Hello to all of my fans! I'm very happy that some people like my story. Thanks @TigerShadow24_SC and any others who commented, favorited, or just read my fic. This next section is a little jump away from Kat, mostly to introduce her two companions, John and Rowan. They've been stuck in the Lotus Casino for a very long while... I'd like to point out for a second that these different POV's were NOT written by me, but by my friends with whom I am collaborating with to write this story. Big shoutout to them! (they don't have Wattpad accounts which is why I got the honor of posting and promoting.)

I hope you all enjoy this next bit. As always, I don't own PJO, I'm just using its ideas to create a fanfiction. Stay sharp, my lovely Demigod friends!

~Blaze

Chapter 3

John's POV

The Lotus Casino. A place of complete paradise for all. While the primary entertainment was electronics and thrills, there was a small place in paradise for those with even the simplest needs.

Nearby the basketball courts was an overlooking room with soundproof glass and plain wooden floors. The room was empty for the most part, save the giant lumbering shelves of books and corners occupied with overstuffed chairs. Yet even the paper commodities went ignored by the room’s sole occupant.

Sitting by the window was a boy hunched over a table in deep concentration. No one wondered what he was doing (Why would they? They were far too busy playing with whatever else the casino offered) and that was fine by him. John gave a content sigh as he stacked the last card in his game of Pyramid. Glancing out the window for a moment, he began to reshuffle the old, yellowed deck.

Crash.

The boy fell backwards from shock, saving himself from the rubber and glass missiles. The rubber ball bounced off a shelf before rolling next to his comfy chair. Sound blared into John’s ears now that the soundproof window was shattered in pieces. Tinny, electronic noises and animalistic shouts from the court flooded his once silent sanctuary.

Feeling anger bubbling inside, John noticed the orange ball resting innocently by his foot. He picked it up, studying the black ribbed sphere.

“I’m sorry!” A boy yelled, walking into the room.

The black haired boy narrowed his eyes. It was one of the hooligans from the sports court. Of course he recognized the boy. It was hard not to notice that shock of green hair. Perhaps he had a disease.

“Is this yours?” John asked.

“Yeah it is. Thanks for keeping it safe,” He said easily.

So. He was one of those types. Those easy going, everyone-is-my-friend people. John knew too many of those types of people to enjoy their company. All in all, they annoyed him thoroughly and invaded his personal space. In fact, this guy might want to be friends. Of all things!

“Safe…” John echoed thoughtfully, an idea forming in his brain. He leaned over the table to the broken window. Bits of glass were still stuck in the pane.

Pop!

A deflated basketball now occupied the empty window cavity.

“Safe,” John repeated, resisting the urge to smirk at his genius.

The other boys’ cheerful demeanor peeled from his face. His eyes narrowed, the faintest traces of a smile could be seen.

John started to wonder if he had misjudged the green haired boy.

The boy walked from the room, leaving John to breathe a sigh of relief. At least he didn’t try to pick a fight, John thought. That guy looks strong. Or stronger than me at least.

