I honestly have no excuse. I've just been busy doing one thing or another. But now that most of my drama is all over with, I will hopefully be able to get back into writing. I know I've said that before, but you guys have NO IDEA how much stress I'm dealing with. My boyfriend (yes, the one who's story this is based off of) and I like joking around and complaining about how my parents are exceedingly strict and very rarely let he and I see each other, and I've been wound up so tightly with stress lately that when he did the same exact thing I got MAD at him! What's worse is that he apologized like it was his fault for antagonizing me, and he said that seeing me mad at him was quote "the worst feeling he'd ever felt in his entire life." GODS, I feel guilty...

So anyways: here's chapter two of Fireflies. I thought I'd keep with the Owl City theme (even though he isn't my favorite singer-that's Rascal Flatts), so I titled Chapter Two: Lonely Lullaby.

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or Owl City.

Chapter One: Lonely Lullaby

"Symphony of silver tearsSing to me and soothe the ring in my ears.
Overcast these gloomy nights wear on
But I'm holding fast because it's Darkest just before Dawn."

Annabeth Speaks:

That's what I wish had happened.

In reality, I had no idea that such a person as Percy existed back then. When he'd moved from Alaska to live with his dad and step-mom in the fifth grade, it was to Meadow View instead of Prairie Mountain, and I would later learn that he had met Thalia instead of me.

My early life was misery. I didn't want to remember it, so most of my life is a large blur and blanks at every turn. I do remember a few select big-picture portions of my elementary school life, though. I was smart, and never really had to learn anything, because what I didn't know before from reading constantly came naturally within the first hour of the lesson. I became the teacher's pet. But I was an innocent and very gullible soul, and children are cruel. They would ask me what the answers to the worksheets are one minute, and then treat me as if I was gum on the bottom of their shoe the next. I was outcasted and alone, and out of the select few people I would call my friends, only one or two actually thought of me as a friend.

Middle school wasn't too much better. My mom got pregnant with the twins just before the end of my fifth grade year, so we had to move to a bigger house. At least I got to go to school with my friend Kelli when I went to Shasta, but I ended up pairing up with the other freaks and outcasts over the course of those three years.

"Annabeth!"

I turned to see Luke racing towards me with a huge grin. The prepubescent seventh grader nearly tripped over a group of make-upped popular girls, then continued heading for me.

Kelli next to me covered her laugh with a cough, "Wow, Annabeth. Luke sooo likes you."

I rolled my eyes and watched the messy brown-haired boy come closer, his backpack bouncing with his movement.

"I told you before, Kelli. Luke ish just a friend. Total dork, the guy ish, too," I lisped around my braces.

"If you say so," she giggled unbelievingly. "So did you finish the homework?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, as Luke stumbled to a stop next to me, just a little too close. I side-stepped away slightly.

"Can I see it?"

I handed it over. She took a quick glance and then shoved it in her backpack.

This was a normal thing. She said that she used it to check her work. I didn't mind—I was happy to help my best friend. And she almost always brought it to class in time to turn it in.

"I gotta go home," she said with a wave. "Later, Annabeth!"

"Later!" I waved back with a braces-toothed grin.

I felt someone tap my shoulder, and I turned back to Luke's matching brace-face grin.

"Sho what'sh up?" he lisped, his grin never-ceasing.

I shrugged, adjusting my glasses. "Not much. Jusht got done reading Homer lasht period."

"Again?"

"Shut up," I mumbled, stung. "There'sh nothing wrong with Greek Mythology."

"Except it'sh boring," he muttered into his Garfield comic.

I rolled my eyes. Ever since I quit sneaking Garfield and superhero action comics under the table with him, he'd been upset about my descriptions of real books. I guess he was just hurt that I had moved on from the Graphic novels and manga to things like Mythology and Classics and Architecture.

"Life ish boring," I replied. "And it sucks like hell, too."

I ignored the students who stared at the-girl-who-never-cursed-like-ever and went back to my book.

Annabeth Speaks:

I know. Boring, dull, and nerdy. And that was without the bullying and torture.

And yes. I am well-aware now that Kelli was using me, but like I said—at the time, I was a very gullible person. Besides, she and Luke were my only friends.

