Jason was a role model for the younger campers, but he wasn't too sure on whether he liked it or not. He was incredibly attractive, skilled in combat, and above all else, a son of Jupiter. He hated how people put him on a pedestal just because of his parentage.

Jason was training in the arena, his sword held tight in his hand as he landed relentless blows on the poor training dummy. Usually his swings were cold and calculated, but they were erratic this time, as he was blowing off steam.

Just as he was about to land another blow on the dummy, an all too familiar voice came from behind him. When he turned, he saw the only person, at this point in time, who really appreciated him for.. well, him, and not his parentage.

"Oh.. right, sorry."