Shattered

Jason

Jason didn't want to be there, let alone dance.

The dancefloor was packed, the music was loud, and everyone seemed to be having a great time, but the son of Jupiter just sat at his assigned seat and tapped his feet to the beat. The dance had really only just started, meaning he had at least another three hours before the afterparty would start.

Whoop-de-freaking-do...

He glanced to the back of the room, where Percy and Nico were looking at the art class's display. When Nico glanced Jason's way, he felt a twinge of worry. He hadn't realized until that night that he had been using the exact same picture of himself and Piper for every single project, and it scared him. He still had nightmares about Disciplina, still feared that she would come for him when he was alone, still waited for some woman's eyes to flash gold before taking him away.

And yet, some part of him missed Piper, despite the goddess having taken her form.

Every time Coach Sonders had announced their next project, Jason had somehow pulled out the only picture he had left of him and the daughter of Aphrodite, completely forgetting that he had already used it before.

And nobody said anything. He sighed and took a sip from his punch. It was red, sweet, and cheap, something that Dakota probably would've enjoyed, but it cooled him down. Everyone just let me keep in doing it as to not upset me.

It was true that everyone was nice to him, Percy, and Nico, but that didn't mean there wasn't talk. Once in the bathroom he had overheard two guys talking about how fragile he and Percy looked; how he looked like he was always ready to bolt out of a room when a girl got within five feet of him. Another time, as he was entering the locker room after PE, he caught the end of a conversation discussing how long it would be before he snapped.

People were nice to him, but they didn't think highly of him.

And it hurt.

"Jason, are you okay?"

The son of Jupiter looked up and was greeted by a frowning Chelsea, clutching a pair of white flats in one hand.

He would be lying if he said his dungeon crawling and PVP companion didn't look beautiful tonight. The blonde had curled her hair, but kept it up in her usual ponytail, creating an interesting look. She had a small diamond stud in each ear, that glinted in the light of the chandeliers. She wore a simple, white slip that clung to her body in all the right way and exposed her tan, freckled shoulders, and dipped down enough to highlight her swanlike neck. Her opened toe heels showcased a fresh pedicure, each toenail trimmed and painted white to perfection. It was a complete one-eighty from her usual boots, jeans, and hand-me-down T-shirts from her older brothers.

"I'm fine," the son of Jupiter said, returning his gaze to his cousins. "What's with the shoes?"

"You're as bad a liar as your paladin is a healer," the girl said, taking her seat. "But I'm not going to pry." She bent down and loosened the straps on her shoes before kicking them off. "The shoes are because I'm not an idiot." Chelsea dropped the pair of flats to the floor and slid them on with a sigh of relief. "We all want to look good, but man do heels hurt after a bit. Most women just take them off and go barefoot, but by the end of the night their toes are all bruised and battered from their dates stomping on them. These-" she pointed to the white flats "-offer a little bit of protection."

"I take it Aaron has two left feet?" he asked, still watching Percy and Nico chat next to the table with his art.

"Ha!" Chelsea scoffed, slapping the table. "I won't see Aaron until it's time to leave, he saw that little rainbow sticker on the DJ's laptop and won't stop hitting on him until a restraining order is filed."