author's note: THIS IS A REDO OF VOICE OF AN ANGEL, BY ME.

Okay, so I wanted to do a redo for this chapter, so remember to read it! I've changed the story so it's now in third person, so that's a little different. The length of this chapter is definitely longer, so I hope you guys like that.

Pay attention to the context clues I've given about the relationships between the characters, especially Poseidon and Percy, Thalia and Percy, Percabeth, and AnnabethxFamily.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or Heroes of Olympus.

You can't wait to see them performing. The strobe lights cover the stage in a arraign of colors, and that's when you see them.

They don't look very different from you and your friends, trying to play it off as normal teenagers. But you can tell. The way the two of them smile, like their sharing a secret no one else seems to know. The way they glance at the microphones just laying there, gives the jig away.

You want to wave, say hi for a change, but decide against it. Instead, you glance at the girl, and your eyes lock for a moment. Satisfied, you wink, letting her know you understand.

She taps the boy, and they both turn to you. The boy smiles, and the girl waves, and you know, right there, there's something special.

Percy couldn't be happier.

Here he was, on stage, just relaxing for once. No screaming fans seemed to intrude, and everything just seemed perfect in this moment.

Just him and his guitar, strumming some chords to the beat of the drums. And since the drums was his best friend Grover's phone, well, Percy didn't mind a bit.

"Hey, Perce, want a fro-yo?" Grover queried as he walked through the stage door. "Boy, does Los Angeles have the best frozen yogurt."

Percy took the cup full of yogurt in response, his taste buds exploding with joy. "Thanks man," he sighed.

"So, I heard someone's on the cover of Gods magazine," Grover referred to the fact that Percy had gotten front page on one of the most popular tabloids in the nation.

"Yeah, but I wish I hadn't you know?" His friend nodded with understanding. Swirling his spoon through the delicious dessert, he glanced at the clock. "Crap. We start the show in an hour."

"Well, then Mr. Pop Star, you better get your makeup done," Grover snickered. Percy blushed crimson. "It..It's not my fault they want me to look uh, prettier."

As he walked away, Percy could faintly hear Grover yelling, "Whatever helps your self-esteem!"

Truth be told, he loved Grover for the way he could joke around when they hung out, even though Percy was technically his boss, considering he was often rapping during Percy's concerts and albums.

"Oh there you are," a familiar voice said. He turned the corner to find his stylist, Hestia, waiting for him outside of his dressing room.

"I've pounded on this door for the past five minutes calling your name, but then again, I should have known you'd been with Grover," she said, eyeing the fro-yo in Percy's hand.

"Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly. "Lost track of time." Hestia only sighed, and shooed him through the door.

Percy watched as she sprung around the room, choosing out different outfits. "Hmm..." he would hear her mutter once in a while, "This could work...but then the shoes wouldn't match his figure..."

He never did understand why girls—and women—always were so picky about the clothes they wore. Clothes is clothes.

After a lifetime of waiting, Hestia bounded over to him with a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans, a blue button-down shirt, and his favorite black and white pair of Vans.

"So? What do you think?" Percy actually liked it. Simple and casual, but just so. "I love it. Thanks Hestia."

She beamed, "I just thought, As long as this isn't like that Mad Hatter concert all over again." He shivered at the thought. Now that had been scary.

"Anyways, I have to go to my show. See you later," he waved.

Though his show didn't start for another fifteen minutes, Percy could already hear the squealing of girls outside of the building. He pressed his ear against the stage door and heard whispers.

"Oh my gosh. Jess. Like, did you hear that cover of Percy's song Trust by her? Angelic Architect is so good...I wanna be her. Or maybe Percy's girlfriend. Yeah, that's cooler," he heard a girl say.

Percy tilted his head. Angelic Architect? Maybe he would check her out later.

He shrugged his shoulders, and waited for his cue to come on stage.

"Percy, your on in five." he heard a stage director say.

Five minutes later, Percy stood on the side of the stage, makeup touched up, vocal exercises run through, and microphone in hand.

"Yo, Los Angeles! You ready for Percy Jackson?" Grover screamed.

The crowd reacted faster than he could say the word 'hi'. The squeals, shrieks, and screams mixed in with chanting of Grover and Percy.

Grover walked past him on his way out, "Man, their pumped."

Gripping the microphone, Percy walked out on stage and instantly had to agree.

He shifted awkwardly, "Oh, hey Los Angeles! So here's my first song from my newest album, hope you like it."

The lights dimmed, and a piano began to play.

"Nah,

Oh Nah ,

Oh Nah ,

Oh Yeah,"

Percy began to sing.

"Oh, meet me on the dance floor tonight,

We can fly like the stars so bright

And our love will take fl-flight

So meet me on the dance floor tonight."

The drums started a steady rhythm, and Percy danced along to the beat.

"Meet me under the stars,

Where our love don't seem so far-ar...

Meet me under the moon,

Where our love will happen so-on."

Percy gasped, inhaling a big gulp of air before continuing,

"We could be together,

Forever and ever,

Only if you don't say whatever.

So come on,

Come on,

Let our

Love

Take flight! "

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,"

Percy smiled at the crowd, bowed and began to introduce the next song.

Two hours later, the concert had ended, and Percy received the usual rampage of fans banging on his door, begging for an autograph. After Percy finished autographs and pictures, all the fans had gone home happy.

But exhaustion had taken over Percy.

"Dude, you could have just turned some of them away," Percy's chauffeur, Charon offered when he had complained to him about the subject.

