Sorry again for the time it took to update. But here it is! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Justin Bieber invited us inside. He wants to do a duet with my cousin. He thinks Annabeth is Taylor Swift. He thinks I am Logan Lerman, and most of all...

He thinks Grover is Michael Cera.

Oh, crap.

"Would you like some tea, Logan?" Justin asked. That was when I realized that he was standing right in front of me, gazing right into my eyes and brandishing a teapot. Before I knew it I'd said yes, and then my cup was full, and he was back in his kitchen, getting us some cookies. I blew out a hard breath, sinking lower into the chair. That was almost too close a call.

"Ugh, he nearly kissed you, Percy," said Nico, examining the contents of his tea cup. He raised an eyebrow at it before dumping it into the potted palm beside him, which I swear wilted a little. "Any of you guys see the record anywhere?"

We all took a minute to look around. There was a giant Canadian flag hanging on one side of the wall, several framed pictures of the Bieb and a few other celebrities, but no "Please, Please Me."

Annabeth clicked her tongue, and in her best southern accent, asked Justin where the bathroom was.

"Uh, down the hall, second door on the left!" he called from the kitchen.

"I'll check there," she whispered. "Wish me luck!"

"I'll take the bedroom," I said, moving towards the stairs. Grover followed suit, leaving Nico panic-stricken all alone in the living room.

"No!" Nico looked on the verge of a breakdown. "Don't leave me here! What am I supposed to tell him?"

Grover grinned almost evilly. "You can ask him about your set list."

"Set list?" His eyes widened so much that I thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. "What set list? No- Don't-!"

We'd already gone down the upstairs hallway, further and further into the lair of the Bieb. As we started opening doors, Grover began to lose some of his bravado, while I didn't have any to begin with.

The first door we checked was a library, filled mostly with copies of Bieber's comic book-biography and a giant iMac. The next room turned out not to be a room at all, but a linen closet. (You do NOT want to know what kind of stuff he kept in there.) Right at the end of the hall was the third and final door, which I opened with shaking hands.

The door swung open without a creak, although it was just as terrifying. My shoes met carpet instead of hardwood floor, and I found myself standing inside the drafty- yet tastefully decorated- bedroom of Justin Bieber.

His bedspread was in red and white, with a giant red maple leaf in the middle. His pillowcases matched the spread, all Canada-like, while the lampshades and most other things in his room were in classic shades of khaki, brown and gold. His curtains were creme. There were pictures of him and his family on the bedside tables, which gave me odd thoughts.

Wasn't this kid still a minor? If so, why was he living in New York, all alone, without his parents?

"It's not here," Grover said forlornly. True enough, Paul, John, Ringgo and George were no where to be found.

"Well..." I groped for something; some small, maybe nonexistent opportunity. "Maybe it's in there!" I said, catching sight of a door that was painted the same bluish-gray as the wall. I crossed the room in a few strides and tried it. Locked.

"Check the drawers while I try to pick it," I suggested, drawing Riptide and putting the pointed end in the lock. Grover muttered something about how they were imported from Indonesia, but I didn't really care because the door swung open.

It was a bathroom.

An occupied bathroom.

Looking at itself in the huge, full wall mirror was a rather large being; it was about as big as a horse, actually, but it looked kind of like a greyhound. There was lots of tissue paper on the floor, as if it had been playing with it... Or trying to blow its nose. It was sniffling and breathing heavily through its mouth. As I stood and stared at it, it turned around, focusing its glowing red eyes on me.

"Um, Grover...?"

The animal started growling.

"Oh, great, you opened- What is that?"

"The Bieb's pet dog?"

The animal's shoulder muscles tensed, and it bent low to the ground. The guttural sound it was making was gradually getting louder.

From somewhere else in the house, Annabeth screamed a high, bloodcurdling scream. As if on cue, the animal pounced towards me and Grover.

Grover and I ran out of the room, screaming like little girls. It stayed hot on our trail, bounding off the walls and knocking picture frames and vases off their perches. Bieber's floors desperately needed some waxing. We slid clumsily down the stairs, slamming into the back of his couch, making it fall over. I watched in terror as the animal slid to a stop in front of the two of us. I could feel Grover shaking in his jacket beside me. With the worst roar every imaginable, it jumped again and-

Soared right over us. It trotted loyally over to Justin Bieber's side, head held regally high, though it was still sniffling.

