A/N: Soooo it's been a long time since I've updated this story and yet some of you continue to come back and ask for updates, which blows my mind. It's been like 2 years and you guys are still loyal, so thank you thank you thank you. I've been busy with university and life in general and just completely neglected all of my writing. I just haven't had the time like I used to, but I truly wish to start again. I'm so sorry. I'm gonna try to give you guys a bit of an update. I realize how OOC all of the characters are and I'm cringing, soooo I'm sorry for that hahaha.

I'm gonna try to change this up a bit and make it exciting once more - like old times, ON WITH THE SHOW!

Formerly SLTF, now obliviovsly .x

..:..:..

I scoured the area for any sign of my other sock and my shoes, determined to focus on anything but the voicemails that remained unheard on my cell phone. I was still shocked that I had even drunk-texted Annabeth and Luke. What a way to shoot myself in the foot.

Head throbbing, I made my way into the hall and spotted a sock that was similar to the one on my foot near the closet. With a sigh, I pulled it on.

Now to find my shoes...

I squinted at the sunlight peeking through the window in the living room, showing several people passed out on the couch, ottoman, carpet and even one slumped against the TV. My shoes were underneath the table that had been dragged halfway into this room. I shoved my feet into them, groaning as I felt stickiness in my right one. I didn't even want to guess what was in there. I took deep breaths to steady my turning stomach, praying to any Gods above that I wouldn't hurl again.

Once I felt the nausea pass, I stood up and began to make my way out, carefully stepping over limp bodies. I spotted my bag by the door, thankfully untouched, and slung it onto my back. It clinked loudly with my empty bottles from the night before.

Dear God, I could not go home like this. I was seriously hungover, smelled like shit, looked worse, and I just couldn't bear the thought of walking into my house and how my mom would look at me, her eyes dark with judgement and a scowl marring her face.

But where can I go?

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself on a familiar doorstep. One I have been on many times. I remember eating ice cream here on hot summer days, or kicking a soccer ball at the door, laughter circling our heads like birds.

Don't knock on the door. I thought as my closed fist rapped on the wood once, twice, three times.

It took a few minutes for Luke to open the door, but when he did, he froze. His eyes glossed over with fury and his lips formed into a cold snarl.

"Let me explain," I croaked out, holding up my hands defensively.

"Explain what? How much of a hypocrite you are?" Luke snapped.

I flinched at the word 'hypocrite', knowing how much I beat myself up for being the epitome of that word over the past few days.

"Yes. That." I said with a non-committal half-shrug.

"What are you doing here if you aren't going to actually apologize, Jackson?"

Ouch. Not even on first name basis anymore?

"I am here to apologize, asshole, just let me talk first!" I shouted, hands curling into fists.

"I'm not going to waste my time with this." Luke cut me off, his face as cold as stone. "You can find another friend to fuck around with, maybe they'll put up with your bullshit. But it's not me. Not anymore." And with that, Luke stepped back and slammed the door in my face. I stumbled backwards in shock, tripping over my feet only to fall backwards on my butt.

That went well, I thought, shaking my head. I took a few deep breaths to gather myself before standing up and brushing myself off, sending one last look towards Luke's house before walking away, defeat weighing heavily on my shoulders. What was I even trying to do by going to Luke's house? Was I still drunk? I mentally kicked myself in the head. All that I could think of was apologizing, because I had been a hypocrite - of the worst kind. But then the rage came tumbling back, about Luke, about Annabeth, about everything.

To get my mind off it, I called Grover as I walked. He answered with a groan and a few choice swear words before saying I could come in and shower so I didn't stink to high Olympus when I went home. A few minutes later, I let myself in and ran up to Grover's room, saying hello before bolting into the washroom. When I finally emerged clean and nice-smelling, Grover was sitting up in bed, staring into my backpack.

"Have a bit of fun last night, man?" He asked with an eyebrow raise, jiggling my bag so the empty bottles clinked together.

"Define 'fun'..." I replied, finishing drying my hair with a towel before hanging it up on the rack inside the bathroom.

"How about you define it, since you were the one who decided to make this whole drama situation even worse by getting plastered and drunk-texting your ex and your ex-best friend?"

I stopped to glare at Grover, who was glaring back with equal fervor.

"I thought you were supposed to be my friend too?" I challenged.

"Who just let you wash your stank ass in their shower?"

I gripped my hair in frustration, letting out a groan.

"Dude, you can't expect me to agree with what you did," Grover scoffed. "Yes, Annabeth and Luke fucked you over, but you fucked them over with Callie. It's just karma, man."

"But is it ever going to go back to normal?" I whispered hoarsely, sitting heavily on the end of Grover's bed before placing my head in my hands.

"All you can do is own up to your actions and hope they own up to theirs. Maybe if you all stop being fucking children and act your own age, things will change."

"Yeah..." I muttered, my head still pounding.

"But Perce," I felt Grover place a hand on my shoulder and give it a tight squeeze. "Things are never going to go back to normal."

..:..:..

Time passed quickly, despite the events that had transpired, and before I knew it, it was Monday morning and my mom was forcing me to go to school.

"It's either that or you're going to the hospital to figure out what the problem is because this isn't like you, Percy." She demanded with her hands on her hips.

"Fine, fine." I rolled myself out of bed and dragged my feet to my closet. I carelessly grabbed a white shirt and threw a red plaid one over top. I managed to stick my legs in the correct holes of a pair of dirty jeans from the other day. After a moment's deliberation, I grabbed my black floppy beanie and yanked it over my head, too tired to try to tame the beast upon my scalp.

I grabbed my bag and my books, trudging downstairs. I quickly inhaled my breakfast before kissing my mom goodbye and setting off to enter Hades itself.

