Jules had woken up that morning with her crackhead energy working over time. By the grace of the gods, she had managed to get a decent night's rest in between the sounds of her siblings giggling and sneaking out of the cabin. As soon as her feet hit the floor, Jules began shouting.

”First day of camp losers! Let’s go!” She had walked throughout the cabin banging on walls and bed posts, doing her best to make sure that the whole Hermes clan was wide awake. The young girl stuck her tongue out as her siblings threw insults her way, giving them the stink eye while dodging various items being thrown towards her head. Jules managed to fight her way into the bathroom while there was still enough hot water for a shower. No matter how fast she moved, it didn’t seem as if Jules’s morning routine took any less time. She was on a mission to gather her brothers (Ty, Jackson and Oliver) for their annual tradition of first day camp breakfast - and none of them were in their beds.

Oliver was probably getting all primped up by the Aphrodite girls, Ty was probably still asleep in Erin’s bed, and as for Jackson…

Dressed and ready for the day, Jules practically ran out of the cabin on her way towards the woods. Something in the back of her mind was nearly guaranteeing Jackson’s whereabouts for her. She waved to familiar faces and threw out some wicked one line responses, but nothing was keeping her from finding Jackson this morning.

As soon as her bare feet hit the boundary line of the forest, Jules began to run. Like so many other campers, she practically knew these woods like the back of her hand - and she knew the path to Jackson’s cherry grove even better. Coming up on her destination quickly, Jules slowed her pace and began to look for ‘her tree’. Whenever Jules wanted to keep Jackson company at the cherry grove, she had the habit of climbing the nearest and tallest tree that wasn’t a cherry tree - and this morning was no different.

Spotting the back of Jackson's misshapen head, Jules began to climb the tree and quickly and as quietly as she could. Stopping about half way up, she crawled out to the middle of a branch and flipped herself upside down, hanging from her knees.

”Good morning, Obi-Wan!” she shouted, probably scaring the shit out of him.

Jackson had been in the middle of his morning ritual of praying and meditating in front of the cherry blossom tree that he had helped plant and by help, Jackson approached a rather odd future friend by the name of Kepano Ka’aukai. He remembered he didn’t have to bribe or forcibly persuade the green-haired son of Demeter. All he had to do was ask, mention the kind of tree, and Kep would help. Jackson remembered thinking how impressive it was he was able to accelerate the growth of the three so it would be as he remembered back at Kenji’s home. Thirty feet high and thirty feet wide, bearing the most beautiful pink cherry blossoms in spring.

Though, now, the trees were as bare as Jackson’s mind was whenever he had to figure out any calculations. Jackson really didn’t excel at math…or science…or anything involving numbers. Just as well, he wasn’t a brainiac like that Haluk was. Or Brynn. He was smart in other ways. Like he could tell you how much twist you needed to put in your body to accurately throw a shuriken into a tree without damaging the sharp edges of the throwing star. Or how precise a slice with your katana or wakizashi needed to be to cut through five things of bamboo without damaging the blade. Or just how troubling it is to effectively execute the thousand years of death jutsu that Kakashi used on Naruto.

Like how he was a magnet for his younger sister, always bothering him when he was trying to get in touch with his roots in front of the tree that held a deep, personal meaning for the Son of Hermes.

Looking up at Jules, displaying an unique fusion of an expression of annoyed and amused on his face, Jackson asked as polite as he could muster, “What’s up, Spider-monkey?”

With her entrance not getting the proper attention that she wanted, Jules pulled herself up and re-adjusted so that she was sitting on the tree branch. ”Couldn’t find Ty or Oli, so naturally I decided to come an’ bug you,” she quipped. ”You didn’t all just think you could skip breakfast on me, huh?”

The Japanese boy squinted his eyes at Jules. Half because of where she was and the early rays of the not-yet-fully-risen sun obscuring his vision and the other half at the annoyance creeping up inside him. ”Correction,” he started, clearing his thoat dramatically, ”I didn’t skip breakfast. I had Omurice before I came out here. I skipped breakfast with you,” Jackson elaborated. The dance between eldest brother and youngest sister was one he did well. One might even say that Jackson thrived off of seeing her make faces at him. “Anyways, I came out here to be alone. Camp has yet to fully awaken, so I thought I would take advantage of it.” There was a somber, almost melancholy tone in his voice and a reflection of sadness in his earthy brown eyes. He hid it well but he knew Jules and knew she could see it, though he was hoping she’d read the room and not press him about it too much.

