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italianhomosexuality · 1 month

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you don't have to know what to say or what to think on ao3

The first time it happens, it's an honest mistake.

(The times after that are also honest mistakes, but Nico feels like he should've known better.)

He's been working really, really hard to learn American Sign Language. After his three days in the infirmary, after working night after night, talking to Mr. D, struggling to learn how to open up to other people and how to finally be a 15-year-old teenager who tries his best to not let his lifelong trauma get to him too much, Nico di Angelo had become close friends with one Will Solace.

He'd never thought he'd be able to have a friendship with someone like Will. Someone who didn't take shit from anyone—he made sure to make that clear—, but was doting and cared for everyone else, sometimes a little too much. Someone who was as bright as the sun itself, who could light stars in the sky just by smiling, who could coax Nico's fears out of him and make him feel equal, not judged.

Someone who Nico could see himself loving.

Okay, and, woah, that might be a little too far, but was he wrong? He was finally allowing himself to feel hope after The Incident (mental trademark), letting himself have friends and a crush that didn't feel like ripping his insides apart and stir-frying them for dinner. So what if Nico's eyes lingered a little too long on the way Will's hair glowed against the infirmary's emergency lights?

(“Nico, when the siren rings and lights up, you stop everything and you go help!”, Kayla had yelled at him the first time it happened. He only felt death in the air after Will finally started running after the patient.

It was that bad.)

Who could blame him, then, for wanting to learn the language the boy he liked felt more comfortable with? Will had assured him that he did just fine with English, that his Cabin Nine hearing aids worked more than perfectly, but Nico had seen the way he got excited whenever he got to sign with someone. There were a few Deaf demigods around camp and Will knew every single one of them. Sometimes, he would sign while speaking, and it made Nico's Italian self happy because hand gestures! Then it made Nico's gay self happy because Will's hands, oh my gods, and then Nico wanted to learn how to make Will's face light up like that.

So, he learned. He got familiar with the computer in the Big House, watching YouTube videos on the matter, practicing in the mirror, going up to other campers who were signers and fighting social anxiety like his life depended on it. He had nailed most stuff by week three. The power of hyperfixations.

He did it all hiding from Will, of course. It was meant to be a surprise. He would walk up to Will, sign something, and Will would be like, “Nico, I didn't know you signed!”, so Nico would reply, “I learned just for you!”, and they'd hold hands and kiss and skip into the sunset.

A guy can dream, right?

“Hey, Nico!” Will yells out from the infirmary steps. “I'm done with my shift. Wasn't expectin' to see you here.”

Gods, his accent is so cute.

“I just thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing,” says Nico, preparing himself mentally for what comes next. “I have a surprise for you, actually.”

“Oh, you do?” Will gives his side-tooth smile, the one he does when he's excited for something he doesn't want to show excitement over.

Nico takes a deep breath.

“Food-you-want?” He signs, slowly but surely. “Me-hungry.”

Will blinks.

“Do that again.”

A warm feeling bubbles up in Nico's chest. Embarrassment, adoration, nervousness, teenage crush? He doesn't really know. He only knows that Will's cheeks look flushed and his voice is barely above a whisper, a tone Nico doesn't get to hear often, so of course he signs his sentence again. He'd do anything Will asks for.

“Do the last sign again.”

“Hum,” Nico starts, feeling a little off. He signs it again, anyway, placing his hand shaped like a C in front of his torso, following a line from the center of his collarbones down to the middle of his chest, then vice-versa. “It means 'hungry'... Right?”

Will takes a deep breath, face redder than Nico's ever seen.

“It means 'hungry' when you do the movement once,” he explains, carefully, doing the sign. The same handshape and movement Nico did, but just once, from the collarbone to the middle of his chest. “When you do the movement twice… It means something else.”

“What does it mean?”

They stare at each other. Nico's eyes are wide. Will's eyes are so blue. Nico would pay more attention to the blue if he weren't so preoccupied with—

“It means 'horny'. You signed, I'm horny.”

—With running away.

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

The second time it happens, Nico is still embarrassed by the first one.

Maybe it had been his fault to not pay a lot of attention when the online video he was watching went over the five parameters of ASL. But it wasn't entirely his fault the two signs were so similar, right? Will assured him afterwards—after he found Nico and after a few awkward laughs—that it was a very, very common mistake. The signs were really similar, after all. Nothing wrong with admitting that.

Still, Nico couldn't help but feel his face heat up every time he remembered that day. He'd told his crush he was horny. Unwillingly, sure, but it was sort of true! Nico was still accepting what being horny meant, but he knew that, even in the mildest sense of the word, he was horny for Will. Embarrassing, but honest.

So now, they were hanging out in the Hades' cabin, just the two of us and a bunch of DVDs they'd stolen from the Apollo cabin and Chiron's stash in the Big House. A mix of old rom-coms, sci-fi, noir, and historical dramas, limitless options, but they still argued over what to watch.

Nico suggested, finally, Back to the Future. Will adjourned his case.

As Will walks back from the DVD player, having put the disk in there, Nico takes a deep breath.

“You-eat-want-what?” he signs, going over each sign in his head like a mantra. He does not need a repeat of last time. Then, he raises his eyebrows, signing, “Pizza?”

Will goes as red as a tomato in the face.

“N-No, I'm good,” Will stutters, fanning himself like Hazel does when she's shocked. “Not hungry.”

“You just came back from a 12-hour shift,” Nico deadpans.

“Let's just watch the movie.”

So Nico is taken back to nights at the Lotus Hotel, when they would have movie nights and play Back to the Future in a loop. Marty McFly might have been his first boy crush. Briefly, he imagined Will in a costume like that for Halloween. But, for now, they're doing just fine, thighs close enough to touch, Will's hand nearly making its way to Nico's scalp for some good head scratches, and life is good.

Sooner than Nico would've liked, it's curfew time. The DeLorean is long gone, and Will is rising up to his feet, stretching, his shirt riding up, and Nico sees the sliver of skin, with a little of hair on his navel, and, oh, gods, he shouldn't be seeing this, but Will is really handsome, and—

“Walk me out?” he says, sweet as ever, and Nico can't say no.

“I had a good time,” says Nico, leaning on the door panel. The moonlight makes Will's hearing aids glimmer.

“Me too,” Will replies, smiling. “The infirmary today was as excitin' as a mashed-potato san'which, good Lord.”

His accent got thicker the more tired he got, just like Nico's.

“Good-night,” Nico signs. “Sleep-good, you.”

Will's eyes linger on Nico's hands, then on his face. His expression is unreadable. It seems… fond? Happy? Nico doesn't know. He just knows he wants that big smile.

“By the way, Nico,” Will starts, voice a little serious, “this is how you sign 'pizza'.”

He goes through the motions. It's just fingerspelling, Nico notices. P-i-z-z-a.

Nico furrows his brows. “What did I sign?”

“You signed…” Will takes a deep breath. “You asked me if I wanted to eat, uh, the… The female genitalia.”

Nico slams the door so hard he doesn't know how Will keeps all of his teeth and nose intact.

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

The third time it happens, Nico is just plain tired.

He had been on a week-long trip for his father, working on some old business in Louisiana, fighting the occasional monster that came his way and shadow-traveling out of danger—no longer to an inch of his life because he didn't want to make Will worry about him. His clothes are a mess, his hair is greasy, there's soil built up under his fingernails, he hasn't had an actual meal in days, and he's exhausted to say the least.

After showering, eating, and bed-rotting any leftover worries away, he sleeps for fifteen hours straight. He wakes up still exhausted, though a little less, so he walks up to the infirmary since he has nothing better to do. Might as well get a check-up while he's there.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says to the head of blond hair when he sees it.

“Good afternoon, di Angelo,” Will replies, looking ready to tackle any challenge, bloody or non-human, that comes his way in his combination of scrubs, cargo shorts, and Jesus sandals. “You look like you're near 'bout past goin'.”

Nico doesn't know what he's saying, but shrugs anyway. “I'm tired.” Then, he signs, “Me-tired. Coffee, me-need.”

Will smirks.

