Apollo didn't understand the dig at Ares but appreciated it (however reluctantly given the source) nonetheless. As heirs to the throne, they'd always been at odds though they knew there was no way in hell Zeus would ever give up his seat. So they shouldn't have been at war but they were both very competitive for their father's affection, women and everything in between. Where Apollo was the epitome of refinement and what all men wanted to attain for centuries, Ares was a brutal thug hell bent on destruction and death. Apollo was the golden boy, Ares was... not.
Taking his thoughts from his half brother, Apollo leveled a long penetrating glare at Pan, not immediately responding to his taunts about good music. Honestly, Pan wouldn't know good music if it bit him on the ass. Usually because his ass was so ridden with ticks and fleas, he couldn't feel anything else. "I don't see you up there playing. It's not your name they're screaming, your CDs they're buying or your concerts they're paying to see," Apollo shot back.