”Because you’re a stinky buttface,” the daughter of Hermes grumbled, listening as Jackson trailed on. It seemed as if they had vastly different plans this morning - a fact that both disappointed and intrigued her. Jules was a nosey little brat, and felt as if her brother's business was her own. Pushing his plans to the side so that she could drag him along for five seconds of fun was a common occurrence. Something in Jacksons tone was enough to let her know that wouldn’t be happening this morning.

Crossing her arms, she asked ”What’s eatin’ at’chya, Gilbert?”

“You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

It was rare that Jackson wasn’t able to ward off the nosey nature of the baby of the Hermes Cabin. It was rare that he could fake it enough to get her off his scent, but just as Jackson woke up today feeling out of it, Jules here woke up feeling especially consistent with her desire to not take no for an answer. On any other day, he wouldn’t be so hesitant to just talk to her. On normal days, he could muster enough energy to fake it.

Not today, though. Not when he couldn’t even hide it in how he spoke.

Jackson let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “As you know, when it’s spring time, this tree here is in full bloom. Cherry Blossoms falling from the branches slowly. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Coming here always clears my head when it gets too noisy,” Jackson admitted, looking at the bare branches. There wasn’t even a hint of the seeds coming in yet. “You know about why I wanted this and the others nearby to be built, right?” He asked, looking at his nosey baby sister.

”Nope,” Jules quipped proudly in response to his first question. Hopping down from the branch she was perched on, the blonde stood with her arms crossed, leaned up against the tree as she waited for her brother to speak again. The somberness that had fallen over them reinforced her previous decision to not be a giant pain in the ass.

”Something having to do with your mom, right?” she questioned, unable to remember the exact reasoning behind the purpose of the groves.

Jackson nodded, gazing up at the blossom-less trees. It was unfortunate they weren’t in bloom yet. He knew he could easily ask a child of Demeter to make the tree grow the cherry blossoms, but that felt disrespectful to nature. “We had a whole section of cherry blossom trees at the compound I was raised in. There wasn’t a lot to like about that place, but every April, Kenji would always pause my training to celebrate nature and the beauty of the Sakuras. Mom loved them especially. She always loved flowers. And losing her was worse than when Firefly was cancelled, so planting these and getting the help from the others was a passion of mine.”

Jackson thought to the last spring before his mother was taken away from him in this world, Jackson…Ryusuke…remembered the last happy memory of the last day when the blossoms were in full bloom, how they fell from the trees with a slow grace, it was like he was watching something out of a beautifully-animated Samurai anime. The way time stood still and everyone - even his bastard of an adopted father - stared with wonder, that was the memory Jackson thought about when he came here. It’s the reason he was here now.

To honor Sayuri. Haha ni keiiwohyōsuru tame ni

“Even if they’re just naked groves, it’s relaxing and blocks out the bad.” He inhaled deeply as to swallow down the overwhelming emotion begging to surface, Jackson turned to his sister. “Do you have a place like that? Somewhere that you like to go to escape and allow yourself to feel? Maybe with a certain blonde…” Jackson had mastered the ability to switch topics when he saw fit and this was a perfect fit for it. Plus he’s not as ignorant to his siblings’ lives that he wasn’t aware of something happening with the baby of the Hermes cabin and that sunshiney blonde from Cali.

Listening as Jackson’s words tugged at her heart strings, Jules wished that there was something she could say to ease her brother's pain. She remembered how much it hurt when she lost her own mother, and could only imagine what Jackson was going through. Jules had never been the closest with her mother - but it still hurt. The thought only made her wonder what Jackson was truly going through even more. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to him, other than offer a sympathetic smile. Fishing for words, she was grateful that Jackson decided to change the subject - even if the heat rose to her face as he did so.

”Oh, you mean my future wife?” Jules half-joked, a mischievous smile on her face. She held Vivian near and dear in her heart, but marriage was a long way off no matter how much she joked about it. ”I like the ocean,” she continued, hoping to not give her brother another chance to poke fun at her if she spoke fast enough. ”There’s something about the smell of the salt - the sound of the waves. It calms me. Something about the water just… makes it all go away, ya know?”

