You may be asking why I'm posting on a Friday, as opposed to a Saturday. Here's my reasoning: I'm not going to be posting tomorrow, because I'll be in a place with an unreliable connection, but luckily, it won't span the entire week like I thought, so after the weekend, consistent updates will be back! But please note, if I don't update, it's because of priorities/managing expectations. You can PM me if you are confused or have any questions.

Disclaimer: If anyone thought I was Rick Riordan, I would be surprised, because I definitely don't look like him at all.

~headline: publicity gatherings smell like bad perfume~

…

Songwriting is one of those things that can come easy, words flowing through his head, or can be absolutely hell to do. Percy always wonders how other musicians are able to appear stress-free, because Percy can barely get himself together. Sure, people see him as this amazing, chill person, but in truth, he's always over-thinking, and stressing out over small things. Songwriting, for a while, was where he found solace, but then when he was picked up by a managing company, everything felt so forced. Percy knows he's released shitty songs. But he also knows there are songs he's put out that he's proud of. Even so, recently, it's gotten harder and harder to produce new, original content.

Acropolis has always helped him with that. This is the first time he's directly used her words, but sometimes, when they talk, he gets inspired, and is able to write actually good lyrics. It isn't always an entire song, but other times, he's able to finish an entire piece. The lyrics she gave him, let him borrow, allowed him to write an entire song, which he titled Girl in My Corner. If he continues to get the same boasts of motivation as he had with that song, he'll be able to finish the album quickly.

But then again, she's in school, so they haven't been able to talk as much. And Percy doesn't want to profit off of her words. He can do with this one song, and he'll try to do his best for the rest. He can produce ten more songs, that'll be fine. They may be shitty, but to be honest, a lot of his fans won't notice, or even care. They'll listen to the song as long as it takes for it to get old, and either love it, or hate it. Percy's always surprised by it, but somehow, his fans even love the songs he knows are bad.

So he sits in the studio, workshopping stupid idea after stupid idea. There's so much going through his head, but he can't put words to paper. Nico is composing some music, while Leo scrolls through, what he assumes are dating apps. They really aren't being any help. He looks to Austin, who is frowning as he writes, and Silena, who is looking over Austin's shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed.

They really aren't going to help him. He lets out a big sigh, and drops his pen, which causes the four people to look up. Nico is skeptical, Austin is resolved, Silena's looks encouraging, and Leo is bright red. "I can't think of anything." He says.

Nico grumbles, and Percy knows why. He always gets annoyed when he can't come up with stuff. He just doesn't understand how Percy's life has changed. When Percy just posted covers and original songs on Youtube, he could do it on his own time, but now that he has limits, it's getting so hard. "At least we have one good single done." Nico says, "That's what Dionysus wanted, anyway. But after this week ends, your motivation is going to have to come back, because might I remind you, you have an album coming out soon."

Silena frowns at Nico, "be nice." She looks at Percy. "We know you have a lot going on right now, but really, if there's anyway you can get yourself out of this block of creativity, do it."

"We can even workshop lyrics together over facetime tonight or something," Austin adds, and Percy nods at him, although that probably won't happen. Tonight, he has a publicity gathering to go to, apparently it's with The Atlas, another management company. Olympus, his company are looking to make an arrangement with The Atlas, so Percy has to go to this event, being one of their biggest stars.

"I don't know why nothing is coming out." That's not true, he does. Percy just doesn't want to tell them why. Leo would probably roll his eyes, and say something about how he's privileged (which he is, he knows). Nico would probably give him a lecture, and Silena would try to be painfully nice. By now, Percy can predict all of their moves. This has happened so many times, before, but usually, it doesn't last this long. All Percy can hope, is that over the weekend, he can have a serious talk with Acropolis about it, of course, leaving out important details like who he is.

They haven't talked as much over the past couple of days, but Percy does know that she's made a "kind of" friend. That's good, she deserves it. He wishes he had friends like that, but instead, all of the people that are his "friends," are either fake, or linked to his work in some way. That's why Acropolis is special. She's his only friend that one, doesn't know, and doesn't care about what he does, and also is genuine. Nico and Leo are good, but it's complicated when the people that you're friends with work for you.

Percy shakes his head, and looks down at his paper once more. Everyone in the room is still staring at him, expectantly, but he just looks down at the lyrics he wrote days ago, after Annabeth helped him.

"There's a girl in my corner,

I see her, I warn her.

Stay away, I'm all bad energy,

there's a supernova within me."

