Warning: minor descriptions of sex. Rating is T+

I've already lost everything that's ever made any kind of sense

I'm so proud of what I've made

On top of the world and not afraid to see the end

My blood runs too thick to let this go

The weight of the world on my shoulders

I'm at the point of no return while every day is getting shorter.

Maybe We'll Make It After All by Stages and Stereos (Track 22 of Percy's playlist like love-letter to Annabeth)

(One year earlier. New York City.

Percy's pov)

The stench of alcohol and sweat was overpowering, swirling and invading my throat. It was intoxicating; suffocating. Like some kind of poetic justice or some shit like that. The lights in the woods were big enough and bright enough to seemingly alert the entire of New York City of the wild high school party. And if the lights didn't give us away, the music surely did. Loud, throbbing music seemed to grasp the trees around us and bring them to life, moving them as if they were erotic dancers too.

Fuck, how high am I?

I let out a large laugh, not really caring who saw. I really doubt anyone did anyways, they surely didn't hear it. I downed some more of whatever the hell was in my solo cup, and edged my way back into the center of the dancing.

"Hey Percy!" Some girl shouted in my ear. I turned to see wild hazel eyes and blonde hair. I have no idea who this chick is but… damn. How am I to pass this piece of ass up? I let a sort of charming smirk crawl up my face while the girl blushes, but pushes her breasts onto my arm anyways.

"What's up babe?" I slur and she giggled.

"Dance with me!" I don't need to be told twice. In a flash the girl's got her, pretty much, bare ass rubbing against my crotch and I've got a death grip on her hips. I don't know how long we're, um dancing, but before I know it we're stumbling out of the crowd, her lips crushed against mine, our tongues fighting for dominance. Her hands are in my hair tugging and pulling while my own has made their way up her shirt. She lifted her head back to moan but I quickly silenced her with another attack on her lips. We tumbled over and farther into the forest and finally onto the forest floor. I roll us over so she's under me and she's scratching at my back like a cat on a scratch post.

It doesn't take much longer from there to remove, more like rip, each other's clothes off, and leaving us both panting and covered in sweat. I fucking love parties.

"Hey Perce!" I look over at the guy calling my name. He looks familiar and he's probably someone I actually know but the forest is so full of smoke and I'm so fucking wasted…

"What?" Luckily, this is a party and, well if I do say so myself, I'm pretty well known, so knowing and not knowing this guy's name really isn't that big of a deal. Just like that chick I fucked in the woods. Never seen her before in my life.

He came up to me and I realized he was in my… some class. James… Jack… Joey… Something like that I think. He smirked, his eyes glazed over indicating how blazed he actually was. "Wanna joint?" I shrugged,

"Fine."

He led me over to where a group of other kids were sitting around a fire, all laughing, all high. I realized with a jolt where else I knew this guy, he was friends with Rachel. All these kids were, including my favorite redheaded activist. Well, she was one of the only people I actually tolerated anyways.

She grinned at me; her bright green eyes were glazed over. "Come join the party Perce!" She giggled and wrapped her skinny arms around me, the stench of weed rolling off of her in waves. I smirk down at her, purring,

"Don't mind if I do."

Stumbling home is probably one of my least favorite parts of parties. The fumbling, stupid movements as I try and make my way home without making a complete fool of myself. It's not nearly as bad as the hangover that's sure to come though. Goddamn why is our apartment so fucking high up?

After a lot of tripping, cursing, and making an ass out of himself, I finally make my way over to the old apartment door. Shakily, taking the key out of my pocket, I slip through the cramped room and into my own room. Sorry, Gabe's study. Moving through stacks of Playboy and empty beer cans, I can finally pass out on my bed, thankful that my mom wasn't up to see me come stumbling in.

Wincing, I think of my poor mother. How the fuck did such a beautiful woman get stuck with such a life? The love of her life dumps her when she's pregnant, her parents are dead, she can barely pay for an apartment, her daughter died of fucking cancer, she has Gabe as a husband, and she's stuck with me. Her lowlife, druggie, whore son.

