54A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to update, I'v been busy studying. Summer break is less than two weeks away! :) Thank you guys so much for your support. Your reviews, follows, favorites and views mean a lot!
CHAPTER 5;
PERCY'S POV:
"No, no, no and NO! Percy, that has got to be the most ridiculous idea EVER!"
I am currently in the middle of a conversation-scratch that, an argument-with my best friend.
"Come on!" I pleaded. "Grover, even you have to admit that it's creative."
Grover has been my best friend for five years, since we were twelve. I can be a little stupid and unpredictable, whilst Grover is the more mature one.
"Creative, maybe. Possible, no! Dancing in the middle of the street without getting arrested was tricky enough. Your so called plan on the other hand...No, it's just too crazy."
"But that's just what we need! Our first mob was good, and it got us a few views. So what? We need something bigger, something unexpected, and if were gonna do it, we gotta do it NOW."
I'm putting my foot down. I'm pretty stubborn when I want to. Sensing this, Grover lets go of an exasperated sigh.
"Fine. We'll vote."
He turns to address the rest of the group. There are about fifty of us in total, but only a dozen or so of us are present. There's Piper, Leo, Travis, Jason, Katie, Conner, Hazel, Frank, Will, Nyssa, Clarisse and Chris, plus myself and Grover.
"Allrighty, then. Who thinks that Percy's idea is too over the top?"
A few hands went up.
"Okay. Four are against it. Who's in?"
Everybody else's hands flew up, creating a majority. I can't help the smirk that's forming on my lips.
"Too bad, G-man. Looks like that's our next mob!"
The small room erupts into cheers. Even Grover starts to smile.
"Should we start choreographing?" Piper asks me.
"Sure. You start rounding up all of the ladies and I'll take the gents."
She smiles.
"You got it Captain."
It's a little inside joke we have going on. Since I was the one who founded Pulse and I love the ocean and ships as much as I love dance, they decided to start calling me Captain. It was a little annoying at the time, but the name just stuck. It grew on me.
"Contemporary?"
"You got it. Also try to incorporate a little bit of hip hop, too. Okay guys, I'll start working on some moves while you guys spread the word. Sound good?"
Nods and "yups" follow my orders, and soon I'm left alone in our studio. Well, I shouldn't say studio. It's more like an abandoned warehouse, situated under
Argo's Bar and Pizza Parlor. Not very glamorous, but the restaurant is a great hangout spot. Besides, we jacked it up a bit to make it feel more like home. A few
polkadot bean bag chairs, a beat up TV set placed atop a round coffee table, paper lanterns and christmas lights hanging around the ceiling's support beams and
the piece de resistance, a hot pink mini fridge with sky blue tiger stripes. Sexy, I know. And manly. The owner, Mr. C. Brunner (Brun for short), lets us rent out
the place for free since he never uses it, plus he and my dad used to be childhood friends from elementary through college. I live only with my mom, Sally
Jackson, since my dad left us when I was two. Mom describes him as a good man, but I can't see how anyone good would leave a woman and her child,
struggling to pay bills, without so much as a goodbye note. I glance at one of the many dusty, cracked mirrors, that must've been forgotten there for decades,
and analyze my features. I'm not in love with myself, trust me. I just want to see if I look any different. Mop of dark hair? Check. Defined chin and jawline?
Check. Eyes? Same. Mom says I inherited my "good looks" from my father. I hate that. I don't want to look like some jerk who left the amazing person that is
my mother for some ditzy twenty year old with curves and nothing else. I sigh, my ADHD acting up again. I turn my attention back to the task at hand. I pull
my iPod out of my pants pocket and shuffle aimlessly through my song selection, stopping when I land on David Guetta's Titanium. Catchy, good for HH (Hip Hop)
and Break, (Breakdancing). Not the greatest for Temp. (Contemporary) though. I keep flipping through my playlist and find some good songs from Alicia Keys.
Definitely possibilities. I'll ask Freddy to mash and remix them up later. I start to practice some dance moves that could be put in the choreography. Drop, kick out
and swivel, up, pump hands up and down by my sides while twisting, one handstand, jump, wave, heel toe, moonwalk and on I go. Fifteen to twenty minutes
later I'm grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, along with a cold piece of pepperoni pizza, fresh from Argo's. After already chugging down almost half of my
water, my mouth ends three inches away to take a bite of my snack when I hear knocking. Two slow ones, then three fast ones. A pause. One-two three-four
five-six then a loud thump on seven. It's our secret knock that we made, inspired by the Cup Song, so we would know if the person coming in was one of us.
"Come in!"
The old metal door grinds open slowly, making an awful screeching noise. Even though I'm used to it, I cringe anyways. I get up and make my way over where a figure stood. As I get closer, I notice that it's a boy, with shaggy, long dark hair, black eyes and a pale face. He's wearing a black aviator jacket, worn out dark wash skinny jeans and black converses. I grin.
"Nico! What up my dead man?"
He gives a feeble smile in return. He looks nervous, not really making eye contact and fidgeting with his silver skull ring.
"Yeah, uh, Percy? I need to talk to you."
I frown. This doesn't sound good.
"What is it?"
"Your not gonna like this, but...I sorta kinda told somebody about us."
I can practically feel my eyeballs coming out of their sockets. Telling somebody about our flashmob group is a joint decision. We can't let our members just walk around the city blabbing about what were doing. The dancers we choose are handpicked, and even if they're great dancers, if they make any of us feel uncomfortable or we distrust them, they're gone. I can't believe Nico, of all people, would just tell somebody on the spot without asking! He's also one of my best friends and he's been around here longer then a lot of us, so he should know better!
"What?! Nico, you know the rules! We can't just hire whoever we want off the streets!"
He flinches, guilt washed over his features. I feel bad for yelling at him, but somebody's got to lay down the law.
"I know, I should've gotten you and the other's approval first, but believe me, she's an amazing dancer and she insisted that I take her here."
My eyebrow shoots up. Since when does Nico talk to girls who aren't a part of Pulse?
"She? Who is she?"
A small blush starts to creep up his neck.
"Um, yeah, her-"
He's interrupted when another figure appears from outside. Since the sun is peeking into the building and shinning on her back, I can only make out her silhouette. Tall and lithe, like a cobra.
"'She' would be me."
A/N: Cliffy! You must hate me for leaving you in suspense, but who doesn't love a great cliff hanger? What do you think of this chapter being in Percy's POV? Should I alternate, like three with Annabeth then one with Percy? Let me know what you think! I have a goal; 40 reviews? Puh-leeeeze? I know you guys can do it, and if you do I will be so happy! :) Thanks for reading, and don't forget to submit your guesses in a review or a PM for the contest!
ROUND 2:
Oh, I know you and I are going to get along just fine, Mr. Cuthbert. I love this place already. I always heard that Prince Edward Island was the most beautiful place in Canada, and I used to imagine I was living is the first dream that has ever come true for me. It's always been one of my dreams to live by the sea. These red roads are so peculiar. When we got into the train at Charlottetown and the red roads began to flash past, I asked Mrs. Spencer what made them red, and she said she didn't know and pity's sake not to ask her anymore questions. Dreams don't often come true, do they Mr. Cuthbert? Just now, I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I can't feel exactly perfectly happy because, what color would you call this?
Red. That's why I can't ever be perfectly happy. I know I'm skinny and a little freckled and my eyes are green. I can imagine I have a beautiful rose-leaf complexion and lovely, starry violet eyes, but I cannot imagine my red hair away. It'll be my life-long sorrow.
Good luck!