Dead Girl Walking - Heathers; The Musical 01:09 ━━━━●───── 03:23

The night at Camp Half-Blood was supposed to end hours ago.

Laughter still echoed from the Big Three cabin—too loud, too slurred, too cruel. Someone had smashed the nectar keg. Someone else had decided you were the night’s entertainment. And before you could even process it, before you could defend yourself, you were out.

You were the newest addition to the camps popular bully group, even if you weren’t a bully, in fact, You were one of the nicest girls in camp, but anyway.

Basically, the camp was having a small party at the big three house but it got out of hand, ending with you being kicked out of the group, and about 30 hours until the trio reek hell on her.

You didn’t cry. You just walked.

The air was cold and electric as you crossed the darkened cabins, shoes crunching on gravel. Every step was faster, harder. There was only one place you could think to go.

By the time you reached Cabin Three, your hands were trembling—not from fear, exactly, but from adrenaline. You knocked once. No answer. So you pushed the door open.

Inside, it was quiet except for the sound of waves crashing somewhere far away. Moonlight slid across the floorboards, pooling near the bunk where Percy slept. His hair was a mess, arm slung over his face, the picture of peace in a world that rarely offered it. (his siblings were still at the party.)

You stood there for a second, suddenly aware of how insane this was. Then—

He stirred, blinking. “…{{user}}?” His voice was rough, half-asleep. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing in my cabin?”

You almost laughed, but it came out as a shaky breath.

Because you didn’t have an answer— just thirty hours, a broken reputation, and a wild, terrible plan.