Disclaimer: There once was a man named Rick. The book he wrote was a hit. But, alas, his ownership was strict. As shocking as Clarisse's Maimer, we still have to write a disclaimer; to those who may be blind, are you out of your mind? So, bottom line: Percy loves blue and Annabeth loves gray. Rick Riordan owns them, and that's all I can say.

Disclaimer written by Amy's Mischievous Little Owl, DreamingOnMarshMellows73, and Mighty Ruler of Gummi Bears!


"Alright, let's move on to square roots. What is the square root of eighteen?"

I scrunched my eyebrows, trying to figure out the equation. We were currently in Annabeth's bedroom, and I got to say, her house was much larger compared to my small apartment. She has maids who actually work for her! I envy her for living in a big house. I've always dreamt of living in an actual real house, but that'll never happen. Unless Gabe gets off of his lazy bum, and actually try and get a job...

Yup, I am never going to live in a real house.

I try to solve the problem, but whenever I look at Annabeth, all I see is the girl who had given up on me already. I still haven't confessed to her that I saw her complaining to Mrs. Dodd's the other day, and I wasn't planning to.

I try to push the vivid picture out of mind, and try to concentrate on the card Annabeth was holding up in front of my face.

"Um, is it one hundred and forty two?" I guessed.

Annabeth sighed, shaking her head. She turned the card over, revealing the answer. "No Percy, it is three hundred and twenty four."

"Well, how was I supposed to know the answer from the top of my head?" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up.

"That's why you have to memorize it." Annabeth explained, grabbing another card from her stack. "Once you've memorized it, you would know it by a snap of a finger." Her eyes scanned at the card for a moment, before she revealed the equation once again. "Oh this is easy! What is the square root of twenty?"

"Err," I racked my brain to try to remember what the answer to the equation was. My eyes lit up, knowing that I will get this one right. "Ooh, is it two hundred and eighty seven?

Annabeth stared at me for a moment, and a muscle twitched on the bottom of her cheek. "No, Percy," she says slowly. "The correct answer is clearly four hundred!"

"Clearly?" I say, my eyes switching to the card and back to her in an instant. "How? The answer is two hundred and eighty seven! It has to be!" I run my fingers through my hair in exasperation.

"I think you might need to study tonight," Annabeth says, placing the card down. She grabbed the stack of cards, and carefully, ever so precisely, she placed them in the cardboard box.

"Uh, excuse me?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "I don't study."

"No wonder you are failing math," Annabeth says, shaking her head. She stood up, and placed the flashcards on her nightstand. She turned to face me, and she caught me staring at her. "What?" she asked. "Do I have something on my face?" Her hand immediately flew up, and she patted around her mouth, searching for any crumbs.

"No, no," I laughed. "There is nothing on your face; absolutely nothing."

Annabeth sighed in relief. "Thank the gods-"

"But your face is slightly pink," I smirked in triumph.

She glared at me. "Get out Jackson."

I chuckled, getting up from the floor. I swung my backpack over my shoulder, and I turned around. I started to exit her room, when a sudden thought struck me. "Oh, and Annabeth?"

"Yes?" Annabeth questioned, her arms crossed over her chest, wondering what I was going to say.

"Thank you for not giving up on me." I smiled, before turning around once again, and leaving a shocked Annabeth behind.

When I entered the front door of the apartment, I walked into the living room to watch some television. But someone already beat me to it.

"You are already home, punk?" Gabe growled, grabbing the remote from beside him and shutting the television off. He was sitting on the couch, and there was a bottle of beer sitting a few feet away from him.

I hate it when he becomes drunk. "Where is my mother?" I demanded, ignoring his question.

He squint his eyes at me, as if I had just insulted him. "How the hell would I know? Maybe she is in the kitchen. And if you see her punk, tell her to make me some lasagna or else she'll get this." He raised his hand up, smirking.

Anger swelled in my stomach, and I gritted my teeth, trying to stay calm. As I stomped past him, I spotted his bottle of beer. Before I could think of the consequences, I grabbed the bottle of beer and smashed it to the floor. Shards of glass flew everywhere. A few targeted at me, and I felt a bead of blood running down my cheek, but I didn't care.

