Disclaimer: I do not intend to seek any profits by writing fanfiction about Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus series. These books belong to Rick Riordan and no one else.
Chapter One – The Mysterious Foreign Hottie
A summer holiday abroad is awesome.
A summer holiday in Greece is good enough.
But a summer holiday in Greece with your boring uncle and crazy cousin is the worst thing ever.
I don't know why the heck my parents thought that spending some 'quality' time with a creepy old uncle would improve my behaviour and transform me into a "fine gentleman".
They could have sent me to military school. They could have sent me for a shopping trip with one of Uncle Zeus's dumb girlfriends. They could have sent me to a lot of horrible places.
Hell. They could have killed me and sent me to hell.
But forcing me to spend two months with creepy old Hades was way too extreme.
Yep. My uncle was named after the god of the Underworld.
A lot of people in my father's side of family are named after characters from Greek mythology. One of my aunts is an agriculturist and she's named after Demeter, the goddess of agriculture. My dad, who is a marine biologist, was aptly named Poseidon. His younger brother is named Zeus – and Uncle Zeus is a serial womanizer, just like his namesake.
(No wonder my parents didn't want me to spend the summer with him)
And I'm Perseus Jackson, but everyone calls me Percy.
I would love to tell you that I'm a really handsome guy, I get perfect grades and I excel at sports. I would love to describe about all the girls who fell in love with my winning personality.
Oh, how I wish I could have fooled you!
But truth is, I'm a black sheep. I'm nearly flunking almost all of my classes. My teachers hate my guts. Girls hardly look at me (not that I care. Most of them are shallow, anyway). I have a very few friends. I'm one of those guys who play basketball during dances in school. I'm one of those guys who doesn't sweep you off your feet with grand romantic gestures.
When my father saw my report card, he was not angry.
He was ready to bury me alive.
He yelled his head off at me and swore so many times that it would give my grandmother a heart attack.
Finally, he decided that I needed "disciplining".
Sadly, even my mom – my sweet and understanding mom – agreed.
My parents don't agree on anything, especially after their divorce.
Let's just say I was appalled when the both of them told me that I was to spend my holidays with Uncle Hades.
At that time, I didn't know how I could be disciplined under the influence of a middle-aged divorcee who had made it big in Greece by establishing a successful life insurance company.
I definitely didn't know that my life would change drastically the minute I bumped into the princess of a small European country.
It started off as a normal day.
I was standing outside the McDonald's outlet in Syntagma Square. My cousin Nico was inside, getting our parcelled orders — the lunch that we would have for today as we sightseed.
Yep. I was on my Athens sightseeing tour with my creepy thirteen-year-old cousin.
The day I arrived here, Uncle Hades had dumped me in his old Plaka house with his son Nico and had gone off on a "business" trip to Epirus.
Talk about a responsible adult.
It had been three days since I'd reached Athens. I'd been forced to spend those three days explaining the American culture to Nico. Nico, on the other hand, told me a lot about the funeral cultures and death deities who he had been studying since the age of eight.
Oh yes, people. When most kids couldn't study for their exams, my demented cousin studied about death.
When I heard about it the first day, I felt like I could swoon like a ditzy romance novel heroine. The second day when I was forced to listen to stories of various death gods, I felt like puking. The third day, I actually puked on Nico's bed and then dropped unconscious right on top of it.
And today was the fourth day – the sightseeing day.
Thank God Nico finally got some sense today and decided that he had to give me a sightseeing tour.
First, he called up Uncle Hades and asked whether he could take me to some of the places near Plaka. Instead of fretting and warning like most parents do, all Uncle Hades said was this:
"Just ensure that you bring him back home with his limbs intact."
I wonder how on earth my parents thought that this man was a mature, responsible adult.
Anyway. So we went to the Museum of Greek Folk Art and to a souvenir shop next to it.
Now, here I was, outside McDonald's. Waiting for Nico. And watching the huge crowd of tourists clicking pictures manically.
The crowd here is maddening, I thought, presently. But the architecture is nice. I think Rachel would like that.
Rachel Elizabeth Dare was one of the only girls who would talk to me without sneering. She was one of my best friends, along with Grover Underwood.
I wondered what they'd be doing right now.
