★ 。＼｜／。★

𝗜𝗙 𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡'𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗥

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖎𝖙𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖎𝖘:
PERCY OFFENDS HEBE
(WHO'S SURPRISED?
NOT BELLE)

★ 。／｜＼。★

QUESTS ALREADY WEREN'T easy. Belle soon learnt that they were even harder after a full day of school with the impending homework waiting for her later — and that was coming from someone who enjoyed school.

Grover brought them to Times Square without a second thought. Without a doubt, Times Square was the noisiest and most crowded part of Manhattan. Belle tried to avoid it, but her life didn't work like that, so she always seemed to find herself back there for some kind of Demigod business.

He stopped at a storefront that Belle wouldn't have noticed at all. For about half a block, all the windows were covered in foil — which usually meant that the place had gone out of business or was super shady. However, this time, it was neither of those, because when she looked up, there was a huge electronic sign above the entrance. Belle had probably walked past it before, but it was easy to get caught up in all of the jumbo screens.

"No way," Percy said.

Annabeth shook her head. "She really named her place Hebe Jeebies?"

Grover sighed. "Afraid so."

"And how did you know about this place?" Percy asked.

Grover's cheeks flushed a light shade of red. "They have great licorice ropes. You can't pass by without smelling them!"

Belle didn't really smell anything, but then again, she wasn't a Satyr. "So it's a candy store?"

"No, more like . . ." Grover tilted his head in thought. "Actually, it's easier to show you."

He then pushed open the door, and Belle walked in, only for her eyes to widen. Hebe Jeebies looked like all of the cheesiest entertainment centers that were everywhere in the nineties just combined to make . . . this. There were rows of Skee-Ball machines, platforms of Dance Dance Revolution, and a bunch of arcade games that lined the dimly lit warehouse, making it a glowing labyrinth. (And coming from someone who had actually been in the Labyrinth, Belle meant it.) There was a candy station in the distance with dispensers to fill bags and bins of colorful candy. On the other side was a cafeteria with picnic tables, surrounding a stage that robotic iguanas were playing instruments. There was a giant ball pit, a strange climbing structure, a bumper car course, and a ticket exchange station with oversized stuffed animals. It smelled of pizza, pretzels, and industrial cleaner. And despite it being such a hole in the wall, it was packed with families.

Annabeth shivered. "I get it now. This place does give me the heebie jeebies."

Grover looked both anxious and hungry . . . which was his usual expression. "I've been here a few times. I've never found the other end of the place."

Belle watched the happy kids run around obliviously, the parents following after them looking just as thrilled. What was this place?"

Percy inched backwards towards the door. "Okay. I'm getting strong Lotus Casino vibes in here . . . like low rent Lotus Casino, but still . . ."

Belle hadn't actually been there for that — one, she didn't really know Percy at that time, and two, she wouldn't have been on that quest. Yet Percy had taken time to sit Belle down and explain everything that he had done prior to them meeting before the Labyrinth. Back when Percy first came to Camp, he had gone on a quest with Annabeth and Grover to retrieve Zeus' Lightning Bolt. Along the way, they had gotten stuck in a Vegas casino that gave them a million reasons to never leave, and they were stuck in time while the world outside moved on with time as normal.

"It's not a trap," Grover insisted. "At least, I've never had any trouble leaving. These families . . . they come and go. They don't seem to be stuck in time."

That was fair enough. Everybody looked modern — no strange haircuts or outfits. A family then walked past them, their arms full of stuffed animals, and left the building without any issues.

"Something still doesn't feel right," Belle admitted, reaching down and gripping the sunflower keychain on her belt loops that concealed her sword. Places like these always had downsides. "There has to be a catch."

"I don't know," Grover replied. "I usually just get licorice and leave. I keep a low profile."

"And you're sure Hebe is here?" Percy questioned.

"No, but . . ." Grover rolled his shoulders back. "You know that feeling you get when there's a God around and you can't see them, but you kind of feel like there's a swarm of dung beetles on the back of your neck?"

"Not exactly . . ."

"Also, dung beetles is oddly specific," Annabeth added.

Grover brushed the metaphorical bugs off of his neck. "Anyway, I've got that feeling now. We could ask the staff if Hebe's around. If we can find someone."

They moved into the arcade. Belle kept her similar grip on her keychain, glancing around.

"Oh, my Gods," Annabeth said. "Stackers. I haven't played that since . . ."

Her thoughts drifted away. Annabeth had been at Camp since she was seven, so she must've been reliving a really early memory. Yet as Belle continued on, she couldn't help but feel the same. She had been at Camp since she was nine, and even though she spent most of her time reading, she did see some games that Connor and Travis Stoll often forced her and Katie Gardner to play with them. And as they moved into the candy section, Belle could only focus on the peanut M&M's, which Connor always burned a packet of to Hermes before dinner each night.

Grover sniffed at the rows of licorice ropes that came in multiple different colors. A group of adults then walked past, giggling with tears in their eyes, reminiscing on their favorite treats and games from when they were kids.

"It's a nostalgia trap," Percy voiced. "The place is selling people their own childhoods."