“All you had to do was ask, Death Boy,” he replies, amused, and Nico lights up.

“You have coffee?” He doesn't know why Will looks so smug about coffee, in a way he's never looked before, but he lets himself be led to the infirmary kitchen, watches Will drape over the Nespresso machine, churning out a nice cup of pure, slightly-processed espresso.

The smell is enough to make Nico's eyes open a little more.

“Also,” Will says, putting his doughnut down by the table, still smirking for reasons unknown, “the sign for 'coffee' goes like this.”

He demonstrates. Nico barely follows, focused on taking a sip from his coffee.

“You signed, I need to make-out. You've gotta pay more attention, di Angelo, or— oh, my gods, Nico, breathe! You're gonna burn your throat! Nico!”

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

Nico is tired of failing.

It's not like he's failed-failed. Will has been more than helpful, willing to show him the ropes and correct his signs, and they've actually spent more time with the other Deaf campers, practicing and practicing. Nico is still fighting the flush that decorates his cheeks whenever he signs with someone else, but he's getting there. Anything for that megawatt Will Solace smile.

So, on the Fourth of July, as they're watching the fireworks, Will takes his hearing aids off, saying the noise makes it hurt. Nico gets a little antsy, but shakes it off, and would rather focus on the way the red, white, and blue from the sky makes Will's freckles change colors, too.

And he looks so good tonight. He ditched his usual medic attire for something still Will, a white tank top, denim shorts, an American flag bandana to keep his curls out of his eyes and flip-flops. Nico dressed similarly, but in a black t-shirt and black shorts, black socks and black sneakers. No bandana; only Will can pull it off.

The tank-top is low cut enough that Nico can see his tattoo peeking out. Gods, he's so beautiful, he thinks to himself, lost in thought he almost misses the way Will is waving his hand in front of Nico's face.

“Hi,” Will signs. “Here, fun.”

Nico nods.

“Confess-me,” Will signs. It's a closed fist by his sternum, opening outwards, like he's pulling something out of his chest. Nico translates it to, I need to tell you something, then nods again. Will takes a deep breath. “Me-like-you. Me-like-like-you.”

Nico's breath is stolen. He doesn't know where it went. He doesn't know what's going on. Off in the distance, someone whoops loudly and a group of campers cheer, but he can only focus on the opaque thump of the fireworks and his own heartbeat increasing pace against his chest. Will is staring at him, blue eyes like the sky, like the bandana, like the prettiest gemstone one could conjure.

“Sign-you-learn. Why? Me. Special-you. Me-like-you, why? You.” When he points at Nico, the final 'you', he does a flourish, like he's honoring Nico. You learned sign for me. You're special. I like you because you're you.

Nico feels words bubbling up in his throat, but doesn't let himself say anything. Instead, he moves his hands like he's practiced so many times in front of the mirror before.

“Me-like-you. Long-how? Long. Favorite-person, you-mine. Date-you, I want.”

I've liked you for a long time. You're my favorite person. I'd like to date you.

With that, he finally gets a megawatt Will Solace smile.

#pjo #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #solangelo #solangelo fic #solangelo fanfiction #gianna writes #will solace #nico di angelo #will solace x nico di angelo #deaf will solace #3+1 things #solangelo fluff #wahhhhhhh #unbeta'd

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anticomedygarden · 6 months

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you're a sad sight honey but you look so cute

On the way back from the marching band's biggest performance of the year, Nico's bus breaks down. With none of his friends with him, he's completely alone, but when the chaperone puts the two section leaders in charge, he's forced to cooperate with Will Solace, his polar opposite and maybe sort of long time crush.

What could go wrong?

also on ao3

sorry it's been so long. i've been working on this long ass bastard for like a month. there will be two more chapters after this, and they're mostly done this time! everyone should be so proud.

if you can, i would recommend reading this one on ao3 because the first chapter is over 11,000 words.

minor tw for implied death of siblings and parents.

title from billy joel's 'i don't want to be alone anymore'

Five minutes since

Cold.

That was all Nico felt as he and everybody around him watched smoky tendrils wind their way up from the hood of the big yellow school bus, dancing playfully as if they weren't a message from God that Nico should have stayed in bed this morning and avoided this day from hell entirely.

He had been up since 3:30 a.m. His band grade could've taken the hit.

After the last kid stumbled out of the bus, uniform bag in hand, the bus driver climbed down and said, "We've got an engine problem."

Nico resisted the urge to spit back, "You don't say?", and instead turned to Mrs. Knowles, some freshman's mom and one of the newest members of the band's parent board. She had been appointed chaperone of the juniors for today's trip to New Rome University, and Nico had to say, she was not doing well.

"Um..." she started, sensing the eyes of three dozen 16-17 year olds. Her breath streamed out in white trails. "I'm gonna call the directors. If anyone here is a section leader, you're in charge."

Nico groaned internally and tried to avoid the eyes of the only other junior section leader as well as those of the rest of the teens present. Why, why, did he have to apply for low brass section leader last year?

Oh. He really shouldn't be asking himself that question, not when he already knew the answer.

But he put that thought away because a golden blond head was walking toward him across the stupid highway rest stop they were currently trapped in. Will Solace, the flute section leader and Nico's unfortunate partner for the time being.

If he made it out of this day with his sanity intact, it would be a miracle.

2 years before

Nico walked into the band room of Olympus High School for the first time with a bit of anticipation, some excitement, and a shit ton of dread. So far, his first impression of his new school hadn't been flattering, and his hopes for the next four years tanked with each step he took toward the band room.

If the rest of the school looked like ass, there was no way the band had any decent funding.

"Here's the music hallway," Percy said as they turned down the last hallway in the bottom floor of the school. "If you ever have a choir class, there's the classroom." He pointed to another door to the right. "There's the tuba/sousaphone closet. It looks like that because it used to be a boys' bathroom."

That explained the shitty tile and yellowing sink. At least Nico could say with confidence that he would never have to go in there. He still made note of it, though, since he may actually be staying at this school for a while.

"That's the color guard closet, but they haven't been able to use it this season because someone left cheese in there last season and, long story short, it got flooded."

Nico wasn't quite sure how old cheese led to an entire room being flooded, but if anyone could manage it, it was Percy. Especially in marching band.

"Was Thalia the one who left the cheese in there?" Nico asked, recalling that his oldest cousin of their group did color guard in outdoor season.

Percy's lips quirked. "No comment."

Finally, they got to the end of the white painted hallway and turned into the double doors of the band room, and Nico was immediately hit with the vivid sounds, smells, and sights of a high school marching band. He really should have expected this, but it was 7:45 in the morning and Percy had just taken him on a complete tour of the school. It wasn't exactly in the forefront of his mind.

They had come in on the side of the set up, behind the third trumpets and next to the smaller instruments' cubby. Horrid blue carpet squished under his feet, and the red painted brick walls were a true affront to his tired eyes. Dozens, probably more than a hundred, people packed into the large room, all talking, setting up instruments for practice, and milling around. As a freshman, Nico wasn't entirely used to marching band and all its attributes yet, but the month at his old school had at least helped him prepare a little.

Next was the smell. Sweat was his first impression, but spit from the brass instruments ingrained in the carpet certainly made itself known, and that wasn't even just from marching band. Rocking his trombone case back and forth, he supposed he would be contributing to that smell soon enough.

Probably the biggest assault to his senses was the noise. Everywhere, someone was testing out their instruments, tuning, practicing, or just generally goofing around. Percussionists were going through cadences, flutes were tuning against clarinets (one of the worst sounds in the world in his opinion), and he thought he heard a trumpet playing Baby Shark.

It was warm, too, with so many people blowing hot air. He could practically taste the humidity.

Someone blew a particularly shrill note, drawing his attention to the flute section. He paused. The offending member was a piccolo player, blond and blue eyed. Gorgeous.

The boy's startled eyes caught Nico's, and he looked away, a blush rising to his cheeks. "Who is that?" he asked Percy.

The taller boy didn't stop twirling his drumsticks. "Will Solace. He just started learning picc." He glanced down at Nico. "Will's a freshman, just like you, but I think he's been at Olympus for a few years. Why?"

