It's officially been two weeks. Word slowly got out the bodega by the library was open during the nights. The more people started to know, the more business Silas had. During the nights, the influx of students started to increase as they got their midnight fixes of energy to study at the library. Time went by faster for Percy's shift.

Silas had been keeping track of the profits he made at night due to Percy's diligence. He kept a notebook that wrote down the net profit each day and he kept track to see if they were increasing. To their delight, it did; slowly but surely. During one of Percy's day shifts when both he and Silas were working together, Silas declared after adding up the profits, "Looks like we're keeping the bodega up overnight for good."

Well, except for the nights they had off.

Percy had finally gotten the dreaded invoice from Joe. The amount that was billed directly to him must have been for all the goods in the van, because it took up almost all of his paycheck for the next two weeks. This would severely impact his ability to pay rent, and the urgency to get another job fast was imminent to Percy. He would also have to contact Joe if this invoice could be payed in installments, if even possible.

He told Silas this, and Silas nodded his head in understanding. His face grew darker as he tried to think. "I've contacted four of my buddies to see if they had jobs for you. They said they'd get back to me as soon as I can, so have hope. If not, I'll help you pay Joe off."

Percy did not like that idea at all, especially because Percy felt like he had burdened Silas enough. But it wasn't really like he had a choice in the first place. He would have to cut off any source of money-spending he would regularly do. He didn't spend much as it is. The most he could cut off was rent, but Percy didn't want to do that at all. It wasn't really like he could couch surf at a buddy's a block over.

He really didn't know what to do. He spent the whole week job searching and even looked at the newspaper for jobs, but it was like the whole city had run out of them. He'd managed to get one interview at the bakery in Chinatown but they didn't appreciate the fact that all he could bake were microwavable cupcakes. Not really his fault though, desserts were a delicacy to people like him.

Percy was stuck at the bodega for now, although he did really like working there, he just did not want to be indebted to his dear friend any longer. The faster he can get even with Silas, the better it was for Percy's conscience.

He rubbed his temples in frustration. He swore the divines hated him.

Percy needed to keep this off his mind for a bit. It wasn't like thinking about a problem obsessively was going to solve the problem anyways.

His shift ends and he heads home to sleep his problems off while he had the excuse.

;;;

Cigarette dangling from his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, Percy was on his fire escape again.

He has a borrowed computer from the library in his lap and several newspapers from different stands sprawled next to him. His hair looks like a bird bathed in it as he had just woken up from his reversed sleep schedule. The sun was high in the sky beating down on his skin as he worked. He takes a long drag from the cigarette and starts working on circling with red ink any potential jobs that he could apply for and contact. So far he has about two circles in a total of five different newspapers. He's made an account on a job searching site and applied for about four jobs. That was fourteen potential jobs and all he needed was one of them to hire him.

Most of the jobs that were being posted or offered were ones that required skill, and Percy had no skills whatsoever. He had to contemplate seriously if he should try and take up trade school or something so that he would be more eligible for jobs in the future. He couldn't live like this forever: a month-to-month rent, working for his friend, and relying on multiple different sources for money. He didn't see how it was going to sustain him in one of the most expensive cities in the world. At this rate, if he didn't pick something up, he might have to move upstate or to Jersey.

Trade school. That could be a start.

After doing a little research he found out even trade schools cost money. They offered aid, but after a few phone calls they asked for parents' incomes, which was absolute bullshit. It's not like he could hit Poseidon up for his tax returns the previous year. Even if he could, Poseidon would have Percy under his thumb, and the school would never offer him aid. Poseidon was loaded. There was no way.

Percy figured he would have to save up for now then. He made a To-Do list of what he'd have to do for the next few days:

Find a job. He has to pay Joe. Joe was not giving him lenience in installments. He also has to pay rent.

Open a savings account. After he pays Joe, with two jobs he would have little amounts to save up that could eventually put him through learning a skill set.

After making a list he doesn't feel too terrible, but it might also be the amount of cigarettes that he's smoked the past few hours. He had smoked all of his remaining pack without knowing.

He writes another down: Cut down the smoking. He could save money with that. He doubts he could follow through but he will try.

He took the last drag on his remaining one and let it burn itself out one of the metal steps. It smoked itself a little bit out until it finally lost its remaining embers.

He finally relaxes against the windowsill looking at the Empire State Building in the distance. His mouth feels a bit empty without having something to drag on, and he curses himself for not taking his time with the pack he had left. He fiddles with his phone a bit in boredom, and he accidentally comes across texts that he sent Sally long ago.

It took a lot of his willpower to try and not open it, but he failed. He ended up scrolling through the texts and even went as far back to a few years ago. It wasn't too hard to get there since he doesn't really text her, and she gave up trying.

Some of them were warm, he noticed.

All of them weren't blowing her off completely. Once Sally had asked how he was and he had responded well. They had an okay conversation that lasted for two hours with time gaps here and there. He must have been in a good mood at the time. Although reading them didn't make him feel half-bad as well.

He clicked his phone so it would shut off. No point in wasting emotions into something that he left behind him long ago.