Annabeth nodded, her gaze drifting around the place. "That makes sense, but a lot of places sell nostalgia. It's not necessarily a bad thing . . ." An employee then walked past, wearing a bright blue Hebe Jeebies polo shirt and matching shorts. She was messing with a wheel of paper prize tickets. "Excuse me, miss?"

The employee jumped. "What?" She turned towards them, only to reveal that she was just a kid. Her hair was wiry and black, decorated with pink barrettes. She had a name tag that read SPARKY, MANAGER, and really couldn't have been more than nine. "Sorry." Sparky took a deep breath. "The token machine is broken again, and I gotta get these tickets to . . . anyway, how can I help?"

"We're looking for Hebe?" Percy inquired.

"If this is about a refund for a defective game—"

"It's not."

"Or the pizza being moldy—"

"It's not. Also, yuck."

"Depends on the mold," Grover muttered.

"We just need to speak to Hebe," Belle cut in. "It's a little urgent."

Sparky scowled for a moment. "Past the diving cliff; left at the henhouse."

"Diving cliff?" Percy asked.

"Henhouse?" Grover added.

"She'll be in the karaoke bar," Sparky revealed, wrinkling her nose. "Don't worry. You'll hear it." Sparky then scurried off with her wheel of tickets.

Percy looked at them. "Are we really going to search out a karaoke bar . . . like, on purpose?"

"What?" Belle said, sending him a smile. "You don't want to do a duet of Our Song with me?"

"You don't want that, Beauty," Percy protested.

"Aw, come on. It might be romantic. Just you, me, and country music."

"Wow," Annabeth commented. "The epitome of romance."

"I'm just going to keep walking," Grover stated.

They eventually found the diving cliff, which was a wall of fake rock that could be jumped off into a suspiciously murky pool of water. A couple kids were doing it over and over again while their parents stood nearby, focused on their game of Space Invaders. They then passed the henhouse, which was an actual henhouse right in the middle of the arcade. On the floor around a red shack were hens and yellow chicks.

"Why?" Percy questioned.

"Hebe's sacred animal," Annabeth answered. "Maybe we should move along."

Finally, they found the karaoke bars. Sliding mahogany doors partitioned it off from the rest of the arcade, yet it didn't stop the music from seeping through. About half a dozen tables faced a small stage inside, where a couple older people were belting a song that sounded like it belonged in Woodstock. The stage lights pulsed a sickly yellow color and the sound system crackled, but it didn't seem to bother the singers, who threw their arms around one another and waved their canes as they wailed about peace and sunshine.

"Can we leave now?" Grover pleaded.

Belle glanced around before pointing to a booth on the far wall. "Look."

Sitting in the booth, tapping her feet to the music, was a girl about Belle's age — well, at least that's what she appeared to be. Belle could immediately tell she was a Goddess because of how flawless she was. Gods always did that in their human form — perfect complexion, perfect hair, perfect clothes. The girl in the booth was wearing a pink and turquoise minidress with white go-go boots, somehow managing to make it look good, and her hair was in a beehive swirl. Belle suddenly realized that she was channeling a fashion that would remind the people singing of their childhood.

"Lady Hebe?" Percy began when they approached the booth.

Hebe raised a finger to silence him, her eyes fixated on the singers. "Don't they seem happy? So young again!"

Happy? For sure. Young? . . . Belle wasn't so sure about that.

"Um, yeah," Percy agreed. "We were just wondering—"

"Please, sit," Hebe instructed. She waved her hand, and four chairs appeared on the outside of the booth. "I'll order us some pizza, and we can talk while the old folks sing protest songs."

If the arcade wasn't enough nostalgia, Belle got hit by a whole brick of it when she smelled her pizza. It looked normal, but it smelled exactly like the kind from Camp Half-Blood. She suddenly felt like she was nine years old again, sitting at the Demeter table with her siblings her first night at Camp after being claimed, asking the magical plate to give her pizza.

"Wow," Percy let out, staring down at his own plate of pizza, which was probably reminding him of something about the foodfrom his childhood.

Hebe smiled. "Wonderful, isn't it? Feeling young again?"

Being young again wasn't exactly comforting. Belle had been completely disregarded by her father growing up, learning to grow and adapt on her own while being constantly hunted by monsters. Not to mention trying to dodge every single Princess comparison that came her way.

Grover immediately dug in, eating his pizza slice with his paper plate and Percy's napkin. Annabeth kept her focus on the karaoke singers, now belting out a slow, sad song about where all the flowers had gone. Honestly, if Belle saw any flowers in the room, she would just use her powers to grow more.

"What a fabulous generation," Hebe said. "Even now, they refuse to accept growing old." She turned Percy. "And you, Percy Jackson, I assume you've come to ask a favor. Perhaps you're starting to regret turning down immortality?"

Every time the Gods brought up Percy rejecting Zeus' offer, they saw it as a sign of stupidity — or maybe an insult to Godkind. Belle glanced up, only to see that familiar look of mischief in Percy's eyes. She was way too familiar with that. If there was one thing about Percy Jackson, it was that he had an endless amount of sarcasm, and it often got him into trouble.