Nico was spared answering by Percy's girlfriend, Annabeth, who was also their drum major. She stepped up onto a chair and blew her whistle, causing all noise to stop. "Everybody on the field!"

There was a mad scramble as the band rushed out the back doors, and Nico lost sight of the blond boy which was probably for the best. He couldn't, wouldn't, get attached.

He took a deep breath and tried to cast the beautiful boy from his mind and focus on his trombone.

He really had missed this.

15 minutes since

"When are they coming back to get us?" some short little guy who Nico thought might be a trumpet player asked in a whiny voice.

Frankly, Nico'd had enough socializing for one day and was ready to tell the kid to fuck off, but Will just calmly said, "We don't know yet, Hayden. You should probably find somewhere to sit and settle in. We could be here for a while."

Hayden rolled his eyes but turned around, presumably to find his friends. Nico hoped someone else had the kid's uniform bag because that would not be cheap to replace.

Next to him, Will had his own uniform bag by the hanger slung over a shoulder, and the shoes kept bouncing against the backs of his knees every time he moved, making an annoying thud noise. Nico's was in a pool at their feet.

When it became apparent that Hayden was the last kid in line to bug them, Will glanced down and said, "Your uniform's gonna get wrinkled."

Nico quickly rifled through every interaction he'd ever had with the flutist to try and figure out why he thought Nico would care about his band uniform getting wrinkled and came up with nothing.

At this point, he really didn't feel like talking, though, but Will was still looking at him expectantly, so he mumbled out an, "It's fine."

Will shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then, he turned around and walked around the bus to where Mrs. Knowles had gone. Reluctantly, Nico picked up his bag and followed him with the thought that two people were better than 34.

"Mrs. Knowles, any word on-oh." Will stopped in his tracks, nearly causing Nico to run into him in the shade of the bus. A second later, he looked up and saw why.

Mrs. Knowles was not on the phone with either band director like she'd promised but was instead holding up a lit cigarette to her mouth, and the two burnt out orange rolls at her feet told him this wasn't her first. The brunette turned around and squawked, dropping the cigarette.

"Oh, hey, I didn't hear you come around," she said with false nonchalance as she frantically stamped it out.

Fortunately, it seemed Will had decided he would be doing all the talking between the two of them. "We were just wondering if you'd heard anything about the bus? Some people are getting antsy."

And they'd only be getting worse as they realized their bus had broken down an hour into the three hour trip back to Olympus, which meant that no matter if administration called to say they had a bus ready to come get them right fucking now, it would be at least two hours until it got to them and four hours until they got home.

Nico just wanted to go home.

He shivered, and it wasn't just because of the cold. As soon as Will finished asking about the bus, Mrs. Knowles got an unpleasant look on her face. "I called Mr. D-"

"Big mistake," Nico muttered.

"-and he was no help, so I called Chiron, and he said he'd talk to transportation about getting another bus sent out. That was twenty minutes ago." Her brown hair escaping its pink claw clip swirled about her face in the cold October wind.

"Wonderful," Nico muttered.

"Did he give you any sort of timeline?" Will asked.

She winced. "No, sorry boys. You should probably go get comfy. We're gonna be here a while."

Nico did not miss the irony.

13 months before

It hadn't really sunk in yet for Nico, that this was Percy, Annabeth, and Grover's last NRU homecoming parade. Really, he had stopped thinking about anything at all except for his burning arms and legs about four blocks ago. Even the music managed to escape his mind.

But, as the band performed their nine millionth rendition of "How Far I'll Go" and Nico began to think his mouthpiece had frozen to his face, the realization trickled in. The next time he marched in these streets, three of his (only) friends would be watching from the sidelines.

The thought chilled him, more so than the cold wind that bit through his bright orange and purple uniform, cutting off feeling to his already numb fingers.

Suddenly, one of his section mates cut through his spiral. "Guide!"

He glanced down as surreptitiously as he could while holding a long metal tube up to his face to see that he was a step behind the rest of his line. He scrambled to catch up, wishing Chiron and Mr. D hadn't put him in the front row or that trombones didn't make up the first two rows of parade block.

Finally, they finished the song, and everybody brought their instruments down to attention. He took a deep breath.

Somebody in a row behind him (specific, he knew) started doing the steps chant. Left. Left. Left, right, left. He made sure his feet were in line.

They turned another corner, and he caught a whiff of pizza. Jupiter's, the most popular pizza place in the too large college town. That meant they were about three-quarters of the way through. He wondered idly how much time he'd be spending there in the next few years as Hazel dragged them to visit Percy, Annabeth, Grover and eventually Jason, Piper, Leo, and Frank, knowing he would never voluntarily go himself.

They were leaving him. He didn't see why he should have to go out of his way to see them.

The drumline slipped into another cadence, one of the more fun ones. With Percy in complete control and coasting through his final NRU parade, they hadn't done any of the boring ones yet, so kudos to that, though he was sure the freshman snares didn't feel the same.

Unfortunately, with every step, Nico's annoyance grew. The fun, upbeat cadences only served as a reminder that whoever took over as percussion section leader next year wouldn't be Percy, and in less than two years, he'd be left alone, again. (Sure, he'd have Hazel, but she was a year below him and had already made so many new friends that she clearly didn't need him the way he so desperately needed her.) By his senior year, he'd be left with nothing but holes in the spaces his cousins and the people that came with them used to occupy, vacancies unfillable by Nico's social skills alone.

At one time in his life, Nico had welcomed the emptiness because it meant he didn't have to face the biggest void of them all. But now? Well, now it was feeling more and more like the people that forced their way into his life with hammers and claws were the only thing keeping him from escaping back into that cavernous abyss, and for the first time in his life he craved that companionship like a starving man, because the eyes blinking back at him from the void were brown.

So when the parade was over, and everybody celebrated their new first place trophy, Nico didn't care that Percy and Annabeth lost themselves in each other, or that Hazel seemed to forget about him after going off with her friends, or that he had to say goodbye to Jason and get on the sophomore bus, and he definitely didn't care when pretty boy Will Solace and his friends celebrated the whole way home, filling the bus with their laughter and camaraderie.

He just sat alone on his bench seat and stared out the window until he eventually fell into a mercilessly dreamless sleep.

18 minutes since

Before Will could offer some falsely cheery placation that would make Nico nauseated, he turned and stomped back out to the other side of the bus.

Great, just great. Of course this would happen today, of all days, when he was exhausted, and already upset and wrung out.

Not watching where he was going, he tripped on a parking spot bar and ended up stumbling into the grass on the far side of the rest stop, somehow managing to find the only not yet overrun by teenagers in his dazed state.

"Hey, hey," someone said behind him, and he violently shrugged off the hand they settled on his shoulder. "Hey, it's me. It's Will."

As if that was supposed to make him feel better.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked, uncaring how harsh it sounded.

The blond held up his hands in a 'don't kill me gesture.' "Just wanted to make sure that you're alright. You seemed pretty upset."

God, we're all blonds this mother hen-y? If he pulled out a bag of granola bars, Nico would have to start calling him Jason.

"Well, I'm fine, so you can go back to your friends." He looked down at the yellowing grass.

"You are so clearly not fine," Will said firmly. "Besides, none of my friends are here."

Nico looked up in surprise. He could've sworn he'd seen Will hanging out with a baritone and a clarinet player.

He didn't say anything, though, and Will took that as a signal to continue. "Lou Ellen slept through her alarm, and Cecil got excused for a broken arm.

"You only have two friends?" His eyes widened as he realized how bad that sounded. "That came out wrong."

Thankfully, Will chuckled. "It's fine, I knew what you meant. Yeah, I guess so. They're my only two really good friends, if you don't count my siblings."

Nico didn't know he had any siblings. He filed that away for later. "I actually meant that I thought I'd seen you hanging out with more people."

Will shrugged. "I'm pretty friendly with everybody."

Right. Because Nico wasn't, and Will was just being a nice guy.

He turned away. "Well, you can go be friendly with somebody else now. Goodbye."