John started to spread out his deck once more for perhaps his millionth game of Pyramid. He placed the final card with a bored sign.

~~~~~~~~~\o/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/\~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A good day or so had passed  ever since John had encountered the green haired weirdo. It could have been more or less but that didn’t really matter to John at the particular moment in time.

He was lurking in a balcony above the wooden rectangle that youths bounced orange balls on. John wasn’t what exactly they were trying to achieve by doing this, but they seemed to get awfully happy whenever the ball would swish into a tall ring. People here were so odd.

Yet John wasn’t really watching those queer people. He was busy watching the green haired teen playing a game against a bunch of older kids.  The boy dribbled the ball up and down with a bit of a smirk on his face. He then dashed at the left of the defense only to change direction at last minute to the right. The opposing team, caught of guard, helplessly ran after him only to see their efforts were in vain. The teen  whooped as the ball fell through the hoop.

“We won!” Rowan yelled, cheering as his team mobbed him with claps on the back and fistbumps.

The older kids glared and walked away from the courts, muttering things about cheaters and other things sore losers rant about.

John observed the session of foreign congratulations. There was no doubt the boy had skill but that didn’t excuse how OUTGOING he was. Outgoing to the point of being annoying.

He watched the victory fest for a moment more before arrogantly turning his head away.

 Rowan's POV

Fwshk!

The arrow landed perfectly in the eye of a dummy Rowan was practicing his skills on.  Soon, after his perfect shot,  he aimed for a loftier target, moving all the way back to the other side of the room, aiming for a mark on the ceiling he had made by throwing a permanent marker up at the ceiling. After adding a sticky unknown substance he had found to his arrow, he aimed, and fired at the mark, hitting the mark expertly.  Running towards the wall to gather speed, he jumped, doing an overdramatized flip, grabbing onto the arrow on the wall and pulling it off.

He landed on his feet, walking calmly towards his bag in the corner, which contained various other items, most of them which were firmly branded into Rowan’s mind.  Taking out his knife, he twirled it in his hand, and released it, making the knife slice into the dummy’s remaining eye.   Rowan suddenly noticed light breathing, coming from the doorway of the room he specifically reserved for his training. He turned around, and was met with the sight of the black-haired boy from before.  Rowan narrowed his eyes at the boy, wondering what he was doing in this room, after insulting him.

“Why are you here?” Rowan asked the boy.

“Am I not allowed to be?”  The other boy seemed to challenge Rowan, something that didn’t sit well with Rowan, since the other boy had given him a not-so pleasant introduction.

“Well, you did insult me before. Why should I be near a person who’d do that?” Rowan said, packing up his things and walking away from the boy.

The black haired boy huffed, which irked Rowan.  “No reason at all. Although I would think someone of your ilk would be more tolerable.”

He snorted at those words, not dignifying the other boy with a response, as he walked out of view.

 John's POV

A cacophony of smells floated through the air that would have made anyone tear at the eyes but somehow was pleasant. The source was buffet with over 500 dishes. However the room was crowded with all sorts of disgusting pigs- er, people.

The floor was almost concealed under a carpet of crumbs and all sorts of other scraps. For every crumb there was about five people making the room about a comfortable as a public restroom. A VERY public restroom.

Typically John would avoid this disgusting place like the plague but he had his reasons for being here. That reason being one of the many pigs in the room.

Once again John set his eyes on his week long query: the green haired teen that was currently gobbling down a chicken leg. Revolting.  From the way he ate with his hands down to the grease spot on the left side of his upper lip(not that John was staring intently at his lips or anything).

John nibbled on his lotus biscuit thoughtfully. He wasn’t even sure why he bothered to follow around the teen. Something to do?  That must be it if he was even willing to follow him into the horrifying depths of the buffet.

He watched the teen utilize the use of his napkin. So he wasn’t as piggish as he thought. Then again, even a pig knew basic hygiene.

John began to drum his fingers on the table of his booth. He quickly ducked as the other boy looked up in his direction.

Peeking back over the top of the booth, John saw the boy heading to a bathroom, his hands out in such a way that suggested a form of disgust. He chuckled as he saw the boy trying to handle the doorknob without using his greasy, slicked hands.

Once the door was opened, the green haired boy looked over his shoulder, sending John the cue that he had been detected. He fled further in the casino.

 Rowan's POV

Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan noticed the black-haired boy again. This was the  fourth time this week! Deciding he had enough,  Rowan stood up, careful to make it look like he hadn’t noticed the boy. He headed close to the black-haired boy, hoping to track him.  Suddenly he darted forward, grabbing onto the black-haired boy, slamming him onto the wall from the force of his lunge.

“Why are you following me? What’s your name?” Rowan demanded.

“I’m not following you,” the boy said, giving what sounded like a retort to Rowan. “And I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“If you haven’t noticed,  I’m faster, stronger, and a lot more paranoid then you are.  You’ve been following me, and I don’t appreciate that. That makes me nervous, and I don’t like being followed, nor do I like being nervous.”  Rowan replied, narrowing his eyes at the noticeably good-looking teen, “Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine. My name is Rowan.”

The teen pushed Rowan’s hands off his shoulders and ducked under his arms, before Rowan could react. “Don’t touch me. And I’m not telling you you anything.”

Rowan watched the boy leave, his thoughts running wild. His hair was shiny, his eyes were gorgeous, his body had felt nice against his own, and- Rowan stopped his brain from going further, clamping down on his raging libido. He’d eventually get the other boy’s name. He’d make sure of it.

John's POV

Once again, John was in his reclusive corner of the world. Or something close to it. His prior hangout still had that annoyingly broken window. Therefore he had to settle for a room remarkably similar but not quite the same. Such little differences irked and interested him at the same time.

Instead of passing the day with a hundred games of Pyramid, John had discovered a book of parlour tricks involving cards. Sure, he was quite horrible at it, but it was certainly more interesting than another dreaded patience game.

John stacked the deck just so, slipping a card up his sleeve as he did so. As he made a dramatic gesture, according to the instructions, the card flipped out his sleeve and clattered to the floor.

John grumbled angrily. It seemed he was fated to make every mistake possible before he would finally get the trick right.

As he bent over to retrieve his card, he heard the door to his sanctuary open and shut. Upon standing, John saw the green haired teen standing by the door.

"I've finally found you. It took forever, and you're pretty elusive, but I've found you,” Rowan said. He seemed pretty satisfied with himself which made John moan internally. Just as he decided to ignore the teen he started following him!

"How about you go find some business that concerns you because none of the such is here," John huffed.

The boy seemed upset by this and replied with a glare. Upon receiving no reaction, he mosied over to the bookshelves, disappearing amongst the tall, wooden structures.  

John breathed half a sigh of relief but still felt perturbed about that  Rowan guy hanging around. No matter. He'd still be able to practice his parlour tricks. Wouldn't that be something his mother would enjoy.

He diligently started to horribly fumble cards again, cursing as he did but knowing he'd get it eventually. Maybe he could trick the other teen into thinking he was some sort of sorcerer. That'd sure send him running!

After a couple hours of many failures and few successes, John realized that the other boy had still not left the room. In fact, he hadn’t even heard a single sound. Was Rowan trying to ambush him? John disregarded the idea and opted to look around. Maybe he died from his hair disease. That would be something.

He started walking the length of the room, peering down the aisle of bookshelves. As he was approaching the back of the room, he finally spotted Rowan. Not dead (unfortunately).  Instead amongst teetering towers of books. John stood there for a moment, ogling at the sight. The other boy looked up and noticed him standing there.

“What do you want? I’m busy.” Rowan said, “Tell me your name or I’m going back to my reading.”

“Why do you want to know my name?” John asked.

“Because, I need to call you something other than black-haired boy. Before I start calling you John Doe.” Rowan replied snarkily.

John stiffened, “Wh-what? What did you call me?”

“John Doe.” Rowan replied, a little bit less snarkily.

“How did you know my name?” John asked, feeling perturbed, “Are you a mind reader?”

“No. I don’t. Your name is John Doe?” Rowan replied with confusion. “That’s what unknown people are called, who don’t have names. “

“Oh,“Well, forget I said anything.” John said, feeling slightly ashamed of having so quickly losing his facade. In efforts to cover up his slip he hastily said, “Well? What do you think you’re doing?”

“ I’m reading. What does it look like I’m doing?” Rowan answered, looking away from the book, giving John a questioning look.

“Trying to look somewhat intelligent,” John snarkily replied. Since he had decided to finally give up his name, the least he could do is keep up his guard against any ‘friendly’ advances.

It was hard to tell what exactly Rowan wanted anyway.  At first John just thought he was lonely, or at least the type that needed to constantly be around people but now he wasn’t so sure. Rowan’s pursuits in following him certainly shot down the theory. Maybe he wanted revenge? John could see that happening since he had a talent for ticking people off. Besides… that green haired guy was more than capable enough to take him if he so wanted to.

