Disclaimer: I'm not going to repeat this, so listen up— I DO NOT OWN THE PERCY JACKSON CHARACTERS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS.

This is a new story; I like the idea of it. :-)


The Prologue: A Player & A Faker.

Percy's Point of View:

I'm officially screwed. Again.

Why, you might ask? Oh, no reason. I just slept with my mom's friend's sister's daughter. And then didn't call back. For a long, long time. I think she's going to hurl a flamethrower at me when she sees me.

As of now, I'm running down a dark, brick alley. I've been down this alley many, many times. Always for the same reason. Running from a girl I slept with, of course.

I wonder how I do it. How I end up in the same situation again and again.

I turned slowly, only to see Madeline Freesia/Twelfth-Girl-I-Slept-With-This-Year/Mom's-Friend's-Sister's-Daughter's-Friend. She was cute, so I could see why I hit the sack with her. She huffed at me, panting from running after me and yelling at the same time. I had heard a few of the curses she'd thrown at me; a few were quiet creative, actually.

"Maddy," I said, smiling sheepishly, trying to weasel myself out of this. I really don't get how it happens. I don't want to be a player. I don't aim for it. It just…happens.

"Do. You. Have. Any. Idea. How. Long. I. Waited?" Each word was accompanied by a rock she picked up from the floor and chucked at me.

I cringed, trying to block the rocks. "Um," I said, not meeting her gaze, "A while?"

Wrong thing to say, Percy. What a wrong, wrong thing to say.

"A WHILE?" she screamed, running up to me, yelling in my face. "I WAITED WEEKS! I DIDN'T LISTEN TO THE RUMORS, I THOUGHT YOU WERE DIFFERENT!"

I gulped, not knowing where to look. I settled on my shoes, which seemed like the safest place for now. I really didn't know what to say. I always said the same thing, but now, well, it just seemed lame.

"I, er, am sorry about that," I said, clearing my throat. I took a deep breath and finally looked her in the eye. She looked livid and hurt at the same time. "Look, I hate that I didn't call. I just…lost track of things. Things that happened." She was sobbing now.

"Are you calling me forgettable?" She asked, tearily.

I shook my head vigorously. "No! No, no, no. I'm just saying…that things didn't go the way I, um, planned that night. I never meant to cause you any harm…or hope."

More sobbing. More me gulping, trying to get past these awkward moments.

"I guess…stupid…didn't want…you're right," she finally decided, hiccupping. "It was stupid. Let's just…forget okay?"

She sounded so sad. God, I was a bastard. But, instead of launching into some kind of amazing speech about how awesome she was and how I didn't deserve her, I just nodded. Madeline just turned around walking away, still crying.

I sunk against one of the red brick walls, head in my hands. I was such an idiot. I always let this happen. And the guilt, that guilt, it ate at me forever, until I felt like I could puke.

I was that guy. You know, the one that sleeps with all your friends and was always super good in bed, so more girls come and sleep with him.

The only part people leave out is what happens afterwards. Yeah, there's yelling and screaming and crying. But then there's that unbearable guilt on the part of the guy that is just incredibly clueless.

That guy would be me. Perseus Jackson.

Annabeth's Point Of View:

I sighed at the sight of my room.

My dorm, I corrected myself internally. There was a soft cream on the walls, two desks of light wood and a two single bed; one with a red comforter and one with a blue one.

I walked into my room, towing my suitcases and pushing them to a corner after getting them into the dorm. I settled on the "blue" side of the room, since it was the empty side. I had been able to room with one of my best friends, Thalia Grace. She had already claimed the red side.

I bounced a bit on the bed. It seemed comfy enough. I lay down, stretch my arms over my head, but yelped when the accidently touched the cool bars of the head-board or whatever you call it.

This year will be different, I promised myself. There will be no fighting, no mocking in the hallways and no painful jibes yelled from far away.

I snorted. That wasn't even convincing to me. Hell, a hamster wouldn't fall for it.

At that moment, Thalia burst into the room, on her cell. She was looking stunningly gorgeous as always, without a worry in the world. Her sexy gothic style was still in place.

She was beautiful. As usual.

After talking to some girl named Maddy Freesia for a bit, with much fewer giggles and much more coaxing, Thals finally hung up. She turned to me and yelled;


I groaned and got up to hug her. She squeezed me tightly for a few moments, then finally let go to say, "I missed you so much! How was your summer?"