Once again, Will caught his shoulder, and Nico looked up. To his surprise, Will was blushing. "I, uh. I don't really want to be friendly with anybody else."

Nico wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

1 year before

"Speech! Speech! Speech!" the whole band chanted as Annabeth tried her best to shush them. They were on the track behind the Olympus football team getting ready to march halftime for homecoming, and per tradition, it was time for senior speeches.

AKA, the performance that most of the band was about to march through tears.

Clarisse stepped up first, or more accurately, into the middle of the circle. Her speech was short and sweet but somehow still inspiring. Katie Gardener went next, and then immediately after her was her boyfriend, Travis Stoll. Nico didn't think his speech was particularly sad, but his brother Connor was bawling by the end of it. Next to him, Jason was openly weeping.

Then, Grover went. Nico had never been particularly close with the clarinet player, but he was Percy's best friend, so they'd been in the general proximity of each other enough times that Nico was relatively comfortable around him. It still wasn't enough to make him cry at his speech.

It was clearly enough for Annabeth, though, as her face was swimming in tears when she stumbled into the middle of the circle, mace clutched in her white-gloved hand. "Grover, I'm not gonna be able to get through this now." She swiped a hand under her eyes.

"You got this, babe!" Percy said from the other side of the circle. Even from here, Nico could see the tear tracks from under his hat.

"God, Jackson," Annabeth mumbled. "Dammit. When Thalia did this last year, I really didn't think it would be so hard."

Of course not. Thalia made everything look both easy and painless, simultaneously the best and worst thing about her.

"Okay, here goes." She laughed. "I can't even begin to describe how much the band and all of you mean to me, and I can't imagine not being here next year, but I am so ready for it. The thought of not seeing the band room first thing in the morning every day scares me so much. It's kind of like an anchor even though it smells like sweat, and the walls look like someone rubbed rusty nails all over them; it's been a steady point, one that I don't want to give up yet, but..." She glanced over at Percy, a small smile shining through her tears. "I can't wait for our next adventure."

By the end of her speech, Percy was absolutely bawling, so Annabeth stepped to the side and hugged him, giving everyone else a welcome reprieve from the onslaught of emotion.

To his horror, Nico felt a lump forming in his throat. Why? He and Annabeth weren't even that close. He could make it through some silly little goodbye speeches.

Maddeningly, he tried and failed to swallow, each attempt seemingly bringing more tears to his eyes. This did not bode well for Percy's speech.

He really did not want to cry in front of all these people. He had a reputation, for fuck's sake.

Nico looked up and accidentally caught the teary eyes of Will Solace. The boy didn't look much better than Jason, but he somehow pulled it off. Nico tried to ignore the little flutter that sent to his stomach because just then, Percy stepped into the circle.

35 minutes since

Nico took a second to marvel at the situation he was currently in.

He was seated on a concrete parking bar at a highway restop somewhere in the state New York, and Will Solace was telling him a story about helping birth a goat at his grandparents' farm in Texas.

Now, Nico was and had always been an outdoorsy kid. Back in Italy, there was a small forest near where they lived, and he and his sister would go in there all the time to explore. He was never squeamish, either, constantly picking up frogs and lizards and bugs. At this point in his short life, he'd probably spent more time outside than inside.

But this was a bit much.

Then Will said the most horrifying sentence Nico had ever heard. "Do you wanna see pictures?"

He frantically shook his head. "No, I'm good."

Will had the nerve to laugh at him. "Of the goat, not the birth."

"Oh." Maybe he should've guessed that. "Sure."

That was how he ended up looking at pictures of a baby goat with Will Solace. He had to admit, it was pretty cute.

Will's phone buzzed with a text just then, and Nico couldn't stop himself from reading it before Will took the device away.

Lou Ellen

just heard about the bus. so glad i slept in today

It sounded exactly like something a best friend would say, not that Nico would know because he'd been purposefully ignoring the buzzing coming from his pocket for the last half hour. It wasn't that he thought his friends would be mean or unsympathetic; quite the opposite, actually. He knew without checking his phone that Percy had already offered to come get him and that Jason was sending words of support along with the rest of his friends, but he just couldn't handle that right now, not after this morning. Besides, he was actually having fun with Will and didn't want to ruin that with emotions.

Speaking of Will, he still wasn't quite sure what was going on there. The way he'd said 'there isn't anyone else' made Nico seem like a last resort. It didn't exactly make him feel good, but the piccolo player was refusing to leave, so Nico was kind of stuck with him, figuratively and literally.

While Will was tapping out a response, the buzzing in Nico's pocket finally graduated to the ringing of a phone call. Several sets of eyes turned toward him.

He sighed and picked up his phone. "What do you want, Jackson?" He wasn't at all surprised that Percy was calling him, but he was a little surprised Jason hadn't gotten there first. Maybe Piper or Leo convinced him to wait. Whatever.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Then, almost as an afterthought, "You're not answering our texts."

Nico took a second to marvel at his friends' inability to take a hint. It did wonders for the feeling talking to Percy again was giving him. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I can come get you-"

"You're not driving six hours for me. I said I'm fine." He appreciated the thought, though he'd never say that out loud.

"I wouldn't mind. Or I can bring you back here and you can stay the night-"

"No, definitely don't do that." He raised his voice when he heard a girl laughing. "Annabeth, don't let him do that!"

There was shuffling on the other end. "I won't. But if you change your mind-"

"I won't, but thanks for the offer." It occurred to him then that even if Percy did come get him, he wouldn't be able to leave without a guardian's signature, and that sure as hell wasn't happening. "Tell Jason I'm fine, and he doesn't need to call me." If talking to Percy was hard, Jason would be impossible.

There were more ruffling sounds. "Why don't you just answer the group chat?"

Because he didn't want to open his messaging app and see the last text from Jason. Because he couldn't bear to see all the supportive words when everyone was leaving him. "You're breaking up."

"What? Nico-"

"Sorry, can't hear you." With that, he ended the call and put his phone on do not disturb.

6 months before

When Chiron made the announcement that morning about section leader applications, Nico hadn't really been listening. He'd seen no point; he was but a lowly sophomore, barely better than a freshman (that was a lie). He couldn't even keep himself in line, let alone an entire section. There was no way he'd be chosen even if he did apply.

But the more he thought about it throughout the day, the more it seemed like a good idea. The low brass sections weren't exactly known for their responsibility. Actually, he couldn't think of anyone in his section he'd want to lead him, even the current juniors. (Except Hazel, obviously.)

Then, Percy pulled him aside at the end of the day and said, "You should apply for section leader."

Slightly disoriented, Nico looked around the dingy old tuba closet. There were sousaphones and tubas hanging from big hooks embedded in the walls, and there were drains dotting the dilapidated green tile floor. So much for not spending any time in here. He looked back at Percy's green eyes. "Okay."

"You're smart, commandi-wait, did you say okay?" Percy looked genuinely confused at Nico's lack of resistance, and Nico tried to ignore what Percy calling him 'smart' did to his brain.

He shrugged. "Yeah. There's nobody else except Hazel I'd trust to do it, and we need two."

Percy sighed in relief. "Okay, cool." The percussionist looked around as if he wasn't sure what to do now. "I was expecting a lot more pushback. I even made a speech!" Before Nico could express how much he did not want to hear the speech, Percy continued, "I was gonna talk about how smart and commanding you are and how much you've grown in the last couple years."

The words made heat rise to Nico's cheeks, but it was quickly replaced with a cold, bitter feeling. Why was Percy telling him this now, when he was about to graduate and move three hours away? And he didn't want Percy of all people to tell him how much he'd grown. He didn't want anyone to tell him that, but from Percy, it felt like a double edged sword.

The older boy had been in Nico's life since he first emigrated from Italy, before his life had completely gone to shit. It wasn't a time he wanted to ever think about, but this conversation was doing a great job of reminding him.

