than Rome had on certain days before they’d gotten their plumbing situation worked out. She started to bounce on her feet, t-shirt glowing bright with the yellow streaks still wet from being smeared on it.
The song was fun. That was sometimes all she wanted, all that appealed to her. Some of her friends knew that side of her plenty well, maybe wouldn’t have been too surprised to discover her love of pop music and synthesizers, though they would be relentless in taking advantage of the teasing fodder. So she had her reasons for wanting to keep a low profile at the concert. Still, it never hurt to make new friends from other pantheons. You learned the most interesting tidbits. So Mel didn’t even try to tug her hand free even once, dancing along with the sugary, happy beat with Idun and the rest of the thousands crammed in with them.
It was only when the song was over that she breathlessly turned to the other goddess again. “Your hair looks fantastic!”