It was two p.m. in Athens, right now. So that meant it was around seven in the morning.
Rachel was probably sleeping and she wouldn't wake up till twelve in the afternoon. Grover, on the other hand, would be up and he would be rushing towards the
"Here's your order, Perseus!" Nico chirped, breaking me away from my trail of thoughts and handing me my Happy Meal.
Don't look at me weirdly.
Frankly speaking, I really wanted to say no when he'd . I've hated Happy Meals since I was a kid. I never got the toys of my choice and I got a lot of girly miniature dolls instead of the Hot Wheels cars I'd always desired.
Yeah, I am not a fan of Happy Meals. It was all Nico. He didn't even ask me what I wanted. He just squealed like a five-year-old at the sight of the McDonald's logo and said, We're getting Happy Meals right now!
"It's Percy." I said, tired of reminding this kid God knows how many times that my name wasn't Perseus.
Nobody called me Perseus, except my dad when he was ticked off and Rachel, when she wanted to annoy me.
We were now walking away from McDonald's, immersing into the crowd of tourists. Nico had now started talking about all the rituals in a Grecian funeral. I tried not to feel grossed out. Instead, I concentrated more on keeping my Happy Meal burger safe, careful not to let it slip from my fingers and fall on the ground.
Unfortunately though, I fell.
I don't really remember how it happened. I was trying not to doze off as Nico described passionately about Greek funerals. We were in Plaka, the neighbourhood where Uncle Hades lived.
Like New York, Plaka was infested with tourists. I wondered how Uncle Hades, a man who hated people in general, could live in this area.
For a second, I felt a twinge of pity for my crazy uncle.
And, the houses here were very expensive. According to mom (who made it a habit to drop in facts about Uncle Hades weeks before I landed here), Uncle Hades had to work hard for twenty years to get to this place in life.
That's why, mom had concluded, I had to spend time with Uncle Hades so that I learn to become a "dedicated" and "hardworking" man as him.
Yeah, right.
I'd rather spend my days teaching kids how to ride on a skateboard than make money off people's deaths.
(Yeah, that's what life insurance is about. Deaths.)
"So, you have to give a funeral speech – known here as epitaphios logos – where people give a speech about the dead person. In Ancient Greece, it was a compulsion to give epitaphios logos."
If Nico kept talking about death, I bet no one would give an epitaphios logos in his funeral.
"Well, that's like the modern eulogy, right?" I said, wanting to end the topic. "I mean, there's not much –"
That's when she ran into me.
The Happy Meal flew off my hands and crashed onto the pavement. I fell down, flat on my back.
I only had time to exclaim, "What the f–?" when she fell on top of me.
"O me paenitet!" She grunted. She got off me, hitting my stomach with her bony elbow more than once.
I wish I could tell you that I said something real slick like, "No trouble, pretty lady!"
All I could manage was this:
"Uh – uh –"
What I notice at first was her hair.
It was blonde and had princess-y curls, kinda like how I imagined Cinderella's hair to be. It seemed sleek around the scalp and looked rough around the tips. Her hair was faintly lemon-scented and how strange, I liked that smell.
Then, I saw her face – or what I could see of her face.
She had sharp features – a slim jawline, red lips and a sharp, pointed nose. I noticed there was no makeup apart from the redness of the lips. Perched on her aquiline nose was a pair of huge sunglasses.
The kind of sunglasses which spoilt-rotten popular girls in my school wore.
For a second, I felt that she was from California, because of her tan. Then, I realised that she had jabbered something in a weird, foreign language.
Languages were never my cup of tea.
And no Californian girl wore full-sleeved blouses, knee-length skirts and expensive-looking sunglasses from Bucci, Trada or whatever the heck those fashion houses were called.
"Is he mute?" She asked Nico, who looked as dumbstruck as I felt.
"Not usually," Nico shrugged his shoulders. "But I guess he seems pretty upset that he lost his Happy Meal. And yeah, he only knows English."
I don't understand how Nico could assume that I was quiet because I lost a meal that I've always hated.
"I am so sorry!" She whirled to face me, her curls hitting her face as she turned. "Here," She held out her hand.
"Uh, I'm Percy." I shook her hand, smiling awkwardly. "Nice to meet you!"