Listening to Jules talk about the ocean and how the ambience of it all from the waves crashing ashore to the smell of the salty air soothed her, he could tell it came from a genuine place. He nodded in that understanding. Two children of Hermes that had a thing for nature. Jackson was a stubborn root that found solace in the flowers of his homeland and the mischievous crackhead found her equilibrium by the sea. If she was the sea and he was the land, maybe that made Tyler the sky - three parts of a trinity that completed each other.

Jackson’s deep brown eyes looked at the tree, feeling something in the air tugging at him. The bare branches were moving just gently due to the sudden pick up of wind. Then, his gaze ventured off in the direction of the sea. He was lost in a daze as if he was imagining being right there at the shore, hearing the waves collide with the beach, hearing it splash against land. Then he looked up at the sky. Even if he was wrong about what Tyler represented to them, he liked to think he was like the sky. Maybe a gust of wind that fits the missing piece between the oldest Hermes kid and the youngest. The perfect balance of the two. But it was also about him, Atlas, and Sol. About him at the center of the grief he still experienced and felt for his mother, the lily that was taken from his life much too soon and moving on until the next bloom.

Everything had a three-way dance. The beginning, the uncertain middle, and the end where solace could be found.

Closing his eyes, Jackson just let the words come out before he could even check if it was proper, “Three parts, trinity. United, complete cycle. Peace of mind is clear.”

She watched as her brother drifted away again in to the safety of his mind. Not quite sure what to do or how to respond, she went with her gut.

”Want me to sit with you a while? I promise not to be too big of a pain in the ass.”

Jackson half smiled and looked up. “You not being a pain in the ass? Sounds like an impossible challenge,” he said and then looked at her, “But we’re two people who always meet the impossible and kick it in its hairy balls.” His head gestured to the seat next to him and Jackson just basked in the company of his kid sister who sometimes, only in moments when she wasn’t in full crackhead mode, reminded him of the firm softness his mother had. As weird as that might be, it was that he found comfort in.

Like most things in life, the arrival of summer meant close to nothing to Atlas Rossi. Back in the day he used to get excited every time a new camper arrived, hoping that somehow Danny had made it to safety. Now, his family was here at camp, safe and sound. Summer just didn’t offer him anything to look forward to any more. It was just another season.

The son of Morpheus exited his cabin promptly at six in the morning. It seemed as if he wasn’t the only early riser this morning. The camp was already blooming with life. His fellow campers made their way to the breakfast hall and their morning chores, the sun rising over the hills in the distance. If he wasn’t such a closed off person, the sight might have made him happy.

Making his way across the camp grounds, Atlas found himself at the lake as he did every morning for the last five years. Beginning his first lap, it didn’t take him long to spot a familiar, dark flowing head of hair off in the near distance. Adjusting his pace so that he could catch up and also get a good look at that booty, Atlas greeted his favorite frenemy once he was at her side.

”Happy summer, Devil woman,” he quipped, now matching his pace to Sol’s.

While the majority of her peers were sleeping or barely initiating the process of waking up, Soleil Jameson had already been up for a half hour, having enjoyed her sunrise morning jog around. With her airpods blasting songs from her personalized workout playlist and the cool air caressing her face, the young woman could feel her muscles comfortably stretching out in preparation for the upcoming day ahead. Although she wasn’t exactly a morning person, sacrifices had to be made if she wanted to keep herself in peak shape. Discipline, she had learned early on, was everything-- demigoddess or not.

After a successful jog and some weight training, Sol always concluded her workouts with a few laps around the lake (weather permitting, of course). Not only was it a refreshing way to cool down during these warmer mornings, but it also stretched out muscles not previously used, and helped her body start winding down from the vigorous exercise from before. Halfway through her second lap, she heard someone diving into the lake and swimming behind her. The raven-haired girl didn't have to look back to know exactly who it was. She’d recognize the sound of that stroke anywhere.

”Happy summer, Devil Woman.”

“Right back at you, Sandman,” the green-eyed girl greeted back, momentarily pausing her swimming to float in front of her beloved torment. Although neither of them had officially declared it, their impromptu lake swim meets were part of Sol and Atlas' routine-- a part they secretly looked forward to each day. “Summer season's barely even started, and you're here asking to get beat at something already?” she taunted, flashing the boy one of her signature mischievous smirks. Testing the Italian boy's limits and pushing his buttons was one of Sol's favorite pastimes.