He remembered being a relatively normal, happy kid when he first met Percy, and that kid idolized him, and that turned into an ill-advised crush. He couldn't stop, not even when his sister died, and he blamed Percy. He spent a long time in isolation, so long that he couldn't see it was self-inflicted. He became the creepy kid that no one wanted to hang out with. It took the combined efforts of Percy and Jason to realize that there were people in his life that didn't hate him no matter how much he pushed them away.

Now, he was terrified that they would take that progress with them when they left.

So he said, "Save it," and pushed past Percy back into the hallway, and when he picked up a section leader application, he told himself it was to make up for all the free time he would have when his friends graduated.

1 hour since

"Are you taking anatomy?" Will asked, a bit out of the blue. They'd been talking idly about the parade, mostly just discussing which freshmen threw up versus the ones they'd expected to. Apparently, none of the flutes got sick, but a bass drum player did, and a tenor sax player had to drop out from heat exhaustion. Surprisingly, the tenor sax was a senior.

"No," Nico said. "Why?" Anatomy was so ridiculously far from his interests that it was amazing he knew what the word meant.

"We have a test on Monday, and I need to study really bad," Will answered, eyeing Nico's body like it was a real life study guide, which, he supposed that in a way, it was.

He sighed, resigning himself to his fate. "Fine, but no touching." He'd learned early on in his friendships with Percy and Jason that setting up boundaries like that was important, and sometimes people weren't even offended by it.

Will's eyes lit up, and Nico barely concealed his grin. "Awesome! We're going over the skeletal system right now."

Okay, so apparently they were really doing this.

He turned to face Will. "How do you want me?"

"Lean down. I need to see your skull."

Nico pulled back. "Excuse me?"

Will was smirking. "I need to see your skull."

Never before had Nico been so self-conscious of an internal body structure. "Um, okay." He leaned down and vaguely felt Will look down at him.

"Frontal, temporals, occipital, parietals," he said, almost like a chant. "Zygomatics, mandible, maxillas, nasals. Then the palatial, ehtmoid, sthenoid, and vomer are in there somewhere."

"In there somewhere?" he said, alarmed. "Shouldn't you know where-"

"The clavicle is here-" Will pointed to the top of his shoulder, "-with the accromion side on the scapula and the sternal end by your neck. The scapula itself is right there, and it looks kinda like a fucked up wing. The humerus connects to the scapula at the glenoid fossa-"

And that's when Nico stopped listening. Who knew there were so many parts to the skeleton? Definitely not Nico, whose skeletal knowledge began and ended at 206 bones total. He didn't even know there were multiple bones in the skull.

Will pointed to his chest and said, "Ribs."

Nico frowned. "They're just called ribs?"

"Yeah," Will answered. "What did you think they were called?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I thought they'd have a more science-y name. Like," he paused, "costole or something."

For some reason, that made Will blush. "Was that Italian?"

It dawned on Nico then that most people didn't know he was an Italian immigrant...and that he was definitely about to tell Will that he was an Italian immigrant. "Yeah, I, uh. I'm actually from Italy."

"Really?"

Nico nodded, already regretting his brief moment of honesty. "What bones are next?"

Taking the hint (thank god), Will started listing bones again, and Nico let his eyes wander.

It seemed that everybody had settled down by now, hanging out on their phones or just talking. A couple people were asleep, and there was even a group playing catch with somebody's hat. The junior color guard members were practicing with their equipment that couldn't fit in the instrument truck: tossing flags, spinning rifles, twirling batons. It was a wild sea of bright orange band t-shirts, and Nico kinda loved it, though he'd never admit that to anyone.

The orange band shirts were broken up by the purple and orange uniforms that a few shivering souls had donned in a futile attempt to stay warm. It wouldn't work; those ugly things didn't retain anything but sweat.

Under that, most everybody was wearing sweatpants or leggings with the unfortunate few stuck in jeans and even shorts. Rookie mistake. In cold weather, sweatpants and leggings were the only tolerable pants to wear under the marching band uniform, a lesson Nico learned the hard way while marching a football game in freshman year. The chafing, lack of mobility, and feeling of skin tight denim tucked into knee high, thick black socks was not worth the aesthetic. He himself was wearing black sweatpants, and Will was wearing dark gray joggers with - no way.

"Are you wearing flip flops?" The slim, navy blue shoes weren't doing anything to hide the other boy's surprisingly tan feet - he must wear them outside a lot, definitely enough to maintain the light brown color past summer.

Will glanced up from where he was studying the (apparently) multiple bones of the ankle. "They're comfortable," he said defensively.

Nico couldn't argue with that. His own three year old black Converse were ripping at the seams and covered in scribbles. At least his toes were covered, though. "Aren't your feet cold?"

Somehow, Will's cheeks turned even redder. "I don't really get cold."

"I-" he started. "How?" It probably said more about him than Will, but Nico regularly wore pants and hoodies in June. Even now, he was shivering slightly.

The red stopped spreading in Will's cheeks. "For starters, I'm not malnourished."

Nico's dropped. "I'm not malnourished!"

Infuriatingly, the blond gave Nico an appraising look. "Whatever you say."

Okay. Okay, so maybe he was a little skinny, and maybe most of his friends thought he had an eating disorder. But no matter how bad he seemed right now, he was doing better than he was 5 years ago, so Solace could fuck right off.

There was a little nagging voice in the back of his head saying, "He'll never know that if you don't tell him." It sounded like Jason. He ignored it.

Will got up and moved to Nico's side, clearly trying to change the subject. He pointed at the black-haired boy's spine. "Then the 7 cervical vertebrae with the atlas and axis on top, the 12 thoracic, 5 lumbar, and the sacrum ending in the coccyx. That's your back, and that's all the bones and bone parts I need to know."

Nico blinked. That did not seem like 206. "Okay." They just looked at each other, unsure what to do next.

Then, Nico remembered what Will said about his siblings and thought that maybe he could try some honesty, so he cleared his throat and attempted to fabricate some courage. "Hey, what you said earlier about your siblings being some of your best friends?" Will's eyebrows furrowed, obviously unsure where Nico was going with this. He plowed ahead anyway. "All of my friends are either my sister, my cousins, or their partners, so I think you can count your siblings as your friends."

Will continued to look confused. Then, he smiled. "Thanks. That actually does make me feel less pathetic."

"No problem." If anyone could make others feel better about themselves by being an absolutely wet cat, it was Nico.

"Does that mean Percy and Jason are your cousins?" Will asked innocently.

Oh. Nico probably should've seen that coming. "Yeah."

"Cool," Will continued, completely unaware of the minefield he'd just stepped into. "It must've been really nice seeing Percy and Annabeth today, then."

"It was precious," he bit out. "Hey, why don't we go do our duties as section leaders and check on people?"

"You wanna go talk to people?" Will asked, disbelieving. Nico couldn't decide if it was more insulting that Will had already clocked his fierce antisocial nature, or that he was so easy to read that a boy he'd barely conversed with outside of the last hour could tell he was lying.

"Yep."

Will gave Nico side eye but rose. "Let's go."

2 months before

"Good morning," Chiron said to the obvious displeasure of the entire band room. It was exactly 8:03 a.m. on a Thursday in July, and everybody in the room had exactly two things in common: none of them wanted to be there, and all of them had better things to do.

Sleep, mostly, Nico thought as he yawned. When Hazel had burst into the room an hour ago and forced him to get up, he'd nearly thrown his phone at her. (And he definitely would have if he hadn't been trying to turn off his alarm without getting out from under the blanket.) He'd managed to rouse himself, though, and valiantly make it here on time. He really should get a medal for that.

"Welcome to marching band. I know most of you know me, but for anyone who might be new, my name is Chiron, and I'm your band director. Mr. D, the assistant director, is around here somewhere." Chiron looked around as if that would help him find Mr. D. "Well, I'm sure you'll see him sooner or later." Fat chance. "If you look on the folder that was on your seat when you came in, it should have your name, instrument, part, and a barcode. Inside the folder, there should be 13 half sheets of music and one warmup packet as well as a schedule and sets for the first song. If anything is missing, let your section leader know right after this."

Well, shit, he thought. That's me. No matter. He already knew nothing was missing because he and the other section leaders spent three hours the day before stuffing those bastards themselves.