I grunted as a piece of broken beer bottle stabs my hand. Clumsily, I look for the offending piece of trash before tossing it to the ground with all the other shit. I spend the rest of the night, trying to fall asleep while watching the blood drip from my hand and onto my mattress.

"You think you're tough shit, huh?" Gabe sneered at me in morning. My hair was dripping wet from the shower I had just taken a moment ago, but I was sure I still looked like shit. My hangover really didn't help.

I ignored him as I watched my mother bustle around our dirty kitchen, making pancakes and humming to herself. She really was beautiful, I decided. Long, dark, curly hair, olive toned skin and color changing eyes. She was always smiling; her laugh lines were one of my favorite things about her physical appearance. She brightened up everyone's day and she had a laugh like an angel's choir.

And yet, here she was, in this god-awful apartment with me for a son and Gabe for a husband.

"Answer me boy." Gabe snarled and reached over to grab my hair, pulling my head towards him. "You been out drinkin'? Smokin' weed, haven't you?" His face twisted into a grotesque smirk, his hot, disgusting breath fanned my face. "Bet you got some nice ass last nice, with such a pretty face like yours, huh pretty boy?" My mother had stopped humming and I knew she was listening. I cursed, fuck Gabe and his dirty games.

"So?" I snapped. "So what if I have?" My mother's flinch was like she had backhanding me, but I kept my poker face, cold eyes and cruel smirk, refusing to look at her. Gabe gave me a triumphant grin, his yellow teeth bared for me to see.

"You're scum." He laughed. "Poor Sally! Stuck with a rat like you!" With a growl, I reached over and tackled Gabe to the floor. The fat man was hard to hold down, but he wasn't any match for my strength. I smashed my fist into his nose, satisfied when I heard a loud crunch and blood splattered my face.

"Perseus! Get off of him!" My mom screamed and ran forward, breakfast forgotten. She wrapped her skinny arms around me as I continued to sail my fists into Gabe. "Percy!" She screamed again, this time actually succeeding in pulling me away from him.

"I'll kill you!" I snarled. Gabe only groaned in response.

"Percy, get your stuff." Mom whispered harshly. "Percy, now." Immediately guilt seeped into my mind and sank like a rock. Hearing my mother ask me to pack my things was even worse than if she had slapped me. It was like she had finally realized how fucked her life really was, like she figured out one of us had to go. And she chose me.

I trudged to the rundown brick building; I already missed all of 1st and part of 2nd periods. I didn't really care, my mother's words still echoing in my mind. I shouldn't have jumped Gabe like that, not because it was wrong because, dammit, I'd do it again in an instant, but because she was there. I couldn't control my anger, his words… it was his game to always point out how big of a mistake I was, in attempt to get my mother to realize how big of a mistake I am. However, it looks like I did that all on my own.

My backpack actually had something in it today as I entered the molding building, but it still wasn't school supplies. I wonder if I could crash at Rachel's again tonight… and possibly for forever.

Lunch rolled around the corner, but it didn't really make a difference to me, I had spent all my time sitting under the only tree on campus. Rachel plopped down by me.

"How's my bitch?" She joked, throwing her flaming hair over her shoulders. I just glowered at her. "Oh please, get over yourself, grumpy pants." She quickly made herself comfortable, pulling out her lunch. "Though… rumor has it, your whole dark and brooding look seems to make these whores go crazy." She teased.

I rolled my eyes before blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke into her pretty, freckled face. "Who invited you, Dare?" She wrinkled her nose, and swiped away at the smoke.

"Oh Percy, Percy, Percy…" She tsked. "You did. Silently. Your mouth says no but your eyes say yes." She mocked, munching on some vegetarian pizza. I snorted,

"Fuck you, Dare."

