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I'VE ALWAYS BEEN THE least popular Archangel. Sad as it sounds, I know it's true.
As we exit Archangel Tower, we're met with a tumultuous roar from the sea of fangirls and fanboys who have gathered outside for a glimpse of us. By “us,” I mean every Archangel except for me, because I'm pretty sure none of these lovestruck humans are calling my name. I'm not sure they even know who I am. The name Sandalphon is usually met with silence.
I've tried to make sense of my unpopularity, and I think a lot of it boils down to my looks. I'm too boyish. Archangel Haniel always says I look like a stereotypical angel that would top a tree at Christmas. Since I've never seen a boy angel on top of a tree, I can only assume that means I look effeminate. Maybe I am? These light blonde curls are my curse, and a boy shouldn't have lips as pink and pouty as mine.
Admittedly, I'm not the strongest Archangel either. I haven't slayed as many shadowlings as the others, and I'm probably the last one they would call for a fight. I'm decent with a sword, but I always second guess myself and my skills. None of the others seem to struggle with the lack of confidence that's always plagued me.
I wish I was confident. I wish I was more like Archangel Jophiel, who greets his fans with the practiced swagger of a rock star. Archangel Haniel is literally a rock star, and she embodies it too. In her ripped white t-shirt and belly ring, she looks gorgeous and tough. Azrael is slightly less eager to meet his fans, but even though he's humble about it, deep down, I know he loves it. They all enjoy their popularity far more than they would ever admit.
While my friends indulge themselves in this meet-and-greet with their fans, I stand in the background, resisting the temptation to roll my eyes. I wonder what it's like to be famous. Perhaps I'll never know.
I make eye contact with one young lady who seems eager for my attention. I approach her with a smile, thinking she's going to ask me for an autograph—but alas, I'm mistaken again. I notice her Beggar's Tongue t-shirt, then she asks me to pass a note to Haniel. My smile fades, my shoulders fall, but I can't say I'm surprised. This sort of thing happens to me all the time.
After the meet-and-greet, my day doesn't get any better. The four of us head to the Violet Flame Cafe, a restaurant exclusively for Archangels and their guests. I'm the only one without a “guest,” and by “guest,” I mean a significant other. Azrael has Luciana, Jophiel has Anna, and Haniel has Chris. Sandalphon has no one. I can think of few things that are more depressing than going out with a group of friends and realizing you're the only one with an empty chair at your side.
Between sips of tea, Haniel says, “I think I heard the most screams for Jophiel today. I'm surprised. I guess that means everyone's embraced his bad boy reputation.”
“Come on!” Jophiel defends himself. “I don't have a bad reputation anymore, do I? I'm a nice guy now.” He turns to Anna, his girlfriend, and asks, “I'm nice, aren't I?”
“Usually,” Anna says. “I've heard some pretty crazy stories about you, though.”
Jophiel asks, “Such as...?”
“Well, for one, I heard you broke Marilyn Monroe's heart.”
His nostrils flare at the thought. “Rubbish. I can't believe that story is still making rounds. I have had a few famous flings, to be honest, but Miss Monroe wasn't one of them.”
Anna starts probing him for more details, but I'm listening to their conversation with half an ear. I'm still thinking about how awkward it was to stand in the background while my friends signed autographs. I know they see it too. They must think I look pitiful.
Luciana and Azrael start chatting about the many movies they've watched recently. I find that hilarious. I never thought anyone could turn the Angel of Death into a movie buff. He always thought human art—books, movies, television—was a waste of time. She's brought out a softer side in Azrael that none of us has ever seen.
Out of everyone at our table, I relate to Chris Pho the most. Not unlike me, he seems to be a shy lad with a poor opinion of himself. Once, he told me he was “punching above his weight” when he got together with Haniel. I don't believe I've heard that human expression before, but I understand what he means. He thinks she's more attractive than he is.
Azrael gets a message on his LightTab, and after a quick scan of the text, he sums it up for us. “There's a protest going on in London right now. Apparently, several demons have been spotted on the scene. Michael's asking us to handle the situation.”
His girlfriend asks, “Is that going to be dangerous?”
“It's always dangerous, but it's nothing we can't handle,” he assures her. “Jophiel, Haniel... I need you to go with me.”
Once again, I've been excluded from the list of essential personnel. It happens so often, I've stopped asking why.
My friends excuse themselves, and suddenly I'm alone with three humans I barely know. Anna and Luciana seem nice, but I don't think I've had a one-on-one conversation with either of them.
Luciana asks me, “Why didn't you go with them?”
I almost crack a joke about being unable to drag myself away from our delicious tea and cakes, but I give her a gloomy, honest answer instead. “I don't think I was invited.”
“Why not?” she asks.
The answer is obvious, isn't it? I'm not as good as the others. Obvious or not, I give her a reply that makes me sound a bit less pitiful. “I think Azrael is angry with me because I failed to protect you that one time, so... he left me out.”
“Seriously? But that was weeks ago!” Luciana exclaims. “Besides, it wasn't your fault. There were a ton of shadowlings in that hospital. You were overwhelmed.”
“Maybe. But I think he's still holding a grudge.”
It's easier to blame Azrael than to own up to my own ineptitude. Azrael didn't invite me because he thinks I'm a hindrance. That's the only reason.
And no matter how hard I try, nothing ever changes.