Updated for rapflow! Sorry I've been so inactive lately!

~ the next morning ~
Third Person P.O.V.

I groan as I sit up in bed, the sound of me flashing colors in front of my eyes. I try not to make another noise as I squint my eyes shut.

I guess staying up all night and watching flashed of colors was stupid for my health; I hate headaches. Especially when I have school.

Noises, noises galore is all I'll come across at school; basketballs bouncing, pointers on whiteboards, pen on paper, gossip. With this headache, and all the distracting colors bursting into life and disappearing just as fast as they came... I might just give up now, before I throw up the first fifteen minutes.

I try to stay as quiet as possible, and get ready for school. I snatch the spare pain medication and take it with water once I'm in my family's kitchen.

My family; they don't know I have synesthesia. I don't think anyone knows, actually. I learned about it a year or two ago in art class, and was actually shocked. But no one else knows. Not even Percy.

I kind of feel bad, but at the same time, it's not their business, and it doesn't make me any more incapable. It's just... something.

I double-check to make sure my wallet, school ID, and spate keys are in my pockets, and my sketchbook in my backpack, before heading out early to school. My headache is pounding, but I try to ignore it. At one point, I march into a fast-food place and buy a water bottle, so I can sip on it and decrease this splitting irritation.

When I'm about twenty minutes away, I stop and wait for my usual bus. Hazel should be joining me in the wait soon. I take out my sketchpad, and draw the shapes of the blurs I see from the noise of the world around me, even if it's straining. Sometimes I wish I was deaf, but then I couldn't be the artist I love to be.

After about ten minutes, I feel arms around me, and smell cinnamon and honey.

"Nico! You didn't wait for me!" Hazel plops down next to me.

At her sudden yelps, I hiss (ehich also didn't help), and squeezed my eyes shut.

"What's wrong?" my half-sister asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I look up at her dark face, into her gold eyes, and quietly mumble, "Headache."

She mouths an "oh" and gives me an apologetic expression. She kisses my cheek in a sisterly manner, but doesn't provide any other physical contact for knowledge that it makes me uncomfortable.

When the bus arrives, I hold back tears. All these noises, all these colors... it's making my headache worse. Mainly the noises, but still.

Hazel mumbles, "Come on," as she drags me onto the bus, her voice a beautiful shade of lilac in the top corner of my left eye; however she means well, her speaking doesn't help.

Staying up all last night was a really bad idea.