“Jerk,” Rowan spat, now ignoring John in favour of his book.

He pursed his lips, feeling slightly miffed by the lack of response. What John wanted was to provoke him in some way.  Not just a “jerk” as Rowan continued on his merry way.

“Che, do what you want,” John huffed, “Just try not to burn any brain cells while you’re trying to process those big words.”

He turned away from the boy, pausing to see if he achieved a retaliation.

Rowan abruptly looked up his book, his eyes flashing with anger. John instinctively tensed only to see the emotion drain from his face. Instead he looked fairly calm and casually asked, “I wonder why you’re so interested in me. You don’t talk to anyone else, so why am I so special?”

“Wh-what?” John sputtered, “I’m not interested in you! You annoy me and invade my space. The only thing ‘special’ about you is your absurd green hair!”

“Oh really? Then why are you sputtering?” He questioned, a cocky smile on his face.

“Be-because,” John stopped himself to calm his speech, “Because you annoy me!” John turned away once more as he felt a heat spread across his cheeks.

“Riiight,” Rowan called back.

John spun around again to face Rowan, “There is no ‘right’, there’s only the truth which is that you’re annoyingly cheeky!”

“The truth is that you look great in those pants,” Rowan said with a wink and smile.

“You-! Begone with you!” John ordered, his face flushed bright red.

Rowan got to his feet, smirking as he did. John shivered internally as he felt the other boy’s eyes trace over his body. Rowan winked and left the room, leaving John with the trepidation that this would not be their last encounter.

 Rowans POV

Rowan plopped all of the ingredients he scrounged around for on the table in his mini kitchen. He was lucky to have a room with an actual kitchen, which was a huge plus for him, since he loved to cook. He washed his hands, rolled up his sleeves, tied on an apron and started to work on his pastries.

Soon, Rowan began the comforting routine of mixing and adding ingredients, following the recipe from memory. Finally, his cookies were done. He ate a cookie, and plated the rest, leaving them to the side as he started on another pastry.

Rowan heard someone coming down the hallways. He stopped to listen, confused. No one ever came into this hall. His room was private, which had been a request the hotel had surprisingly given to him. It had never happened before.  What was even weirder was the fact that the person was coming closer and closer to his room.

Rowan used a rolling pin, in his helpfully stocked kitchen, to roll out the dough for the pie he was going to make. He was concentrating so much he almost missed the person attempting to sneak up in him. He hid his smile, and pretended not to notice the intruder coming in to his room.

Rowan could almost sense the other person coming towards him. He believed the other person wouldn’t hurt him.

“Where are you going? Have a bite to eat.” Rowan said, looking up and spotting John. He ignored his pie for a moment, beckoning John closer to him. Rowan produced the warm plate of cookies, shoving them into John’s hands. “For you.”  

“I-” Rowan could see John trying to process his gift. He was kind of declaring his thoughts to John, in the form of chocolate chip cookies.

John took a cookie from the plate and muttered a “thank you” as he bit into the soft cookie.

“Take them. They’re all yours.”  Rowan gave a grin as he was actually using his cooking to feed someone else, and not just himself. Besides, this gave him an excuse to be near John, and secretly declare his intentions to John in the form of cookies.

John gave a huff, which Rowan thought was adorable.“I’m not some pig that’s going to eat a bunch of cookies in one sitting.”

“You eat the cookies a little at a time. I just like making too much food. Do you want a taste of pie when it’s done?” Rowan asked John, going back to making the pie.  

“What kind of pie?” John asked in a not-so pleasant tone.

“Any kind you want.  I have fresh, hand picked fruit and spices. I can make the perfect pie.” Rowan said, not realizing he actually quoted a cookbook he had used early in his life.

John cocked his head and smirked, “How about a Boston Cream Pie?”

“Of course, sexy. Anything for you.” Rowan said, switching out the ingredients to make the pie, chuckling at John.  If he tried to out-flirt him, then he was out of luck because Rowan would take it as far as he could.

“Why must you insist on saying on these vulgar things?” John muttered, “It’s completely inappropriate.”

“You make it too easy.” Rowan smirked. “But that implies that you do not believe you are sexy, which in fact, you are.”  

“J-just shut up and make your pie stupid,”  John  said, sounding “annoyed.” To Rowan, he just sounded flustered.

Rowan just smiled his cheeky smile, creating the cream, the chocolate sauce and the dough, soon assembling the pie into a perfect structure. Rowan put the pie in the oven, noted the time, and turned back to John.   He walked closer to John,  noting how he made the other boy nervous. He leaned his face close to John’s and gave him a peck on the cheek, more than he’d ever dare to do normally. He held the kiss, testing the waters to see how long John could stand the kiss.