That smirk that Gabe had on his face a moment ago disappeared in an instant. Good, at least I wiped that smirk off of his ugly face, I thought triumphantly. "You should stop drinking," I told him, a huge smile crawling up to my face.

"You- you little..." Gabe struggled to get up from the couch. It took him a few moments, but now he was facing me, and his face was purple due to his rage. "You good of a nothing punk!" he roared. He grabbed me by the hem of my shirt, lifting me up a few feet off the ground. I struggled against his strong grip, but it was no use. He slammed me into the wall, and I moaned in pain.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, but his fist came straight at me, and it made contact with my cheek. Pain flared from my cheek, and I winced, as blood gushed from the deep purple bruise, and it ran down my cheek, dripping onto the floor.

I heard footsteps padding into the living room, and a gasp filled the room.

"Gabe Ugliano, put him down this instant!" My mother shouted, anger flashing constantly in her voice.

Gabe grunted, "No, I think he still deserves more punishment." He grabbed my hair and pulled it, making me scream in pain. Gabe laughed, pushing me up against the wall once more. I squinted, just as stars started to fill my vision.

"Gabe, I said let go of him!" My mother yelled once more, and Gabe finally obeyed her.

"Alright then," he growls, letting go of me. I fell to the ground, and I curled up against the wall, closing my eyes. I wanted to hurt Gabe so much, but in this state that I am in, I wouldn't be able to win. I couldn't bear the pain though, it hurt so much... I heard him waddle away, his footsteps fading, until it was eerie silence.

Then I felt someone running their hand through my hair. "Perseus?" my mother whispered. "Are you okay?"

I lifted my head, and my eyes met my mother's concerned ones. I shook my head slowly, wincing. "Oh dear," my mother whispered, her thumb running across my cheek. "Come on, let's get you to your bedroom."

After a few minutes of difficult walking, with the help of my mother, I finally found myself in my bedroom. My mother led me to my bed, and she made me lay down there. "I'll be right back," she whispers, before exiting my room quietly.

I moaned, my hand resting protectively on my cheek. As soon as my hand was contacted with my cheek, I winced, squeezing my eyes tightly until I see stars dancing around in my vision. My back started to ache, and I hear pounding coming within my ears. I was terrified of what I was going to see myself in the mirror, but I knew I had to examine my bruise.

I began to get up from the bed, but right then and there, my mother entered my bedroom with a first aid bag clutched tightly in her right hand. She didn't notice what position I was in, but I immediately lie back down once again. She placed the red bag down on the nightstand, before zipping the bag open, and searching drastically for some cream. "Where is it?" she muttered, pushing past a box of Band-Aids. Her eyes lit up, as she found what she was looking for.

She grabbed something deep within into the bag, and she pulled it out. It was ointment. She twisted the cap, and it popped open instantly. She dug her fingers inside, and when she brought her finger out again, it was coated in a white cream.

She then started to apply it onto my cheek, and pain flared from my bruise once again. My mother saw me wince slightly, and she looked really upset. It might not show it on her face, but I could see it in her eyes. "Oh Percy," she whispers, a tear running down her cheek. "Why did you have to go and get yourself in trouble from Gabe?"

"I had to. H-He was d-drunk." I mumbled, my voice cracking. There was silence for a moment, before I spoke again. "Mom,"


"Why don't you ever kick him out?"

Right then and there, I wished I never had asked her that question. Tears filled her eyes, and it was threatening to spill over her cheeks. "Oh sweetie..." she says, applying more cream to my cheek, "I am trying my best, but-"

"Is he threatening you?" I asked, as my anger started bubbling in my stomach once again.

My mother's eyes widened, as she realized what I just said. "No! It's not that, I promise you."

I let out a breath of relief, as all my anger that was there a minute ago extinguished instantly. "Thank the gods," I breathed out. My mother was finished applying ointment onto my cheek, and she twisted the cap to a close, before placing the cream back inside the first aid bag. "But, mom, why didn't you kick him out yet?"