It was about May of my eighth grade year that I had my braces taken off and replaced with a retainer. About June after school ended for the year that I was told to only wear the retainer during the night while I was asleep. And about July that I finally clued in on how stupid I was.

"Annabeth, what the hell is wrong with yo—" Kelli's voice cut off as I flipped my phone shut and fell backwards onto my bed.

I had to do it. She wasn't my friend anymore. She was just using me. And no friend is better than a friend that used you to her advantage. At least that was what I was telling myself.

Besides, it was August, and registration for high school was in a week. I'd already found my Freshman class schedule online, and I couldn't wait for my first day of classes. It was a fresh school—a fresh start. And Kelli was possessive. Every time I talked to another person, she acted like that new person had replaced her as my best friend, and that I had abandoned her. (Honestly, you'd think we were dating or something.) I had to stop hanging out with Kelli, or I'd be stuck as her lap-dog forever, and I'd never get any new friends in high school.

I sat up and stared at my reflection in the mirror on my dresser across the room. At the girl who didn't look like me. My mom and grandma had surprised me with contacts two weeks before. I had gotten bangs and taken my favorite Yankees baseball cap off for the first time since my mom got it for me at age twelve.

I smiled at the mirror.

Straight, white teeth; not a sign of metal there.

This was the new Annabeth Chase. The only question was if she was as different on the inside as well as the outside.

I blew my bangs out of my eyes and looked back down at my book.

Annabeth Speaks:

So yeah. I wanted a new start. So I changed my looks and hid my scars behind layers and layers of masks. This new Annabeth would not be timid and innocent and quiet. She would be feisty and proud and would never back down.

Because fuck them all.

The next couple years showed the new Annabeth clearly. Some things changed, and some didn't. Luke still talked to me. I still hung out with the outcasts. Friends still thought Luke and I were quote, "meant for each other," which still annoyed the hell out of me.

But when a boy tried to flirt with me, I told him off. When a guy friend did something stupid, I punched him in the shoulder. Innocent and timid Annabeth was no more. All that was left was a polite yet fiery girl who never took shit from her peers.

"Do you like me?" I asked the blonde mess of hair in front of me.

Luke turned bright red, and rubbed his hands together, like they were sweaty. When I didn't get a reaction out of the sixteen-year old dork, I shrugged and sat back down in my chair, re-opening "Ender's Game."

Then, to my surprise, I felt breath by my ear, and Luke's voice whispered, "yes."

Well, shit.

Annabeth Speaks:

I didn't like Luke that way. He was just a dork to me. He was perverted, and couldn't go through a sentence without staring at my chest. He annoyed the hell out of me with his dirty jokes and terrible taste in humor that I just gave a polite chuckle-that-only-an-experienced-psychologist-woul d-recognize-to-be-fake towards. And he smelled like he hadn't showered since birth.

But all of my peers including him called him my boyfriend for several months after he admitted he'd liked me since the sixth grade, until finally in November no one even listened to my denials, not even Luke himself, and I was left forced to date a complete dumbass. My first boyfriend and he disgusted me.

Now here's where it gets complicated. And to explain, I need to move back from Junior year for a moment, and head back to the beginning of sophomore year.

"Hey, Thalia!" I grinned at the girl I'd known at Meadow View in the first grade.

"Hey, Annabeth," she replied with her own answering grin, then turned back to the two guys she was talking to.

One was tall. Like, really tall. Like, tall as in I had to look towards the ceiling to be able to see his face. He had a large build and a scruffy brown curly beard, and he looked like a cross between Wolverine and the Pillsbury dough boy. The random side of me that liked to peek out between my scars briefly wondered if he'd giggle if I poked his stomach. I had no idea what his name was, seeing as Thalia—the girl who liked nick-naming everyone she knew—kept calling him "Sasquatch." I'll be honest, I didn't argue with the nickname. The guy was Bigfoot's werewolf son.

