Percy Jackson is a top celebrity—his perfectly-chiseled face is known across America, his photos are always front cover, and his movies are the best thing since high heels. So what happens when he meets Annabeth Chase, just an extraordinarily normal girl, by complete accident? And what happens when he falls head over heels? Annabeth has never been into celebrities. Has never heard of this Percy Jackson. So why is it that whenever she sees his face, she feels magnetically pulled toward it? Can two utterly different people—a big celebrity hot-shot and a small-town girl—live in the spotlight? Or will their love be crushed under the paparazzi's feet?

Percy's POV

It was totally an accident.

I never saw her coming, never expected it. I just hit her, as if magnetically pulled.

Cars honked in the distance as I turned the corner, bumping nose to nose with the cutest person I had ever met.

The girl looked shyly up at me, revealing two big, stormy eyes. They were like something out of a Disney movie—huge and round and lined with delicate lashes. Her hair fell gracefully down to her shoulders, a waterfall of golden curls. Everything about her was fragile, like porcelain.

"What do you think you're doing?" She spat, her tone surprising me.

"Uuuhhh…" I blinked, stretching the vowel out. "Nothing, I just—"

"Watch where you're going," she advised snidely, picking up her now-fallen bag.

I stared at her big eyes, startled. Beautiful and sassy.

"Why are you still watching me?" She snapped, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

I shrugged, smiling, "Maybe it's because you're so approachable."

She glared at me, then sighed. "Annabeth Chase. Just trying to get around New York."

I grinned, "Percy Jackson. Just trying not to run into people."

There was the name: Percy Jackson. Only the biggest, brightest name of the year. Six time Oscar award winner, three best picture awards, the number-one voted actor of the year. Percy Jackson: celebrity. Percy Jackson: most-wanted guy in America.

I half-expected her to scream and squeal at my name, but nothing happened. She just stared at me. Eventually, I coughed and looked down at the ground again.

She cocked her head, "You certainly don't live here, do you?"

I winced. "Is it that obvious?"

Annabeth never replied. Instead, she quickly readjusted her bag and smiled firmly.

"So, what brings you to the Big Apple?"

I looked up at the many rows of buildings. "The experience, I guess," I spoke, "Everyone has to go to New York at least once in their lives."

She nodded sourly. "Yeah, it's an awesome experience if you go once over the holidays. It's a whole other hell living here forever."

I processed it quietly, then asked, "You're sure you don't recognize me?"

She laughed nervously, "No. Well… If you're the guy who always hangs out by the drug store, believe me, you're ruining the business. People are scared of you. Is that you? The guy that—"

I laughed, "No, I'm pretty sure I'm not."

She looked curiously for a moment, then smiled firmly, "In that case… Goodbye, Percy Jackson."

I smiled happily, "Goodbye, Annabeth Chase."

And in a flash, the girl of my dreams was gone.

My manager, Chiron, was on a rampage.

Ah, the perks of being a celebrity: having a manager, living the dream, and listening to rages.

I sat, perched on a fluffy sofa, listening to the yelling and screaming. Chiron was ripping my assistant, Rachel, a new one. She had apparently been taking my things and selling them for thousands on ebay. It was, in a way, flattering that someone would pay so much for something of mine. Then again, I would probably want someone to ask permission before they started selling.

Chiron's cheeks flushed red with anger as he ordered my assistant, Rachel, out of the room. Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed my coat and ran.

Ah, the terrors of being a celebrity: fan obsessions, ebay-selling girls, and constant problems.

Chiron sighed as soon as Rachel scampered out of the room.

"That's the third one fired this week," I said, lounging on a brand new sofa. "Are there any assistants that aren't head over heels for me?"

Chiron laughed, "You are the ladies' man, aren't you, Percy?"

I winked at him, grabbing a soda can from the mini fridge and popping open the tab.

"You know me too well, Chiron."

"Indeed," he laughed, "Well enough to know that you want another assistant here by noon?"

I shrugged, sipping my soda. Was there any girl on this planet that wouldn't try to hug me, squeal at me, kiss me? Scratch that. Was there any girl even worth kissing?

Then my mind clicked.

I suddenly remembered someone. Someone who wouldn't treat me like a celebrity. Someone who would treat me like a normal, ordinary person. Someone from New York.

"Chiron," I said, picking my words carefully, "I think I know who I want to be my assistant."

"Oh no," he started, "Not that dreaded Miley Cyrus—"

"No," I chuckled, "Look up the name… Annabeth Chase."