While he would never admit it out loud, being in the water with Sol was a welcome and familiar sort of comfort for Atlas; a routine he didn’t have to second guess or over think. From the outside looking in it would be absolutely absurd to call anything about their relationship comforting, but that was one of the best things about being Atlas Rossi. He didn’t have to explain anything to anyone.

Fighting the urge to shove her head under the water - an action that would for sure earn him a swift right hook - the young man laughed at her question.

”What better way to break in the start of what’s bound to be another season of hell,” he quipped, already beginning to be too philosophical for this early in the morning.

A smirk immediately lit up Soleil’s face at Atlas’ comment. Leave it up to the son of Morpheus to kick off the season with his usual moodiness: a sure sign that he was in high spirits. “Aren't you being a ray of sunshine this morning!” the girl jested, splashing him right in that handsome face of his, trying to annoy him further. “I would’ve thought that you’d be glowing considering the great time you had last night.”

She was talking, of course, about how they had spent their last night free of responsibilities back in his cabin. The pair had started off their evening by enjoying a delicious Italian meal Atlas had cooked for them, indulging in some mary jane and playing strip poker until the temptation became so unbearable they ended up tangled in the sheets of the young man’s bed. If he was feeling crabby, it was probably because Sol had slipped away early to exercise instead of sticking around for breakfast, cuddles and a private workout-- not that either of them would ever admit it, though.

While the previous night had been fun, Atlas wished that Sol hadn’t rushed out so fast this morning. It wasn’t enough to actually dampen his mood, but the thought kept tugging at the back of his mind in an annoying fashion. He wasn’t sure if it was something worth bringing up. He and Sol hadn’t put an official label on anything and were simply just feeling out the vibes. Asking about or eluding to anything more serious between the two would potentially scare her away and ruin his ‘don’t give a fuck’ reputation.

Trying to shake the water off of his face proved to be pointless, but it didn’t stop Atlas from making a stupid scrunched up face before making his next sarcastic remark. ”If I’m not off-putting and philosophically dark, I’d stop pulling all the bitches,” he retorted, splashing her back. ”Are we gonna race or what? I’m already itching to clog my arteries with bacon grease.”

Sol raised an eyebrow at Atlas’ comment. “What other bitches do you need to pull? The best thing that ever happened to you is right here,” she shrugged, a smug, cocky edge to her voice while she dismissed his last sentence. She was partly joking, but partly serious. It wasn't a secret that things between them had long since moved past the ‘frenemy’ territory nearly two years ago. Ever since the first time they had slept together after her eighteenth birthday party (some might even say it was a few months before that, but she’d never admit it), Soleil hadn’t had eyes for anyone else. Sure, they hadn’t officialized things or even had that conversation. But for all intents and purposes, Atlas was hers. He didn't need to ‘pull’ anyone else. Just the thought of seeing him with someone else had her blood boiling…

Watching as the fire built behind Sol’s green eyes, a small smirk crept across Atlas’s face. He enjoyed getting under her skin, especially in instances where it oddly reassured him. Anger was an emotion, and you couldn’t have feelings about something unless you cared. At the end of the day, Atlas wasn’t sure if he was ready to confront that fact.

”If by best thing you mean the biggest pain in my ass since the birth of my cousins, then sure,” he responded playfully, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t dare joke about other women being in his life any further out of the fear that she would drown him.

The daughter of Ares recognized that little, self-satisfied smirk on Atlas’ stupid face. It was the one he made whenever he had successfully baited her into saying something that fed his oversized ego. He knew that she had a short fuse. He knew that being jealous and territorial were some of her fatal flaws. And yet he took immense pleasure in pushing her buttons. This is why she wanted to punch him a lot of the time. But then he confirmed, in his own way, that she was indeed the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Sol’s urge to smack him faded gracefully into the background.

“Whatever,” Sol retorted with a small smile of her own, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Let’s get this race over with so I can beat your ass and stuff my face with some breakfast.”

Atlas chuckled as the pair took their places in the water. He counted down the start of the race as usual, and then they were off. Sol had always been the stronger swimmer, but Atlas kept up with her relatively well by watching her black mane bob above the water. He had always made up for his losses on dry land, and today wasn't any different. Sol had gotten a slight head start, causing Atlas to quicken his pace to catch up to her. It seemed that the two of them were neck and neck coming up over the small hill from the lake and back down to the main camping grounds.

