Moondust

Chapter eleven

31st of July

“Look, Dad, just pay your half of her bills. I’ll visit her next week. She doesn’t need to know you more than that.” Nico said angrily.

Hazel had gotten worse last night. Apollo told him that there would be another surgery. And another. There would be new treatments, new doctors…

And his father expected him to pay for 80 percent of it.

“Son, why are you always this stubborn?” Hades di Angelo sighed. Nico gritted his teeth. “I am not dipping into my trust fund, Dad. Look where it’s got me. Still paying you off.” He growled out. Hades persisted.
“You know, if you’d just listened to me —“

“No! You’ve made your point, dad, but you were the one that brought this upon us in the first place, you—“ Nico slumped against the park bench as he waited for Piper to finish her break.

“I’ll call you back later if there’s any change, dad. Or ask Marie. She’s with her daughter, like any good, decent parent would. Goodbye.” He hung up before Hades could say another word, tempted to block the guy from his contacts. Again. If Nico had to listen to one more word that came out of the manure heap his father called a mouth, he’d just throw his phone in the Hudson and be done with it. He threw his arm over his eyes, blocking out the sunlight.

“Aren’t you going to offer me a seat?” Nico uncovered his eyes, startled. It was the woman from the dance studio, the one who barked orders and advice at Jason and Will. Calliope, they called her. Madame Calliope.

He sprung up and gave her his seat, and she took it, her posture stiff and upright. Not like Will. He slouched, forwards and backwards, left and right, in all directions like a bloody octopus. It was strangely endearing, like so many of the things he did.

“I’d like to ask you a favor.” Nico blinked a bit. “A-a favor, Miss?” he stuttered. She nodded.

“Two favors, actually. First,” She nodded at the violin next to her. “Can you play?”

That was unexpected. Nico looked around, scanning the crowd for Piper. She was nowhere to be found. He hesitated a bit, then picked up the violin and the bow. Might as well make a few extra tips.

He raised the bow and started to play his frustration, one chord melding seamlessly with the other, the tempo making sharp turns and corners, messy and wild. He kept playing, the bow sweeping over the strings, dragging the melody out of the strings, something that only happened when he was in a bad mood, as if even the song wanted to steer clear of his temper.

The revelation made him hesitate, and he dropped the bow, cutting the song off abruptly. Calliope raised an eyebrow, her expression one of quiet amusement.

“Well, either you’re extremely annoyed at me for interrupting your nap, or you’re frustrated at something. I sincerely hope it isn’t the first, because that would be a bit counterproductive to my second favor.” Nico shook his head, a little daunted. “Not at all. What is it?”

Calliope sighed. “You have talent, no question, as well as endurance. You spend all day here with your friend, playing for those who just listen, never appreciate.”

Nico lowered his head. “So, what is it you want with me?”

“To cut you a deal.” Nico looked up, surprised. Calliope’s expression had hardened, her eyes of steel.