"You already have, as I recall." The redhead quipped back. "But hey, I'm game for another round. My cars over there you know." She suggested with a wink. My lips twisted up into a slight smile, taking another drag from my cigarette.

"Maybe tonight, Dare." She cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Oh yeah?" She took a bite of her slice. "Gabe trouble, huh?" It wasn't a question, but a statement. I only shrugged, pulling my knees closer to my chest and rested my arms on them. She didn't need a physical answer, she knew what was up. Only, this time she didn't know it was actually my mom who told me to get out. It was always Gabe, and never when she was around.

"Are you ditching all day?" Rachel finished up her meal and tossed me a long look.

"I dunno. Maybe." Another drag. Rachel took the cigarette away from me and put it to her own lips. After taking a drag she turned to me, offering it back,

"Come to art with me, please? Ms. Crawford adores your charcoal sketches. I'm sure she won't mind, she'd rather you be there than just ditching completely." Ms. Crawford was the only teacher I tolerated. She was the art teacher, but because our school was fucking broke, art was a lot more than drawing and painting, it meant creative writing, poetry, photography and music. Only theater still had a separate program. She let Rachel and I hang out there when we didn't feel like dealing with everyone else. I usually just sat around and drew, occasionally playing guitar or taking photos. She didn't look down on me like everyone else, her eyes held a certain wise sadness to them that I recognized in my own. Well, not the wise part, but the sort of sadness that came from seeing too much too young. Like knowing your own fate long before your time.

Her only rule was no smoking in the room.

I don't like listening to teachers, and I don't do orders or authority at all, but for her and her one rule, I made an exception.

I took the cigarette from my lips and took a drag, "I dunno."

Ms. Hestia Crawford gave me a gentle smile, "Good to see you, Percy." Her voice was warm and genuine. I think she was the only person who ever looked actually happy to see me. I gave her a nod before making my way into her classroom, trailing behind Rachel.

"How was your guy's day today?" She asked us. Hestia, as she wanted us to call her at times like this in her class, was one of the only women in my life I really considered beautiful inside and out. She had short auburn hair and amber eyes. She was a tiny woman, but her heart and warmth made up for everything else.

Rachel launched into a long, drawn-out, dramatic story about her day, making sure she didn't leave out a single detail. Hestia and I shared a knowing look before she turned her full attention to the redhead and I got out my sketchbook.

Hestia started up some old record on her turntable she kept in the class. I jolted with a start, I actually knew this album. Memories of summer rides in the car to the beach with my mom, her singing me to sleep, and dancing in the living room, came to me at dizzying speeds. Hestia smiled at me,

"You know this one, Percy dear?" I didn't look up from my sketchpad, but answered with a shrug, trying to not let my face betray any of my feelings.

"Louder than Bombs." I murmured, still working on my drawing. It was of a little five-year-old girl with long dark hair and bright brown eyes. I had drawn this girl a million times, but I could never get her prefect, I couldn't ever do her justice. Hestia beamed at me,

"Good to know someone in this god-forsaken school has some actual musical knowledge." She huffed, crossing her thin arms over her tiny body. "Honestly, the kids in my choir class… All they want is Taylor Swift or One Direction." She rolled her eyes. "They have no idea what they're missing." She paused.

"I'm going to have a TA go on coffee/sweets run… You kids want anything? It's on me." Rachel grinned from her canvas,

"Yeah! I'll have a mocha cookie crumble frap!" I held back any snide white girl/Starbucks comment I could've made simply out of the fact that that shit was good.

"I'll just have a vanilla steamer with a shot of espresso." Hestia flagged down a TA and gave the girl some money before she left the room. Each of us were sucked back into our work, the faint music was the only thing that kept everything from being dead silent.

Suddenly Hestia was at my side, peering over my shoulder to my sketch. "Your little girl again?" it wasn't a question and I only bobbed my once. Normally after inspecting my work, she'd just leave and go and check out Rachel's stuff, but instead she lingered over my shoulder, something on the tip of her tongue but she seemed like she wasn't sure if she should say it or not.