Any other opponent, and Atlas would have taken the win. With Sol, however, he felt the need to keep things interesting and hopefully not be too insufferable with his cheers on the occasions where he did win. He slowed down ever so slightly, allowing her to pass their end marker just a few seconds before him. The young man doubled over, hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath.

”I'm glad we don't do everything that fast,” he remarked.

“Don't I know it,” Soleil managed to smirk back, her chest heaving as she also tried to catch her own breath. Atlas purposely letting her win was a conversation they'd had multiple times before, with her openly opposing it. She was a competitor at heart, and wanted every victory of hers to be earned, not gifted to her. Today, however, she was glad she had. After the morning jog, the weight training, the swimming and running, she was definitely in need of a break… And the lower of today's contest would be providing her with one.

With a loud shriek of “heads up!”, the daughter of Ares sprinted forward and jumped on Atlas’ back, wrapping her arms and legs around him to better secure herself. “Now take me to breakfast, loser,” the girl teased, planting a kiss on the boy's cheek.

All in all, it was just another morning in the lives of these two best friends.

Damian Black has never liked the sun. He didn’t hate it, but he has never liked it. The sun was too bright and it was too hot, which was odd because he could control hell fire, but Damian enjoyed the wintery months he’d spent at Camp Half-Blood. He liked those Long Island snow days because it meant he could, by understandable expectations, stay in his room. There was something uniquely marvelous about having the backdrop of the whistling, icy wind as he composed whatever song or instrumental for a song he was. Or if he was taking on a request for someone else.

But to be in Beverly Hills, the day before he would be expected back at camp? This was not his preferred use of what little true free time would remain, but Damian had offered to fetch the Bubbles-made-Demigoddess so she didn’t miss out on the start of camp, because nobody should ever do that. It’s not like Damian intentionally offered so he could skip out on Chiron’s overly-drawn out monologues and speech to the newcomers.

He, of course, did. It was the only way he could get out of it with an understandable expectation of what everyone knew Damian to be like. He felt guilty for a couple of people, though. The first being Jai. It was sprung on the poor guy last minute. As in just a mere three hours ago. He had gotten the go ahead to use this fetching of Tiffannie to be made into an official quest, but he needed to make sure he had the paperwork. Jai was the one in charge of said paperwork, but that meant he had to wake up the Son of Deimos at 5am. It was still dark out, so Damian was already up, but he needed to get it scored away. He informed Jaidyn of the nature of the quest and he would be going solo. He would be back before tomorrow’s events came along.

After a rather dramatic process because Jai was Jai and how busy he was (again with understandable expectations of Jai’s exhaustion), he got the necessary paperwork done and Damian was out of camp within the hour.

The second person that brought regret to Damian’s mind was his sister. He didn’t give her nor his hounds much heads up that he was heading out on a quest. The bright side, of course, was how all three of his hounds (Onyx, Rebus, and Aemor) were more than familiar with Erin and got along with her own hounds so, it wouldn’t cause many issues.

And for the past five hours, as he clung to the shadows, thanks in majority to the cloak his Aunt Nyx gave, Damian was lurking through the overpopulated, luxurious metropolis of the famous and followed his target…well, not really ‘target’. The object of his quest.

Yeah, that sounded better.

He was following Tiffannie, using the cloak of the night to hide his presence but he rode on his bike that he could use to travel between Earth and the underworld, but because he could manipulate the shadows, he was simply hiding it from view. He also hid the sound the engine made so nobody would be alarmed of the unseen roar of an engine passing them by. It took an enormous amount of focus, but one that Damian possessed, having been motivated by Zeru so many times to achieve greater feats of strength. Much like that, he was dedicated to keeping himself hidden away from Tiffannie discovering his presence.

It was succeeding. He followed her everywhere she went. Whether it was to the hair stylist, her high school, a nice restaurant with her parents, or even to go get a pint of froyo with her friends. Anywhere she went, there were too many people. Way too many for Damian’s comfort, but more importantly and pertaining to the quest, he needed for them to be alone to talk. Plus, Tiffannie would doubtless explode in a wave of unnecessary excitement when she saw him. He had grown used to it, but if that were to happen, of which he was certain it would, it would be better to reveal himself to her when they were alone than in front of others.

As the day went on and the sun seemed less like something he wanted to blast out of the sky, Damian followed Tiffannie as she went home. He took in the neighborhood, seeing all of the houses that, per house, were the size of at least half of camp. Compared to the apartment he remembered spending half of his life in, Damian was, at the very least, disgusted by how greed made up this cursed town.