She was silent for some time. I watched intently as she took out a bottle of aspirin. She twisted the cap and it opened with a loud pop. She turned it over, and spilled the contents out in her palm. She only grabbed two pills, but the rest she put it back inside the bottle. She walked out of the room, and then she returned with a glass of water clutching in her right hand; the other holding the pills. She handed me the glass and the two pills, motioning me to take it.

After I finished taking my pills, I handed the glass back to my mother. I saw her placing it down on my nightstand, before she took a seat right next to me on the bed. I thought she didn't hear what I had asked her, and I was about to repeat the question, but then she finally said, "It's difficult, Perseus." I winced, hearing her speak my full name. She didn't notice, though. She was gazing out the window, where the curtains were pulled back, and letting sunlight spill into the room. "I want to kick him out so bad, and I know you want the same thing. But it's not the right time. Sometimes you have to wait and see where God will take you. It might be for the best or for the worst. But you know what, Perseus? I think it will be for the best. I think something great will happen, and that man will leave us forever. I promise."

I opened my mouth to clarify something, but my mother shook her head, her curly brown hair falling onto her face. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes, and tucked it behind her ears firmly. "You need to sleep," she says. A faint smile lingered on her face for a moment or two, before it disappeared. "Goodnight Perseus." Before I could oblige, my mother stood up from the bed. She stride towards the window, and closed the curtains, so no light can escape into the room. I watched her as she started to walk out, before turning around once again. "I love you."

"I love you too," I mumbled, the words tumbling out of my mouth. She smiled before shutting the door to a close, and leaving me in the darkness.

I turned around in the bed, and I snuggled deep into the covers, before a horrific thought entered my mind.

How am I going to explain the bruise on my cheek to my friends tomorrow?

I entered the doors of Goode High, and for the first time in my
life, I was shy.

Yes, it's true. This morning when I had gotten out of bed, I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought I was going to throw up. My bruise was even bigger (if that's even possible), and my cheek was still the color purple. I touched it with caution, and immediately, I took my hand away from it. I felt like fire was burning into my cheek, and for the rest of the morning, I didn't touch my cheek at all. But I did remember when I saw Gabe grinning from one ear to the other, and I had gritted my teeth, holding my anger in, and not letting it out like yesterday.

I could feel eyes boring in the back of my head, and I stared down at the ground, trying really hard to not look at anyone. Whispers from the peers surrounded me like a storm, and I didn't even have to force my way through everyone to get to my class like I usually do.

Everyone moved out of the way as I walked down the hall. I hated the feeling, as if everyone was terrified of me. But they couldn't be. I didn't do anything wrong. But then I realized something a moment too soon. They weren't terrified of me. They were laughing.

"Hey Jackson!"

I turned my head towards the voice of the owner, but it was my first mistake of the day. "Did little Perseus got beaten up?" Luke Castellan taunted. My fists were clenched tightly when I realized who it was.

Luke Castellan has a reputation. He is the bad boy, as everyone calls him. He loves getting in trouble from the teacher, and you don't want to ever be on his bad side. Luke and I hated each other from the start. When I first entered this school for the first time, I had started to become friends with Grover Underwood. Luke had sensed that I would be wonderful if I joined his gang, and he asked me to ditch Grover. Of course, I had said no and I refused to join his little gang.

Ever since then, we try to make each other lives miserable.

Suddenly, something struck me emotionally. "How do you know my full name?" I asked suspiciously, my eyes narrowed in tiny slits.

His two members of his gang, Octavian and Ethan Nakamura laughed. "You seriously don't know?" Luke asked incredulously, but a smile was climbing onto his face in triumph.

I gave him a confused look, which made his smile grew even bigger. "What are you talking about?"

"You hear that guys; Perseus doesn't even know!" Luke howled with laughter, and his two friends followed in pursuit.

"Seriously dude, stop playing games with me and tell me how do you know my full name?" I demanded, taking a step towards him.

Luke smirked, and he tossed the school's newspaper towards me. I raised my eyebrows in wonder, just as I caught the newspaper. "Page six; third paragraph," Luke says nonchalantly, examining his nails. I flipped to page six, and I found the third paragraph. I scanned through it, but I couldn't make out the words. It was mostly because of how I am dyslexic. I squint my eyes, trying to stop the letters dancing across the page. I tried to read the first sentence, trying to untangle them, but it was no use.

