Insert disclaimer here.

CHAPTER ONE.

So what now?

I think to myself as I watch life pass me by. Seriously. I'm just sitting here, my back somehow comfortably leaning on the un-bulging portions of the climbing wall, pondering on what the hell I'm going to do with my life.

I retract one of my legs and bend it so my foot is flat on the ground, and I rest my elbow on it. I tap my fingers on the ground beside my other, still outstretched leg, and click my tongue on the roof of my mouth. I'm not so sure, but I think my ADHD gets even worse when I force myself to try and stay still.

I feel my foot begin to stomp rhythmically on the ground, switching from heel to toe, bouncing my elbow up and down.

Yup, I'm pretty sure it's getting worse by the second.

My mind starts racing as I try to search for something to do, not only regarding my life or anything that has to do with my future—because it gets pretty boring thinking of things to do for something that hasn't even happened yet—but, also, just something to do right at this moment. I've been sitting here since after breakfast, and I think I accidentally skipped lunch because I honestly haven't moved at all. Fine, maybe a few bathroom breaks—like four—but, technically, I've been a human statue.

"Nico."

I look up at the sound of my voice, arching my eyebrows up suspiciously because since I've got years of experience on my side, I know that when someone says my name sternly, somberly, or basically with no humorous tone at all, good news is the last thing you could expect.

"Percy." I try to imitate his tone, but I fail miserably as I fight back the urge to laugh while I say it. For someone who's come from a family who lives for, well, death and stuff (ironically enough), I virtually have no 'serious-function' programmed into my hard-drive.

I quirk my lips into what I know is an awkward smile, but I keep it there until I feel the mood lighten up.

Percy chuckles. "Heads up." He tosses a paper bag at me.

"What's this?" I ask as I catch it, opening it hesitantly.

"Food," he declares. "You skipped lunch, so I just thought I'd give you some." He crouches down beside me.

"Right," I deadpan. "Thanks. You didn't cook this, did you?" I cock an eyebrow.

"Nope," he replies. I open the paper bag slightly wider and stick my head in a bit more to get a better look. "Grover did."

"Fuck—" I jerk my head back and slap the paper bag shut, scrunching up my nose and puffing up my cheeks as I hold my breath.

"Gods, Nico—chill—I'm just kidding!" Percy chuckles as he leans back, his palms digging the ground, and he slowly sits down.

I give Percy one of my 'death glares', but, unfortunately, I can't do it quite right. Note to self: spend ten more minutes in front of the mirror tonight.

I'm just kidding! I don't really stare at the mirror for twenty, or occasionally more, minutes practicing my glares . . . psh . . .

"Just eat it before it gets too cold." He pushes the bag towards me.

I open it and quickly reach in for its contents. I take out what looks like a ball wrapped in tinfoil. Slowly, I peel of the top. I'm seeing bread with sesame seeds, vegetables—maybe lettuce, tomatoes . . .

"A cheeseburger?" I smirk at Percy.

"Hey, getting it practically cost me an arm and a leg!" Percy points at me accusingly. "If Chiron found out I snuck out of camp to buy you that, I'd be a dead man!"

"You would've died a martyr," I tease before biting into my burger. My taste buds tingle as the flavor explodes in my mouth, along with the heat trapped, because of the tinfoil, in the very core of the burger.

"Hmm, martyrdom does sound like a pretty awesome way to die," he rubs his invisible pointy Confucius-beard, pretending like he's actually thinking about it.

"Future generations will forever talk about how you risked your life by sneaking out to buy a burger, only to be killed by a thousand-year-old pony because of your stubborn rebellion," I joke.

"A burger for a friend," he adds. "Risking lives for friendships always makes for great publicity."

"Sure." I take another bite of my burger. It was delicious! I haven't eaten a burger in so long, this tasted like heaven in my mouth—a heaven grilled with (real, not fake!) cheese that melts in your mouth, only to go together superbly with everything else in the burger. And bacon, for some reason, this burger has some bacon. But hey, I'm not complaining.

"You really love burgers, don't you?" Percy chuckles.

I nod, feeling my cheeks, which stretch further as I try to fit more and more of the burger into my mouth, bobble a little.

"You know who else loves burgers?" he asks casually. I look at him questioningly, arching my eyebrows up. He breathes deeply, as if trying to remember some distant memory.

"Thalia."

He shrugs as he says her name so calmly.

I, on the other hand, nearly spit out my cheeseburger and freeze.

Remember what I said about 'The Big Kids' having that special connection when it came to one another? Well, I hate it sometimes.

Sometimes includes now.

And now also includes Percy.

So I kinda hate Percy right now.

Go figure.

It took a whole lot of willpower to keep my mouth from dropping open and letting my burger spill out, but I managed, even if it was the only thing I was able to do.

"Whoa, Nico," Percy says, his mouth gaping stupidly because he's trying to piss me off. Damn it all, it was working! "I never knew you could get so red."

"Eat Persephone's flowers, Percy," I finally manage to cough out. And when I say 'cough' I seriously mean cough. I think I'm actually becoming genuinely mute.

