81.

"Name?"

"Orpheus."

"Occupation?"

Cairo grins. "Rescuing people from Hell."

The desk attendant glares up, slow, practically sweating ennui. "Occupation?"

"…Singer."

"Perhaps you'd like Athens then?" she recommends, already knowing too much.

"Athens," Cairo levels acicularly, "fucked over my tyro."

Rome offers a receptionist smile. "Well – with due respect, that is her job."

"'Fucked over.'"

"Semantics."

"Tell your suitemate: 1)I'd like to see her, 2)it's for revenge, and 3)'revenge' is not a euphemism."

The lack of alcohol on his breath terrifies her.