HEPHAESTUS

Hephaestus: (he-FEE-stus or he-FESS-tus; Roman name Vulcan) was the lame god of fire and crafts or the two together, hence of blacksmiths. Hephaestus was the son of Zeus and Hera or, in some accounts, of Hera alone. He limped because he was born lame, which caused his mother to throw him off Mount Olympus. Or in other accounts he interceded in a fight between Zeus and Hera, and Zeus took him by the foot and threw him from Olympus to the earth far below.

Hephaestus also created the first woman, Pandora, at the command of Zeus, in retaliation for the various tricks by which the Titan Prometheus had benefited mortal men at the expense of the gods. Pandora was given to the Titan’s brother, Epimetheus, as his wife. For her dowry she brought a jar filled with evils from which she removed the lid, thereby afflicting men for the first time with hard work and sickness. Only hope remained inside the jar.

INTRO

Los Angeles, tonight

”Isn’t it strange that a gift could be an enemy
Isn’t it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore
Maybe its me, but this life isn’t going anywhere
Maybe if we looked hard enough we could find a back door…”

A phone is ringing in the middle of the night.
Sheets rustling in the dark. A bronzed hand reaches for the cell.
“He – Hello…?”.
A mumbling, silky voice still caught in numbness.
“She’s out of control. Totally out of control. You gotta help me, she’s freaking out”.
Sharp words in a monotone, estranged voice.
“…What…? Je-Jenny?”.
Eyes narrowed in a sudden understanding.
“Yeah. You gotta help me. You gotta tell her that she has to stop with this fucking shit”.
“What are you talking about?”.
Yeah, “what”.
She doesn’t ask “who”.
She already knows.
“She just fucked my girlfriend, she had her head between her thighs”.
O-uch.
The young woman sits on the bed and stares at nothing. She knows no words to express how she feels.
She sighs.
“Where is she, now?”.
“She’s in the backyard. I am not gonna let her in. I need you to come over here and talk to her, because if I go out now, I am going to kill her with my own hands”.
Jenny’s voice is tensed, trembling. It evokes pure rage, pure disappointment.
Carmen swallows pure tension, then rubs her tired eyes.
“…Why did you call me? Why me?”.
“Because, at the end of the day, you’re the only one who can really do something. Everything is started when you left –“.
“I didn’t leave”.
Just a clarification. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Carmen, you know what I mean”.
“…Yeah”. She runs her fingers through her long, long hair.
“…I’m on my way”.