"Speaking of section leaders," Chiron said, and Nico had barely enough time to think of a few choice words as he remembered what came next, "I think it's time to introduce them. Now, your section leaders are very important. If anything is wrong or you have a question or are confused about anything, you go to them first, then a drum major, then me or Mr. D." Slick bastard. It had never occurred to him how that system kept freshmen from ever talking to Mr. D. "Drum majors first. Reyna and Jason, please stand and tell everyone a little bit about yourselves."

On either side of Chiron, Reyna and Jason rose from their chairs, maces already in hand. Reyna went first. "Hi! I'm Reyna."

"Hi, Reyna," the band echoed in a poor imitation of an AA meeting, because some traditions just never died, no matter how insensitive and unfunny they got.

"I'm a senior, and this is my second year as drum major. I play French horn in indoor season, and I did color guard my first two years in marching band." She had a very serious look on her face, the one that would end up scaring most kids into never asking her anything. They were lucky this year to have Jason because the year before with Reyna and Annabeth? Everybody was constantly confused and had no idea what was going on.

Jason waved. "Hi, I'm Jason."

"Hi, Jason."

"I'm a senior, and this is my first year as drum major. I play trumpet in indoor season and was section leader for two years." He looked over at Chiron. "Am I supposed to say anything else?"

The older man shook his head. "No. Actually, everybody should say less. We want to get on the field before it's too hot or some sport steals it. Flutes, you go."

Piper stood from her door at the very front of the band. "Hi, I'm Piper."

"Hi, Piper."

"I'm a senior. I play a variety of instruments, and this is my third year as section leader."

She sat down, and Will Solace stood up, blond hair as shiny as ever. "I'm Will, flute and piccolo. I'm a junior, and this is my first year as section leader."

The introductions continued for a while, all some variation of that, and Nico tuned it out, instead focusing on controlling his pounding heart as it got closer and closer to his turn.

It wasn't that he was nervous or hated public speaking that much. He was just an introvert. Yeah, that was it.

Then it was Hazel's turn. "Hi, I'm Hazel!"

"Hi, Hazel."

"I'm a sophomore, and this is my first year as a low brass section leader." She sat down.

Groaning internally as his heart attempted to bust his rib cage and bounce out into his open trombone case at his feet, Nico rose. "I'm Nico-" if the band repeated his name back at him in a depressed monotone voice, he would actually vomit "-, I'm a junior, and this is my first year as low brass section leader." He sat back down gratefully, already considering the benefits of giving up his new role. A cursory glance around the room told him that Jason, Hazel, Reyna, and Piper were all giving him thumbs up. Kill him now.

Introductions continued, though without Nico's attention, and they finally got to warmups. That was four pages of basic exercises that they normally did on the field, but Chiron was giving the freshmen a little treat this morning.

Once they were done, Chiron told everyone to start making their way to the practice field, so Nico stood, stuffing his rolled up manila envelope in his back pocket. Somebody tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see a little girl (Wow, freshmen were small. Were they always that small?) (The answer was yes.) with chunky black cornrows pulled back into a ponytail (He felt like he should get points for recognizing cornrows and ponytails even if Hazel was the one who taught him what they looked like.) holding a trombone.

"Excuse me-" she paused, looking unsure, "-Mr. Nico, where is the practice field?"

He laughed internally at anyone calling him Mister, and heard from behind him Hazel giggle as well. Then, when he processed her question, he nearly said, "Just follow the rest of the band," but remembered at the last second that he was in charge of this girl and if she got lost, he would be liable, and instead said, "It's behind the high school." When she continued to look confused, he said, "You can follow me," and mentally resigned himself to this kid becoming his duckling for the day. "Oh, and you can just call me Nico."

She beamed, and her braids bounced. There was no way she was even five feet tall. "Thank you!" she said. "My name is Macy."

He nodded, and they walked out the side door of the band, down the history hallway stairs and out the back door which opened into the student parking lot. He could see Jason's red Jeep from here, the car he'd ridden to school in. Including himself, Jason was driving five people to school, Nico, Hazel, Piper, and Leo despite all but one of them being over 16. Nico could definitely acquire a car if he had his license, but he wasn't ready to learn how to drive, and Piper refused to ask her dad for anything, so she was saving up to buy a used one. Leo just couldn't afford one. If he ever got one, it would probably be one he built himself. As for Jason, his dad bought him one for his 16th birthday (a week late because the man was an absentee ass). Thus, the Jason mobile.

They followed the curve through the back lot and reached the stairs leading down to the field.

A word about the field. It was basically a soggy pit that flooded regularly from dew, surface runoff, and the creek at its back border. Because it was so wet, the yard lines were almost never marked down, which made sets fun. The only sport that was brave enough to use it was soccer, and that was only when the actual field was unavailable. Right now, at 8:30 a.m., Nico could already see dew drops glistening on the green grass. Fabulous.

They walked down the stairs behind some trumpets and set their instruments down on the padded section for the shot put practice thingy since the first day of band camp was purely for introducing the freshmen to marching band.

Macy looked at him again. "How do you mark time?"

Nico blinked, unsure where she had heard that phrase already. That was something they were supposed to learn in fundies with one of the drum majors, and he was perfectly fine with that. He didn't want to teach these kids anything more than he absolutely had to. Then he remembered the section leader meeting yesterday.

We all have some big shoes to fill, Reyna had said, looking mainly at Jason and Leo, a certain blonde and black-haired pairs' successors.

Annabeth and Percy, Percy and Annabeth. Always those two. Even after they'd graduated, he couldn't go 10 minutes without hearing them mentioned. They were practically legends at this point. Everybody knew them, but nobody could be them. Fuck that.

He'd fill the damn shoes, alright. For himself and the band, he'd try. But he couldn't do it like them. He'd do it his own way.

Macy was still looking at him expectantly when he turned back around, and he stepped forward to the front of his section. "Okay, low brass freshmen, look up here 'cause I'm not doing this again." When all the low brass that he was pretty sure were freshmen were looking at him, he set his feet in position and said, "This is how you mark time."

2.5 hours since

They only ended up checking in with about half the juniors before sitting back down in their parking spot since they couldn't get past the color guard without getting hit with something. The people they did talk to seemed to be fine, though, so they didn't feel too bad about it, and Mrs. Knowles announced that a bus was on its way, fortunately. It was also around this time that some parents started arriving to take their kids home because they were just too impatient to wait apparently.

As they sat down, Will's stomach grumbled, and Nico realized he was pretty hungry, too. "I'm starving," Will said. "Think they'd order us some food?"

Nico raised an eyebrow. "You mean the same organization that has to reuse tape?"

Will snorted. "Yeah, I guess not."

Suddenly, Nico had an idea. "What's your McDonald's order?"

"What? Why?"

Nico already had his phone in his hand and the GrubHub app open. "I'm gonna order McDonald's." The band may not have been able to send food to them, but there was nothing stopping them from ordering stuff.

The blond boy must have seen Nico open GrubHub because he didn't ask how he was gonna get the food to them. "You're really gonna pay for McDonald's to be delivered to the middle of nowhere?"

"Hell, no," Nico said as he inputted his Happy Meal order. "My dad is."

"And he's ok with that?"

"Yep." Nico's dad was attempting to make up for 13 years of absentee parenting by giving his remaining two children free range of his credit cards. "Order whatever you want."

Will still looked unsure. "That's so unhealthy."

Nico did finally look up at that. "You some kinda health nut?" With his cut features and lean muscles, it wouldn't really surprise Nico if Will did turn out to be into those meticulous health plans, but he really hoped he wasn't.

Will hesitated, then shrugged. "I'll take a ten piece chicken McNugget and a Diet Coke."

Nico nodded. "You're getting an Oreo McFlurry, too."

"If you insist."

Nico looked around to find the rest stop number and highway sign, then hit submit. "Our order will be here in 17 minutes."

Well. He supposed it was called fast food for a reason.

Just as he was wondering what they were supposed to do for the next 17 minutes, Will asked, "Do you wanna play my piccolo?" Then, probably upon seeing Nico's face, said, "That's not a euphemism. It's in my uniform bag."

