Percy had been expecting pizza.

He was right in the middle of two shifts and starving beyond belief, so excuse him for not being friendlier when he opened the door and two disgruntled looking strangers were staring back at him instead of cheese and pepperoni.

Strange people bothering you at inconvenient times was a staple of New York life, but he wasn't in the mood for a lecture about the true faith or the endless benefits to being vegan.

The wheelchair ridden man and blond girl in front of him were not people he'd met before and the intensity of the man's gaze was unsettling

"Uh―" he fixated on the graying face directly in front of him, grasping for the easiest way to end this interaction. "Jehovah's Witnesses usually have more success next door," he said, before pushing the door shut with his hand.

Usually, this signalled that he could go on with his day, but a hand jetted out and stopped his door from fully closing, and even the accompanying thud sounded foul tempered. He groaned and considered going for his mother's stash of pepper spray until he saw the man's well meaning smile. His face was fraught with the type of wrinkles people get from smiling, and retrospectively he probably shouldn't have slammed the door in the face of an old guy in a wheelchair.

"Percy Jackson?" he ventured "My name is Chiron, and I'd like you on my team."

That was not something he had been expecting. Part of him wanted to shove the door shut again and move on, but something about the earnest expression on Chiron's face was hard to avoid.

"You know, there are more efficient ways of inducting people into your cults. Maybe try for a shiny brochure next time."

A disbelieving scoff cut through the bemused silence Chiron offered him. Percy's gaze moved to the girl leaning against the bannister opposite him. She was wearing massive sunglasses with some college sweatshirt his dyslexia prevented him from recognizing, and was looking at him with thinly veiled disgust.

"Chiron, I told you this was a waste of―" her voice cut off as Chiron placed his hand on her shoulder. Something about the way she shook her golden curls out in irritation seemed inexplicably familiar. Her face was still furrowed at him like he was something she found on the bottom of her shoe. He had been dealing with being looked down upon all his life, but for her to march up to his door in order to recruit him for whatever and still maintain her self-righteous attitude was beyond grating. Perhaps Chiron was more observant than Percy gave him credit for, because his interruption was the only thing that stopped Percy from offering a few choice words about where she could stick her superiority complex.

"Contrary to popular belief, Olympus University isn't a cult. Neither is our exy team."

Maybe this was some cruel dream, because there was no way in hell someone showed up at his apartment to talk about an Ivy League college. He took a gap year and was working two jobs just to save up for tuition at community college. Olympus University was legendary. It was the type of place someone like him would never enter, unless he was hired to clean it. Their exy team, the Spartans, had been plastered across every major sports channel for the last couple months. They were a consistent team, who rose consistently in the rankings for the last couple of years, and the addition of two first draft strikers last year was supposed to guarantee them a spot in the championship. There had been some drama that he hadn't cared enough to pay attention to that derailed their chances, and they were disqualified. Not a single sportscaster thought that they'd be able to recover, neither did most fans. Some people even thought that they would be demoted to Class II. Showing up here and asking him to join their team was proof of exactly how desperate they were.

"How did you even find me?" he asked "I'm pretty sure my high school exy coach didn't send tapes to colleges."

"He didn't have to. Your statistics speak for themselves."

Percy would be lying if he pretended he wasn't flattered. There was a point during high school where exy was the centerpoint of his life. Some of his friends even thought he was good enough to go pro one day. His subpar inner city school switched coaches right before his senior year, and Mrs. Dodds was quick to remind him that professional athletes didn't have learning disabilities or struggle to pay rent. He knew that no colleges received letters of recommendation or tapes of him playing, and an athletic scholarship would have been his only shot at continuing his education.

"Blondie's right." he admitted "You're wasting your time. College isn't something I can afford."

Chiron raised an eyebrow at that and took a thick enrollment packet out of his leather bag. Even its glossy pages looked too high class for Percy.

"We're offering you a full scholarship. All you have to do to qualify is sign on with the Spartans as a striker through graduation."

Percy almost choked. "You're not serious."

"Unfortunately, we are." the blonde girl's voice was clear and defiant and it was startling how easily the sound of it filled him with irritation. "And that's not all you have to do. If you're playing with me, you aren't going to half ass this."

"Annabeth, enough," Chiron scolded, "Try to refrain from scaring him off, please."

"Wait. You're Annabeth Chase?" his voice sounded incredulous even to his own ears and if the flush that began to spread across her face was anything to go by, that wasn't a good sign. He probably should have surmised this sooner, but the girl in front of him was wearing ratty clothes and looked like she hadn't slept in a month. Annabeth Chase was a legend. The Princess of Exy. In interviews she always was dressed to perfection and was so confident he always imagined her with a tiara. The Annabeth Chase in front of him had all the bravado that was always advertised, but she seemed broken and exhausted.

He didn't miss the way her fists clenched after that comment, and the smile she shot him as she pushed her sunglasses up to her hairline was downright terrifying.

"This season is more important than you can comprehend," she ground out, "If you're on my court you play by my rules. Don't sign on just because it's an out."

Her eyes met his in a silent challenge, and he swore to himself that he would do this, just to wipe that condescending look off her face.

"Trust me, princess. I can handle anything you throw at me." Perhaps it was the inner six year old in him, but he swore he heard cheering when she flicked her eyes away from his.

He grabbed the enrollment packet from Chiron's outstretched hands.

"When can I start?"