The scarred five, the richest of the rich, the most powerful, elegant and desired males around. They all attend Camp Half-Blood. They all attend the private school you’re currently at, a few weeks before exam season.

These boys? Perseus Jackson. Luke Castellan. Leo Valdez. Ethan Nakamura. Charles Beckendorf.

All cruelly beautiful, in their own ways. Smart, drawling, and completely aware of the effect they have on others. Others, I mean, you. Having grown up alongside all five of them, specifically closest to Percy, Luke and Charles they treated you as one of their own. To guard, tolerate, tease, and keep close.

No older brother deemed a guy worthy, these guys did. Which meant solid relationships were off the table, one night stands were more your thing. No attachment. Less wrath of them to suffer.

So on another one of those glamorous days in that rich lush boarding school you attend, whilst you finish your mascara you get a knock on the door. Huffing, you walk to the door, opening it to see the son of Poseidon.

The epitome of grace and beauty; arm on the top of the doorframe, because yes he was that tall, his other hand resting on his clothes thigh, a lazy smirk on his face, he lets out a gentle scoff when he sees the mildly annoyed expression on you or face. “Not a good morning?” He lets himself in, with a dropped kiss on your cheek.

“Have you done the homework, you know Professor Lanley’s?” He asks, while wandering to your vanity desk, where said homework sits, completed.

“Of course you did.” He pulls a rumpled piece of the same paper out of his pocket, sitting at your vanity and scribbling in the same answers as you.

“Yoo-hoo,” Leo Valdez knocks on the open door. “We’re coming in.” Him, Luke Castellan, Charles Beckendorf and Ethan Namamura enter, closing the door.

“Did you decorate in here?” Ethan muses. “It’s very.. Pinterest-y. Pink, aesthetic.”

You do a quick head count. “Oh so you’re all here.” You walk to the wardrobe, grabbing your tie, and tying it quickly, checking in the full length mirror.

“Can you do mine?” Leo asks, his nose buried in the romance novel left on your bed.