Hey, guys. So sorry for the late update. My computer was being stupid and I went on a long labor day vacation and unfortunately, where I was staying didn't have WiFi. So really sorry about that. But anyway, here's chapter 3.

Chapter 3

Percy Pov

Saturday. I loved Saturday. No school, no bothersome teachers, no worries, no waking up early. The week had ended on a good note. Ms. Dodds had been fired for the harassment of a student and had been replaced by Mr. Brunner, but he insisted on being called Chiron. He was an older man, probably early sixties, and had a scraggly, brown beard and big, brown eyes shining with wisdom and knowledge. He'd been confined to a wheelchair after he'd slipped and fallen down a flight of stairs slicked with a thin patch of ice. His back took the brunt of the fall and he was rushed to the hospital immediately. The damage was irreversible, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down, stuck in his wheelchair. Despite his injury, he seemed like a very happy man who thoroughly enjoyed himself…and his wheelchair, considering he loved to pop a wheelie in the middle of the halls, a look of satisfaction on his face as if to say Yep, I've still got it.

Besides Mr. Brunner livening up Math class, the rest of school still bores me to tears and makes the rough surface of my desk feel like a pillow. Well, it does for the second I have my head down before my teachers slammed a book on my desk or shout at me to go to bed early instead of snoozing in their class while they're trying to teach. But what's the fun in that. Anyway, that explains why I'm dead tired and sleeping in or was sleeping in until-

Strum!

Music notes from a guitar seeped through the thin, plaster wall and floated right into my ears. I yanked a pillow behind my head, pushing the sides into my ears to prevent the noise from reaching them. Unfortunately, my attempt was futile and the rhythm flowed around in head. It's not like the music was bad, but to sleep with an electric guitar blasting through your ear drums makes it no easy task. Once the ear-splitting sounds became too much for me to bare, I formed my hand into a fist and pounded on the wall, shouting at the only musically talented person in the whole house to shut the hell up and let me sleep. To which Annabeth had responded to by turning up the speakers to a shrill pitch so loud my eardrums would no doubt burst if I listened a second longer.

Rolling out of bed and striding toward my bedroom door with a purpose, I crossed the hall and burst into the room across from mine, the doorknob vibrating and shaking with the loud beats.

Upon entering, I found Annabeth standing in the center of her room, her fingers sliding across the strings, strumming away on a sleek, black electric guitar, head bopping to the beat. She read from a pink notebook that was placed on a black music stand that she'd written the notes and the lyrics in. Either she didn't notice that I'd come into her room or she just didn't care because she didn't look at me, didn't even acknowledge me, until I stomped over to the booming speakers and yanked the out the cord, silencing the house at last.

Annabeth spun around, her face a mask of fury that I'd interrupted her in the middle of her song, and she yanked the guitar strap over her head and set the instrument in the corner of her room.

"What the hell, Percy? Couldn't you see I was totally rocking that?" She shouted at me, her cheeks colored an angry red.

"Couldn't you see that it's early and I'm trying to sleep?" I hissed back just as snarkily, getting right in her face until we were nose to nose.

"Early?!" She said, rolling her gray eyes at me, causing the storm clouds within them to stir. "It's 12:00, it's lunchtime, and last time I checked, that isn't early."

"It is to me. Because unlike someone, I have to up at 6 freaking 30 to go to school and none of my teachers let me sleep in their classes. And it's not like I can sleep tomorrow because your mom is hosting that stupid brunch with her friends from the country club. So my only time to get any rest at all is on Saturday, which is today so stop playing that damn music and get some fresh air or something. You've been locked in this room since Monday, working on Hades know what."

"Step mom."

"What?"

"She's not my mom, she's my step mom."

"Step mom. Whatever."

"And why don't you just sleep in when I leave at 2:00?"

"Because your dad's making me go to your damn photo shoot so we can "learn to get along"."

She groaned.

"Of course. They want to put my face on Seventeen magazine and this lunatic will have to be there to see it. Wow, I'm so happy." She said dryly, not an ounce of enthusiasm in her tone. "And by the way," She said, adding this as an after thought, "I now know why you never had a girlfriend."

"And why is that?" I replied, mocking the same dry tone she'd used earlier. I knew she was going to insult me, which was exactly what I wanted. If a fight's what she wanted, a fight's what she'll get and this time I'm not prepared to lose.

"You're a Greek Freak."

"Yeah, so?"