Percy laughs and pats my back. "Geez, Nico, I thought you had a sense of humor," Percy teases.

"Ha-ha," I laugh mockingly. I manage to sound normal enough now, but my voice is still a bit pitchy.

The thing with me is, I pretty much have only two versions—happy and the whole enchilada, blah blah blah; and pissed off, where my humor disappears completely and I become obstinate. Basically, I become my father. This is where the names of my two versions come in—my happy side is my 'Nico'-side and the other one is my 'Hades'-side.

Don't tell him I told you that though, he would flip out.

Anyway, back to my point.

So, pretty much every moment of everyday, I only have two versions that switch accordingly, depending on which one is more appropriate (well, more often than not, that's what happens).

BUT, if you mix Thalia in with any of the situations, my versions go haywire. I can't think straight. I can't function right and my mind just goes blank. She's like the virus in my software.

Hades, I seriously have to stop spending so much time with those Hephaestus kids.

And, basically, to hide all of those mixed feelings just bursting inside of me, I try to calm myself and avert my attention by acting chill, calm, and serious, and stuff. The chill and calm part is practically my usual self, so most people don't really notice when something's up. But those who know me, like Old McJackson over here, immediately know when something's off. It goes—'Holy Zeus! Nico is being serious!'—and then they try to get to the bottom of it. Just like that.

Sometimes, I hate having people who care so much.

"Why so serious?" Percy asks. His voice squeaks as he forces back his laughs to cough out the words.

I take another try at a death glare and this time, it feels a little more like a death glare than just an ordinary glare, or just ordinary . . . death?

Percy nudges me. I squirm farther away from him. "Alright, fine. Be that way. I don't care." He crosses his arms and turns his head away. I don't even bother to move.

After a short, deafening . . . and short silence, Percy turns back to me.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Nope," I answer honestly.

"Thalia?" he asks.

"Yup." I pop the 'p' at the end.

"Damn," he breathes.

The upside about 'The Big Kids' connection we have, we don't need long sentences. We just get it. It may have taken a while to get it right, but at least I have someone who gets what I'm trying to say without me really saying it. It's just what I need right now, honestly.

"Which one?" he asks.

"She left the hunt," I say.

"Again?"

"Twice in a row." I sigh.

"You sure you haven't eaten anything nasty before you slept that might've triggered it?" he suggests.

"Positive," I reply. "I haven't eaten anything Grover's touched in two years."

"Since the 'Spicy Tuna incident'?" He laughs.

"I've never looked at sandwiches, burritos, tortillas, enchiladas and tacos the same way again." I laugh.

"But you still love burgers." He chuckles.

"I still love burgers," I repeat.

Percy sighs. "Well then," he says as he slowly stands up, wobbling awkwardly because it's almost never comfortable to crouch for more than three minutes, and even less comfortable to stand up afterwards. He looks down at me, because I'm still leaning on the climbing wall with a burger at hand.

"You coming?" he asks.

"Where to, exactly?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Wherever we need to go, I guess. I don't really know."

I laugh. "Maybe next time. Thank you, though," I mumble the last part.

"You're welcome." He chuckles. "Just make sure you're not here in ten minutes, or I'm coming back with reinforcements."

"Annabeth?" I cock an eyebrow.

"Grover's cooking." He sticks his tongue out.

I cringe just thinking about it. "Deal," I say.

"Awesome." He waves goodbye then runs off to Zeus-knows-where, leaving me here to ponder about more things.

Like . . . how much I want to finish my reunion with my beloved cheeseburger, how much I miss Thalia, how mosquitoes shouldn't even exist, all the times I've dreamt of Thalia, how not even cooking lessons with the elites could teach Grover how to cook, how even one little mention or thought of Thalia sends a million butterflies fluttering in my stomach . . .

I grunt as I slap another mosquito trying to suck me dry. Fuck mosquitoes. Fuck the heat. Fuck Thalia. Fuck the burger I can't even fucking finish anymore. You know what, fuck the world. It's what's keeping me alive in this mess that is 'my life' anyway. Oh, and, fuck Thalia.

I adjust my position a bit so both my hands can grab a portion of the climbing wall, then push myself up. I feel the rocks digging into my back and I resist the urge to wince in pain. I really should've thought this through.

Once I'm on my feet, I push myself from the wall and try to massage my back a bit. After realizing that you can't really massage yourself, I try to shrug it off, place my hands in the pockets of my gray hoodie—which is really comfortable and soft, by the way. Grandma Demeter got it for me last Christmas after she said how much she detested the overuse of my Aviator jacket . . . which isn't the point here—and start walking.

I keep walking, staring blankly into space, until I'm pulled out of my reverie by a thick, marble post that rams straight into my face.

"Oww," I whine, rubbing the lump on my forehead, which I know will become a bruise tomorrow.

I step back to see the cause of my to-be-bruise and gape. "What in Hades—" I say as I realize just which cabin, of all the damn cabins, I managed to meander off to.