Nico just nodded.

"Cool." Then, Nico got to watch Will put his piccolo together (all two parts). His own trombone was probably back in the band room after taking the storage truck home. Lucky bastard.

Will handed Nico the delicate instrument. "Here, you hold it like this." He rearranged Nico's fingers so that they were positioned correctly, left hand in front and right hand in back. "Now hold down your left index finger and right pinky." Nico did as he was told. "Try and blow into the mouthpiece."

The mouthpiece on a piccolo was far different from the mouthpiece on a trombone. For starters, on the piccolo, you don't put your mouth directly on the embouchure hole, which is exactly what Nico did, and the sound he produced consequently was more of a breathy exhale than anything else.

"Blow over it, not right into it," Will said, already laughing.

Nico glared at him but tried again. Apparently, when one played piccolo, one also had to be careful not to blow too hard because that produced a squeak akin to Annabeth when she saw a spider.

Several heads turned in their direction, and Nico was brutally reminded of the first time he'd ever seen Will. He's been learning piccolo then, too, and had made roughly the sound Nico just did.

"Gently," Will said, still laughing. Nico did his best to follow Will's instructions, and when he blew this time, nothing happened at all.

"You're such a brass player," Will critiqued, eyes full of mirth. "You're trying to buzz. Just blow gently."

Frustrated, Nico thrust the small instrument back at Will. "Show me, then, if you're so good at it."

Will smirked. "I will." As soon as he put the metal tube up to his embouchure, Nico knew he'd lost the argument in more ways than one.

Slim fingers danced over the keys, producing a beautiful stream of trills, grace notes, and crescendos, and decrescendos that he recognized as "Killer Queen", and his lips-

Well. Best not to think about those.

As he played, Nico realized that he vaguely remembered from two years ago, someone said that some flute was the first freshmen at Olympus in 5 years to make state. At the time, he hadn't cared one bit, still overwhelmed by switching schools and the permanent move into his dad's house, but he wondered now if that flute player was Will.

When the song ended, he set the piccolo down, and Nico almost asked him to play another one.

Instead, he said, "Damn, Solace," and got to watch Will's ears turn red. "There's no way I'm trying again after that."

Will disassembled the piccolo and put it back into the case, zipping it into his uniform bag with his shoes and gloves. "Everybody's gotta start somewhere."

Not after that, I don't, Nico thought. "I'll just stick to the trombone." Shockingly, failing to play the piccolo did not dishearten him in the slightest. Then, he did something very uncharacteristic of himself. He voluntarily continued the conversation. "Are you really into music?"

If Hazel were there she probably would have chided him on asking a judgy sounding question, but to Nico it was relevant. In his experience, there were three types of band kids: those who were only in it for the credits, those who were in it for the atmosphere, and those who actually cared about music. Nico tended to bounce between the last two categories depending on the day (and the music) as did most people. He'd always assumed Will was the same.

But the blond was shaking his head. "Not really, no. I mostly just do it because of my parents. They're both really into music." Then, quieter, "I wanna be a doctor."

Nico frowned, wondering why it sounded like he was telling Nico some big secret. "Do they not approve of doctors?"

Will laughed. "Oh, no, they'd actually love that idea. I just haven't told them yet because they'd get insane about it."

Nico supposed that made sense, but he also had no idea what he wanted to do with his life and was relatively new to having a living parent that cared, so he just said, "Good luck in med school."

"Thanks." Will was quiet for a moment. "Do you have any idea what you want to do?"

Nico could have laughed at how perfectly timed that question was. "No."

Will shrugged. "Well, we're only juniors."

He tried, he really did, but he couldn't just not respond to that. "You sound like every other person who's ever asked me that."

"What else am I supposed to say?" he asked incredulously, waving a hand around. "It's true!"

Nico was saved from responding by their food arriving. He tapped Will on the ankle. "Get up. We gotta get our food before someone else tries to take it."

Turning to look at the highway, Will began to rise, and all the eyes in the parking lot that were latched onto the GrubHub sign suddenly turned to them. The jealous face nearest to them asked, "Is that for you?"

Nico smirked. "Yep." Then, he walked away, toward the entrance to the rest stop. Luckily, their bus was the only vehicle parked here, so their delivery person was able to park right at the front, keeping them from the majority of the other students. Even so, a brown haired girl wearing jean shorts under her band t-shirt (how?) walked over with a red haired boy in black leggings.

The car window rolled open, revealing short blue hair and a pale, round face. "Happy Meal and 10-piece for Nico?"

He stepped forward. "That's me."

Rather than hand him the bag, the delivery person flicked their eyes between the four teens. "I'm gonna have to see some ID."

"Seriously?" Nico said. "No one else is pretending to be me."

"C'mon, man. I don't wanna drive back out here if you're not the right person."

"Fine," he grumbled, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. "Here."

The driver glanced at his license, then shrugged. "Alright. Here you go." They handed over the takeout bag, and Nico gave them a five.

Before they could roll up the window, the brunette leaned on the driver's door and said, "I'll Venmo you 65 bucks to take us home right now."

"No." They started rolling up the window.

"Wait! That's 5 more dollars than you'll make driving around for minimum wage!"

Shockingly, they pulled out of the parking lot anyway.

13 hours before

"Who's the best band?" Jason and Reyna yelled at the top of their lungs, lifting their newest first place trophy above their heads.

"OLYMPUS!" 150 people shrieked back, and for that moment, Nico forgot that this was his last year with most of his friends. Everyone was hyped up on their win and the energy from a college homecoming that nothing else seemed to matter or even exist. For that moment, it was just them and the trophy.

Then, Chiron broke into the middle of the circle and clapped his hands. "Alright, everybody, the buses are here! Time to go home."

All too soon, everything else trickled in, and Nico remembered where they were. The NRU campus was crawling with people from various high schools across the state, NRU students, people living in the surrounding city that wanted to be part of something, and alumni, and Percy and Annabeth had barely been able to spare two minutes to talk to them. He could not think about that for a little while longer, though, just like he could ignore the creeping dread of going home alone.

After packing his trombone into the cargo truck, he filed onto the junior bus, definitely not feeling anything when all of his friends went onto the senior and sophomore buses.

4 hours since

Back in their parking spot (and what a wild focal point for this wild day, huh?), Nico and Will had a pretty impressive spread going. McFlurries to dip their fries in, many and multiple kinds of sauces, two Diet Cokes, Will's nuggets, Nico's burger, and Nico's new Mythomagic hellhound figurine? The looks they were getting from the remaining students were full of jealousy, Nico could tell.

"Thanks for this," Will said through a mouthful of french fry.

Nico waved him away. "It's no problem, seriously. My dad technically bought all of it."

Will's brow furrowed. "What does he do that he doesn't care if you spend-" he paused, counting. "-$20 on some of the most unhealthy food in the world?"

Nico shoved a French fry in his mouth. "He owns a chain of funeral homes."

Will's eyes widened. "Really?"

Nico nodded. "Yeah, Elysium Funeral Homes. You'd be surprised how much money there is in that business."

"How much money do y'all have?" Will asked, sounding skeptical. Nico looked forward to blowing his mind.

"He's a multimillionaire."

"What?"

Nico just nodded, enjoying the astonishment on Will's face. "Told you."

"You really expect me to believe your dad is that rich just from owning some funeral homes?" The other boy would have been more convincing if his voice wasn't wavering.

Messing with Will was fun, but Nico figured he should let him go now. "I'm sure the $500 million inheritance from my grandparents helped."

Will gasped, making Nico laugh, and the blond threw a fry at him. "You couldn't have said that from the start?"

Still laughing, Nico shook his head. "You should have seen your face."

"Jerk," Will said, though he was smiling. "What the hell did your grandparents do?"

"Oh, you know," Nico waved his hand vaguely. "Stuff."

"You have no idea, do you?"

"No clue," Nico admitted. "They died before I was born and nobody ever explained it to me."

"Really? Does Hazel or one of your cousins know?"