I made sure to keep my head down as I walked through the doors of the school, aiming to just get through this week and avoid human contact at all costs.

Of course, I'm never that lucky.

As I was turning the lock to open up my locker, I felt two hands shove me roughly forward so my entire body slammed audibly against my locker.

I pushed myself off and spun around to meet the fiery gray glare of Annabeth Chase.

"Annabeth-" I started, my voice laden with apology.

"No." She spat out, thrusting her finger in my face. "You do NOT get the pleasure of speaking to me, Percy Jackson. You disgusting, terrible, lying HYPOCRITE!" her voice rose several octaves at the end, making me cringe back against the lockers as our scene began to draw a crowd. "I know I fucked up, but you never even gave me a chance to explain myself or let us work it out. You just blatantly ignored me for almost two weeks and then go and accuse me of terrible things over fucking text messages?!"

"Annabeth, I-" I tried again, but this time I was stopped by her hand slapping my left cheek so hard that my head snapped back.

"Shut up," she snarled, still pointing her finger in my face. I tried my best to focus on her face instead of the curious crowd whispering around me. "Don't you ever speak to me again, Percy Jackson."

I could see the tears gathering in her eyes, and my mouth parted slightly, watching the pain forming on her face.

With a noise sounding like a mix between a scoff and a sob, she turned and forced her way through the crowd. I stood there, buffeted by a constant barrage of questions and whispers, watching Annabeth disappear in a matter of seconds.

"Get out of my way," I croaked, lurching away from my locker to push people away. I stumbled blindly into the boy's bathroom and into the nearest stall. I sat down heavily on the toilet seat, holding my head in my hands. Taking deep breaths, I fought back tears. It's not like I expected her to welcome me back with open arms, especially after what I did while I was drunk out of my mind.

"Congrats, Jackson," I said to myself. "In only a matter of weeks, you succeeded in hurting two of the most important girls in your life."

The bell rang shrilly overhead, signally that I was now officially late to class.

Gathering up all the dignity I had left, I left the stall and caught my reflection in the mirror. I could almost make out the outline of Annabeth's hand out of the red mark on my cheek.

I trudged into my homeroom class, head down and avoiding eye contact. This was going to be a rough week.

And it was.

The only people who would still talk to me were Nico and Grover. Bianca made it clear that until I figured out some way to make it up to Annabeth, she was keeping her distance. I knew that Nico got his own blast of shit from Bianca about this, but Nico and I had been friends since grade school, so I think that connection kept him from severing all ties to me completely.

I was a social pariah.

Rachel and her friends hated me, but still enjoyed the fact that I screwed Annabeth over (who they happened to hate more than me).

Annabeth and Bianca still ate at our old lunch table, occasionally joined by Luke. Over the course of the next two weeks, I observed (from my table in the dirty corner of the cafeteria joined by Nico and Grover) that Luke and Annabeth were on better and better terms. Like... getting to the point of flirting. This time, publicly.

And I still couldn't stop the roiling pain of jealousy from stirring in my gut.

Meanwhile, I had multiple missed texts and calls from Callie, who I couldn't bear to even think about replying to.

"So what is your deal?" Nico asked while obnoxiously chewing on a French Fry in the midst of the third week since Annabeth graced my face with the power of her slap.

"What do you mean?" I asked, stabbing at my lasagna as I watched Annabeth slap Luke's arm. Her hair was in a neat plait over one shoulder today.

"Do you still like Annabeth?"

"What kind of question is that?" I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, I dunno, I thought it might be valid seeing as though you made out with your friend's girlfriend even though you were dating her. Seemed like a legitimate question." Nico snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. "And all you do is mope around. Are you ever going to man up and apologize and TRY to fix things between you and Luke and her? Or are you going to sit on your ass for the rest of the school year?"

I put my fork down and looked Nico dead in the eye. He was mad, that much was obvious.

"It isn't that easy-" I started, trailing my gaze back to our old table.

"Yes it is. They might slam the door in your face, or block your calls. They may even get a restraining order against you. But the fact that you gave up so easily after both of them told you to fuck off is some pussy shit."

"Nico!" I whipped my head to look at him.

"What? I'm just speaking the truth, man. Get your shit together and fix this. You all screwed up. You aren't the only one at fault here, but you were the biggest hypocrite in the situation. So do something about it instead of letting us all suffer from your guys' drama. I've had enough." Nico stood up, grabbing his box of pizza and slung his bag over his shoulder. "I'm just sick of it. Until you do something, I'll eat my lunch in the library for all I care. I just can't believe that both of them AND you still won't take the initiative to work this out. You guys aren't the only ones affected by this. That's all I have to say."

And with that, Nico left.

I sat there, speechless, watching my friend's back as he pushed open the cafeteria doors and turned down the hall.

"Well. That was some real talk right there."

I turned to look at Grover, who was gnawing on a celery stick dipped in peanut butter.

"What? It's true. It's been hard on the entire group, not just you and them. I'm glad someone finally said it. I just couldn't figure out how to say that all so... eloquently."

"I know it's true," I mumbled, shoving my tray away from me, my appetite officially gone. "I will. Do something."

"Good." Grover shrugged before starting to choke on his celery.

..:..:..

This was probably the scariest moment in my entire life. Even more intimidating than facing those crazy guys outside of the club.

Because I didn't know what was going to happen. I couldn't predict an oncoming punch, or which way to duck.

I was going in and I was going to have to own up to the shitty things that I've done. And not knowing what they were going to say, or how they were going to react was absolutely terrifying.

But what else was I supposed to do?

And with that, I took the final two steps up to Luke's door, and knocked once, twice, three times.