A/N: Hi, this takes place during The Titan's Curse. Rachel's POV. Enjoy! PS: Again, I had no references, so I'm not sure if some things are completely correct. But whatever! Thanks, and review!

Rachel

I remember being so angry with my dad, so mad at him for many different reasons. He was so dense, he didn't even know I was upset with him. Of course, that only wanted to make me repeatedly stab him even more.

He thought that after three quarters of a year of pretending I didn't exist (And I quote: "Rach, I'm busy, why don't you go do something... Else?"), he could sweep me away on a "dream" vacation along with my uncaring mother (I'm not kidding, I think she has a condition). His idea of a great "dream" vacation? The Hoover Dam. Really, Dad? A dam?

I'm what he calls a "Tree Hugger" so he thought I'd like to visit a dam (yes, a humongous slab of cement with lots of water on one side; super interesting) rather than an art museum or a poverty stricken area of Africa. I guess he thought there was no possibly way I'd like to quietly look at the work of famous artists or feed starving children. I don't think he knows the definition of tree-hugger.

"Dad," I hissed as we step out of the car and into the open air. I'm not even sure what it felt like. All I know is that I was red-faced from annoyance and that heat was rolling of my body like an avalanche. I had ridden over in my dad's fancy car, and he insisted we keep the heat up so it'd feel like summer.

I wanted to pummel him for forcing me down here without telling me where we were going beforehand. He said, "Welcome to the Hoover Dam!" and I was ready to explode.

"Why?" I continued, my fists tightening. I had to keep reminding myself not to punch him in the gut. "Why here?" And then I sneezed, which reminded me that I had the most annoying cold that week. It started as vacation began, and it'd been constantly bothering me since. Hey, just like my dad.

My dad grinned all happily while we walked towards the thing and said, "Isn't it great?"

At that moment he reminded me a little of a lost puppy, but I wasn't in the mood for playing fetch.

"A dam?" I said, incredulous.

My dad only shrugged. How clueless can he get? Ugh, men. "Yeah," he said, looking the slightly offended by my tone. "I thought since you were... Well, uhm. I'm not sure how to put this... I thought you liked things like this? Because you're, uhm... Nature friendly, and artsy. Sort of a hipster. I hear hipsters are very in these days. Honestly, I think-"

"I'm what?" I challenged with a raised eyebrow. Somehow, it was only okay when I labeled myself.

"Well, yeah. That is what you are, right?" he says, stupidly.

"Most hipsters are fake people who only like certain things because they're really obscure. They do anything to be different. A lot like me, actually… Dad, even if I was a hipster, this is a horrible place to bring one," I lied, because let's face it; if no one likes going to the Hoover Dam, then hipsters must love it. "Seriously, didn't you know dams stop fish from swimming up river? And they collect silt? Plus, dams can cause rivers to just.. die out. Take the Colorado river, right here," I blew my nose into a kleenex I'd stored in my pocket, "For instance. This one just stops flowing when it reaches the desert. It didn't used to be like that. Dams are an obstruction. I don't really like them. At all."

"Well, are they better than Nuclear Power Plants?" My dad countered in a very clumsy way. You'd think as a business man, he'd be better at arguing with his daughter, "It's just one river, Rach. Let it go. Enjoy the place."

"We couldn't have gone somewhere else? Like France? We could've seen the Louvre!" I whined. I know, I sounded like I was seven, but I love art, not dams. Definitely not dams. I angrily wiped my nose.

My dad sighed, sounding annoyed. "Rach, we aren't going to the Louvre, we're already here at the Hoover Dam. Now stop complaining. You're not the only one on vacation."

With that, he joined my mother twenty feet ahead of us walking towards the center part of the large structure, where you can walk and see either side of it. Despite all my griping, it was really amazing looking. On one side, it reminded me of one of those skater rinks that look like emptied out pools, only much more severe. It sloped almost vertically, and made me wonder how awful it would feel to fall down that. On the other side, there was a glittering lake that was about ten feet from where I leaned over to look at it.. It was disorienting, because there's an emptied-out side, and one that's full of water to the top, nearly. I felt like I was tipping.

My dad looked over his shoulder and called to me, saying "We're gonna take a tour down there in a few minutes. Meet us inside that brown glass building."

I nodded to him absently as he walked away and I continued surveying my surroundings.

Sometimes, if I blocked out the silence and only focused on the fact that he brought me to a beautiful place and the three of us were together, we seemed like a happy family... I felt okay. I felt normal. But then, he'd pull out a hundred dollar bill and ask if anyone had change for a five. My mother wouldn't look embarrassed. She wouldn't look like anything at all; just there, as if she were from the outside, looking in.