Nico shook his head. "I doubt it. They died when Thalia was a year old." And none of us have any discernible relationship with our fathers, he didn't say, so it's not like we can ask them. "All I know is that they were filthy rich, and somehow, my dad got the smallest cut."

"Smallest cut?"

"Yep." If he thought $500 million was a lot of money, Nico couldn't wait to tell him how much Uncle Zeus was worth. Before Will could ask about his mom, he said, "What about your parents? You said they're into music, right?"

"Yeah," Will said. "My mom's a country singer. You actually may have heard of her, Naomi Solace, from Texas."

Country was definitely not his genre, so Nico just nodded, pretending to know who Will was talking about. He'd google her later.

"Then my dad, Apollo, made a bunch of money off ad jingles 17 years ago, the two of them met, made me, and she's on tour somewhere in Nebraska, and he's somewhere in Western Africa working with Doctors Without Borders."

"Oh," Nico blinked. He hadn't known...any of that. Had he really been going through that this whole time? He said the only thing he could think of: "That sucks."

Will laughed humorlessly. "I guess. Dad's a bit of a slut, though, so I've got a bunch of siblings. I'm not lonely."

Nico stared. "Good, that makes me feel so much better."

Will just shrugged.

Gradually, a fragment of a memory tickled the back of Nico's mind, and he tried to shut it down before it fully formed. Despite his efforts, he remembered hearing his dad talk about a memorial for a teenager that passed through his company a few years ago, before he was permanently living with Hades. The kid was 16, the same age as Nico was now. Nico didn't remember a lot about him, but he did remember the dad's name, Apollo with no last name, because it was so weird, and that he had a ton of half-siblings. His dad had been stressed about it since the father was semi-famous.

Now, Nico wasn't sure what to do. It was so awkward knowing something about someone else that they hadn't told you, especially something so deep and personal. He wasn't sure how to proceed. Did he say something? Try to offer comfort?

Unsure, Nico took a second to study Will. It had happened years ago, before they'd ever met, so it wasn't like Will would expect him to know anything or treat him differently. Besides, if Will were still grieving, surely he wouldn't be so well adjusted?

No, that wasn't the right word. He wouldn't be so laid-back. Nico certainly wasn't.

Hold on. For better or worse, this was actually a topic Nico knew about, a situation he'd actually been in multiple times. With that thought in mind, he tried to think about what he'd want if their roles were reversed.

Yeah, he definitely would not want it to be mentioned. He wouldn't want to forget about her or pretend she never existed, but with some guy he'd only been talking to for a few hours that doesn't even know about her? He'd definitely rather stay away from the topic.

But, he had been so much younger when she died and so dependent on her. Nico had no idea what Will's situation had been. Were he and his brother even close? He mentioned that he had a lot of siblings and that he was close to some of them. Was Michael one? How did one even ask that? "Hey, were you your brother close before died? Also, I know you have a dead brother." Yeah, no.

Finally, he settled on an option that would reveal neither of their dead siblings but might still be considered socially on topic. "Hey, I get it. I didn't even meet my dad until I was 10."

Will glanced over at him. "Wait, for real?"

"Yeah, it was after-" he paused. How to explain this without talking about Bianca and ruining the pleasant atmosphere they'd created by pitching himself into a depressive spiral? Then again, if he opened up about her, that could incite Will to talk about Michael, and then Nico could pretend he was just finding out.

Okay, so maybe not the best idea. He restarted. "Something happened, and he ended up with full custody of me. Instead of caring, he stuck me in various boarding schools until he found out about Hazel. Now, I see him at least once a week." That was the nice version of events, the one that didn't make him want to deconstruct his own skeleton and burn it.

Will hesitates, then opened his mouth, and Nico silently prayed he wasn't about to offer an empty apology or a hollow assurance. "That sucks," he said.

Nico snorted in surprise at hearing his own words. "Yeah, it does."

They sat in silence for a moment, processing. This was probably the closest Nico had come to talking about or even mentioning his sister in years without having a meltdown afterward. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Instead of dealing with it, he gathered their McDonald's trash and stood. "I'm gonna throw this stuff away. Watch my uniform please."

Will gave a thumbs up, and Nico walked towards the big brick restroom where the trash cans were.

On the way there, he contemplated what it might be like to finally talk about - his breath caught - Bianca. Beyond that, he thought about telling Will about her. He'd avoided the topic of family for so long that it had begun to feel less real and more of a concept that didn't apply to him. His cousins and Hazel were his best friends more than they were family. His dad was more of a guardian than a father. There was no one else, and none of the people close to him ever tried to bring up Bianca unless they were trying to get him to talk about feelings which never went well for any party involved.

So was he really considering doing it himself? After the last few hours, he supposed it wasn't impossible. He'd already told Will more about his home life than he'd ever told another person. Besides, wasn't everybody always telling him that sharing his feelings would be good for him? Sure, he was a little jittery, a little nauseated, but he was also lighter, like just sharing the little bit he did and receiving validation instead of pity released some of the pressure that had been stuck in him for six years. How much lighter would he feel if he released it all?

The thought scared him. He'd lived with it for this long; who was he without it?

Nico reached the trash cans and threw the McDonald's bag in then went to wash the grease off his hands. While there, he decided to go to the bathroom since the bus would be there soon.

Locking himself into a stall, he heard two sets of footsteps enter and loud laughter.

"Yeah, I saw it," one of them said. "Freaky if you ask me."

"I know," said the other one. "That guy's so weird. I never understood why Percy hung out with him."

Nico's blood ran cold.

"Beats me," the first one said. "I heard Octavian bet Solace his spot as section leader that he couldn't get di Angelo to talk to him."

"Damn, that's so bad."

"I know, right? I can't believe it worked."

The two kept talking until they left the bathroom, but Nico's ears were ringing.

After all this time, he was really still just the creepy kid who no one wanted to talk to, living in Percy's shadow. Worse, everything Will said had been a joke. A tactic to keep his spot.

Nico wheezed, pulling on the collar of his shirt. He fumbled with the stall door lock and stumbled over to a sink, trying to breathe.

A deep voice cut through his daze. "Jesus, what did you get from McDonald's?"

He looked over to the boy at the sink next to him. It was just some random kid, no one he even knew. Was that his fault? Should he know this brown haired, brown eyed kid's name? He never even tried to get to know his classmates. Not once. He always felt like he didn't need them, that they could never understand him. This day felt like proof that he was right. They didn't care, they didn't know him. They just wanted to make fun of the weird kid.

He must've been glaring because the brunet held up his hands and backed away until Nico was alone again. Like usual.

He looked in the mirror. The same kid he always saw was staring back: dark hair curling beneath his ears, dark circles under his darker eyes, freckles spread across his pale cheeks.

He hadn't changed. The world hadn't changed. Everything was still the same. He was so stupid, thinking anything was different just because he opened up slightly to some random person who apparently didn't care about him at all.

He couldn't believe he'd considered telling him about Bianca, that they might have something in common that would help them understand each other. Will probably wasn't even Michael Yew's brother.

You know what, he thought, this is stupid. He watched his reflection straighten his spine, angry resolve piercing through his eyes. Nothing was different. He could just go back to where he was when the bus broke down.

Panicking about losing Jason was infinitely better than panicking about losing something he never had.

He walked back outside and was met with a second school bus, kids crowded around it. He almost joined them before realizing Will still had his uniform bag.

Actually, he didn't need it. Someone else would find it and turn it in with minimal hazing when he accepted it in front of the band with the other kids who lost their stuff.

Of course, that was when Will popped up beside him. "Hey, you ready to go home?"

Nico stared at him, trying to find malice in his bright face. Suddenly exhausted, he decided not to waste his energy. "You don't have to pretend anymore. I know about the bet."

Will has the gall to look confused. "What bet?"

"The one with Octavian. Don't act like you don't know." Nico snatched his uniform bag out of Will's hand. "And don't sit next to me. Figlio di puttana."

He stormed away and onto the bus, settling into the first open seat toward the front of the bus. He let his uniform bag pool on the seat so that no one sat down next to him, then he pulled his knees up to his chest and tried not to cry.

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