They're just the beginning to his bigger song, which is finished, but he can't help but write them over, and over again, staring at them. He misses the motivation he had just days ago. He wants that to come back, it's such a settling feeling. Knowing that he's written something down, something that sure, isn't his best, but is still there. He hopes that even just a small part of him will be able to revitalize that spirit. That obviously doesn't work though, because he's still staring at the paper, in a room of people who are judging him.

This is the part of his job he hates. The constant judgment of everything he does. He can go outside without being nit-picked for the clothing he's wearing, the bag he's carrying, the people he's with. There's no escape from it, it's this huge monster that he's forced to face every day.

At least he has one person to find solace in. Maybe she doesn't understand exactly, but Acropolis knows what pain is like. She knows what the pain he's facing is like. He wishes he knew her in real life, because the optimist part of his brain tells him that she wouldn't think of him any differently.

The sad truth is, the world doesn't work that way. It never will, and Percy just has to face his feelings like a grown-up. Something he's not. He's still a teenager, only eighteen year old. Any other kid his age would be working to go to college, stressing over school assignments, while Percy here is taking on an entire new world. The music industry is both promoting him and destroying him simultaneously. He has no escape, every second of his day is full with it. And then of course, theirs the stupid publicity gathering.

…

Percy walks into the gathering with two bodyguards trailing behind him. It's ridiculous. Everyone here is as famous as he is, he doesn't need them. It's not like these a-listers are going to attack him.

As he scans the crowd, he sees many familiar faces. Dionysus, who already looks like he's on with a third or fourth bottle of beer, and a couple other prominent names, like Tristan Mclean from King of Sparta and Aphrodite, his ex-wife, a prominent model. He looks deeper into the crowd, seeing people that he recognizes, and others he doesn't, until his eyes land on Calypso Atlas, daughter of The Atlas's head manager. She's quite beautiful, with caramel colored hair, and dark eyes. He's heard of her before, and was told she'd be there, but he's never seen her in person. She looks much more natural, more beautiful, then the photos depict her.

He's almost mesmerized by her beauty, and then, feels himself staring, and then shakes away. Almost on cue, he feels a tap on his shoulder, and looks up, to see the one and only Atlas. His eyes widen, knowing that he's going to have to make a good impression. "Hello sir," Percy says, trying his best not to stutter. "It's nice seeing you here."

"Percy Jackson," Atlas says, his eyes cold and hard. "I've heard a lot about you."

He nods, "and so have I. My superiors have wanted to make an arrangement with your company for a while. Dionysus, my manager—"

Atlas cuts him off. "The drunkard? Yes, I talked to him. Something about exposure for your new album? I've heard you've been having a bit of a motivation block. Of course, a ghost-writer could always fix that…" he trails off, looking at Percy expectantly.

"No, never." Percy says stubbornly. He could never do that, there is no way he'd ever let another person write his music. Maybe it would sound the same to his founds, but it wouldn't sound the same to him. His management has suggested it a couple of times in the past, and he's promptly turned it down each time. "I'll get out of this block, I know I will. A ghost-writer isn't what I need."

Atlas watches him almost glee-fully, as if he's a child trying to walk for the first time. "Mr. Jackson," he says curtly, "one thing you find with this particular industry, is that those who don't make sacrifices for their career, will never triumph."

"With all due respect sir," Percy says, remembering that he has to make a good impression, "not hiring a ghost-writer would be a sacrifice. Originality is more important than you think."

Atlas narrows his eyes at him, his gaze assessing. "Think about it." He says, before turning away, "but remember, if this album is a flop, you'll easily be over. You know what the behind the scenes people can do."

"Is that a threat?" Percy accuses, unable to bite back anymore.

Atlas turns back at him, thoughtfully. "No, it's a promise."

Percy stares at him as he walks away, being consumed into the large crowd of celebrities. He goes over Atlas's words in his head. Could the old man really sabotage his career for one bad album? Percy knows his songs in the past have gotten lots of good reception, but lots of bad reception too. He doesn't want to disappoint his listeners, but Atlas worries him. As much as Percy doesn't like the industry, he doesn't want to leave it behind either. This is his life, and it scares him how fast he could be cancelled, or taken down. He's never been a fan of any of that kind of stuff, but now that it could directly affect him, it seems clear that he has to make some damn good songs for this album.