"Oh, did I forget?" Luke chuckled, "You have dyslexia! Of course you can't read!" Octavian and Ethan snickered, as my face reddened in embarrassment. Luke snatched the newspaper away from me, and shouted over the noise of the students, "HEY EVERYONE! LISTEN TO THIS!"

Everyone immediately got quiet, curious of what Luke has to say.

He smirked at me, and I could feel anger tightening in a knot in the pit of my stomach. Luke opened his mouth and read:

As we all know, Percy Jackson is the boy who gets all the girls and break their hearts within a week.

All the girls with broken hearts hated him ever since he dumped them for another girl, but do they know that he has a secret?

Recently, students have been hearing rumors that Percy isn't his real name.

We-Edna Johnson and I-decided that we would do a little bit of researching of the boy who broken innocent girls hearts for no reason.

And what we've found is the truth.

His name is truly not Percy Jackson.

His name is Perseus Jackson.

But, we all know he must be named from one of the old Greek Myths, Perseus.

And we all knew how he had died.

Perseus had died when he was being held captivity.

And so, in conclusion, I wonder if maybe the same fate will go to Percy Jackson for breaking all the girls' hearts.

Until next time, the Girl with Red Hair, signs out!

Luke finally finished reading the paragraph, and silence hung in the air for a moment or two. Then laughter erupted all around me. A few students were pointing at me and laughing, while a few of the girls I had dated before, smirked at me in triumph. Everyone was crowding around Luke and I, and Luke tossed the newspaper at me once again. The newspaper slammed against my forehead, but I didn't even recognize what he had done.

Only one thing was running through my mind over and over again.

Who knows my real name?


I whirled around; about to plummet the guy, when I realized the owner of the voice hadn't call me by my real name. I let out a sigh of relief when I finally saw a familiar face for the first time that day. "Grover, you frightened me there for a minute." I half smiled.

But Grover didn't return the smile. "What happened to your face? It looks like you've got beaten up or something. Luke kept on spreading rumors that you were beaten up by some young children, but I knew better. And what is this talk about how your real name isn't Percy-"

He kept on blabbing on, and I waited patiently for him to stop. After a few minutes, he was out of breath, and he had to force himself to stop asking me numerous questions. Once he has finally gotten some air into his lungs, I started to speak. "Alright, first, I did not get in a fight Grover." I lied. Last night, I decided to make up an excuse that if any of my friends asked me what happened to my cheek, I wouldn't had to make up one right then and there. Plus- it wouldn't sound realistic if I had gone through that path. "A dog was chasing me and I crashed into a pole." I explained.

Yeah- this lie sounded much better in my head than actually speaking it out loud. Grover narrowed his eyes at me for a moment, and for a fleeting moment, I thought he didn't bought it. But then Grover nodded and said, "Oh, I am sorry about your cheek."

I shrugged, but on the inside I was relieved. Thank god he didn't saw through my lie. I knew he was smart, but I guess my lie was much more realistic than I thought it would've been.

"And what about that rumor everyone is talking about?" Grover questioned, raising an eyebrow.

I hesitated. "Have you been reading the schools newspaper lately?"

"No..." Grover says slowly. "I don't believe in the stuff they've written on there. It's all a lie."

"Actually..." I fished out the newspaper out of the back pocket of my jeans. That was the exact same newspaper Luke had threw at me. I flipped to page six, and I pointed at the third paragraph. Grover flashed me another weird look, before taking the newspaper away from me. His eyes ran across the page, just as he started to read. He had to stop sometimes, and comprehend the word thoroughly, because that's how Grover is.

Once he was done, he looked up at me. He didn't say a single word, but then he burst out laughing.

"What?" I demanded, feeling slightly angry of his reaction. I thought he would've given me sympathy, like he would usually do. But this was new.

"You actually believe in that stuff!" Grover snickered, handing the newspaper back to me. "I told you before, and I am going to tell you again, the information this 'girl with red hair' wrote is fake!"