Damian parked his bike outside of Tiff’s home. The need to keep himself hidden was no longer paramount, so he would remove himself, as well as his cloak, which would retract into his necklace, and he’d summon five skeletons that each stood as tall as Damian did, to stand watch over his bike, but as well as Tiff’s jeep and home. They were protected from mortal vision because of the mist, but who knew who would be bold enough to attack Damian and Tiff. As Demigods, they faced threats every day.

Damian made quick work of scaling the two-story house that Tiffannie lived in. He deduced which room was hers by the sheer amount of pink in it. He mouthed, “I shouldn’t have expected anything else,” as blue eyes looked at it through the closed window. Damian had his jacket on, the black leather jacket that anyone who knew him would immediately recognize. He wrapped himself in shadows and clung to the one that her balcony cast until he watched Tiffannie come in. She closed her door and Damian watched her. She had always been so breathtakingly beautiful. A true goddess, demi or not. Seeing her brought him a peace that the Prince of the Underworld never knew existed. The feelings she made him experience were all brand new to him and he didn’t know how to make sense of them.

Yet, watching her made him feel calm.

And then he saw her having trouble with her dress.

Without missing a beat, he pushed the window open, unwrapped the shadows that hid him, and as he had one foot on the window seal, he said a slightly curved smirk, “I can help with that.”



On the lovely morning of the last day of May, the daughter of the Sun God completed her mortal schooling requirements by officially graduating high school and obtaining her diploma. The past thirteen years had been filled with many highs, its fair share of lows, and innumerable memories that she would undoubtedly cherish forever. She’d received loving, congratulatory messages from family and friends, including Vivian, Killian and even Apollo himself. Once the ceremony and celebratory events concluded, the next step would be to pack her bags and begin her new life as a full-time member of Camp Half-Blood.

But the day was only just beginning! Knowing that this would be her last day in California for a while, Tiffannie was determined to make the most of it. She had already eaten lunch with her family, treated herself to some fro-yo with her friends, and had plans to attend a graduation house party that another friend was hosting. Singing out loud to Hoku’s ‘Perfect Day’ and the bubblegum pop songs that followed, Tiff pranced around the room collecting the items she would need for the party and placing them inside a tote bag. Once that was done, she rummaged through many clothing items in her dresser drawers until she finally settled on the perfect outfit. It was only after she tried to undo the zipper of her dress that she realized this would be an impossible task without someone else's helping hand. Letting out a frustrated huff, the girl fought her hardest to reach the zipper in any way she could, until…

“I can help with that.”

With a loud, piercing shriek, the wide-eyed Tiffannie spun around, snatched a wooden handle hair brush from the vanity and flung it in the direction of the voice in an attempt to defend herself from the intruder. She wasn’t a fighter like a lot of her half-blooded peers, but she had to do something!

The hairbrush came in hot and fast like a fireball from Hecate herself (with the aim of a true Daughter of Hecate). Damian reacted almost on instinct, willing the shadows, a single tendril sprouting up from the edge of the window. It caught the brush, stopping all of its momentum. Damian made a note of the velocity that Tiffannie hurled it at him. Had it been anyone else, they’d be concussed. “And people say you don’t have a perfect aim like Vivian?” Damian chuckled, releasing the brush from the shadow as he held it in his hand, examining it curiously and smiling as he realized it, much like everything in Tiff’s room from the bed to her dresser to the Princess Peach figurines on her dresser, and the vanity mirror she was seated in front of, was as pink as cotton candy.

There was a moment of silence in which the blonde simply stood there, mouth slightly agape, staring at the man in front of her window. The shaggy blond hair, the piercing green eyes, the impossibly sharp jawline, the lanky frame dressed in shades of black with pops of silver accessories… All features that belonged to a very special someone that the Taccone girl held close to her heart: Damian Black.