I nodded in agreement, smiling a bit, playing with the end of my long ponytail. "I missed you, too! Summer was fine. A bit boring, but fine. The cottage was fun."

Thalia gave me a big grin, "Want to ask how my summer went?"

I rolled my eyes, turning to grab one of my suitcases as I began to unpack. "How did your summer go, Thalia?"

"I was finally deflowered."

I dropped the picture frame I was holding. Thalia grabbed it just in time, muttering something about breaking it.

"You lost…it?" I gaped.

Thalia nodded. She gave me a small smile. "It was amazing. With this guy who lived next door. Ugh, how cliché, guy-next-door and crap. But still. God, Annabeth…you just…" She ended her charade with a sigh and falling onto her bed.

It was understandable; we were starting our junior year at Saint Ives Boarding School. And Thalia was a beautiful, popular seventeen-year-old girl; raven hair, electric blue eyes and all. She was usually nice but had an edge to her personality that some couldn't handle.

I gulped, finally accepting it. "That was…abrupt?"

Thalia giggled. She tossed her short hair, turned to me and said, "No biggie. He moved away, but it wasn't too bad. I did cry though."

She cried. "Holy shit."

Thalia flashed her eyes at me as she got out of bed. "Please. I'm not that emotionless."

I muttered, "You kinda are," but she ignored me. She was halfway to the door of our dorm when she finally said something about getting food, hunger and cafeteria. I waved her off.

When I was alone again, I locked the door and turned to see a huge mirror that was one of doors of the closet. Ahhh, a mirror. I hated mirrors with a passion. They only reminded of things I didn't want to be reminded of.

In the mirror I saw myself. Well, the façade of me; what I liked to call Fake Me.

The girl in the mirror right now was tall with blonde hair in a pony. Hair that looked like it had some kind of mold smeared in it. The girl also had red acne all over her face, a uni-brow, along with an unappealing girl-stache. Her ears were visibly full of ear wax. Her arms were covered in hair, most it if shown because of the short sleeved Polo shirt she wore.

And, as if that was hideous enough, she had a huge mole smack in the middle of her forehead, like some kind of estranged bindi. Her arms were covered in hair, most it if shown because of the short sleeved Polo shirt I wore. Her only remotely nice feature were her eyes; dark, stormy grey.

I sighed as I looked in the mirror. I checked on last time that the door was locked and Thalia's key was with me. Then, I went to the bathroom attached to our dorm and took a long shower. I gulped, knowing that there was a mirror in the bathroom, that seeing myself, my actual self, would be inevitable.

After a nice lemon-soap filled showering, I wrapped a towel around myself and went back to the room. My back was facing the door-mirror. I turned slowly, eyes squeezed shut.

It's inevitable, Annabeth. Just look at yourself. Just look at the real you. Without the lies.

I felt tears burn my retinas. I had been cursed, it was turn. Only in the strangest way.

I opened my eyes.

At first, I didn't look at myself. I focused on the plastic hair strips, the ones I tapped onto my arms, the stick on mole, the playdough I smeared into my hair to make it frizzy and moldy-looking, fake ear-wax I shoved into my ear, and Halloween makeup I used to complete the look of Fake Me; all sitting on my side table.

Surprisingly, they turned up the guilt by a few notches. The guilt for lying…the guilt for hiding…

I pressed my lips together to hold in a cry. Then, I finally looked in the mirror.

In front of me now stood an amazingly tall girl with long honey hair that curled in perfect spirals. The girl had a face that looked like it had been painted by an angel.

Perfection, some might call it.

Her body wasn't lumpy and unproportional like the last girl's. This new girl had killer curves, long legs and high, rounded breasts. The similarity between this girl and the last girl were the stormy grey eyes.

I felt my body shaking. I finally looked at the girl again. Stop calling yourself that, I thought. Say it. Say who that really is.

I felt my eyes fill, burn, again. I took in a long, shaky breath, unable to hold my tears any longer, and looked in the mirror again.

There stood Annabeth Chase.

There stood me.

So. How'd you like it? This fic will be less fluffy, more...well, just MORE.

Now; review, review, review!

I'll update faster since I really want you guys to understand this story before I launch into the real plot.

- S.