Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson

If someone asked me what my biggest regret in life is, I wouldn't hesitate for a second.

Singing in front of the whole school.

Not that I fucked it up or anything. I was amazing, I knew it, but high schoolers are monsters. Because, obviously, a boy should only be singing if they're rapping, right? Nope. Not to me, anyway.

The universe must be having a nice laugh at me. I'd hoped the whole school would know my name and in a cruel twist of events, they do. I'm 'Wannabe Bieber'. Bryce 'Wannabe Bieber' Usoro, to be exact. But that doesn't have a very good ring to it, does it?

It's been a year since then and I've been trying to keep a low profile. Not very easy when every jerk is jeering. Say what you want, but I think the Hunger Games are a metaphor for school.

"Look, everyone!" Someone exclaimed and I wanted to groan. "It's the famous Bryce 'Wannabe Bieber'!" I kept walking, or trying to. "I'm concerned, honestly, Bryce. Are you mentally sane? I mean, maybe you belong in the slow class. Why would you embarrass yourself like that? Did a CIA agent hold you at gunpoint? That must be it! Because no one would ever sing in front of everyone, knowing they sound like an old Ford trying to start up."

"Wow, so creative. I've only heard that one about... 3 or 4... billion times," I retorted.

"I'm shocked you can hear anything, all that falsetto singing and I thought you'd gone deaf by now!" Someone else called out.

I shoved past all the bodies, all the mocking and embarrassment, and strode to class. I hoped my practised stone face was on. Wiping off all emotions like wiping the shit off a baby. That analogy definitely needs work. I walked into class and slid into my desk, in the dead centre of the classroom.

"Listen up, delinquents," Mr Toro shouts, using his ever so adoring pet name for everyone. "Today, another delinquent's parents have decided to send them to this miserable concrete box. So, please welcome, or don't, William Solace."

Blonde hair, blue eye, athletic body, seemingly easy-coming smile? No, this guy could not be trusted. Then again, he doesn't know anything about me. This was my chance. A clean slate, at least until someone messed it up for me.

"I go by Will, sir." Uh oh.

This kid didn't know it, but that one comment could mean total hell for him in this class for the rest of the year. If you spoke to Toro when not asked a question, he automatically saw it as you patronising him.

Toro immediately flushed red. "You will respond to whatever I call you, whether that is delinquent or John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, is that understood?"

Will didn't cower like I know 90% of this class would, he only looked slightly taken aback. He had the good sense to nod and take a seat. 'A seat' meaning the only seat left. 'The only seat' meaning the one to my left.

I didn't want to look too desperate, or too friendly, so I held back my greetings until Toro finished. "And that is why the American government is keeping us from the aliens in Area 51."

"Hey, I'm Bryce," I walked out of class.

"I'm Will, as you heard." Will was still smiling, which was something rare for me.

"Yeah, Mr Toro is..." I crossed my eyes.

Will laughed, and I hoped it wasn't superficial. "You know, I heard some stuff about you." Fuck.

"Yeah?" I asked weakly.

"Some guys talking about you. Told me you were a loser... what, a... Wannabe Bieber?" This was it. My one chance at having a friend, poof, gone. "But those guys obviously don't know anything. You're cool, Bryce. Very cool."

"You think I'm cool?"

"'Course. Why wouldn't I? It takes some serious guts to perform in front of your whole school. Especially teenagers. I hear we're very brutal."

"You know about the singing?" I asked miserably.

Will nodded. "I happen to have great respect for someone like that. I've been around people that think boys singing is absolutely bizarre." I stared at him mutely.

"What I'm trying to say is, keep at it, Bryce."

A Few Years Later

Screaming. People screaming at me. People screaming for me. Telling me to keep going, to keep singing. They liked to hear me. This is what I wanted ever since high school. I remembered my last year of high school, being told to keep singing. I took that advice seriously. Started my own career, which took off.

I owe my success to Will. I would've given up singing, thinking no one liked it when I opened my mouth. And I haven't seen him since.

I walked to the stage. My eyes lazily scanned the crowd. I think I did a double-take. Blonde hair, blue eye, athletic body, seemingly easy-coming smile? Exactly the same, but slightly taller. An arm around a shorter boy with black hair and a sulky look. We locked eyes and he gave me a thumbs-up.

I snapped out of my trance and started singing, although not quite invested in the song. Maybe this meant we could keep in touch.

And that is when I thought about who Will was to me: Will Solace, the greatest story of behind the scenes ever.

No, he's not a son of Apollo, just a musically inclined kid.

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captainMcSchizzle