Percy Jackson Betrayal&Revenge (Discontinued Bcuz I Hate It)

My Mom showed me the middle finger

So, excuse my sorry butt as I try to teleport back home. Addie's literally laughing her head off because she says I look constipated. I'M SORRY, BUT IM DEFINITELY NOT FREAKING OUT. DEFINITELY NOT. 

I have been cursing multilingually for nearly ten minutes. I'm glad there are no children in this house, so there are no more people for me to corrupt. I miss Castor. The only child-like guy who I adore out of my wits. As I said, he has whitish-grey hair and purplish eyes. I don't think I said that tho...

Anyway, it's not liking we can ditch this mission. If we wanna stop Ouranos (jr.), we need to go to that damned strawberry farm. And btw, this ain't the real Ouranos, cuz that Ouranos was chopped up into sea foam and turned into Aphrodite, so yeah. Apparently, a miniature Ouranos was conceived a while before his death and was perfectly preserved and unknown to history. Like, everyone knows that some weird shit is happening, but how many drachmae would you bet that they would figure this out. It's so completely unexpected that there is an 0.1% chance that a prophecy would appear. I don't even think Gaea remembers she has a child who is the exact figure of his father. He is rumored to be more powerful and greater than any titan known to man (or demigods). But, then again, the rumors are only amongst my family and me, considering how no one knows about Ouranos jr. 

*sigh* this is going to be a hard-ass mission. The good thing is, all of us(my family) are more powerful than the Olympians. Silena, as a child of aphrodite, can charmspeak and manipulate better than her mother; other powers included. Ditto for others and their respective godly parents. I, Aria, and Alex (lukey boy, y'all really should try to remember who my brother is) are more powerful. Zoë, as a child of Atlas and Pleione, is equally powerful but very ignorant of her power. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that she chooses not to use them to their full extent, which is quite a pity, 'cause she can be terrifying when she wants to. Lee, on the other hand, has power; on a scale of 1 to 10, he will be classified as a...5? Most of the time he shuns himself from society and refuses to come with us on our various missions, so it's quite difficult to understand his power's power. With his apollo genes and Chaos competence, he is surely a powerful being, but weak as he does not practice. 

He's a very confusing boy. 

My sister handed me a cup of hot chocolate, which I slurped on noisily. Had I been at home, I would be earned myself a great deal of creepy disapproving stares from half our home's population, dad included. But, we have our own apartment now, and the entire floor to ourselves. I'm no architect, so I might struggle in describing the house/building structure. It's sort of a loft really. Our sponsors donated them to us since our home is very far from all the soccer destinations. We aren't on a tour right now, so it's convenient. New Yorkers are quite nosy sometimes, trailing behind me trying to get a profitable photo of us; trying to catch a word of what we're saying, which is very stalker-like but expected from the paparazzi. I'm not saying I'm hating all the attention, but I'd like a little privacy, please.

Anyway, the apartment is located near times square and each floor has a separate apartment/loft. It's a very considerably tall building and slightly fat in some aspects. There are five bedrooms, beautifully refurbished and designed, super cozy; three bathrooms, two in two of the bedrooms; a very casual and big living room, not very big but big enough to suit our needs; and a medium-sized kitchen. Our pantry and kitchen are one, which is cool. I could sneak in the kitchen and if anyone asks, I could say I was reloading the shelves or filling out the nearly empty spice bottles when really I'm pigging out on the pop tarts or the leftover cookies.

$$$$$$

I swear I have never earned much less sleep than I did yesterday night. I tossed and turned, unaccustomed to my new surroundings, which was weird cuz I felt right at home when I moved into the place we left a long while ago. 

I awoke with bags underneath my eyes and tired pink eyes. And I'm not kidding. My hair was a brilliant pastel green and my eyes were light pink, the way they are when I'm super tired, like after a hard-core football session or an intense study session. I was wearing a purple shirt today, and I was feeling slightly nostalgic added to my tiredness. I grabbed a gold paint marker and took off my shirt, beginning to work on the intricate details of the SPQR logo. Thankfully, I still remembered how it looked. I drew the braid design and then inside, I outlined the letters, filling it in after success. I wrote camp Jupiter on top, and it was finally perfect. I found two wooden pegs and clipped my shirt to the balcony to dry in the face of apollo (sun I mean), and I hoped no seagull or pigeon would poop on my beautiful purple shirt. it was a lot brighter than the original uniform, but it was somewhat similar. I stood, shirtless as I stared outside at the blue sky that id missed for so long. 

Cars zoomed along, with the occasional motorbike or buggy car going at high speed. The traffic lights switched from red to green, and all hell broke loose as the impatient drivers fought to get to their destination. A couple of them nearly hit a stupid pedestrian who decided now was a good time to cross the road when the drivers were driving so goddamn hastily. One even accidentally drove into a ditch as he struggled to avoid hitting a pedestrian. hmm...seems familiar. The driver got out and I saw that it was not a he, but a she. she looked like a middle-aged woman with dark hair, and a few visible greys. it was when she turned that I gasped, and pressed myself to the wall.

that was my mom. she looked exactly how she was when I left her.

I peeked outside and saw my stepfather stepping out as well. they examined the dent and were suddenly arguing with each other. ah, the forces of chaos have come together. I watched, amused, as they yelled at each other, with colorful language popping in between. to the left, I saw a woman keeping her hands over her 9-year old child's ears as she glared at the bickering couple. 

suddenly she (mom) turned towards me, and the smile slipped off my face as she took in my appearance. then she did something unexpected; she showed me the middle finger and went back to yelling at paul.

I burst out laughing, and I hugged my naked torso and leaned against the wall as I struggled to breathe again. practically all the pedestrians were staring at me. I ran my hands through my silky blue hair and tried to hold myself together. when I did, I shook my head and smiled, then grabbed my dried newly-made SPQR shirt. Pulling it over my shirt, I sat on the railing and continued to watch them. My mom, enraged, with no sign of recognition that I was her disowned son, opened the door of her car and slammed it shut. Paul followed suit. 

Yeah, I was disowned. By both my parents, so I'm practically an orphan whose parents are alive.

Sadly, I didn't get to see my sister, Estelle. I know it might sound sort of stalkerish, but I'm planning on going to the daycare she goes to, since my mom's practically a full-time writer and journalist as well, and is hardly at home.

I really wanna see her. I wanted to play with her and feed her blue cookies and pancakes. I wanted to buy her candy and starbursts. I wanted to go shopping with their and for her. I wanted to hold her tiny hand and lead her towards the playground or anywhere at all. I wanna do so many things a big brother would want to do with his little sister (stop thinking corrupt you evil dirty-minded peasant). I mean, sure, I have Bianca, but she's different. I know B already. I don't know Estelle. I haven't even figured out a nickname for her. 

And Addie is older than me, even if she looks my age and is my age right now. I might or might not have mentioned this, but we're immortal, and Addie is a few decades older than me, born in 1962. She died too, was a normal person before getting summoned to our haven of paradise. Apparently, Brian Miller was actually her best friend in the 1970s but his name was Tristan Wood? It's a confusing idea, but you gotta admit it sounds convincing. He tricked her (he must be stupidly smart and terribly lucky to have gotten away with that) on her birthday and drove her off a cliff(realize my name now?), before cleverly jumping out, leaving my sister to die. 

I hate him. He's ruined a lot of lives. With different names, no less. 

He's an ass-hole, or an arse-hole, like Addie, would say.