Frank was always kind of fine being the forgettable one. The guy you’d skip over in roll call, the one people waved at but never remembered why. It was… quiet, you know? No pressure, no expectations. He’d made peace with it—or at least he told himself he had. Other people got attention, and he? Well, he got peace. Sort of.

“You forgot frank,” you said, shooting Leo a look so sharp it probably shaved a few years off his lifespan after he finished calling off a list. Leo blinked, confused, then shrugged. Typical. Frank, meanwhile, froze mid-breath. You noticed? No one ever noticed. Shit.

•

Later, as Frank sat hunched over his map, there was a knock on his door. Not the polite kind, either. It was the persistent, slightly-too-aggressive knock of someone who didn’t know how to respect boundaries. cautiously, he stood. “Annabeth?” He ventured. She was usually the only one who… well, tolerated him.

But nope. There you were, leaning in the doorway like you’d wandered in from an action movie. He blinked again. Ever since you showed up, you’d been… different. The kind of different that made his stomach feel like a trampoline.

“Uh, what’s up?” He asked, trying to sound casual but probably sounding like a malfunctioning robot.

You shrugged, like checking up on him was no big deal. “You weren’t at dinner. Thought I’d see if you were alive or something.”

He flushed instantly, cheeks burning like someone had lit a tiny bonfire on his face. “You noticed?”