"What?"

She sucked in a tiny breath. "Have you ever… tried poetry, Percy?" I turned to look at her, this time giving her my full attention, where the fuck had that come from?

She blushed. "I was just wondering, I know you like to create guitar pieces and rifts and I just wondered if you ever put lyrics to your music. You seem like the poetic type." She mused out loud. "Like Kurt Cobain poetic. Simple, raw, emotional words." She shrugged. "…So have you?"

I pondered her question. "I've… written some stuff I guess." I ran a hand through my hair. "I guess its Nirvana like… I like symbolism too, so there's some Gerard Way tendencies in there… um, maybe some Morrissey…" She smiled thoughtfully, but knowingly like she had already guessed all that.

"Show me sometime, ok?" I didn't really have the chance to say no before she walked away and started fawning over Rachel's painting.

Rachel and I had plowed through three Tim Burton flicks and an entire season of Psych as well as a mountain of junk food before we got distracted. It had started out with her just leaning on me while we sat on her bed, before it progressively got less… friendly.

At some point I had put my arm around her, and then she had curled herself into my side. I had begun tracing patterns into her milky skin under her shirt while she started to trace the outlines of my muscles. Then she started to inch down my sweats while I began climbing up higher in her shirt. Before I knew it, I had my mouth attached to her fleshy neck, my hands kneading her full breasts while she moaned, her hands clawing at my shirtless torso.

More clothing was shed, more skin was marked and touched, and it wasn't long until I was thrusting into her fit body, making her scream until her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

Rachel lay naked and sweaty in my arms, her bed sheets tangled in our pretzel limbs. The moonlight that slipped from her window bathed her in silver light, her pale skin looked too perfect too touch, like freshly fallen snow and her dark red curls surrounded her pretty face like a flaming halo.

And yet, despite how beautiful her looked, even after hot, rapid fucking, I felt nothing. It was odd, because I found myself wanting to feel something for the only girl I liked. I wanted to feel butterflies, I wanted to smile when she smiled, and I wanted to be able to call our sex, making love. But I couldn't, because there was nothing for her in me.

I cared about her, not that I'd tell her, but I didn't like her like that. I had never liked anyone like that actually. I had never had a real relationship. An actual girlfriend.

But I guess this was just apart of who I am, just another piece to this broken toy soldier. I couldn't love because I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve a girl worth keeping around and besides; no girl should have to be stuck with a guy like me. Especially Rachel, who has so much, so much to give, she deserves a guy who can give back to her. What could I offer her? I'm a fuck up from a broken home, I don't have a heart or love to give, I don't have money, I'm not a nice guy, I can't even admit to my only friend that they're my friend, and I don't think I could remain faithful. I'll admit, I think I have a sex addiction.

But by the way Rachel's snuggling into my arms… I realize she thinks of me as more than just her friend or fuck-buddy. I… I care too much about Rachel to lead her on. I care about her too much to have her get stuck with me, a guy who couldn't love her back even if he wanted to.

Sighing, I slipped from her bed and dressed myself. Like a phantom, I left her house and began my walk through the neighborhood. Guess I'll be sleeping on the streets tonight.

I ignored Rachel all day, but that wasn't too hard seeing as she was avoiding me like the plague. It hurt, I'll admit, but I deserved it. It was about time those few people in my life realized I wasn't anything to keep around. I was a lost cause.

I wandered the greying halls of the old school, aimlessly. I let my eyes scan the dull posters lining the walls of the main hall. Drama club, football game, newspaper, art show, fundraiser…

The art show poster was old however. I knew because I had gone with Rachel. I laughed silently, thinking about the whole reason as to why we even got to have an art show. Rachel had convinced me to join her in a protest against the school for not funding anything for the arts program. She had caused a riot and my band, Cheshire, had fueled the flame of angry students.

