This is A Justin Bieber and Percy Jackson (and Annabeth) fic. Percy is like fourteen (around Battle of the Labyrinth time), Justin is his current age of sixteen. P.S., I know Percy's voice doesn't sound like it does in the book, but since I'm not Rick Riordan and I didn't create the character, I can't really get his voice right. I tried my best.

—EDIT: I am re writing this. Not the plot, just the prose. It may not be elegant and all that jazz, but you can't say I didn't try. :) This was my first fanfiction so the re-write will most likely be better –

READ ON!

PROLOGUE

When he first came to Camp, Percy remembered Chiron explaining half-bloods. He mentioned in passing that sometimes they didn't know they were half-bloods. As hard as it was to fathom, there were people that walked the earth with Olympian blood running through their veins and pumping through their heart…and they didn't know it.

But as soon as Chiron said that, he was moving on to something else. That was rare. So rare, in fact, that some people didn't believe it happened.

But it did. Percy was watching it. Even now, Annabeth stood beside him fighting the effect of powers this boy didn't even know he possessed.

His mother was Ate, goddess of Obsession, Temptation, and Infatuation. Not to mention Destruction.

Aphrodite, goddess of Love, was his godmother.

He was an international pop star, and when he stepped onto a stage, his powers were unleashed onto the crowd. He was innocent, he didn't know what he was doing, but that wasn't helping the girls in the front.

They swooned, they're eyes became large and desperate; they were filled with an obsession approaching madness. Some were influenced by the gifts his godmother had given him, and they instantaneously fell hopelessly in love. His powers weren't full blown. As of yet they only affected the young, the tender, mostly females. But soon those powers would build, and the combination of power and ignorance was not a good thing.

Percy and Annabeth were there to make sure this boy never became a problem.

His name?

Justin Bieber.

OoO

Demigod,

Chapter 1: In Which We Meet the Scariest Stage Mom Ever

Percy

Sometimes it's scary what mortals will accept as normal.

He's singing a song about babies like it's his last night on earth, and I know that if he was human, this wouldn't happen. This couldn't happen. This small, dainty girl next to me would not be clawing at another girl's eyes to get closer to the stage.

He smiled at them all, like they're just so cute, and they rage and foam at the mouth, tearing at each other to get even an inch closer to the stage.

It's creepy.

I may not be a big expert on normal, but I know this isn't it. And yet, there are parents here, watching this carnage with adoring smiles.

"Thanks so much for making my dreams come true. I love you guys." He waves and smiles. Annabeth and I might be the only ones who notice that a shining golden light seems to come from his teeth, and his hair as he swishes it. Like fairy dust. It drifts down on the heads of a few unlucky girls who suddenly begin to scream louder and cry. This is the so-called blessing of Ate, his certified mom. Him not knowing who he is makes it easier for her to manipulate him like this.

Ate got kicked off of Olympus. They don't talk about her much in class, so I don't remember her story, but I know enough to tell you she's crazy. She's crazy because she wants revenge, because she wants Olympus, and just because she feels like it. If you come into contact with one of her ridiculously charismatic children, as much as you want an autograph, walk away.

I watched him walk offstage, too stunned to do anything but shake my head and stare. Annabeth had to drag me away. We had to meet him outside, whether he knew it or not.

Girls (and a few guys) throng him, screaming his name. Oh, to be a pop star. With her wearing her invisibility cap and me willing myself to be wet so people will step back, we make our way to the front of the throng, ready for action.

OOO

Percy observed Justin as he walked to his limousine. He stepped out of the building with a bright smile and warm eyes for all who beheld him. He snapped his neck like he was trying to give himself whiplash, making his caramel colored hair fall softly into place. His skin was radiant, his hair was perfect, there didn't seem to be a single blemish or flaw, which was somehow emphasized by his small stature.

He seemed humble, but there were a few times when you could see he couldn't help testing the waters. He would single out one girl and wink, or brush another's hand while signing his autograph, just to see them faint, cry, or scream and smile. No, he wasn't immersing himself in the worship and adoration, but he was definantly beginning to flirt with it.

OoO

Justin

Okay, so I like the attention. That's not bad, right? I mean, I'm famous. Not a lot of people get famous by hating attention.

But just for an update, It's getting harder not to do that thing. I know the thing I'm talking about. I walk out into this crowd of people that love me and want me and would do anything for me and it's a heady feeling to deal with. Who wouldn't be a little overwhelmed? Like, hearing voices overwhelmed. Totally normal.

See, I've got this…voice now. It's telling me to mess with people's heads. Touch this girl's hand to watch her faint. Smile at the guy and watch him doubt himself. Usually I say stuff like No, voice, that would be mean. See, I talk to a voice in my head. That's not healthy unless you're a nun.

But lately that little voice in my head has been getting louder, more pushy, saying: Go ahead, do it. Just to do it. To see if I can. And, because I can't resist a dare and I'm stupid, I do it. Then I feel really, really guilty afterwards, so I write stuff down and then burn it. It's all I can do.

What am I gonna do, tell my mom? Yeah, mom, I have a voice in my head and I kind of think that it means that all this attention I'm getting isn't natural or healthy. As a matter of fact I think it means there's something wrong with me and maybe I should cancel a month of performances to attend therapy.

Come on. How can I say that? I would get to crazy people rehab and Young Star would have "Baby Biebs wants to Quit the Biz?" blazed across the cover. Everybody would think I was gay. I mean, what straight sixteen year old guy WOULDN'T want tons of hot girls worldwide screaming at the mention of his name?

Yet it all feels wrong somehow.

I feel like, sooner or later, that voice will become MY voice, and I'll do whatever it says. And instead of causing fainting spells and huge crowds, I'll just start be giving out heart attacks and making my fans bow down to me.

