Aphrodite's POV:

What a beautiful summer morning. It's the perfect day to go couple-watching! Of course, I can go anywhere to spy and collect potential gossip. But one of my favorite sites is Camp Half-Blood. So many young demigods! So many lovely pairs! I love it there. But I'm not going to go just for that. I need to spread the spirit. I need to make the girls pretty, sneak love potion into the drinks, turn Camp Half-Blood into a valley of love.

Of course, though, I can't go like this.

I get out of my bed and rush over to the mirror that takes up all of the wall. My hair is perfect, still in the beautiful bun I fixed last night. But that's boring. It's old already. Twelve hours of one hairdo? Unthinkable! I take out the bun and labor over perfecting my fishtail braid for a good thirty minutes. Finally, it's as good as it can possibly get. Of course it is. I made it!

Next, I inspect my lipstick. It's perfect, not smeared at all. But it's too dull a red. Obviously, that must change. I wipe it off, and apply a think layer of red Brighty Aphrodite. It's my brand. Mine! I made it up a century ago. it's my favorite. It's the best. Of course it is: I invented it! After another ten minutes, I'm sure my lips are as perfect as can be.

Oh, and my makeup! I sleep with it on, of course. I have to be beautiful in my dreams, don't I? But it's quite unflattering this morning. I forgot to reapply my eye shadow last night, so it's dull. I pull out my box of Brighty Aphrodite eye shadow, and I spend the next twenty minutes putting it on. Soon, it's beautiful, so beautiful that I look like Aphrodite. Oh, wait, I am Aphrodite. Like usual, the thought cheers me up.

Oh, no, my ball gown nighty! It isn't rumpled at all, of course - that would be a disaster. But it's not at all suitable for a couple-watching adventure at Camp Half-Blood. No, I must wear something else. I go to my huge closet and ruffle through my dresses. After half an hour or so, I choose a dress. It's bright red and strapless, and it goes to my thighs. On the tag on the back there is a pink heart, and the words Brighty Aphrodite are written in it. I take off my ball gown nighty and put on the gorgeous red dress. It's beautiful!

I'm not done yet. I eat a muffin (daintily, of course) and go over to my shoe cabinet. It's huge - seven shelves, and ten feet across. I go through the cabinet, checking out each and every pair of shoes. What shall I wear? Hmm... It takes me quite a while, but I finally pick out a great glass pair, with seven-inch heels. Glass! I feel like Cinderella. (Except Cinderella wasn't as beautiful, of course. But somehow, she got all the princes. Still, I think she had the right idea.) I slip into the heels. I love them already.

I walk over to the mirror by the door. I stare in awe at the beauty who stands in front of me. She has Brighty Aphrodite makeup, a Brighty Aphrodite dress, and Brighty Aphrodite shoes. And her hairstyle is one of the hairstyles recommended by the Brighty Aphrodite magazine. She's, like, a walking advertisement for my favorite company. Oh, how I admire this woman in the mirror...mirror! She's me! Oh, wow, I'm so beautiful. Even I'm astounded. Well, of course I am. I have good taste.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall," I say dreamily, "who is the beautifullest of them all?"

There is a beeping noise, and a tinny voice responds, "Error. Error. Error with the word 'beautifullest'."

I groan. "Mirror, did Hephaestus meddle with you? Did he come by recently?"

The mirror responds, "Yes. Hephaestus came at 3:09 PM on July 28th."

"Yeah, and did he do anything?"

"Yes."

"What?" I ask in annoyance. This mirror needs direct questions.

"Would you like to see the security video?"

"There's a security video?" I ask in surprise. "Well, then yes! I would very much like to see it."

The mirror blacks out, and a different scene shows up: The room is plain and empty. I'm out, probably. Then, the door opens. I gasp. It's a man with singed black hair and dark skin. Hephaestus. Quickly, he scans the room. Realizing I'm not there, he turns toward the camera. His hand reaches up, and... The screen blots out.

The mirror beeps again. "Error. Error. Camera disabled. Certain portions blocked."

What did he do? Well, besides mess with the spelling recognizing feature thing? And he disabled the camera, so now I can't even see what he was doing. Seriously, Hephaestus? You just had to make life hard. You do know I prefer Ares, right?

I toss my hair, and - oh, wait! My hair's still black! It's been black for almost twenty-four hours! Oh, no. A complete day of one hair color! No way that can stay. So, I use my awesome magical hair color changing powers to shift the color to a whitish blond. No, no. Not that. It doesn't go well with my red dress at all. So I change it again, this time into a fiery red. Oh, yes. This one's good. It matches my dress!

Finally, nearly two hours after waking up, I'm ready to go couple-watching. I transport myself down to Camp Half-Blood - I'm enveloped by a cloak of darkness. When it recedes, I find myself in a strawberry field. Cabins and Greek buildings are scattered throughout the valley. There's a large, modern-looking four-story house across the field.

The Big House. The camp headquarters, sort of.

I walk through the rows of strawberry plants. I pick one, and bite into it. A sharp, bitter taste fills my mouth. Ugh. Bad strawberries. Hmm. When's strawberry season? No idea. Oh, well. It cheers me up to notice that the plants are leaning toward me. They love me, I see. Look, even strawberry plants are romantic!

So this is Camp Half-Blood. I'd forgotten. This is my first time visiting since...the last time I came was...I think it was about a century ago. No, wait. A decade? Uh...less than a decade? Sometime in the last millennia? Probably. I don't remember. Why keep track of the years when you're me? When you're beautiful? When you're the goddess of love?

Exactly. There's no reason.

I reach the porch of the Big House. Among several satyrs, two people sit there: a centaur and a man in a purple shirt. The centaur must be Dionysus, and the man is... Oh, I think I mixed that up. The man is Dionysus, banished god of wine. More commonly known as the Wine Dude (don't tell him I said that). And the centaur is...

When I step onto the porch, the centaur stands up hurriedly, and then kneels. I stand there, basking in the glory of it all, but then Dionysus says, "Oh, get up. It's not like it's such a marvelous event to have a goddess here."

The centaur stands up, and addresses me. "Lady Aphrodite," he says. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. Um, what brings you here?"

I stare at him. "Charon?"

The centaur Charon's tail flicks. "Actually, it's Chiron."

I frown. "Then who's Charon?"

Chiron grimaces. "Charon is the man who boats the dead to the underworld. He's currently in California, if you're looking for him. Los Angeles, more specifically, I believe."

"Oh, him," I say. "No, I'm not looking for this Underworld ferry guy. I'm not dead. Do I look like it? And so why exactly would I be looking for him? So I can watch the lines of dead mortals?"

"Probably not," Chiron admits. "But you did ask if I was Charon. I just had to make sure you hadn't come here by mistake. And so, Lady Aphrodite, what brings you to Camp Half-Blood?"

"What brings me here?" I muse. "Why did I come to camp?"

Because the campers deserve my attention? Because I think they're too ugly? Because there isn't enough romance? Because I want to fix those, and bring love and beauty to my children's home? By using love potion and makeovers?

Because I just want to cause mischief?

"Well, Chiron," I finally say, "you'll just have to wait and see."


A/N: Dun dun dun...

This is my second story. Aphrodite's going to be causing some mayhem. I'm going to be writing a few more chapters, but I'm going to camp on Monday for three or so weeks, so I can't update until then.

So, please drop a review, tell me what you think, and stay awesome!