The school had been forced to put up a show much to Rachel's delight. That had been a cool night.

I jumped when a soft hand landed on my bicep. I turned to see Drew Kuroba and her large doe eyes. She gave me a seductive grin,

"What are you doing out here, babe?" She purred, dragging her long nail down my arm and fluttered her eyelashes. I smirked,

"Do you want something?" She giggled and pressed herself flush against me. She rotated her hips into mine.

"I need something, actually." She moaned. I raised an eyebrow and smirked at her cockily.

"Yeah?" I bent down and whispered in her ear, my lips just brushing her flesh. "I'm gonna need you to scream it." She shuddered before leading the way to the janitor's closet.

"Rachel's hurt you know." Hestia told me when I stopped by her room. I bit my lip before dismissing the comment coldly,

"She should know better."

I was hell bent on forgetting everything tonight. I wanted to forget Rachel and her feelings, I wanted to forget my lack of feelings, I want to forget the disappointment in Hestia's eyes, the burning anger towards Gabe, and my mother's final despairing words. I wanted to just get wasted and fucked and forget.

So what better way than to go to some asshole's party?

It doesn't take long until I've downed a couple of beers and smoked a joint. It doesn't take much longer after that that I'm pulling out of some college girl I'll never see again and tossing the condom in the trash.

But maybe because I've gone through this so fast, the party's appeal is slipping away faster than normal and I'm left standing in a sweaty room with people I don't know, wondering what the fuck can I do for fun. There are girls making bedroom eyes, some of those girls I recognize from earlier tonight, but I'm not in the mood anymore.

I make my way to the backyard of this guy's house where a group of kids are stoned out of their fucking minds. Maybe that's what I'll do. Get fucking baked.

Some girl in a crop top is already stumbling over to me, a joint in her hand and her tits falling out of her shirt. She's hot and I don't complain when she ends up in my lap and her chest in my face. Everything reeks of pot but it helps dulls the rest of the world.

"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice snarls and I turn to see a stocky, buff guy charging over at me and this chick. He looks livid, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. It takes me a moment to realize he's yelling at me.

The alcohol and marijuana in my system are really fucking with my head and I tighten my grip on this girl's waist. She giggles and presses her tits closer to my face. Smirking, I blurt out,

"What does it look like, asshole?" If it's possible his face gets darker and he grabs the girl from my lap. She whines, calling this guy baby and I realize what's going on. I make a move to leave, no matter how fucked I am, I'm not going to fuck some girl in front of her boyfriend. I mean, I'm not completely innocent like that, I've slept with a couple of taken girls before, but I'm not going to shove it in this guy's face.

However he has other plans. "The fuck you think you're going, douche face?" He snarls, grabbing my arm. My temper flares, the drugs and alcohol in my system really not helping my cause. I push him off.

"I'm fucking leaving, you twat."

He growls. "You think so, you little shit?" He gives a hollow laugh before shoving me in the chest. "I'd like to see you try."

I glared at him, "You don't know who you're messing with." He flinches under my gaze before fixing me with a glare of his own.

"Yeah, I'm about to fuck up the asshole who tried to get into my girlfriend's pants."

I laugh at him, smirking, "You think so? You might want to keep your little whore on a leash, bro. Because she was the one who put her hands in my pants." The guy snaps and lunges forward, his fists flying. We tumble backwards and it becomes a full-fledged fight. And it's because of this we don't hear the kid screaming about the cops until it's too late.

Two of the cops have me restrained and are pulling me towards their cop car, while another two are dragging the guy I was fighting off, while he kicks and screams. I roll my eyes but my amusement is cut short when they slam me against the hood of the cop car.

I hate jail. I've been in this holding cell a total of seven other times. Eight now I guess. It still smells like piss, smoke, and sweat. Tragically enough, I'm used to that smell, living with Gabe and all. Or…At least I used to.

