¹Pocket Full of Posies, p. jackson

vi. Third Time's (Not) the Charm

chapter six
❛ third time's the charm ❜

━━━━━  IF THERE WAS one thing Posie tried very hard not to be, it was angry. She had seen how anger changed her father, Beau. Bitter with how his life had turned out — cut off by his parents, who were upset that they had immigrated from the Philippines to the States to give him a better life, only for their son to pursue music (and fail miserably compared to his older sister); never once having his "big break" in music, playing small gigs in different bars around D.C.; meeting Apollo and then being "bestowed" with a child (that he never wished for) from the ever-elusive god (whom he believed to be a regular, mortal man). As she grew up with Beau, doing her best to avoid his easy-to-ignite fury, she could find moments where she saw that within herself — Posie absolutely despised that. To make matters worse, as she learned who her godly parent was, learning all the tales of him when his anger got the best of him — Posie could see where Apollo's anger rivaled (and easily bested) Beau's.

        It was a trait that Posie had inherited from both parents, making it all the more difficult not to let the anger consume her. (And unfortunately, the older Posie became, the more traits she could see in herself, straight from the Sun God.) That was why she went out of her way to be nice, even at times, she was obnoxiously kind. It came to a point that some believed she was so obviously kind that it must be some kind of façade — that she speaks ill of all the people she met, just behind their backs, to anyone who would listen. But that wasn't true — Posie genuinely was kind, even if she tried to swallow as much anger as she could, offsetting it with kindness. And some only believed her kindness was a front, but there were those who treated her with kindness back — the niceness she put out into the world had its benefits in the end.

        But that didn't mean there were never times when Posie could always swallow her anger. If anything, as she learned as time wore on, all the effort she put into shoving her anger back down — it would eventually boil over, one way or another. Be the event to cause her eruption of anger to be something as simple as Austin accidentally stepping on the back of her shoe, or be the event where two of her best friends suggest they leave behind Tyson on a burning ship, all because he was born a Cyclops rather than a demigod. Looking back at both situations, both vastly different from one another, there was one thing in common with them: Posie had been holding in frustration after frustration, and she let it all out, losing control of the proverbial floodgates to her anger. More importantly, she was completely and utterly ashamed of how she had acted in both situations, doing her best to make amends (even if that meant agreeing to do Austin's portion of chores for a week).

        Still, despite how much she cringed thinking back to those moments where she spewed hate-filled sentences, only to hurt others as much as she was, that didn't mean Posie had a grasp on her anger — yet, as it was a large work-in-progress. She didn't want to be angry, no matter how her parents acted, no matter how easy it was to fall into the trap of perpetual anger. And despite those moments in life where she vomited anger and hate, she spent the vast majority of her time doing the exact opposite — a level-headed voice of reason, even if she spent most of her time reasoning with others to avoid anything that seemed dangerous.

        That all being said, anger was pooling in Posie's stomach. No matter how much kindness she put out into the world, that didn't stop her from feeling irritation and betrayal. If it did, she would've stopped being angry about many things a long time ago — Beau's lack of care, Mrs. Hall's fate, the absence of Apollo, the treatment of demigods, her ... predicament with foresight and plagues. And to make matters worse, the anger boiling away in her stomach was feeding into frustration at her situation, being fueled by the knowledge of the fact that she had continued to be kept in the dark about something more. When it came to being angered, once the proverbial floodgates had been opened, it was hard to close them, only finding more and more reasons to be irritable — abhorring the cold, hating the fact she was continuing to wait for Apollo and for the sun, hating hearing Thalia incessantly moan and groan about the Hunters.