It would all be whisked away and I'd edge away from these people who called themselves my parents. Why were we so different?

"Hey, mom." I whispered when I finally entered the building. She looked over eyes that ever quite focused on me.

"Yes?"

"Um. Do you.. I don't know, wanna buy t-shirts? We can match."

"Hmm," she said, as if she were thoughtful, but I knew she never felt as if she had a choice. For her, there was always only one thing; herself. "You can get yourself one, dear, but I'll pass. Gift shop's over there." My attempt to engage my mother had failed, as it always did.

I walked to the shop and purchased two shirts. One for me and one for my dad. If there was one thing that made me angrier than my father, it was my mother.

Most of the time, it felt as if my father was my only real family.

We were in a packed elevator heading down into the dam for a tour.

Dad wandered off at some point. I saw him last when his face brightened as I handed him the damn dam t-shirt (I'm hilarious.). I apologized for my behavior, and said that I really did kind of enjoy Hoover Dam. It was pretty. He was so happy, he hugged me and I was actually kind of happy, too. But then, Dad had to go and ruin it by asking if I wanted to go to that all girls boarding school. I replied, "Ha-ha. NO!" and then I walked away. No, but seriously, I'm not setting foot in that school.

I realized I desperately had to pee as I entered the lift.

The elevator seemed to take forever to reach it's destination. I jiggled my foot violently and accidently kicked the lady in front of me several times. She and what I assumed was her friend kept whipping around and casting me the dirtiest looks I've ever experienced.

"Mom," I whispered urgently as we were getting out of the annoyingly packed elevator, "Do they have a bathroom here?"

She turned towards me, her flawless face nearly void of emotion. Every time I looked into her iridescent eyes, I was reminded of how many jokes were never shared between us, how little we talked, how often I didn't see her. I was reminded that she would buy clothes, go to the spa, and read magazines, while I would speak out, do messy forms of art, and raise money for causes my dad could easily pay for (but never does).

My mother turned to the guide.

"Ahem! Excuse me? Is there a bathroom somewhere around here, sir?" she called to him. After seeing her beauty, he immediately blushed bright red, and agreed to lead her there. I thought it was pretty unprofessional of him to leave our group by itself until I spotted another guide, a woman, with us. I followed the lanky form of the male guide and my mother's fit hourglass shape halfway to the bathroom before the guide stiffened. He spun around.

"And why aren't you with the group, young lady?" He said through grit teeth. He wanted some "alone time" with my mom. Gross.

I smiled sweetly.

"She's my mother! I asked her if there was a bathroom, and she asked you," I replied with a good amount of sass.

The guide was obviously embarrassed and I noticed he took a step away from my mom. Good.

My mom sighed, disappointed in me as the guide turned away and began walking in the direction we came.

"Alright, well. Thank you, Carl, for those detailed directions." She turned to me, "Honey, just keep going for a little while and turn. He said it's not very hard to find…"

Mother brushed past me and clicked down the corridor, in pursuit of the attractive guide, sliding on her Gucci sunglasses. How did that help at all down here? There was no sun, therefore, hello, no need for sunglasses! I was mostly angry because I knew my mother wanted to sleep with Carl. She didn't seem to care about my well-meaning dad.

I shrugged to myself, accustomed to my mom's behavior, and continued to the bathroom. I did my business, taking my time (I hoped the tour would be over by the time I was done.) and left to go back to the group.

I returned while the tour guide was blabbing about useless information (the only thing I wanted to know is how environmentally friendly they thought the place was). The crowd was weirdly still, no shuffling, except for a boy with his back to me. He moved through the crowd, towards where I was. I squinted, because I didn't remember him being in the elevator... No, I was the only kid in on the tour. I pondered this as I studied him. Soon he was standing in front of me. In that moment, some snot decided to try and make a break from my nose and I instinctively pulled out a kleenex and blew into it.

Naturally, the boy in front of me spun around, a glowing bronze sword in his hands and pointed directly at my neck. I yelped, earning me two annoyed looks from the women I kicked in the elevator, but I ignored them. I turned my attention back to the surprisingly cute (No, really. If you only saw his face. Male-model perfection. Speaking of which, he'd look great in golden body paint. Which I could paint on him.. Yes... Good idea, Rachel...) guy with an astonished look on his face.

"Do you always try to kill people who sneeze?" I asked him incredulously, through my shock.

That is when my life began to change.