I looked at the four other strangers in the holding cell. One of them was a big dude, not buff or anything, but like Gabe, his potbelly slumped out of his stained shirt and he had a nose like a pig. I wrinkled my nose, most of the stink in this hell was coming from him, I'm positive. Another guy was extremely buff like he spent all his time pumping iron; tattoos littered his arms and crept up his neck, almost reaching his baldhead. Despite his scowl, he looked the less dangerous out of the rest of the group. There was a woman in an orange-jumpsuit to cover up her hooker clothes, or lack there of I guess. She had wild dark hair and even crazier eyes, heavy makeup smeared down her face, mixing with the blood coming from her cheek. And finally a skinny Hispanic guy with a bandana and a gang tattoo.

I kept to myself, in the far corner, taking up as little space as possible, but I made sure to keep my eyes set in a death glare and my face in a scowl. Despite my posture, I kept my shoulders squared and my chest out, I might not look as crazy or as dangerous as the other's in here, but I made sure they knew I wasn't an easy target. The guy covered in tattoos was the closest to me and he shot me a wink. I figured if a fight of sorts broke out, I could at least expect him not to try and kill me.

Which was good, because he's the only one in this room who could crush me, easy. The guy in the gang would be easy, but I wouldn't want to deal with the aftermath with his buddies. And the woman looked like I was something delicious to eat.

The guy who looked like Gabe ignored me, which was probably better, I'd probably enjoy beating the shit out of him, simply because he looks like that bastard.

The pussy I fought at the party was in the cell across from mine, looking scared shitless between two guys who looked like miniature versions of the guy next to me. I smirked at him, but he didn't notice. Probably better that way…

"Jackson." A voice growled and I looked up to see Officer Apollo glaring at me, "I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again?" He snapped, his cold blue eyes held a kind of disappointment to them. I hid my own feelings of shame and sneered at him,

"Oops." Sarcasm dripped off my tongue like poison and Officer Apollo glared harder. "There a reason you're bothering me?" I asked snidely.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. You're out on bail." I nearly choked in surprise. What? Who the fuck had the money to bail me out? Rachel? Ms. Hestia? Mom? No one of them either had the money or even knew I was here. I kept my voice cold and my face expressionless.

"Oh?"

Apollo grunted and opened the cell door. "Get the fuck out of my sight Jackson."

I waited on the bench outside the Police Department, curious as to who was coming to pick me up. Who the fuck bailed me out? I was deep in thought trying to figure out who had the money and who knew, and dammit, how the hell was I supposed to repay them when someone sat down next to me.

I glanced to see that guy from my own cell. I grunted in surprise.

"What's a kid like you fucking with the wrong side of the law, huh?" He asked gruffly. He fished around his leather jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Apparently his weren't confiscated. Lucky. He offered one to me and I gratefully took it. "So? You gonna answer, kid?"

I just shrugged. "I got no place to be. The party I was at got crazier than I expected and I was too caught up in beating that shit face's ass to realize the police were there until it was too late." He offered me his lighter and I lit up. "Whatcha gonna do?"

He chuckled. "I like you kid. You got fire." He took a drag. "Who bailed you out?" I shrugged again, a little unnerved that this guy got me to open up. Maybe it was because I knew he wasn't gonna judge, maybe it was because we held a similar sadness to us.

"Like hell if I know." I took a drag, relishing in the feeling. I could feel my shoulders unwinding and the tension slipping from my body. He cast me a look,

"No idea? Really? You got no girl? Mom?"

I removed the cigarette from my mouth, "Nah. No girl and my mom barely has enough money to buy groceries. Besides any extra cash goes to Gabe's alcohol addiction, poker games and Playboy subscription." I snarled, not bothering to hide my disgust and bitterness.

"Her boyfriend?" I grunted.

"Yeah."