The other boy was the one that drew my attention, for reasons I wasn't able to name at the time. He was much shorter than his friend, and looked like a midget nerd standing next to a fuzzy wall of meat. His hair was a messy black windblown style, and he had a jagged scar on his forehead—probably why Thalia kept calling him "Harry Potter." Though the nerd in me kept insisting his scar looked more like the crack in Amy's bedroom wall from Doctor Who season five episode one: "The Eleventh Hour."

"Harry Potter" was a sarcastic guy who grinned a lot, but the smiles seemed... off… somehow. Like the expression didn't reach his eyes. It confused me and intrigued me.

Thalia kept talking to them while I stood there like a dead fish until the five-minute bell rang, and she hurried off to her class on the other side of campus, leaving me alone with two guys that—judging by their expressions—looked just as awkward as I felt.

"So…" I mumbled, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet and looking anywhere but at them—most of the time choosing to stare at the floor. This was the first time the old Annabeth peeked through. I wondered if it was me, Sasquatch, or Harry Potter that was causing it.

"Um…" Harry Potter looked just as shy, "so… I never caught your name…"

"Annabeth," I nearly whispered to my Converse. "And yours? I'm assuming it's not Harry Potter and Sasquatch."

The smart remark gave me a little confidence, and I glanced up to see the two of them chuckle.

Sasquatch waved in my direction. "I'm Grover. Nice to meet you."

I smiled at Grover. "Nice to meet you. I guess…"

"You guess?" Harry Potter raised his eyebrows amusedly at me.

"Yes," I joked back. "I guess."

He laughed and I smiled.

"I don't mean to interrupt this budding romance," Grover teased, rubbing his fist into Harry Potter's scalp, "but I've got to get to class. Later, Annabeth."

"Later," I waved as he turned around and headed down the math hall.

I turned back to Harry Potter. "I need to go too, but I figured it'd be polite to re-ask for your name, since you never gave it to me."

His eyes lit up and his cheeks turned pink. "Oh yeah! Oops… Sorry."

Then he turned halfway to follow Grover, and with a smile and a wave said to me, "I'm Percy. Nice to meet you, Annabeth."

Annabeth Speaks:

At the time, Percy had just seemed like a dorky kid whom I could somewhat talk to. I only really talked to him when Thalia was there or when passing his locker by in the halls. There was only one chance where I could have talked to him more the next two years, and well…

Instead of taking Design and Manufacturing which was only offered fifth period like I'd wanted (and—even though I didn't know it at the time—like Percy was taking), I listened to my best friend Piper, who was more the artist than I was, and took IB Theater instead. Which caused another snag in the situation.

All IB Theater kids were required to try out for one of the plays to pass the class, and that was the only reason I was at the fall audition for Fools in October of Junior year (a month after Luke admitted he liked me), in which we were separated into small groups of three with scripts to act with, and…

"So…" I mumbled into my script, looking between the pretty light-brown-haired girl and the tall brown-haired, blue-grey-eyed guy that stared at me. "Shall we start?"

I won't go into detail about the try-outs. Just that out of the three of us, the girl sucked and the guy was flat and monotonous. I was the only somewhat good one, and I didn't get into the play. For which I was very grateful—I don't like crowds or being the center of attention. Just acting in front of the thirty-or-so students trying out was nerve-racking enough to vomit.

On my way out after try-outs, the guy I'd been in a group with hurried to catch up with me, asking for my name.

"I'm Annabeth," I replied politely.

He smiled. "Nice name, Annabeth."

I nodded my thanks. "And you are?"

He smiled.

"I'm Steven."

Annabeth Speaks:

So now you know the basics. I can get into the meat of the story, which begins September of senior year.

"I'll dissolve when the rain pours in.
When the nightmares take me
I will scream with the howling wind.
'Cause it's a bitter world and I'd rather dream.
And I'd rather dream."

I know. It's short and confusing. But don't worry. All will be better explained as the story progresses. At least I introduced Steven.

Speaking of Steven: he's based on my ex-boyfriend, who very obviously did not domestically abuse me. I can still very easily make you hate Steven, and a good story villain is both liked and hated, which wouldn't work if I added in the abuse, which I don't honestly know enough about to properly form a storyline around it. So I ask you few readers and followers that are left-do I keep the abuse, or scrap it and go on with the story?

Review! Por favor!