Chapter 8

Nico

This absolute agony-it's welled up inside of me for so long, filling me to the brim. The pain's divulged to every part of my body: my chest feels like it's been clawed open, like all I can see are blood and tears splattered everywhere, the air surrounding me is so dank and humid that no matter how much I gasp and scream and cry, my lungs always fail me, and the sky is crashing down, down on everything I've ever known, down all because of a single person.

And I thought I was the only one dumb enough to cling to a broken ideal. I guess not.

/Line Break/

I wake up to an aching back and a throbbing head, opening my tired eyes to the hardwood floor of my room. I sit up in confusion, and glimpse a tan, muscular arm hanging off the side of my bed. I rise cautiously, unprepared to start my day with having to kick someone out of my house, but find an unconscious Percy instead, his calm, restful face drooling on my black comforter. Watching his chest rise and fall, matching with the soft inhales and exhales from his parted lips, I try to piece together my muddled memories from last night.

All my life, I've never known what to expect from people; I'm not good at reading, interacting, or communicating with them at all. I've never bothered at getting better at it mainly because I'm too entrenched in my own thoughts most of the time. My naive indifference always leads to others getting frustrated with me, but I can't help but get sucked into the black hole of my consciousness. I constantly feel like I'm drowning in it.

At one point, it became too much. I became too sensitive to the meaning behind everyone's actions and words, to what anything in life even means, so much that I lived in a world painted in constant paranoia. But in those two years with Will, I developed the deepest sentiment I've ever had for anybody, so deep it filled the holes in my heart. But eventually, it evolved into an emotion too deep that I got lost in it.

Under flashing neon lights and the blaring scream of guitar chords and bass drums, I found love in a boy named Will. We were both fifteen at a rock concert in Madison Square Garden-just two boys living for the music. We had seats next to each other, and on seeing we were both wearing the same Metallica t-shirt, Will struck up a conversation with me. I had never been more elated in my life, talking to a cute blonde boy with the same exultant passion for music as me. We screamed the lyrics to every single song and danced like idiots, head banging and yelling until the music ended. After the concert, we talked more and discovered that we lived in adjacent towns. Excitedly, we promised to hang out as soon as possible.

With time, our relationship grew deeper and deeper. We started dating sixth months after we met, and it was just about the happiest time of my life. We'd go to music concerts together, go to the record shops in both of our towns, play music and jam to the classics and some underground rock. We were always on the same wavelength with our music tastes, talking about what a legend John Lennon was to rock and roll, how Aardvark was so under appreciated, how Greg Ginn was the best guitarist of his time. We knew how to get each other excited-we just got each other.

He really did hold the sky in his eyes-so brazenly blue, they burned my heart. When I finally came to realize the love I had for him was not being fully reciprocated, it was already too late. He had slipped away from me, his short attention span already pulling him away from me. I was trying to catch the moonlight in broad day; so lost in my own love, that I lost sight of who I was even in love with.

The thing that finally broke me was finding out that Will cheated on me during the last year of our relationship. He told me one day when we met up in Astoria, him arriving two hours late without an ounce of apology in his face or demeanor.

"Neeks, we really need to talk. When I said we were over, I really did mean it. I feel like you're trying to cling to something that doesn't exist anymore. To tell the truth, Neeks, I never liked you that much. You were always so clingy, and you still are. I needed someone a little less suffocating, so I...started seeing someone else while we were dating. I'm sorry you had to find out, but I feel like it's the only thing that'll help you break away from me. It was fun while it lasted, but I think we should really stop seeing each other. For good."

The memory of his face flashes in my mind, then disappears just as quickly. A ghost of his affection is branded within me, and hurts me just thinking about him. The words reverberate, echo, re-play uncontrollably in my head, the image of the blonde-haired boy walking away from me forever. The damn memories are the worst affliction of all.

Watching the broken boy sleep makes me think of new beginnings, of possibly filling the trenches Will left behind. But I can't do that to him, I can't love him for the mere sake of loving someone. I can't give him that pain.

And I still don't know the full story of what happened last night. I'm not sure if calling people in the middle of the night mind numbingly drunk is a normal thing for him. Hell, I've only really known him for a week and we didn't even get along that great to begin with.

Then why did he call me? Was he so drunk he had no idea what he was doing? Or did he actually want me?

By the time I realize he's waking up, it's too late. I become conscious of the fact that I'm sitting on my bed next to him, staring at his sleeping face as he opens his eyes. He probably thinks I'm weird. Fuck.

"G-good morning?" Percy says in a gravelly voice, its lilted phrasing making it sound like a question. His cheeks were rosy and flushed. I smile at him awkwardly, unsure of what to start with.

"Do you...remember last night?" I hope he does. I need to know what happened. Getting a call from an unknown number in the middle of the night from someone saying that they "did something really bad" was terrifying enough. When I realized it was Percy, I only became more panicked. His voice, heavy and airy, like he couldn't catch his breath, constantly being interrupted by gasping sobs was the only reason I kept on with the conversation. I couldn't consciously abandon him knowing that something was drastically wrong.

