AN: Um, Hi *awkwardly waves* So you guys probably hate me now because I haven't updated in a long time. Sorry about that but I had writers block and I was going through a kinda of tough time...So at least I have some excuses for my absence. Anyhoo, here's the next chapter of LVB. Hope you like it! Please R & R!

Leo's Pov

I wake up to the cool morning air, elated by the fact that I had actually gotten sleep two nights in a row. The rest of the ship is still, quiet. Kind of like the quiet before the storm - still but tense, calm but eerie. My light red sheets make a ruffling sound as I turn to the side. Pausing when I feel the faint throbbing in my wrist and see the blade peeking out of the top drawer of my dresser. Still scarlet tipped with blood. My blood.

Grimacing I relive the events from last night

*Flashback*

"Leo didn't even do anything. I mean he fixed up a few scratches on the boat and is fixing dinner but he didn't help in the real fight." Frank says.

"He did help Frank, I could tell the damage done to the boat was bigger than a few scratches but he didn't want to brag about how much he'd done." Hazel replies.

"Guys...the kitchen is silent."

*End Flashback*

I can't believe I let myself think that these people actually cared about me. That they actually wanted me there. Being a third wheel is terrible but being the seventh wheel is terrifying. Knowing that you are all alone in the world. Tricking yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe, someone actually cares about you but you haven't noticed it yet. But also knowing that no matter how much you want to be loved, no matter how much you want people to care about you, they don't. They don't care how many nights you cry yourself to sleep. How many carvings you make on yourself. How the only way you know how to cry is through thick, red drops that drip from the cuts you made on yourself.

I feel pain shoot up my arm, starting at my wrist. I unwrap the bandage to look at the crisscrossing lines now exposed on my skin. Some faded and white, others pink, almost faded but not completely, and others a bright red, fresh and full of color. And I look at myself and I feel disgusted. Like I know what I am doing is wrong, but I still find pleasure in the fact that I can control my pain. That I am able to find ways of letting it out without others knowing. Without them realizing I am fucking messed up. That I am too broken to be put back together.

When people know someone self harms they don't get why someone would want to purposely hurt themselves. They don't realize that the pain from our cuts helps us release our pain emotionally. Like it leaves for a bit when we bleed. When we're depressed it helps us actually feel something. Even I can't completely explain why I do it. I guess I just do it because it helps.

Wrapping the bandage around my wrist I find a sense of pleasure in watching the white cloth touching my cuts turn a dull red before I finish wrapping the bandage around my wrist. I notice, not for the first time, how thin my wrist is. But it's not thin enough. I can't compare to Percy or Jason. Their bodies are seemingly flawless. Sure there is the occasional scar but what demigod doesn't have scars. I'm disgusted by the fact that I let myself become this fat. I weigh 100 pounds! I need to stop eating so much, maybe that's why nobody likes me. Maybe I'm not handsome or sexy enough. Or tall or lean enough. Maybe nobody likes me because-

My train of thought is cut off by someone knocking on my door. With a sigh I get up to open it. Making sure to cover up the bandage with my shirt sleeve.

To my surprise I am greeted by the concerned face of Hazel. I was ready to tell off Jason and Percy so I could go back to my pity party but the sight of Hazel left me slightly stunned. Not that I like her or anything. It's just not what I was expecting.

I hastily slip on a grin while gesturing for her to enter. She goes to sit on my bed. Calmly moving the clothes on my bed to the side as if this was a normal occurrence. I'm glad I bandaged myself before I got in bed last night or else I would have some explaining to do.

I walk towards my dresser picking up clothes on the way. Assuming an embarrassed face because of the chaos that is my room. Also using this as an excuse to close my top drawer so she won't see the knife.

I settle into an armchair, conveniently located in my room, rather close to my bed.

"So Hazel, as much as I love your company I am guessing you didn't just come here to hang out." She nods and meets my eyes.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh. Why wouldn't I be okay?" I know perfectly well why she is concerned but I have to play it off. I love Hazel like a sister and I don't want to burden her with my petty problems.

She clears her throat nervously, "Well, last night, um Frank wasn't being the nicest to you. I don't know if you uh, heard the conversation but I wanted to let you know that Frank is sorry and the others are sorry too. I wanted, um, I mean, we wanted to make sure you were okay and to let you know that you are a valuable part of our group."

Why didn't Frank tell me himself that he was sorry?

"I'm fine Hazel. We were all a bit out of sorts last night." Understatement of the century. "Frank and I have a weird sort of friendship." Lies! We are not friends at all. "We get on each other's nerves sometimes but it's all good."

Hazel hesitantly nods, "Okay, well um, don't be a stranger. I miss, I mean, we miss you. So come up and hang out. You don't have to work all the time." Hazel paused for a moment. "And, thanks for understanding and know that we really, really didn't mean it."

I don't mind you Hazel since you stuck up for me and have always been there for me since we first met but I don't know about the others.

"Okay. I'll be up later."

After another reminder for me to come up and hang out. Hazel leaves, most likely heading upstairs to hold hands with her boyfriend.

I change my pj's for actual clothes and head up to the deck. Praying to every god I know, hoping that Frank won't be up there, but just my luck, he's the first person I run into when I turn the corner. Literally. He glares at me for awhile but noticing the look Hazel gives him he turns and heads in the other direction, away from me.

Though as he walks away I hear him mutter, "by the way, your mother's taco recipe sucks."