He sighs, and then walks over to the drink table. Although he's underage, the bartenders will usually slip a little bit of something into his drink, which he doesn't mind. It takes the edge of things off a bit, makes everything feel new and exciting, instead of dull and boring. Even so, most of the time, he doesn't. He's mature enough to know that he shouldn't— that it could damage his brain. Also, he's scared to hear his mother's wrath if she ever finds out. This time, he asks the bartender if there's any alcohol in the drink, because he has to drive home himself. The bartender tells him there isn't, and he sighs in relief.

As he sips his drink, an orange, tropical mix, he feels another tap on his shoulder. As opposed to Atlas's demanding one, this one is soft, and hesitant. He turns to see none other than Calypso, in all her beauty. "I saw you looking at me earlier," she says shyly, her voice as pretty as her appearance.

"I guess I was," Percy swirls his drink around, in an effort to look calm, while in reality, his heart is beating fast because of her, and the overall environment around him. He's always been easily overwhelmed.

She smiles, "I thought I'd say hi. You look lonely."

"Do I really?" He asks, her making an effort to crack a smile. "I'm Percy Jackson," he says sarcastically, taking another sip of his drink, "I can't be lonely."

She cocks her head, and takes a seat down next to him. "Everyone can be lonely. It's an everlasting condition." Her words are calming, and when she puts her hand on his arm, he instantly relaxes at her touch.

"Yeah." Percy says, avoiding her eyes. "Your father just talked to me."

Calypso winces, her nose wrinkling. It's kind of cute. He looks over, nodding his head. "I'm sorry about him." How is her voice so slow, so soft? It's almost like he wants to fall asleep from it. He bets she'd be a good singer.

"It's not your fault."

"He's not a very kind person."

"I got that." He tries to make light of the situation, when in reality, it scared him a bit. To have someone push his work to the side like that, to act like it was meaningless is scary. He's always hoped that his music touches at least one person's heart, but when he sees famous people like Atlas disregarding it, his heart drops.

Calypso looks at him thoughtfully, and then begins to hum a bit. Soon enough, he recognizes the melody, it's one of his songs. One from his last album, the third one. He joins in, singing the words under his breath, and bopping his head to the beat of it. Everything feels a bit fuzzy, he always gets overwhelmed at large gatherings like this. There's light classical music playing in the background, which means no clashing tones. He takes a sip of his drink, and swallows it, before joining her again.

As they continue to hum, he thinks about Acropolis. About how Acropolis said she hated this song, despised it even. He chuckles a bit, under his breath, and Calypso looks at him with a sense of uncertainty. "What's that?" She asks innocently.

"Just a memory." Percy says. He looks into her dark, soulful eyes. He can't tell what color they are, just that they simultaneously look like a dark hole and a supernova explosion. It reminds him of the words Acropolis gave him, and now he's thinking about who she might be. She could even be Calypso, who sits next to him, her hand on top of his. Maybe he's overthinking or something, but it's a nice thought. If she was, he'd be fine with that. She gives him a sense of calm. It's not normality though, but it's something. There's a part of him that knows she just understands. Maybe not exactly, that's impossible, but as his heart beats, he thinks about how kissing her might relieve the pain.

Sure, he doesn't know if she's Acropolis, but he can imagine. As horrible as it sounds, he thinks it would be amazing if they were the same person. Hell, Percy doesn't care what she looks like, if he could kiss her in real life, he'd do it, no matter what. He's fallen in love with her personality.

But she's not here. And Calypso is. Calypso, who's looking delicately into his eyes, as if she wants to kiss him. Calypso, whose caramel hair flows elegantly on her shoulder. She's wearing a beautiful white dress, with a simple gold-looking belt around her waist. Calypso, who is here, while Acropolis, is not, and will probably never be.

He sighs, and leans into her touch. Their lips don't touch yet, but he cups her cheek, and she shakes her hand around his back. He closes his eyes, and so does she, their lips barely touching. He feels himself pulling her closer to him, and then, they touch softly.

It feels nice. Nice isn't the best word to describe a kiss, but that's what he'd call this. It's not earth shattering or anything like that, but Percy enjoys kissing as much as the next guy. He knows there's no genuine, loving, emotion in it, and he feels bad, because for Calypso, it might feel that way. She's really nice, incredibly nice, and he likes her. And although he doesn't like her in that way, he still pulls her close, relishing her touch.

She moves her lips to his ear, and speaks softly, her soft breath tickling his skin. "You're not bad at this," she says, moving her lips back, and continuing to kiss him. Mind you, he kisses back, it's a good feeling, but it's not the same as other kisses. Or the other kisses he imagines. The truth is, he hasn't had a genuine romance since he first met Acropolis. He's always kissed for the fun of it, hooked up for the fun of it. He's had a couple of relationships, but most were short and forced.