Percy gives me a sleepy grin, and my heart skips a beat. "This is a dream, right?" he sighs, then furrows his forehead. "But my head's pounding like a motherfucker."

"What kind of dreams are you having, Jackson?" I sputter, my arm aching to knock him over the head. "Actually, I don't want know. I don't have time to perform a reenactment of last night for you, so I'll just sum it up-you called me at one in the fucking morning, completely drunk, like a blubbering pathetic little wuss, saying you did something bad. Now, care to explain?"

The sleepiness in his eyes is replaced by a hard, stoic look. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he bites.

I blink, affronted. "If you don't know, then why the fuck are you being so defensive?"

He looks down to the bedsheets, bitterness sounding in every word. "Like you said, I was drunk. How much of the night do you expect me to remember?"

His face shows no sign of giving in,so I continue. "Okay...we'll start slow, then. Where did you go before you got drunk?"

He pauses a beat. "Jay's house."

"...Jay?"

He sighs in annoyance. "Jason Grace. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, the teenage incarnation of Captain America. Also my best friend…" He pauses as if the words got caught in his throat.

"Alright, so you went to Jason's house, probably around seven, right? Was it a party?"

"No, he just invited me for a couple of drinks. And then we started talking. And he told me...he said…" He clenches his eyes, his shoulders shaking. "He told me that I'm hot."

I have an overwhelming urge to laugh hysterically. All of that bitching and crying because I guy called him hot? Christ, I'd pay to have Jason Grace call me hot.

I manage to contain myself, and continue hesitantly. "So...what exactly is the problem…?"

Percy looks like he's on the verge of tears, and I instantly regret wanting to laugh. Long tan fingers grip his black locks and he shoves his face into the crook of his elbows.

"Nico. I'm gay."

"So am I."

"You don't fucking get it, do you?" he yells. "Unlike you, I can't afford to prance around and let the whole world know I'm gay. Do you realize what would happen if I told people? The entire school would shun me, call me a fucking fag, try to make my life as miserable as possible. And don't even get me started on my mom-she'd just kick me out. I wouldn't doubt it for a second. No one would take me seriously, no one would care about me anymore, I just can't, I can't be gay." Sobs wrack through his body. Bluish-green veins protrude from his hands, hands that are shaking so hard I feel the need to hold them down. I find myself completely useless, unable to comprehend the weight of his emotions. Fuck, is this town really that bad?

I lightly place my hand on his, trying to calm him down. Everything is silent except for his wet sobs.

"I-I mean Jason did it. H-he is, was my best friend. Fuck...he knew...he knew and he still did that...he went against me...treats me like a piece of shit...our friendship didn't matter to him..."

As Percy attempts to string a sentence together through his sobbing, I try my hardest to keep up with him. His thought process just doesn't make sense to me. I always accuse my parents of being conservative, but it was never to the point where I felt alone and abandoned. I take a deep breath and focus on Percy. What the hell am I supposed to say to him? I have no idea how to comfort anyone, yet here Percy is, broken and in clear need of comfort. I awkwardly pat his back as his sobs get more and more violent. It still doesn't add up to me. I want him to explain more of what he's feeling, but seeing his body tremble and his chest heave, his soaked shirt from his own tears, I figure he wouldn't be able to form coherent words if he tried.

"I...can't say I can understand you completely. I grew up in Manhattan. Being gay was so accepted, some people even thought it was 'cool' to pretend to be gay. And-I know that the world in its entirety isn't that okay with the issue-and maybe I took advantage of the openness I had-but I never knew you felt this way. I guess, I almost forgot that there's some of us that can't fully express ourselves without being mistreated. But, Percy, I want you to know that you still matter, your view of yourself and who you are fucking matters. No matter how bad anyone makes you feel about yourself, you are still you, just Percy Jackson, just a goddamn guy. And an annoying one, at that." I roll my eyes for effect but feel my chest clench, the words pressing hard into my throat. "Look-we're all just human beings, and if some don't want to accept you then fuck them! They aren't you, they'll never be you, they'll never understand how your mind works. So you have three choices-live in closeted fear and confusion and let the people that hurt you bring you down completely, or stand up for yourself and cut them out entirely. You have to decide what's best for you mentally. It's bigger than what anyone else could think-it's about what kind of influence you're going to let others to have on you. Please, Percy, please don't give up on yourself. I-may not have known you for that long, but I can tell that you're a good-natured guy-you're just a little lost. And I hope that one day you can turn on the light and fully find yourself."

I knead my hands, feeling awkward and exposed. Percy stares at me, his mouth agape and I blush, a bit uncomfortable by the fact that his bright green eyes are ogling me.

I get up abruptly, the silence getting to be too much for me. "I'll be downstairs in the kitchen, so feel free to come down and eat whenever you feel like it. If you want, you can rummage through my dresser for some clothes-the bathroom is the first door on the left. And don't worry about seeing my parents, they left early to visit my grandparents in Trenton." I don't mention Bianca, unsure if she's even in the house. I hope she isn't.

Percy gives me a thankful smile and I close the door, stopping to catch my breath on the other side. My heart is pounding, almost aching.

Why do I have to be like this?