Am I going crazy? One Hundred percent likely.

Am I being dramatic? Even more likely.

At least I still have music. As soon as we get away from the fans I can go somewhere and drown in it and that scary attention-lust feeling goes away. In the pluck of the guitar string, the smooth glide of the ivories, and strangely enough the sound of my own voice. When I sing real quiet and try to sound like I'm whispering, I like my voice a lot. And it soothes me.

How's that for humble superstar, right?

Maybe this is what happens to all superstars. Maybe THIS is what happens to child stars! Maybe this is what happened to Britney!

Except, I don't want to shave my hair. And if I was gonna attack random cars, it'd be with something cooler than an umbrella and probably wearing a leather jacket.

But I'd probably say it's all in my mind…if so much weird crap hadn't started happening.

If it wasn't for the Belieber Army there would be FIVE assassination plots aimed at me that might have been successful today. Yes, piece of paper, that's what I said.

Why do people want to kill me? I'm an underage white pop singer. I think world terrorist must be getting pretty bored to put me on their hit list.

And it gets weirder.

A few nights ago some kids came up to me like "Mr. Bieber can we have your autograph over here in this dark suspicious corner?" So of course I said yeah. I mean their kids, what's the harm? Plus, they called me Mr. Bieber. People don't even call my dad "Mr. Bieber".

So here I am in a dark suspicious corner with a bunch of nine year olds, signing autographs, when, out of the mouth of one of the small boys comes "Do what we say or you die." Then he pulled a gun. Naturally, I was slightly nervous.

I was like "come on you don't like my music?" I know: Lamest last words since 'Mommy'.

The kid goes, "We hate you, son of Ate." Whom, it turns out, it the Greek myth goddess of destruction.

But I didn't know that then, I just said "Please don't hurt me." (again, I KNOW)

He smiled, this creepy smile, and suddenly I realized that he had fangs. And was really pale. At this moment I came to the obvious conclusion that was he and his friends were vampires. But now that I'm writing it down, it seems crazy. Still, it happened, and I'm sticking to my story.

Okay this is the part that scared me. Even more than the whole vampire-with-a-gun thing, I mean. I got that feeling. Like every Be Charming switch in my body came on, like when I'm trying to impress a girl's parents but even more. Plus, I felt a little pissed off. Then, I said, remember, to a VAMPIRE (I think), "You don't hate me. You love me. You're my biggest fans."

And then this gold stuff like SURROUNDED them, and suddenly they started screaming "I LOVE YOU, I WANT TO MARRY YOU, JUST ONE PICTURE!" and jumping all over me. For little kids, they were insanely strong.

Luckily, Kenny came over and pulled me out of that, but I had to sing the entire track list of Thriller to myself before I was peaceful enough to fall asleep.

Another time, almost the same thing happened, but I'm pretty sure they were ghosts and they were grown women and instead of the gold dust thing, I sang to them. I heard music and lyrics in my head all of a sudden so I just opened my mouth and sang.

And it wasn't my regular voice either. It WAS my voice, I recognized my tone and my awesome riffs (what can I say? I'm proud) but it was like what my voice should sound like after it's fully matured and after YEARS of voice lessons with a member of the heavenly choir.

I've since tried to get myself to do it again but no dice.

Okay, I'm gonna burn you now. Hopefully it's not too awkward.

OoO

Annabeth

"She's been protecting him." Percy said, meaning Justin's mother. He had thrown the letter into the fire and been prepared to watch it burn. We got lucky that someone called him to vocal rehearsal.

I nodded. "Obviously. But why? We know Ate is using him. Wreaking havoc on earth through her kids is like her hobby. But why would she PROTECT him? And worse, how? "

Percy shrugged. He spun my Cap of Darkness, the one the original Perseus used to kill Medusa, the one my mom gave to me, on the tip of his finger. His sea green eyes watched it go around and around. Finally, he spoke. "Maybe she's on Kronos' side. Although I don't know what he would want with a pop singer."

"Maybe I'm just bored." We spun around, and immediately knew we were looking at Ate. She was dazzling, but disheveled, like Kate Moss or Ke$ha. She looked like a homeless supermodel on drugs. She stared at Percy and I from under her uneven bangs with wild, stupefied eyes. But the wildness and stupidity were a mask. Beneath that was the mind of a maniac.

"Why don't you leave the boy alone? He's not hurting anybody, right?" She snapped her fingers, and a bottled of some kind of drink appeared in her hand. She threw back her head, chugged it, and flung the bottle into the air where it disappeared.

"Nobody but the hundreds of girls that get hurt at his concerts because you're insane." If there's a way to make money out of pissing off the gods, Percy should find it. I'm starting to think it's his gift.

"Well, that's too bad," she looked like she'd left the conversation already. "Look, I'm having fun for the first time in decades. All my other children have gone on to become stuffy, corrupt politicians that I couldn't do anything with, and the only other one, Brad, well, he realized his powers almost immediately and won't do anything I tell him too. The ungrateful wretch. But this one…" she smiled in a way that would have been fond on any mother but her. "My little Justin, well…he has potential."

She looked up from her musing and her bloodshot eyes focused hard on us. "Don't screw this up for me, little demigods. Just because I no longer sit at Olympus does not mean I don't still have power."

And then she vanished.

We looked at each other, considering. Percy, almost reading my mind said "So are we doing this?"

I nodded "Of course."

End Part One

A/N: Justin doesn't have charmspeak. I just read The Lost Hero and realized Rick's been reading my fics. I think if Ate can control people with talking, it would more likely be a sort of, her-voice-makes-them-go-crazy kind of thing.