Guardian of the Hunt (Percy Jackson Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

Percy POV

So far the party has been pretty good. Artemis, the hunters and I sat at a table while everyone was dancing. To be honest, the Romans party house reminded me of an expensive club. Dionysus was at the bar handing out drinks while getting a bit tipsy himself. The stereo was cranked up to the max. Apparently Apollo had an event planned on the stage that was in front of us. Throom darkened and everyone stopped dancing. I looked at Artemis in confusion. She smiled at me and gestured toward the stage. Apollo stood out with a microphone in his hands. The romans and Greeks cheered when he walked on the stage.

"Demi-gods and gods. Today we are gonna have some major karaoke!" I chuckled as everyone cheered. I saw Annabeth in the crowd. She looked depressed. I shrugged. Apparently I missed something because Apollo called my name.

"Percy, get up here, me, you and your brother Triton are gonna start this off." I blushed and the campers and hunters

cheered. Thalia and Artemis pushed me up there. Apollo and my brother were grinning like madmen. They tossed me a microphone. The music began and I automatically knew what the song was. I chuckled and brought the Mic up to my lips.

Percy Apollo, Triton All: Fort Minor Remember the name

You ready? Let's go!

Yeah, for those of you that want to know what we're all about

It's like this y'all (c'mon!)

[Chorus:]

This is ten percent luck,

twenty percent skill

Fifteen percent concentrated power of will

Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain

And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!

Mike! - He doesn't need his name up in lights

He just wants to be heard whether it's the beat or the mic

He feels so unlike everybody else, alone

In spite of the fact that some people still think that they

know him

But fuck em, he knows the code

It's not about the salary

It's all about reality and making some noise

Making the story - making sure his clique stays up

That means when he puts it down Tak's picking it up! Let's go!

Who the hell is he anyway? He never really talks much

Never concerned with status but still leaving them star struck

Humbled through

opportunities given despite the fact

That many misjudge him because he makes a living from writing raps

Put it together himself, now the picture connects

Never asking for someone's help, or to get some respect

He's only focused on what he wrote, his will is beyond reach

And now it all unfolds, the skill of an artist

This is twenty percent skill