With another loud shriek (this time from pure excitement), Tiffannie sprinted across the room with her arms outstretched and pulled Damian into a warm, tight hug as soon as he was within her grasp. At first glance, you wouldn't even imagine that the physical embodiment of Pink Sugar Princess would have anything in common with the Prince of Darkness. But in reality, out of all the people Tiff had missed the most, the son of Hades was certainly at the top of the list along with her siblings. The two demigods had bonded after the blonde volunteered her pet sitting services around camp and won the trust and affection of Damian's hounds in record time. The man's reasoning was that if his highly protective pets had given them their trust so quickly, then she must be quite extraordinary. Their initial conversations were very casual, with Tiff doing most of the talking. But the longer they interacted with one another, the more Damian opened up to the girl. By the time she had left camp the last time, the son of Hades and the daughter of Apollo had been nearly inseparable, and sparks of a budding romance were flying around them. Having to be away from one of her best friends (and crush) had been hard, but knowing she would see him again kept the nostalgic feelings at bay.

And now here he was! Yay!

“I missed you!” Tiffannie exclaimed, pulling away from the man just enough to plant a kiss on his cheek. S , leaving a glossy, sparkly pink imprint behind. “I haven’t seen you in forever, D! How have you been?!”

There was something weirdly comforting about Tiffannie’s brand of excitement. To others, their ears would be bleeding from hearing the pink-obsessed blonde’s voice go to levels that shouldn’t be humanly achievable, but they weren’t necessarily human, now were they? Her voice was mesmerizing. Even when out of pitch, it was like a siren singing. The chaotic harmony that blessed his ears. Almost as fitting as it was when she embraced him and kissed him on his cheek.

Damian had to admit that made his heart beatbeatbeat. And beat some more. His feelings that he's been fighting and fighting and fighting for the chipper blonde has been something he’s been trying to make sense of. In the past few months, especially since he and Alina ended their benefitship, Tiff had been on his mind. And seeing her now only reaffirmed his struggles.

“Been alright. Can’t say the same for my ears,” he teased. Damian didn’t bother to wipe away the evidence of her kiss. Sometimes you just had to take pride in the unique reactions very unique friends had for you.

Tiffannie’s cheeks turned pink. She often forgot that her enthusiastic demeanor could sometimes be a little too much for other people, and that demigods’ hearing was more sensitive than regular folks. “Sorry!” she replied sheepishly, pulling away from Damian and offering an apologetic smile. “I'm just so excited to see you! I have so many stories to tell you! Life has just been really awe--” Tiff abruptly stopped speaking mid-sentence, a frown settling in between her eyebrows. “Wait a minute… What are you doing here in LA?” she asked Damian, now visibly confused.

Damian had long accepted Tiffannie’s flaws as something that made her who she was. Who was he to judge when he had his own that made so many people wary of him and even flat out avoided his company due to his antisocial tendencies? Tiffannie was the exact opposite of this, of course. She was too forward for some. Her voice, at times, was like someone blowing a whistle in your ear or raking sharp claws on rusty metal or an old blackboard. But then there were moments that she surprised and impressed him with how compassionate she could be. She had something about the way her kindness was authentic and genuine, something that Damian had thought was lost in this world. He didn’t experience it from his father so he never thought to spot it, but Tiffannie showed him that it existed.

Between her and Erin, his view of life became less black and white and more 50 shades of gray and silver.

After a moment, Damian said, “I noticed you were having troubles with the dress. I meant what I said. I can assist with that.” The son of Hades remarked with his typical tone that liked to tease. But seeing the way she looked at him in that all-too-familiar deer having been caught in headlights, he added. “I’m also here to fetch you for the summer, but first the dress.”

Tiffannie grew even more curious and confused with Damian’s answer. “They gave you permission to leave camp to come all the way to California to get me?” she asked him, draping her blonde locks forward over her right shoulder in one swipe and turning her back towards the young man. As far as the girl knew, permission for campers to leave the premises was only given in cases of family emergencies or quests, and this didn’t qualify as either of those. How had her friend managed to get all the way here to get her, then?

Damian fell quiet as he focused on helping with the dress that the chipper blonde was struggling with. In the middle of it, he said, “I got special permission from Jai to treat this as a quest,” he explained, though this being a quest quest was a stretch. “I assured him I--” he stopped himself, realizing the implication of it, “I mean we would be back before the official start of summer began. As long as we beat that, I’m sure Chiron nor Mr. D will punish us…or me, too bad.” When he succeeded, he tapped her shoulder, resting it on her smooth skin. Damian lost his train of thought and got lost in the moment for a second. “And done.” He had snapped himself out of it, but he wondered if Tiff noticed?