“Ding!” The timer on his oven went off. Rowan went back to his pie, ducking down under the table to check on the pie and hide his red cheeks.  

John’s mouth was hanging agape. Rowan could see he was trying to reboot himself.  “What was that for?!”

“Because you’re infuriatingly sexy.” Rowan responded, composing himself and popping out from under the table.  Maybe he had miscalculated and John wasn’t bisexual.

“You say those things how do I even know you mean them?  For all I know you could have some weird ulterior motive,” John said. Rowan narrowed his eyes at him, becoming more and more insulted.

Rowan threw his hands in the air, becoming frustrated. How could he have ulterior motives? “Take the pie  and go.” Rowan said, shoving the pie into John’s hands, pushing him out the door.

“No wait!” John yelled. Rowan’s eyebrow raised in skeptic surprise as John actually turned around.

“What?” Rowan asked John, stepping away from him, not wanting him to interpret anything he did as being due to an ulterior motive.

“I’m sorry. I guess I’ve just been being a bit paranoid but I can’t really help it. You’re about the oddest person I’ve ever met.” John seemed to actually mean what he said, making Rowan’s prickliness subside.

“Well, I guess that changes things then.” Rowan replied with a soft smile.  His hair alone stood out to people.    

“Now tell me. Do plan on making me fat?” John asked, gesturing to the plate of cookies and cake in his hands. At those words, Rowan started to chuckle, none too softly.

“That would be correct, if I gave you chocolate cake. The icing is actually half the calories and the icing is bittersweet. You eat a little a day then you come back for more!” Rowan replied.

“What are calories?” John looked confused when he mentioned the word, as if Rowan had said something in Greek.

“Calories is basic chemistry. It’s the amount of energy it takes to raise water to 1 degree Celsius.” Rowan explained.  It was fun being a know-it all. Especially when he had to struggle with the subject on his own using a textbook from the library.

“Huh, I wonder why I’ve never heard of that before. Thanks for the cake,” John said, popping a piece in his mouth, in what Rowan thought was a sexy manner.

“It’s the 1980s. How have you not heard of this?” Rowan asked John, looking at him, confused.

“1980s? What are you talking about? It’s only 1840….something…. Maybe it’s 1850 now…” Rowan looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was a sociopath.

“No, it’s definitely the 1980s. “ Rowan looked around for something that would prove his point. “Aha! You’ve never seen this, have you!” Rowan said, dragging him into his room to show John the TV.

“I have,” John said, “Around the saloon. I didn’t know what they were so I didn't bother with them.” Saloon? Obviously something must be up with this guy, who didn’t seem to like showing emotions.

“Look at this.” Rowan said, showing John how to work the television, turning it on for John to see, flipping through the channels, and setting it on an old movie.

“When was this invented?” Rowan almost laughed at John, and his complete immersion into the show.

“Around the 1920s.” Rowan said, flipping through the channels until he settled upon I Love Lucy, secretly one of his favorite shows, even though it had ended years ago. “You’ve missed out, you… 130 year old man.”  Rowan said, quickly calculating his approximate age.

“Clearly,” John looked enchantedly at the screen. He looked adorable, like a small child watching television.

“WAIT A GODDAMNED MINUTE. You’re at least 100 years old. I’m talking to a sexy 130 year old man who shouldn’t even be here!” Rowan said, starting to freak out.  “How the hell can a hotel afford to keep people in here for free? Plus, they let me have free expensive ingredients! The finest flour, the freshest fruit and the best songs all the time!”

An employee of the Lotus Casino suddenly appeared next to the boys holding a tray. “Are you alright?”

“Urm, yeah, I’m fine,” John answered, “I’m not too sure about him though. He thinks it’s the 1980s.”  Rowan almost growled at him, wanting to tackle John and throttle him.

The employee nodded, “How about you have a lotus biscuit? It’ll help soothe your nerves.” Rowan didn’t bother to clearly look in the other man’s direction, though he usually paid better attention to the wait staff. This time, he was too angry and confused to do so.

“How are you going to explain away a freaking television? AND THE FACT THAT IT’S THE 1980’S!” Rowan asked, swiping a biscuit and chomping down angrily on it. barely noticing the Lotus Hotel’s staff.

“I think I’m fine. I have all these cookies and things after all.” Rowan glared at John, who seemed to be ignoring his COMPLETELY VALID POINT.

A change seemed to come over Rowan, transforming him in front of John’s eyes. His anger left him, and he forgot just what he was angry about. “Hey, want to watch TV with me?” Rowan asked, as if nothing had happened, snagging a cookie and standing extremely close to John.

John moved away from Rowan and his almost dopey face “Thank you for the cookies.” He spoke after nibbling on a piece of his own flower.

The employee nodded and walked away, leaving John and Rowan the sole occupants of the hallway.

“Well, I guess it’ wouldn't hurt to watch a little ‘TV’. Just don’t try anything,” John warned. Rowan. Rowan merely gave him a smile, inviting him back to his room.