Percy had a few hours until his shift and contemplated on what he should do. His textbook was over by his makeshift bed in the corner looking at him, but he wasn't in the mood to solve problems while he was trying to figure out his life. He had a few options on things he could do, but none of them particularly appealed to him—

He suddenly has an idea. It's been a while since he's seen the old man. He packs his backpack with all his stuff, finds more money he could spare for another pack of his subtle addiction, and heads for the park.

;;;

"You've gotten good, kid."

"Perhaps, but I don't know how you've gotten to be this good. Has anybody ever beaten you?"

There are little chess tables at Washington Square Park where people can play spontaneous chess on their own time and desire. Mostly the homeless took up the place and played each other. Students would often sit amongst themselves to play or even join the homeless. It was one of those places that had a harmony of humanity in one spot. It was good to see, and one of the days Percy had joined as well.

It was a bright sunny day with a little chill. Leaves had fallen and crunched under the feet of anxious players anticipating their opponents' next move. The slight breeze wicked away the sweat from the heat of the cerebral game. Conversations were carried through the wind and made the atmosphere brighter along with the sun.

"Oh, you know," the old man moved his chess piece and took one of Percy's valuable ones. Damn, how had Percy forgotten about that one? "A long time ago, when I was about your age, maybe. Maybe younger."

"Is that all you do, Marty?" Percy made a move of his own and tapped his fingers against the wooden table. "Play chess?"

The man's eyes sparkled with humor. "They're just old skills of mine, young Jackson. Did I tell you I was at a nationwide tournament when I was just an eighteen year-old kid? That's not much older than you."

Percy shook his head, smiling. "About a hundred times."

"It never gets old, my young friend," Percy tries to figure out his next move as the old man slouches in his seat, giving him time to think. Percy knew that Marty enjoyed his company and Percy tried to visit him as much as he could within reason. Percy didn't think Marty's company was half-bad either, and he was the reason why Percy started taking up chess in the first place.

"So, young Jackson," the old man starts again, taking a drink out of the coffee Percy brought him from the bodega on his way here. "What's been up with you lately? There a girl that you haven't told me about taking up your time? I haven't played against you in two months."

"You didn't see me walk by every once in a while to the library?"

The old man gives him a raise of his eyebrow. "I never keep my head out of the game. And you shouldn't too." He takes a piece as if emphasizing his point. Bastard. He grimaces at the old man.

"Oh, that's right." Percy surrenders and plans his next move. "I got fired from my job that I told you about. With Joe?"

"What'd ya screw up?"

"Why do people keep saying that?" Percy shook his head and placed his chess piece on his decided square. "Nothing, I got robbed. The van was robbed. Joe was pissed. The guy barely heard me out."

"It's okay. You got a whole future ahead of you, kid. One lost job isn't going to say anything about your integrity." Another chess piece was lost and the old man's dark fingers took his pawn.

"Well, it's not my integrity I'm worried about," Percy moves another piece and takes a pawn of Marty's. "It's the invoice I got from him. All the things that were either stolen or damaged cost a significant amount of dough. A lot of them were alcohol. So I gotta find a way to pay him back."

"That's a shame," Marty frowns at the board. "I wish I could help ya out young'un."

"It's okay Marty. I don't expect you to pay off my debt with the prize money you got from chess playing in sixty-eight."

"Ha!" Marty laughs with a boom at Percy's retort. "I already spent it all by seventy-six by the time I got back from the war, so you're a few years too shy kid."

"Bummer, I would've gotten you an extra sandwich if you pulled a favor like that off for me."

"Well, you'll owe me one once I beat ya ass on this game. You're slacking half-over. You were doing great the first parts of the game." his eyes sparkle once again as the old man winked at Percy. Percy really liked Marty and would go as far as considering him his mentor in life. The man, although not a lot of society would see it the way Percy does, had a lot of stored up wisdom. Something about wandering without anything to your name and going through animosity on the day-to-day basis gave someone vigor. Percy admired that a lot. Marty took a piece of Percy's again and Percy cursed out loud. He was left with very few pieces with very little possibilities to win.

"Marty! You're not giving me a break!"

"If I go soft on ya, you'll never learn." Marty says nonchalantly, his dusty glasses sliding down slightly along the bridge of his nose as he looked down.

"It's like you exponentially get better after every time I come close to beating you."

"Or maybe the months of no practice is getting to the young Jackson."

"Fair."

The two men kept playing as the scenery around them changed with people. The players from both sides of their tables had already switched challengers and opponents as Percy and Marty's game went on. The sun beat down on the players and the autumn trees did nothing to shade them.

The old man made another move, this time not taking a piece for once. Percy sighed relief. "Anything else going on in that short life of yours? You have another job that you can pay off that debt?"

"Yeah, I now work for Silas at his bodega."

"Young Correia, that kid. He's been paying me visits. Come to think of it, I think he did mention that you started working for him."

"Your memories are failing you now, Marty. Better watch out and take some multi-vitamins or something."

Marty laughed again, shaking his head and moving a piece after Percy had made a move of his own. "You never cease to amuse me, kid."