As they break apart, he realizes that what he's doing is wrong. Calypso looks at him kindly, as if she really likes him. And as he starts to speak, he's cut off by a white flash. A flash he hates— one so familiar he wants to barf.

He turns to see an entire army of cameras pointed at them. Most of the guests and attendees are staring at them, and Atlas is looking at Percy angrily. Dionysus is next to him, oblivious, trying to chat him up, and that's when Percy realizes how big of a mistake this was. He's not sure what to do, but then he feels a tug on his arm, and looks up to see Calypso pulling him away. She motions at him to follow her, and before he can say a word, pulls him outside, out through a nearby door.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I had a nice time with you Perseus." She says his full name, and he can't help but smile at her. She says it nicely, pronouncing each syllable carefully, as if his name is important, carefully constructed. And now, he doesn't have the heart to tell her what he feels, because now, she's somehow handing him care keys— his car keys— and motioning over to leave. "I hope that I'll see you again."

Her voice is sad, as if she knows what's coming, like she knows he doesn't like her in that way. He nods at her, and thanks her, before running over to his car, before anybody notices him. Once he arrives, he quickly gets in, and puts the window shades up, and then pounds his head against the steering wheel. "Why can't I stop making mistakes?" He mutters to himself. Knowing the media, this is going to start a whole new scandal, and he'll be back at square zero again, back where he started. Then, he'll have to figure out a way to resolve it, which he is quite honestly, not looking forward to.

He pounds his head against the steering wheel once more, and then slowly, starts to pull out of his spot, leaving everything behind. As he drives, he feels a sharp tension in his shoulder, and his eyes begin to water. A tear falls down his cheek, and he wipes it away, thanking however built this car for putting in shaded windows. If anyone saw the great Percy Jackson crying, that would be all over the news. And he can't handle two scandals at once, he doesn't have that capacity.

Driving through the roads of LA, he passes by a school, a large one, called Goode High School. If he wasn't famous, he'd probably be going there. It's near this community of McMansions, and he finds himself wondering if Acropolis lives there. She said her father lived in a McMansion type situation. That would be a pretty lucky guess though, and he's not going to take his chances.

He passes a couple more houses, and then gets on the high-way, driving to the sheltered community he lives in. Soon enough, he gets home, and falls onto his bed, with a pad of paper by his side.

And then, all of a sudden, a string of lyrics, and ideas come to his mind. Thank god for the paper next to him, he always keeps it by his bed in case of middle of the night epiphanies. Percy takes a pen, and then begins to scrawl every word he thinks of down, before coming up with a good portion of a song. He's grateful for this motivation, when he looks down, to see one lyric he particularly enjoys. He sings it out loud, figuring out the tune of it, and then records it on his phone, to show it to the rest of his team tomorrow.

I know it's bad,

They say I'm sad holed in my room,

But in truth, I'm glad,

because the paparazzi drive me mad.

It reminds him that sometimes, good things come out of bad situations. Percy hates that he has to go through this kind of stuff, but if a song idea comes out of it, he feels weirdly redeemed. He's proud of himself, not for finally getting another song done, but for making the best of a bad situation. And Percy knows already, that when he wakes up, Calypso and him will be all over the news. He knows that tomorrow, he'll have to deal with it all, and try to find a way to resolve it. He also knows that tomorrow, Acropolis is going to talk to him about it. That's the painful part of this all— Acropolis is bound to know about everything.

But for now, he'll try to fall asleep, and not think about that. That's the best he can do for now. And when the morning comes, he'll be reminded of everything, but just for this moment, he can find peace.

…

~the maturity to outgrow problems, perhaps, is better than the actual solution~

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! (Also, Percabeth is endgame, don't worry, this is just a part of the plot) Again, sorry for any confusion about posting, but in short, updates next week will be fine. I'll let you know if updates are weird again, but for now, don't worry about it.

I'd love to hear your thoughts about this chapter. Percy is in a bit of trouble, but that'll resolve itself over time. Please note that all song lyrics are written by me, and I'm not a professional at all, and I know they are bad. Even so, please don't copy these lyrics or re-use them, since I own them. If any lyrics I use are from other songs, I'll directly credit the creator, and yada-yada-yada, all that stuff.

Leave a review, let me know what you think! Thanks for all the support, and please, stay safe and healthy!

TheLil'Lion