Ten minutes or so later my mom pulled up in Gabe's rusty truck. I'm sure my confusion showed on my face because the guy next to me, Beck, chuckled. I stood up, tossing the smoke to the group and stamping it out.

"Hey, kid." Beck or Beckendorf as he told me to call him, said, reaching for my arm. "You ever in trouble or need a place to stay, come to Hephaestus' garage. I work there. You'll be safe there."

I blinked in surprise. "Thanks. Say hi to your girl, Silena for me." I saluted and sauntered over to the car. I opened the door and slid in, but it wasn't until we were pulling out that my mom started talking.

"Who was that?" I shrugged.

"A… friend." She bit her lip in disapproval but didn't comment further. I rested my head against the cool glass of the broken window.

"…How did you bail me out?" I asked just as she screeched, "The fuck did you think you were doing?"

"I was out." I responded coldly, forgetting my own question momentarily. I shot her a scathing look. "You told me to get out, so I did." She winced, but fixed me with her own deathly glare.

"Don't turn this on me Perseus." She snarled. "You could've gone anywhere, but you went to a party. And then got stoned and in a fight." Her words hurt like knives, but I wasn't going to show her that her words were ripping into the tissue of my heart. "You have no one to blame but yourself."

You think I don't fucking know?!

I only snorted and rolled my eyes, turning away to rest my forehead on the glass again. Rain began to pour, fitting, I thought sourly. The sound of the rain was the only thing keeping my anger and tears at bay, the calm, soothing sounds were my only comfort. I let my eyes follow the trails the drops left on the window. Let the sky cry instead of me.

There was a heavy silence in the car, the tension and unsaid words and emotional internal battles seemed to fill up the cramped space like water flooding. Finally mom sighed, muttering to herself,

"I just don't know who you are anymore." Ouch. A lone tear escaped before I stole back my bravado and snarled, twisting my features mocking and cruel.

"You don't, but you're never around to see the man I've become." She looked like she had been struck. "It's your own fault for not seeing me sooner." Your fault that you haven't seen the absolute fuck up and fucking empty shell I was becoming until it was too late. "It's too late to go back Sally. I'm not who you think I am," I shrug coldly. "I probably never fucking was."

I pretended to feel some sort of sick satisfaction as I watched tears cascade down her pale, hollow cheeks. But I didn't, all I could feel was shredding remorse and guilt. Guilt for the tears on my mother's beautiful face and remorse for the death of who I once was and of who I am now.

My mother and I had been so close, she was my best friend. She introduced me into a world filled with beauty and art and the simple things in life. She showed my childhood heart love and compassion, but those years were short lived. Ever since Rey passed it seemed any color in my world leaked away leaving bleak hurt and resentment. Gabe entered our lives and my mother was around less and less and life just lost its appeal.

She never found out about September 4th of my freshman grade year and I planned to never tell her.

The crushing reality of how we once were, of who we once were, versus how and who we are now seemed to knock the air from my lungs, driving a stake into what was left of my old heart. My mother and I were simply strangers. We didn't look alike at all and we knew nothing but memories and who we once were.

"Your father." My mother's shaky voice broke me from my thoughts with the force of a cannon. "He's the one who bailed you out." She went on. "I didn't have the money so I called him and I begged." I winced, thinking of my mother begging and crying on the phone to the man who walked out of our lives before I was even born. "He called the police force and got you out… on one condition." She gave me a scared look. "That you come and live with him for the year."

I stared at her. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." The volume rose with each venomous word. "Now suddenly he wants into my life? Why fucking now? Who the hell does he think he is? Like fucking hell I'm going to live with that scumbag! Fuck! No!" She glared at me,

"You don't understand, Percy." I scoffed,

"Like hell I don't."