"What kind of pathetic dork likes the Greek gods? Girls like big, macho, athletic guys, not boys who obsess over Medusa and that wine guy." She squeaked out in between fits of laughter, clutching her stomach as the giggles escaped her. "And don't even get me started on your face, that's another reason why girls don't like you. Thousands of dollars worth of costume makeup wouldn't be able to make that face pretty, I'll tell you that."

Self-consciously, I ran my hand down my cheek, feeling the stubble that ran across my jaw. Do people really think that? Nah, she's just doing that to upset me. Right?

"You know Annabeth, I've seen a few of your music videos-" I began before she interrupted me saying:

"Wow, I'm flattered." Sarcasm rolled over her tongue and oozed off her words.

"-and I noticed in every single one the lighting was dark. And I just wanted to say that was a very smart idea on your part; If you'd have done otherwise, you wouldn't have any fans. They'd be too haunted by your appearance to watch you."

"Haunted by how they wish they looked?"

"No, silly, haunted by the face of a hideous bitch. Thank the gods you have to go through hair and makeup before a performance or the whole auditorium would rush out of there in a heartbeat, screaming for help from the big, ugly monster that's eaten Annabeth Chase."

"Well at least I'm not stupid."

"Wow, what a comeback. I'm down for the count because you just knocked me out cold." I hissed sarcastically, flinging my arms out dramatically.

"I'll give you a comeback when I knock out those crooked, hillbilly teeth." She threatening raised her arm, fist directed at me , like she was going to throw a punch.

"I'd love to see you try. With these noodle arms," I lifted her arm that wasn't raised and wiggled it around, indicating the obviously lacking muscle embedded there, "I'd be surprised if you could knock a bug out of the sky, let alone knock out my teeth."

"Well, I-"

"Enough." A voice bellowed from the threshold. Mr. Chase stood in the doorway, clutching a cup of steaming coffee, his face tired and exasperated as he used his empty hand to massage the bridge of his nose. "Both of you, stop arguing and get ready. Annabeth, it's a long drive. If you want to get there on time, I suggest you quit dilly-dallying."

Annabeth strutted out of her room and into the bathroom down the hall, but not before shooting her signature glare at me over her shoulder.

Mr. Chase stared at me expectantly, but sighed after he clearly saw that I didn't understand.

"Percy, you too."

"You're still making me go with her?" I groaned. I'd thought that after our little spat, Mr. Chase would disregard his previous statement and tell me it'd be better if I stayed home. Sadly, miracles don't happen for me.

"Yes, you're still going with her. If you're gonna continue living in this house, you have to learn to get along with everyone and that includes Annabeth. Stubborn as she is, you have to at least promise me you'll try to get along. I'm sure she'd appreciate it." Appreciate it my butt.

"I'll try." I replied halfheartedly, feeling slightly guilty for making a promise I know I won't be able to keep.

"Thank you. Now get dressed, this is a big deal for Annabeth." And with that, he left the room, leaving the lingering scent of his coffee behind.

I sighed heavily before leaving also and readying myself for a day watching photographers snap photos of Little Miss Perfect all day long. Exciting? Almost as much as watching grass die.

Annabeth Pov

The limo ride had been dead silent, neither of us dared to say a single word to the other for fear that we'd only argue. And Walter's busy enough without having to stop us from clawing each others eyes out. Percy had spaced out for the majority of the ride, his stare faraway like he was lost in thought. I, on the other hand, fiddled with my phone, replying to texts and tweeting about the photo shoot.

We'd arrived at the studio two hours later and were greeted by my stylist, Aphrodite. She'd wrapped me in a tight hug and lead me through the familiar pathways leading to the dressing room, which explains why I'm modeling dress after dress, outfit after outfit, in front of an ecstatic Aphrodite and a bored Percy, whose expression seemed to say Kill me now. Honestly, I couldn't blame him, I felt the same way.

You see, I never used to be like this, I never used to be this high maintenance fashion freak. In fact before I became famous, I wouldn't have paid any attention to what people thought of my what I wore; as long as I like it, I wore it. Come to think of it, I actually miss my old t-shirts, ripped jeans, and sneakers and I'd actually tried to convince Aphrodite to let me wear them out one time. As you can imagine, it didn't go so well. She'd went on and on about how important it is to look pretty and according to her, that was just the opposite. She'd explained how wearing that in public was "social suicide", but me being younger at the time, I didn't understand why clothes mattered when it should be about the music. Aphrodite had said that appearance was everything and so was how you presented yourself; she said my clothes presented me as too lazy to try, which to me seemed ridiculous, but I went along with it. Looking back on it, I wish I would have argued against it, told her that was a load of bull, and she should sit down and shut up.

