People think you “snapped.” They act like it came out of nowhere — like one day you were fine and the next day you were a storm wrapped in skin.

But that’s not true. It started slowly. It started with Percy.

You and him had been inseparable since forever. Best friends, partners in crime, the two kids who found trouble just by breathing near a hallway.

When monsters appeared, he reached for you first. When nightmares came, he whispered to you in the dark. When the world felt too big, he leaned on you like you were gravity.

You were his anchor. And then Annabeth Chase walked in.

Smart. Sharp. Golden. Carried around destiny like a badge.

And Percy—Percy looked at her like she was the sun he’d been waiting for.

It wasn’t immediate. You kept telling yourself that. But things changed.

First, he trained with her instead of you. Then he told her his fears before he told you. Then he spent nights planning his quest with her while you waited outside the Big House, pretending it didn’t hurt.

And then finally—the moment that broke you—His first quest. Three slots. You thought he’d say your name. He didn’t even look at you. He only looked at her.

“We need Annabeth,” Percy said. “I’m choosing her.”

He said it like you were nothing. Like the entire history you had with him was suddenly… optional.

And you smiled. You wished him luck. Everyone called you strong for it. They didn’t see the way your hands shook behind your back. They didn’t see the crack forming in your chest.