A few moves exchange between the two in silence, the chatter from the other tables filling the air around them. So far Percy was getting his ass handed to him, but that was normal. Percy would have to read a book or something on skills. Maybe Annabeth could help him find a good one.

Oh. Speaking of her.

"I also took a girl out the other day." Percy successfully captured a piece to his delight. He suppressed a smile.

Marty looked at him through his naked eyes, hand mid-air with the piece he was going to move. He doesn't place it. "Why didn't you start with that?!"

"I mean, I didn't think it was that important." Percy contemplated the table, looking at the whole board with a little thought. Come to think of it, he hasn't seen Annabeth since he and her went to the taco place the other day. He kind of missed her.

"Is she keeping you nice company?"

Percy looked at him in disappointment. "It's not like that you weirdo. You'd think someone's libido or their curiosity of someone else's would fade by the time they're your age. It's your move, by the way. You have the piece in your hand."

"Oh," Marty placed it and knocked over one of Percy's valuable pieces with validity from his original place. The old man remembered where it came from. He shouldn't have said anything. "What are you waiting for then?"

"I'm not really looking for anything," Percy said. He moves a piece that doesn't really do anything to his advantage. "I can't really be involved with someone or really take care of her. And you know I'm not about using people in any kind of way, especially when it comes to sex."

"When I met Eva, I was twenty and about to go to war." Marty grimaced. "You think I could've taken care of her?"

"Probably not," Percy admits. "But it's different. Actually, if I ever mention something about taking care of her, she might get upset. She was upset that she couldn't go out alone at night. I assume that's because she's a girl who's been told that by other people. Hell, even I told her that."

Marty frowns. "That's more of an issue of men not being able to keep their hands to their own damn selves. It's usually never about the girl. The men who do nasty things to women in disadvantaged positions are cowards." He interjects swiftly, and Percy thinks he might be as upset as Annabeth. "But taking care of her is a whole other story. It's a matter of being responsible for another person. Like kids. You take care of them because you are responsible for them. When they grow up, it goes both ways like adults do for each other."

Percy laughs without any humor. "Yeah, tell that to my father." He reaches into his bag and takes out his new cigarette pack courtesy of the bodega and lights it up. He offered Marty one.

Marty shakes his head, presses his lips into a hard line, and looks at Percy for a brief moment before looking at the board again. "Your father will come around."

"Yeah I highly doubt that Marty. Bring over a crystal ball and maybe I'll believe you."

Marty laughs a little at Percy's jab, but his face and body shifts into a more serious grounding. "Tell me, son. Why don't you ever try to make amends with your father? Or your mother at the very least?"

Percy takes a long drag and lets it out. He and Marty has talked about this freely before. Percy didn't feel like Marty would think of him any differently or felt like he was burdening him. He opened up. "He's just an asshole," Percy admits simply. "As for my mother I can't even look at her."

"What makes him as such?"

"He just wasn't ever there for us," Percy flicks his cigarette to get rid of loose ashes. "Although, he did call me the other day. Demanding that I talk to my mother."

"Why is that?"

"I might've been a little harsh on her."

"Sounds like he cares for the both of you and the relationship between you and her somewhat."

"Poseidon is too narcissistic to ever think about anyone other than himself."

Marty smiled. "You remind me of my son. Abel. Both of you are stubborn."

"You've never mentioned him before."

"That's because he died many years ago." Marty took a sip of his coffee and readjusted his glasses. "He and I had the same conflicts for a little bit. I had Shell Shock from the war. I wasn't the best to my family as well. When I tried making amends it didn't come out the ways that I wanted it to. Sometimes it would cause more conflict."

"Yeah but that's you and Abel's situation. I doubt you would behave like Poseidon. Not even in your prime years." Percy slouches in his seat, the conversation weighing down on him. "I don't want anything to do with him anymore."

Marty let out a deep breath of defeat. "Well, kid, I won't press it further. But when you get to this age, things are different. Family becomes precious even when conflicts exist. When Abel died, I never had another chance at making things better with him. And I don't want you to live a life of possible regret, ya hear me?"

Percy nodded. He respected Marty enough. "I hear you."

The two men don't press it any further. The conversation has Percy thinking about the old messages that he read earlier with Sally. Marty finishes the coffee and sets it on the ground before he makes his final move.

"Checkmate." Marty gives him a big old laugh and slaps his hands on his shirted belly in a jovial show of dominance. It lightens the heavy mood from their talk about family.

Percy groans and slouches in his seat, looking at the board with a glare. His eyes darted to Marty's. "You gotta let me win or something one of these days."

"Then get good!" Marty claps his hands together. "Rematch?"

"I eventually will, but I gotta go now." Percy gets up, shouldering his bag that was propped against his metal chair and stood up. He looks at Marty, about to deliver the biggest blow a sore loser at a fair game of chess could ever deliver. "Yeah, that coffee, Marty?" Percy gives him the biggest grin he could muster without bursting out laughing.

Marty has a brow raised, ready to listen intently to whatever important thing Percy has to say. "Yeah?"

"It's decaf."

He watches Marty pseudo-wretch in disgust and Percy makes a run out of earshot before Marty has the chance to throw a plethora of profanities his way.