After given yet another dress to try on, my ears nearly bled when Aphrodite squealed as she gawked over how good I looked in the red, skin-tight dress that barely went mid-thigh. It was definitely not my style with its low neckline that exposed more than I was comfortable with and the lack of material covering me. Plus, I didn't find the color that flattering on me. I wish it was a lush green like the sea, not a red so vibrant I looked like a moving stop sign.

"Oh, Annabeth, honey, you look gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. It really accentuates your curves and brings out your hair." Aphrodite gushed, practically bursting with excitement. "What do you think, Percy?" She said, sending him a wink.

"Burn it."

Thank you. Somebody understands fashion here.

"Why would anyone want to burn such a beautiful dress?" Aphrodite shrieked, appalled at such an idea.

"Because she looks like a whore. That dress does nothing for her. Neckline's too low, the length is too short, the color just doesn't work for her at all. She looks like some skank wannabe."

Holy Zeus. This boy gets it. He most likely meant for that to be a jab at me, thinking I actually found the dress appealing, but he hit the nail on the head. This thing was aw-ful. It had so many issues, it'd take years to name them all.

"Thank you for you input, Percy, but nobody asked you." Aphrodite snapped, a scowl on her face.

"But you jus-"

"Shhhh."

He let it drop, but he didn't look to happy that his opinion went in one ear and out the other. Percy doesn't know it or would be happy about it if he did, but he just did me a favor, criticizing the dress, making Aphrodite second guess the overall design. Maybe she'll change her mind and put something else together, something more….conservative.

Twenty outfits later and hundreds of comments from Percy, ranging from "Awful", "You look like a sausage", "That dress makes you look fat", "Why would anyone want to dress like they rolled around in garbage?", and "Who the hell makes these?", we finally found what I was going to wear on the cover of the magazine. And this one Percy actually approved of. Well, not approved, but said it didn't look as terrible as the others.

It was a simple, yellow dress that flowed around me whenever I moved and thankfully, wasn't so tight that it left nothing to the imagination. Nothing complex about it and I think that's why I liked it so much.

Once I was dressed, I was ushered into another room with a backdrop hanging off the wall. The photographer, a gruff looking man named Philippe, positioned me in front of it before returning to his expensive looking camera that was placed on a tripod. His finger was just about to hit the button when something in the corner of the room caught his attention and he jerked his head up, eyes widening as he took in-

Percy.

Ooookay. This is weird.

"You." He said, his voice shrill and high pitched. Philippe approached Percy slowing until he was less than a foot away. "Your face, it's perfect."

"Oh, ummm…thanks, I guess." Percy replied rather awkwardly as he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.

"It's just what I need for my next creation. You see, I'm on a strict deadline to produce a poster for an upcoming movie premier this Tuesday, but the lead role isn't able to come in to take the photo. You, you look just like him, dark hair, brilliant eyes, ruggedly handsome. You can take his place."

"Woah, woah, woah. You want to put him on a poster, a poster that everybody's going to see, a poster that fans all around the world are going to see." I cried, disbelief evident in my voice. When Philippe nodded, I swear my jaw hit the floor. Green envy engulfed my whole being. I should be on a movie poster, I even auditioned for a few movies, but I didn't make it in because more famous actors had already scored a spot. Why shouldn't I be the one with not only a hit music career, but a talented actress as well? Why does Percy get his face plastered on a poster that will no doubt be glued to every wall in the world? He didn't even have to try, work for it like the rest of us had to. "If you put him on there, you're not going to sell many posters. Even blind people gag at the sight of his face. Little children have nightmares."

Percy laughed humorlessly. "At least, I'm not the one whose so desperate to be noticed that I'd walk around town naked. You're like a sponge, you absorb all the attention because you know that within a year or so, you'll be forgotten, overshadowed by a new celebrity who'll be better than you. You'll do anything for fame. You'd probably gnaw off your own arm just get your name in the headlines."

"I like the fame, I'll admit it, but I wouldn't strip naked or chew on my arm like a dog toy to get it."

"Maybe not, but in that red dress, you're pretty close to it."

Before I could retort, Philippe cut in.

"Please, please, enough. You're going to give me a headache. Anyway, back to the matter at hand, will you do this for me, Percy. It would mean a lot and I'd even put your name on the poster, underneath the lead actor's."

"No, thank you, but no. I don't want people to know me, I don't want them to know my name from some stupid poster. Then, somebody out there will get this crazy idea to put me in a movie or something and I'll end up something like this thing over here." Percy sent a disgusted look my way before returning his attention to Philippe.