"Percy made a selfless choice," Belle interjected before he could say anything stupid. "And because of it, your kids got their own Cabin at Camp Half-Blood. You finally got your well-deserved respect."

Hebe narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps. Still, Percy Jackson, turning down eternal youth? You can't really want to grow old. Don't you understand how terrible that will be?"

Percy thought for a moment. "I mean, I guess getting older is part of life—"

"This pizza is great!" Grover exclaimed, completely interrupting him. "And the music . . ." He frowned at the singers. "Wait a minute . . . are they actually getting younger?"

He was right. Although the changes were subtle, their gray wasn't so gray, their postures were straighter, and their voices weren't as shaky.

"They come here to remember the old days," Hebe explained, gesturing around her. "Nostalgia is the doorway back to youth. I'm just showing them how to open it."

Well, that wasn't good. Belle straightened up, a shiver going down her spine. The last thing the world needed was people aging backwards.

"That's . . . nice of you," Grover voiced.

However, there was a slight tremor in his voice. No matter how good the licorice ropes were, Belle could see that Grover wasn't liking this place anymore. And, frankly, she wasn't either.

Hebe crossed her ankles, placing her arms across the back of the booth with a smug expression. "Is that why you're here, then? You want to know the secret of youth? I imagine none of you really had a childhood, did you? Always running errands for the Gods, fleeing monsters, adulting." Her expression turned sour. "Our Skee-Ball tournament usually shaves off a year or two. Or you can redeem tickets for various elixirs at the rewards station. I'll just warn you that if you're looking for something extreme, I don't turn anyone into babies. They do nothing but cry, poop, and throw up. The real childhood magic starts at around eight years old."

Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "There were no infants in the arcade. No one younger than, like, eight. Your manager, Sparky—"

"Stays in the main arcade. I am always the youngest person in any room, you see, even if it's just by a few months. I can't stand to be out-younged." She brushed away that idea, completely banishing it from her presence. "But I do prefer the teenage years."

"So you hang out in a karaoke bar," Percy voiced. "Makes sense."

She nodded, obviously immune to Percy's sarcasm. "Now, if you'll tell me how young you want to be, I will tell you what it will cost."

"No."

The air suddenly got cold around them.

"No?" Hebe repeated.

"That's not why we're here," Percy revealed.

Hebe's expression shifted to a resting face, which probably wasn't good. "Then why are you wasting my infinite time?"

"We're looking for information," Annabeth told her.

"About the gods," Grover continued. "A God. Hypothetically. I don't know . . . Ganymede, for example?"

Belle was going to shove the napkin dispenser in Grover's mouth if he didn't stop talking. She had a feeling it was already too late, though.

Hebe sat forwards, her yellow nails glinting under the light. "Now why would you ask about him?"

The singers finally finished their song. They exchanged some high fives before replacing their mics and shuffling offstage, heading back into the arcade. Now, it was just them, plus Hebe. Typical.

Grover squirmed under Hebe's gaze. "We're just conducting a brief opinion survey—"

"He sent you here," Hebe guessed. "Tell me, why would Ganymede do that?"

"It's not so much that he sent us to you—" Belle started to say, trying to keep the peace, because things were going terribly wrong.

"He has been acting nervous lately. But he wouldn't send out a group of heroes unless . . ." Hebe grinned in realization. "Unless he's lost something. Oh, you can't be serious. He's lost the Chalice of the Gods?" She then started laughing with such delight.

Percy shrugged. "Well, we can neither confirm nor deny—"

"How wonderful!" Hebe voiced with a giggle. "That upstart little witch is in so much trouble! And he sent you to question me because . . . ?" All the humor then drained from her face when she realized. "Oh, I see."

"We just wanted some background information," Percy said hastily. "You know, like who might have a reason to, uh—"

"Steal the Chalice."

Annabeth shook her head. "We're not implying—"

"You think I stole it!" Hebe shouted. "You came here to accuse me!"

"Not entirely!" Grover insisted. "I — I came here for the licorice!"

Hebe stood up, her dress swirling with light. "Heroes accusing me of theft! The only thing I've ever stolen is time from the Fates so mortals could enjoy longer lives! I care nothing for that . . . that usurper's cup! Do you think I would want my old job back, waiting tables on Mount Olympus, when I have my own establishment right here with all the pizza, karaoke, and bumper cars I could ever desire?"

"You're right," Oercy agreed. "Of course that's silly. But maybe you know someone else who could've stolen it? Or if you'd let us look around so we can report back that it definitely isn't here—"

"ENOUGH!" Hebe screamed. She spread her hands. "What did you say earlier, Percy Jackson? Getting older is part of life? Well, perhaps you should start that process over again. Maybe you'll do it right this time and learn some manners!"

The Goddess then burst into a storm of rainbow glitter, and Belle got knocked right out of her chair.

—  [  ♡  ]  —

OUR SONG IS A SLAMMING SCREEN DOOR

gifs by -wintxrwidow- !