Having the god Apollo’s blood coursing through your veins came with a lot of perks, enhanced hearing being one of them. With every step he took towards her, Tiffannie could hear Damian’s heartbeat suddenly racing inside his chest, making her curious as to the reason why. A more important question arose when she remembered that Damian also had enhanced hearing, and could probably tell that her own heart had started thumping hard against her chest. She tried to play it off as best as she could, and felt that her plan had worked… Up until she felt the warm touch of his soft hand on her shoulder. The heartbeat that she had painstakingly gotten under control went off in a frenzy again, and a shiver ran down her body from the point of contact. Instinctively, Tiffannie reached out her own hand towards Damian’s. And after interlocking her fingers with his, the girl felt that same spark she always did whenever they exchanged moments of affection. In moments like these, she always wondered: did Damian feel it too?

At that moment, Damian wondered the same thing. Is she hearing what I’m hearing?

There wasn’t much time to dwell on that question before Damian softly pulled his hand away. “Um… Thank you…” the blonde murmured, hastily turning away before her guest could realize she was blushing. The last thing she needed was for D to put two and two together and get some inkling of the way she truly felt about him. She grabbed what looked like a handful of clothes from the corner of her bed and disappeared inside the walk-in closet, leaving the door cracked just enough to allow the conversation between the two friends to continue.

“I was supposed to go to a pool party and meet up there with my friends, but since you’ve never been to California, how about we skip it and I show you around town instead?” she called out from the other room, emerging a short time later in a pair of low-rise shorts that showed off the matching bottom of the pink bikini she was wearing. She paused for a moment in front of Damian with a small smile, twirled in place to proudly display her outfit of choice before prancing to her vanity to pick out a pair of shades.

There was a moment before she came out that the Son of Hades, much to his nature, looked around the room. He stood mostly in place but he took in the details of Tiffannie’s room. The myriad of pink and peach colored knick knacks like the collection of Princess Peach figurines on her dresser, the pink palette bedding, the complimenting wallpaper, and how everything in her room looked like it came straight out of Barbie’s or Princess Peach’s personal penthouse. He smiled at that. Damian admired that about her. How she would be unapologetically herself despite how others might perceive it.

“Uh, if that’s what you want. I wouldn’t mind seeing your friends too,” Damian said, remembering that he was on her side of the world. Manners maketh man was something Erebus always told him and he tried to remember that. He was a visitor in her domain. “Whatever you want…” The words coming out of his mouth came to a slow, gradual halt when she came out. It was simple. A pink top and jeans. Damian’s heart started to beat fast again. He was typically a great wall of obsidian, but the pink flames that Tiffannie represented melted that wall every time. “I’ve been told I'm not supposed to look at the sun directly, but when it looks as beautiful as you do right now, how could I?” Damian spoke faster than his brain could stop him but when someone so breathtaking presents herself for you, one must always speak the truth no matter the consequences.

If Damian already thought she looked radiant, it was nothing compared to the blinding, beaming smile the blonde gave him when she heard his words. Her friend had given her compliments and kind words before, but this was the first time he had been so blunt about it. The warm, fuzzy feeling he gave her whenever they were together seemed to have multiplied tenfold, and she couldn't stop herself from squealing her thanks, kissing his cheek again and giving him a quick hug.

“Party it is!” Tiffannie declared brightly, sliding her feet into sparkly pink sandals before grabbing her packed tote bag and skipping her way to the bedroom door. “You're going to have so much fun, D! There's gonna be music, beer pong, so many snacks… My friends are really awesome, too! It's going to be grea--” She swung the door open and was about to head out when a thought suddenly stopped both her body and her sentence in its tracks. “Damian?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you're going to need a different outfit…” she commented, taking a hard look at the man's wardrobe choice. He looked as amazing as always of course but-- “It's a pool party, not a Hells Angels biker convention.”

“What? You don’t think I’ll start a new trend?” Damian with the full confidence that only he could pull off looked down at the classic biker attire he fancied. He smiled and, as he was mirroring what Tiffannie had done for him just a few moments ago, did a full 360º turn. The sound of the heavy leather of his jacket swished slightly against the metal of his studded belt, his blond hair flowed in the air.

The blonde giggled and shook her head. “I would just prefer that you not get heat stroke wearing all that leather,” she said earnestly, walking back to Damian to grab his hand and tug at it gently. “Now come on! Let's get going! The party's going to start soon, and we have to stop to get you an outfit!”

And before he could say anything else, Damian found herself being dragged out of the room, with a very excited Tiffannie leading the way.