I really hate clichés.

I spin on my heel, trying to turn away from the Zeus cabin, but I can't seem to take any more steps when my back is turned. I face it once more, walking forward a bit, until I'm just a step away from mounting the steps.

"Styx," I curse under my breath. I climb the stairs and take a seat on the highest one. I rest my elbows near my knees and slump my back. I bet I look really 'emo' right now.

It's probably because I really am.

I purse my lips and sigh one more time. Maybe I should've gone with Percy. That would've helped me more than wallowing in self-pity on the steps of Cabin #1, because moping never fixed anything.

Unfortunately, much like a while ago with the climbing wall, I find myself glued to the spot. I'm transfixed here by all of the thoughts spinning inside my brain, and all the memories that seem to be resurfacing because of all the memories triggering them.

Why the hell do I keep dreaming about Thalia?

If I wasn't a demigod, these dreams could easily be the result of an obsession with the person—I AM NOT IMPLYING ANYTHING, I AM NOT OBSESSED. But because I am, in fact, a demigod, each little thing in the dream could have some unknown hidden meaning gnawing at me.

At first I thought I was being ridiculous thinking that Thalia might be trying to communicate with me, but after dreaming of her so much and talking to Percy about it, we both decided that 'The Big Kids' connection was stronger than we thought, and that Thalia was really trying to tell me something. I just have no idea what, and why, and it's killing me.

It's horrible, waking up from each dream, especially because I want her so much. Day and night, I practically spend most of my time wishing for her—to hear her voice again, to see her blue eyes again, Hades, even just a glimpse of her—and my dreams give that to me, until I wake up.

Just like John Mayer said—"When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part."

I only come to my senses when I notice all of the campers rushing back into their cabins, their footsteps and laughter echoing in the darkness. Time developed a bad habit off passing by me today. Luckily, none of the campers give me a second look. I guess hanging out in the shadows so much does have its benefits.

Since I'm way too lazy to stand up and use the normal way of transportation, I close my eyes and try to shadow travel back inside my cabin.

I open my eyes to find that I've managed to screw up again and end up . . . not in my cabin. Instead, the cabin—hopefully I'm still within camp borders or else I'll be in some deep shit later on—I shadow traveled to was the complete opposite of mine. Its walls were a blend of light blue and white, making it look like you've somehow ended up in the clouds. There were bright streaks of lightning in the parts of the wall with a bit more gray.

Of course, the lightning bolts were a dead giveaway, but I only truly believed it when I saw the bed. It was bright blue, and painted on the walls above it was Zeus on his throne, wearing a bright gold clock around his neck.

Holy Hades. I'm in Cabin #1. El Cabin de Zeus-io.

I grin as I look around the parts I suspect they left untouched for Thalia's sake. Her old army jacket hung on one of the bedposts, surprisingly clean—aside from the dust it collected over the years, but still.

I decide to stop being such a creeper and make for the door, and only realize my stupidity when I turn the doorknob and it doesn't budge.

Of course it's locked. No one's supposed to be in here, so why should they worry about someone needing to get out?

I plop on the floor, lean on the cold walls, and snap my eyes shut. I open my eyes and see cloudy walls instead of just black. I turn my head and close my eyes again. I open them once more, unfortunately, just to see a bright blue bed, a giant Zeus above it with his bright golden clock-necklace instead of my nice gray sheets and bedside table that has my new green T-Rex clock (it glows in the dark, it's cool).

I look down, but I don't bother to close my eyes anymore. Instead, I just stare into blank space. I feel myself slowly drift away . . .

I only stir when I feel Thalia's pokes shock my cheeks, but I keep my eyes closed as the ecstasy of her lips above mine consumes me.

Wait—

What?

REVIEW!

Thank you so much for all the support I got from the prologue! I didn't know something so short would get so much feedback, so it really meant so much to me!

As promised, a longer chapter! I know, there isn't much Thalico action here, just Nico wallowing over the broken heart he's ended up with after falling in love with Thalia, who is practically the world's most unattainable girl, but I still hope you liked it! I have to admit, this wasn't the first chapter I was expecting, but then again, I wouldn't want this story to be predictable in any way, so if it's unpredictable even with it's author... that's good, right?

My internet is being a bitch now, so until we get it fixed, I'm forced to use my desktop with its mood swings and refusal to let me place any breakers, so I'll have to add them later on, probably when I go to my grandma's house - yes, ironic right? My grandmother has better internet than I do :O BOTH OF THEM! The world is mean. Hahahaha!

I'm not so sure, but Percy might be OC a bit, because I had to make him this way to fit into the story. The only characters that have to be really IC are Nico and Thalia anyway, right? Hehehe.

Reviews are loved (: along with ideas, feedback, and comments on how much you love Thalico, because it makes my day to find that I've somehow converted someone into Thalico-ism.

Sincerely - Schoe!

PS. Along with "So Contagious", I've made "Addicted" by Simple Plan one of the "theme" songs for this story. Works, right? [ I do not own any of these songs ]