"And that's the funny part." I tugged at my jacket nervously.

Grover immediately stopped laughing. "What do you mean? It isn't true, right? Please tell me it isn't true,"

"I wish," I sighed, "But it's true. My real name is Perseus."

Grover stared. I waited for him to let everything sink in slowly, but he just gave that blank look.

"Uh, dude?" I waved a hand in front of his face.


"Do you need to go the nurse?"

No response.


Absolutely nothing.


He seem to come back to normal, once I've shouted into his ear. He rubbed his ear, wincing slightly, but he was still staring at me. "Y-Your real name is Perseus?"

"I think we've gone over that subject of matter by now," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Dude, listen, please don't make fun of me. Everyone was laughing at me and it was horrible. Thanks to Luke, who had shouted on the top of his lungs to get everyone's attention."

Grover sent me a sad smile in my direction. "I won't laugh at you. We are practically brothers, why would I make fun of you? I am not like other kids." Grover assured me. I opened my mouth to thank him, when he stopped me. "And it's not true about how the Perseus in the old Greek Myths died being held in captivity."

"It isn't?"

Grover laughed. "Of course not, that was just historical information."

"But isn't historical information um... historical?" I asked confusedly.

"Some historical information isn't true. Where do you think the author who wrote it probably got the information from?"

"Um... Google?"

Grover shook his head, muttering something underneath his breath. "Percy, anyone could've gotten the information from Google! But what I am saying is that the author most likely got it from Wikipedia."

"How would you know?" I inquired.

Grover blushed a little. "Remember that time in Greek Mythology last year we were given homework to use our minds to figure out one of the famous people in olden times?" I nodded slowly, remembering how I just copied stuff from the internet. "I got stuck on one of the historical people, Perseus, and I.. was searching online to give me any heads up or information."

I chuckled. "Did Grover Underwood actually cheated?"

"Shut up!" he hissed, smacking me on the arm, as I laughed, "Anyway, I went on Wikipedia, even though I knew there was going to be rubbish information on there. And then I scrolled through it, reading when Perseus was born and all the way to when he died."

"That must've been a long biography," I say, staring at him in amazement. Grover nodded, agreeing with me.

"But there is one thing I don't understand..." Grover says, tapping his chin in wonder. "How did the author found out what your real name was?"

I shrugged, having no clue. "You saw what they had written. They did a little bit of researching on me." I glanced at the clock, and I realized we have two minutes before the bell rang. We both started walking towards third period, knowing if we don't start walking soon, we are going to get tardy for our next class.

"Yeah, but-" Grover's eyes widened.

"What? What is it?" I asked hurriedly, confused by the change of mood crossing onto his face.

"Percy, have you told anyone about your real name?"

I thought for a moment, before shaking my head. The only person who knew my real name was my mother and... a sudden thought struck me. I had also told Calypso, my first love. She was a wonderful girl, and she was beautiful and so gorgeous. She was nice and she had a beautiful laugh, but I remembered that day when I had received a call from her parents. I remembered how they explained to me (while crying terribly) how she had died in the car crash, and how my heart nearly broke.

And that's how I had started to date other girls and break their hearts, to relieve all the pain I've been holding for about two years now.

"Are you sure?" Grover asked carefully, watching me closely for any sign of anything to flash across my face. But I kept my expression plain, hiding all the deep emotions within me.

"Um, yeah. I am sure. Why do you ask?"

Grover was still watching me, but he finally shook his head slightly, muttering something in a very low voice I couldn't hear. But when he saw me staring, he stopped abruptly, before saying in a louder voice, "It's nothing. Come on; let's get to class before we get tardy."

I raised an eyebrow at Grover in confusion, wondering why he changed his mood so suddenly, but he was avoiding my gaze.

He hobbled down the empty hallway, using his crutches to help himself, and I had no choice but to follow.

I wasn't expecting myself to finally update after about two months.

The last time I had updated, I expected myself to update in a few days, but I just got busy, and unfortunately, I had writer's block for this story. I felt like a really horrible author, and I am so sorry. But I hope this exceptionally long chapter will make up for the two months disappearance.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I had enjoyed typing it up.