Born to Die (Percy Jackson x reader)

5⭒ The Lightning Thief

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They stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS. Underneath, stencilled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS, NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Percy nervously grabbed the pearls from his pocket, gazing at them. After a deep swallow, he carefully placed them back. Y/N caught sight of his trembling hand and instinctively laced her fingers with his.

"We're gonna get your mom back, Percy," she said with reassuring smile. He tried to smile back, and with a pink face he nodded.

They walked inside the DOA lobby.

Muzak played softly. The carpet and walls were steel grey. Pencil cacti grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him. He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-coloured skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

"Your name is Chiron?" Percy asked him.

He leaned across the desk. You couldn't see anything in his glasses except your own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a python's, right before it eats you.

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent - British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir."

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON!"

"Charon." Y/N felt Percy's hand turn a little sweaty.

"Amazing! Now: Mr Charon."

"Mr Charon," Percy said.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

Percy looked at Y/N.

"Uh.. Can you take us to the underworld, please?" she asked.

Charon scoffed. "Well, that's refreshing."

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No "Mr Charon, there must be a mistake!" He looked them over. "How did you die, then?"

"Um... drowned... in the bathtub," Grover said from behind her.

"All three of you?" Charon asked.

They nodded. "Big bathtub," Annabeth told him.

Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins. Percy set three golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash he'd found in Crusty's office desk.

'Well, now..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..." His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.