She slammed her hands down on the wheel, all of her walls broken down and she was finally spent. "You don't! And fuck, Percy, you are going to live with him for a year! You're going to live with him and I'll pray to Jesus fucking Christ that your father can knock some sense into you! And bring my son back because, dammit, I don't know who you are and I don't like this new guy!" She screamed. "I can't take this anymore! I can't take care of you anymore! I can't! I can't…" She was sobbing as we some how managed to pull into the parking space to the apartments. "I just can't…"

"Go pack your things, your flight takes off tomorrow after school. You will be on that plane."

I stumbled into Hestia's room during her break. All the emotions from last night had completely drained me and I was so numb. The world moved in shades of grey and everything was just static.

The low buzzing noise in my ears followed me the entire day, my eyes had remained unfocused and I hadn't spoken a single word all day. My stuff was packed up and waiting in Hestia's room. I had stashed the stuff but the old art teacher hadn't said a single thing to me, only staring at me with sad, lonely eyes.

But I was leaving now, my mom would be here to pick me up and drop me off at the airport in thirty minutes. Rachel wasn't in the room thankfully, but unfortunately Hestia began to speak at me.

"I don't know what's going on Percy, but… I just want you to know, I'm here for you. You might not believe me… but just remember that." She then gave me a knowing look. "I kept your secret last year, I still will, you can trust me."

I gave her a blank look before moving my sandpaper lips. "I'm leaving for the year." My voice was quiet and strained. "To California. To live with my… father." I sneered the word. She wrapped her skinny arms around my thick frame and held me.

"Will you write me?" She asked quietly. "Please?" I only nodded numbly,

"Maybe."

"That's all I can ask," she murmured into my shoulder. Then she pulled away, "here, let me get you some things…" She started to fumble around her desk before pulling out two vinyl records. Then she went into the dark room to retrieve something else.

"I paid for these with my own money, don't worry about the school." She spoke up, carrying her old Polaroid SX-70 in hand. "I know you were quite fond of this camera… I want you to take lots of pictures ok? And send a few my way ok?" She also had a kit of all the film and supplies I would need to take care of it. I was too numb and shocked to protest.

Then she grabbed the two vinyl disks from her desk and placed them into my hands. "Take these too. I know you like the Smiths record and the other… It reminds me of you, I think you'd like it."

She wrapped me in another hug. "Don't hesitate to ask for anything my dear." She pulled away. "Let me grab your sketch pads and your photo book ok? And—"

I crushed her into a hug, realizing with a slight shock, how dearly I actually cared for the old art teacher. I realized how much like a mother she had become to me. "Thank you." I breathed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"Anything at all, Percy. No matter the time." She then turned to grab a sheet of paper, scribbling down a series of numbers and words. She then folded it up neatly before pressing it into my hand softly. "That's my cell and house address in case you do decide to write me, or send me a few pictures."

I felt a rush of emotion, "Can I ask something of you… now?" She nodded eagerly. "Can… can you drive me to the airport? I can't face my mother… I just need out, I can't wait around here for her… I just…" She put a finger to my lips, shushing.

"Of course, Percy." She smiled at me kindly. "Let's get your stuff then."

As I walked onto the California bound plane, I couldn't help but feel… a little free. I wasn't happy about this whole arrangement, not by a long shot, I didn't want to spend any time with my dead-beat dad, I didn't want to think of my mother and I didn't want to think of Gabe. I just wanted to escape, to get away from this world, to get away from my memories, my past, my scars, my head.

I needed out.

But this time… Maybe I wouldn't end up in a hospital bed, maybe there would be something in California that could help me get away and forget.

I settled into my seat and snorted. I doubt it.

God, that was long. I really hate writing in 1st person. Only this chapter and the next chapter that focuses on Annabeth will be in first person then I'm going back to third. So much better.

Sorry about the use of language and sex here, but this is just giving you guys some background knowledge and perspective on Percy's world. The next chapter will be a look into Annabeth's before they meet.

Final thing, each chapter will start with a patch of lyrics from one of the songs on the playlist Percy made Annabeth. I'll probably reuse different songs, but use different lyrics.

xo

Emma.