Which brings us to another matter: the Bieb himself.

What I saw by Justin Bieber made me want to scream. In one hand, he held an unconscious Nico by the collar. His other arm was wrapped around Annabeth's waist. She squirmed and pushed away from him, but couldn't seem to break free. There was an evil looking woman behind him with unnaturally thick black hair and a scorpion crown. She'd hiss at Annabeth every once and a while, and it was as if she had to decide between a fate with Justin Bieber and the scorpion lady. She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ew, a hard place? That's what she said.

Bieber grinned at me, getting my blood boiling hotter. "This isn't Taylor Swift, is it, Percy Jackson?"

I didn't reply. I was hoping my kiss-my-ass glare said it all.

"And I bet you're looking for this." He waved his hand, and the record magically appeared in it. Like a prize, he brandished it high.

Pointing Riptide at him, I said, "Give it here, Bieber."

"No," he replied like a spoiled little kid. "First, you must tell me: Where is Carter Kane?"

"Say what now?"

"Where. Is. Carter. Kane?"

"...?"

"Or Sadie Kane...? No?"

"Er..." I was genuinely stumped. Even Annabeth stopped being scared and turned to stare at Bieber as if he'd gone crazy. We all just stared at each other for a while until we became aware of a loud sound that just got louder and louder, as if it were getting nearer. After listening some more, I realized that they were actually whoops of joy.

Then the glass doors to Bieber's patio broke open.

"Ha-ha!" Spiderman cried, webbing the Scorpion Lady and the animal simultaneously. He pulled his arms in different directions and sent the two crashing into each other. With insane speed he shot a few web bullets at Bieber and webbed the record away from him. In another quick move, he swept up Annabeth and Nico and swung them away to safety.

No, I'm not crazy. This really did happen. Also, I may not be too smart, but I made the connection quick enough. That wasn't really Spiderman.

Bieber looked amazed at all of this. And I thought it was our team that got all of the bullshit.

"Percy, Grover!" Spiderman/Logan Lerman called, from the front door this time. "Come on!"

I grabbed a vase and hurled it at Bieber, just for good measure. He dodged it, still looking shocked, and it smashed against gravel floor of his patio. Grover and I dashed to Spiderman and hugged him like a kid hugs Santa, and before we knew it he'd shot a web to somewhere and was swinging us along.

It almost beat shadow travel.

We landed on a rooftop about five buildings down, where an intensely shocked Annabeth was sitting next to a snoring Nico, clutching the record like a safety blanket. She looked up when we arrived; her eyes were like the lights were on, but there was no one home. I helped her to her feet as she giggled something about Andrew Garfield failing as Spiderman.

"I knew you were important!" Logan cried, taking off his mask. He grinned at us despite his severe case of mask-hair.

"Yeah, thanks, man," I said. He offered me a gloved hand to shake. Sure enough, I felt the web-shooters there, just like Spiderman had in the actual comic. "So, um... You do this all the time?"

He shook his head. "This is the first time I've taken the suit out publicly. I used to practice a lot more at home, but ever since Andrew Garlfield got the role... But hey, it worked pretty well didn't it?"

Grover nodded enthusiastically. "Did it ever!" He continued with an inspired rap:

"So we were running around in Justin Bieber's crib,

And he was actually some monster, not a kid, in a bib,

Just when we thought we were doomed in his hands

Logan Lerman comes in dressed as Spiderman

And-"

He stopped. Logan looked weirded out, but recovered quickly. Ah, a true actor.

"You got mad skills, Michael Cera," he said, patting Grover on the back. "But hey, I got to go. If you guys need any more help, you know who to call, okay?"

"The Ghost Busters?" I wondered out loud, because really, he never told us who to call.

He slipped a business card into my shirt pocket and patted it. Oh, okay. Not the Ghost Busters then.

Annabeth seemed to have gotten over her state of mind a while ago. She smoothed her hair back and tied it into a neat ponytail. The record was already safe in her backpack. "Can we have one more favor for today, Logan? Or are we all out?"

Logan smiled. "Depends."

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Rhia