And thank you so much, Miss Mysterious Foreign Hottie, for ending that depressing conversation about funerals with my mad cousin.
"I did not ask for introductions." She said, her tone seeming slightly irritated. "You may get up now, sir. The tourists might be staring at you."
"Oh, oh," I said, realizing that she'd only held out her hand to help me up.
I took her hand and got up, a silly smile plastered on my face.
I don't know why I felt so – fluttery? – around this girl. As a rule, I never really talked to girls except Rachel and Silena Beauregard (the only cheerleader who cared about people more than her pretty face). I hated talking to girls because most of them seemed way too complicated and a lot of them were too proud to talk to me.
But she seemed different. She looked pretty, but somehow, I had a feeling that she would be a lot smarter than our class valedictorian.
"What's your name?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
However, as usual, my voice didn't sound the way I wanted it to sound. It was shrill and squeaky, as though I was mimicking a crazy One Direction fan girl.
Instead of her name, a horrified gasp escaped from her lips.
"Abi in malam rem!" She cried, looking at something behind me. "Quomodo autem id potuit?Primum cur inter me? Meo quidem ego semper futura subiecta!"
"What did she just say?" I whirled to Nico.
"How should I know?" Nico shook his head, looking puzzled.
I honestly felt like I could strangle this kid.
He could tell you about stupid death rituals but could not understand the language of the country that he's lived in all his life!
"What happened?" I questioned, waving my hand in front of her face.
"Stulti! Stulti! Quis tam stulte?" She wailed. "Stulti! Stulti! Stulti!"
"What stool –?"
"I have to go!" She wailed. "I'm sorry for your package but I have to rush! I can't wait any longer"
"Goodbye!" Nico chirped.
"Wait!" I demanded. "What are you talking about?"
Instead of replying, she pushed me aside hard and disappeared into the crowd of Chinese tourists to the left.
Guess what?
I was pushed backwards and I fell.
Again.
And this time, I fell on my butt. On top of the Happy Meal Burger that had escaped from its package.
"Oh damn," I let out a few choice swear-words, something which my mom shouldn't hear.
"Where do you want to head next, Perseus?" Nico enquired, completely
God, this kid was either blind or completely hell-bent on irritating me.
"I'd like to go home, please." I said. "I'm really tired, man."
Plus, in case you can't notice. I'm sitting on a burger right now. The contents of which might have made a very – as Rachel would say – effervescent and gaudy pattern.
"But we haven't seen a lot of places yet!" Nico protested.
"How 'bout we come here again, tomorrow?" I suggested.
"Okay." Nico said, looking dejected. A second later, his face brightened and he added, "How about I take you to the local cemetery, then? It's a REALLY wicked place and they say, all the old ghosts gather outside if you toss them meals. We can toss our meals – I mean my meal, now that you've ruined yours by sitting on it – and call them! That'd be so awesome!"
When most girls loved to talk about their boyfriends and clothes, Nico loved to talk about deaths and funerals.
Besides, of all the places he could've taken me (like, home), Nico wanted to take me to a cemetery of all the places.
"Look Nico," I said, getting up slowly. Discreetly, I whipped off my hoodie (yeah, I wore hoodies in the scorching hot weather) and tied the sleeves around my waist, so that the, ahem, artistic portion was very well-covered from the eyes of delirious tourists.
"Look where?" He asked, his black eyes as big as Bambi's.
"I don't want to go anywhere except home." I said, trying to sound mature.
I'm pretty sure, had Rachel and Grover been here right now, they would have burst out laughing.
"All right," Nico said dejectedly. Then, he perked up and added breathlessly, "Why don't I tell you more about the Grecian funerals, Perseus? When we reach home, I can teach you the wonders of Mythomagic!"
Oh boy.
I'd much rather spend a day in silence sitting next to Uncle Hades than listen to this crazy kid talk about freaky stuff like Death and geeky games.
A/N: This is an AU, slightly inspired from the idea of Roman Holiday – yeah, that 50s movie starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck.
This seems slightly silly, but I promise you that it'll get better as it progresses. Aaaand it is unedited.
Love it, hate it, confused by it? Do one thing: review! :D