"No name. I'll pay you instead. I'll give you fame, fortune, whatever your heart desires."

"I don't want anything. I like my life how it is, thank you very much. I don't need money or every person on the planet knowing my name to be happy. I'm sorry, but no."

Did he hit his head on a rock on his way over here? This was a big deal and he just spat on it. He could've been someone, someone people looked up to, someone people wish they could be. Not the lonely boy living with a famous family who overshadows him. He could've been a worldwide hit and he threw it all away. The thing I want to know is why. Why would he give something like that up?

The remainder of the photo shoot was uneventful. Philippe snapped the photos for the magazine in silence, a scowl on his face whenever he glanced at Percy, who appear unaffected by the whole ordeal. Once Philippe was finished, he ushered- er…pushed was more like it- us out of the studio, but not without throwing a glare that was probably supposed to be intimidating, but failed miserably. If anything, it made him looked constipated.

Walter opened the side door of our freshly washed limo and Percy and I climbed inside, flopping ourselves down the cushy seats. Percy had sat in the seat opposite of me, eyes closed, breathing slowed, a soft snore escaping his parted lips. Man, that boy falls asleep fast. But who could blame him, he'd sat there for hours doing absolutely nothing, but disapprove of every outfit I'd tried on. Tiring business right there.

I attempted to focus my mind on my plans for my new album, but my mind began to wander, catching something far more enticing than music. Percy. His tousled, black hair hung low over his forehead, tiny pieces blowing up as he exhaled heavily. Beautiful, tanned skin layered over mountains of muscle. His navy blue shirt stretched across his broad chest, outlining his rock hard body. The material clung to his abdomen, exposing abs any guy would kill for and any girl would faint just given a peek. He was gorgeous, infuriating, but gorgeous. No guy had ever been able to take my breath away from just a single glance, leaving me gulping for air. But with a body like Percy's, anything is possible. My father had told me that Percy had been on the swim team at his old school and he was remarkable, fastest swimmer ever seen, won more medals than anyone would count. Which would explain the yummy physique. Swimming did him good.

"See something you like?" He asked, snapping me out of my trance, a cocky smirk adorning his features.

"No," I lied, sounding not at all as convincing as I'd hoped, "there's a stain on your shirt."

"Mmmhmmm. Sure there is." Leaning back in his seat, he folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes after sending me another smug smile.

He obviously was tired and wanted to be left alone, but something was nagging at the back of brain, a burning question itching to be asked. I knew I wouldn't be able to focus on anything else until it was answered.

"Why did your turn down Philippe's offer?" I asked curiously.

"Why would I? I'm happy with how my life is, I don't need money or fame to feel like my life's complete. At the end of the day, I just want to be me, nobody else. Being in front of camera after camera, interviewed in front of thousands, that's going to change everything. People are going to expect me to be some big shot, but that's not who I am, not who I want to be." He shrugged. "That's not me. And honestly, I really don't wanna turn out like you, spoiled rotten, self-centered, rude… The list goes on and on." He added as an afterthought, venom leaking into his voice.

"You always complain about me, but what about you? You don't know how good you've got it. You're lucky that my dad took you in when you had nowhere else to go. Right now you could be living in a dump with a trashy family who treats you like dirt and no one would even care. You're not a part of this family and you never will be. You don't belong. You're the little imperfection in an otherwise flawless family." I sneered.

"Flawless, my ass. It could've been if they wouldn't have given birth to such a bitchy daughter who looks at the world like it belongs to her, like if she's not the center of attention, the world will stop spinning or something."

"Oh yeah, well-"

"Both of you, hush. Mr. Chase has given me strict orders to make sure you two get along. Now, can you please stop the bickering and at least try to have a civilized conversation?" Walter hollered, his accent thickening as he berated us.

Instead, Percy and I did just the opposite, we remained silent the whole rest of the ride. He averted his gaze, locking it on the floor, carefully avoiding any and all eye contact with me, and I stared out the tinted windows, watching the world blur past us, as Percy's words rang through my head on repeat.

The moment we arrived home, Percy all but ripped the door of the hinges in his haste to exit the vehicle. He burst through the front door and clambered up the steps, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

My dad walked down the hallway, his aviator goggles perched atop his head. "How'd it go, honey?"

I sighed heavily.

"Just peachy."

There you go, guys. Chapter 3! :) Hope you enjoyed it. Leave me some feedback and tell me what you thought. Good? Bad? Terrible? Okay? Let me know!

Thanks for the reviews last chapter.

Review!

~TwistedTrident~