He was speechless. "That's what I thought. Anyways, here's some coffee and a muffin." Charon threw a brown paper bag his way.

"Charon that's really n—" Percy began.

"Yeah, yeah, don't thank me," He interrupted. "Being nice to you kid is not in my job description."

Percy sat in silence the rest of the drive, happily slurping his coffee and chewing his muffin.

Charon didn't say anything else, but that was okay to Percy. He always acted strict and tough to him when he drove him, but Percy knew he really did care.

"See ya later, Jackson," Charon nodded towards him as Percy walked out of the car. "Don't get yourself killed before you pay me, you hear?"

Percy tugged his lips into a half-smile. "No worries, I'll make sure of it."

After he no longer could hear the squeal of the tires, Percy finally faced his house and turned to walk in.

"Hey, anyone here?" he shouted throughout the house. Not a single voice rung out.

Tired, he sighed, and threw himself into bed.

"Night, Percy," he whispered to himself.

"He looks knocked out." Percy heard a voice whisper next to him. "No, I will not dump water on him. No, I won't do that either. Really? Draw a mustache on him? Now that is just desperate."

And that was when Percy shot out of bed, grabbed his bedside lamp, and swung it at the intruder.

"Whoa," the person yelled, ducking behind the bed. "I surrender."

Was that who Percy thought it was? To make sure, he reached over and hauled the figure up.

Hair that was light brown and curly, eyes similar to the color of mocha, skin that was light enough to burn in the sunlight, and stubble on his chin from just shaving.

"Grover, you scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?" Percy cried at his best friend.

"Heh, sorry about that. I was just talking to a friend of ours. She wants to speak with you." Grover said, holding out his phone.

Percy took the phone hesitantly, "Hello?"

"Hey, Percy. It's me Thalia, you know, your cousin." A voice answered.

He almost dropped the phone from shock. "Thals? Why are you calling? As far as I know, it isn't Christmas today..." Percy said.

"Yeah, I know we don't talk much little cousin, but this is urgent. Did your dad tell you?" Thalia whispered.

He frowned, "About what? As far as I know, nothing different is happening that I'm aware of."

He heard her sigh, "About him wanting to send you to a real school. In New York."

"What? But...that would mean stopping my concerts over here in L.A."

"I know," the phone seemed to muffle her voice, "But my dad told me Hades said you were stupid or something, and they made a bet. Your dad lost, and his loss was sending you to an actual school."

Percy groaned, "I'll ask him about it after this. Call you back later, I guess?"

Thalia, being as polite as she was, hung up as her reply.

"What am I going to do Grover? I can't balance full school and singing. I still can't believe you do half-time."

Grover only shrugged, "I'm not sure. Ask your dad first." His friend glanced at his Rolex, then sighed. "I have to go, but I'll drop by later." Then he was out the door.

Percy heard the door click shut, and fetched his phone off of the nightstand.

"Dad?" He croaked through the phone.

His father seemed startled on the other end of the line. "Percy? Why are you calling?"

"I want to know. Thalia just called me and said you were sending me to a school in New York. Is it true?"

His father's answer was with silence. "When?" Percy queried.

"Next week. I was planning on telling you, but..."

"But you knew I'd be mad, and you were right."

Percy hung up.

The week seemed to pass in a blur.

Before he even knew it, it was the day his father was to send him away.

Percy clutched his suitcase, frowning underneath the lousy get-up Poseidon had made him wear. A red baseball cap hung low over his eyes, and baggy jeans and a manga tee covered his frame.

"Flight number sixty-three, now boarding for New York," the peppy voice of a flight attendant announced over the loudspeaker.

Percy glumly waited as he watched the other flight members board the plane, twiddling with his thumbs.

"Last chance to board flight number sixty-three, please report to the boarding area."

He didn't want to go to New York. Not really. If he missed the flight now, Percy could always say that he missed the flight, that the airport had stopped him during their security check. Say he wanted to stay longer to stay under the radar.

While he contemplated this, Percy didn't realize someone was tapping on his shoulder.

"Um, excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you, but did they close boarding to flight sixty-three yet?" A girl's voice said behind him.

Percy turned around, coming face-to-face with a girl. Or rather, her shoes.

He didn't wanna be recognized, so Percy tried to make his voice deeper and a little husky. "Not yet...but their closing it soon. You should probably hurry."

He could hear her sigh, "Oh, thank god. My parents would kill me if I missed my flight."

Percy couldn't help but chuckle at her tone. "They wouldn't actually, would they?"

"Oh, my father wouldn't, but I have this stepmother, and boy is she nasty. She and her two little pigs, otherwise known as my step brothers." The girl bit her lip, "Why did I even—oh god, now you must think I'm some weird brat or something. God, kill me now."

Percy smiled. He thought her embarrassment was cute. "Hey, no worries, I have a pretty bad friend too. He just makes me want to rip my hair out and I'm not too nice around him sometimes."

She began to walk down to the boarding area, and Percy followed. Handing his ticket to the attendant, he sprinted after her to catch up.

"So...what seat are you sitting in?" Percy said, no longer caring that he hadn't wanted to leave.

"18A, you?"

"18B. I guess we're seatmates..."

"Annabeth. My name is Annabeth."

So? How was it? Notice what I did there with Hestia, since I felt she needed to be here? Anyone remember Charon? I thought it would be great if he was Percy's driver, because Charon usually brings the dead across on his boat. So I switched it with a car, with you know, the living.