The world I love, the tears I drop To be part of the wave, can't stop Ever wonder if it's all for you?

Nico hated every moment of this loudest, obnoxious, insufferable torture of a party in Cabin 12, disguised as a celebration of winning Capture the Flag again. People there and here, running around, skipping, dancing, screaming, shouting, zipping through and hanging around in crowds, doing the craziest and the most random things.

He disliked all this noise, all this commotion, all this drunken foolish euphoria. Always all that insisted enthusiasm, all of those flashing and bright neon lights of the disco ball, causing him to squint.

He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you — you were one of the organizers, being a kid of Dionysus' and the one who came up with the idea. You were dear to him, more than he wanted to but he'd never admit it even to himself anyways.

So he was here.

And, given his luck, he lost you in the crowd.

He kept looking around, feeling so out of place as he searched the area for a glimpse of your hair or eyes or a tone of your voice, anything, looking like a scaredy cat determined to get away.

Fortunately, he noticed a glimpse of you around the improvised dance-floor.

Unfortunately, you noticed him too. And downright slammed into him on purpose, laughing as Nico yelped in surprise, both of you tumbling to the floor.

Gods, you're wasted.