Three muses stepped out of a taxi, and stepped together onto the path. To any observers, it was like these three women got the "hot girl" treatment: slow-motion, wind machines blowing out their hair, pausing together in a perfect trio with the setting sun throwing up the perfect rays to illuminate them with gold. Erato stood in the middle, copper hair in a high ponytail and curled at the ends, bouncing as she flicked it back over her shoulder. She'd gone retro vibes with her look tonight, wearing a satin, short, ruched, aqua number. It would turn heads, she knew that for certain.
Of course Apollo's frat house had the air of an ancient Greek temple, except overflowing with bros instead of priests (and really, in Apollo's case, what was the difference?)
"It's been a while," she said to her sisters with a smile. "Are we ready?"