Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii guys! I did not fall off the face of the earth! Yay! How are you? This is my second (actual) fic and it's way better than my first one, which was horribly inaccurate and had some overriding plot lines. This one will be a lot more fun to write and for you guys to read.
Enjoy!
Annabeth
Annabeth can't walk through her apartment without seeing Luke Castellan.
Pictures of him hung in the hallways. Her bedroom walls were painted to look like his eyes. Memories, like an unwelcome guest, sat on every piece of furniture she owned. There was even a set of silverware and a mug for him in the kitchen.
Annabeth had considered doing a symbolic/spiritual breakup purging that appeared in the Herald, and then decided that nothing good came out of the magazine she worked at. Besides, she'd need to buy a whole other house in order to "thoroughly cleanse the soul of dirty male influence".
But she could never stand to be at home when it was like this. So she turned to something she could easily immerse herself in: work.
This required a complete change in her schedule, though. Work started at eight, and she changed her alarm to an hour and a half beforehand instead of 7:50. It seemed like a great idea and all before Annabeth couldn't wake up that morning.
She wallowed in bed for about ten minutes before her internal debate dragged her out of bed. In the bathroom, she tossed the fancy passion fruit and flower soap that Luke liked into the trash can and unburied a bar of white soap from the sink cabinet. After the shower she smelled neat and clean, like a quiet girl who always did what she was told to. At least that was what Annabeth was hoping to achieve. Her days of slacking off and daydreaming about Luke were over.
At her closet she decided to pick an outfit that mimicked what the other girls at the magazine wore. That included a crisp button-down, a dark pencil skirt, and silky stockings. While a lot of the girls wore kitten heels, Annabeth had enough of high heels from dating Luke and decided to go with a pair of flats instead.
In the mornings she normally had a hot dog or a soft pretzel from a park on her way to work, but Annabeth decided to assemble a full breakfast. She got a croissant from the bakery down the block, a steaming cup of coffee from her favorite cafe, and even folded an ancient napkin under her fork. She ate slowly, since she had plenty of time, and then strolled down the streets to the Herald's work building.
Annabeth had to stifle her laughter when Marissa, the girl at the front desk, openly gawped as she came in early. Annabeth flashed the girl a small grin and headed for the elevator.
She had planned to spend the extra twenty minutes getting a head start on her article, but instead used it to trash all the pictures of Luke taped to her laptop and scratch out all the date nights labeled on her calendar. She was so focused at ripping up all the little notes from Luke that were once adoringly stored in a cupboard that she didn't notice all her coworkers staring at her in shock as they went into the office.
Finally she cleared up her work area and started typing up the mind-numbing article assigned to her. She almost dozed off in the middle of it when heels clicked to a stop by her desk. "Hello?" A nasal voice asked impatiently.
Annabeth looked up to see Drew, the head editor's assistant. She was scowling and looking mad as usual. "What do you want?" Annabeth asked boredly.
"Hera wants to see you," Drew replied smugly. "Come on, get to it."
Annabeth heaved a sigh and trudged over to the main office. There was a wide desk in the middle that was impossibly neat. One wall hosted a filled bookshelf, and the other had pictures of Hera herself. The far wall was a window, but the curtains were always drawn. Hera preferred things to be dark.
"Annabeth," the editor greeted coolly, waving a hand for Drew to disappear. The grouchy assistant disappeared without a word, because even she was afraid of the head editor. Hera was impeccably dressed as usual, with her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. She always applied heavy makeup, but it didn't mask her pointy nose or thin lips. The peacock blue eyeshadow, especially, made her dark-enough-to-be-black eyes more frightening instead of appearing youthful.
Annabeth wordlessly took a seat in one of the small plastic chairs that were meant to make Hera's staff feel like kindergarteners. Her heart beat frantically in her rib cage.
"I've been tracking your work. You really need to improve, Annabeth." The editor leaned in closer and Annabeth was assaulted by thick floral perfume. "You're holding a very precious position on this magazine, and there's a long list waiting to take your place. Don't waste it. I know that if you truly put in your best effort, well…" Hera paused for a few seconds. "You would do better," she finished awkwardly.
Annabeth blushed, but instead of embarrassment, she felt anger spark in her veins. Hera was just under the illusion that people actually read the Herald. If Annabeth dropped out, no one would take her place willingly. Besides, who cared about doing the best they could? Everyone in staff wrote sucky articles.
Hera was continuing her lecture, but Annabeth chose to tune her out. She just sat back in her chair and waited for her to finish.
"Are you even listening?" Hera snapped.
Annabeth blinked, before widening her eyes innocently. A small voice from the back of her head sneered in disgust at her current actions, but she ignored it. "Yes, of course." She struggled to keep her voice calm.
Hera sighed like the world was weighing on her shoulders, or perhaps, more accurately, like she was an angst-filled teenager. "You're dismissed from my office, Ms. Chase. I sent two new articles to your inbox. Please improve your performance, or find somewhere else where you can slack off and still get paid."
Annabeth nodded and trudged out of the office. Drew smirked at her frown, but Annabeth ignored her. Through the burning ball of defiance in her throat she felt guilt and panic sear through her nerves. Even if she hated her job didn't mean it wasn't her only source of money. Nostalgia murmured in her ears. Back when she was a freshman in college her future was rich with opportunities. She had outstanding grades that got her a scholarship to college and university, no doubt it would pave the path to being an architect, her dream job. And then Luke came into her life.
Annabeth was so drawn by those eyes of those that glittered in the sun and warmed her to the core in the coldest of winters. She wanted to get to know him, and when he started liking her back, her soul literally sang with joy. She was so focused on falling in love her grades were abandoned, and now she was working at a minimum-wage magazine. Gag.
Annabeth finally reached her table and opened up a new document on her laptop, refreshing the page with her inbox in hopes that the article be shown through the horrid Wi-Fi. After an era later, the assignments popped up. One article about healthy living by making completely vegan and fat-free tacos. The other one was about how studies say climbing was not so great for your knees. Annabeth stifled a yawn and began typing.
The rest of the week was the same day repeated over and over, minus the meetings. Hera did not have the patience to deal with someone that many times. Annabeth finished the two horrific articles along with the earlier one, received new ones, and then were handed back printed copies of the taco one with elegant pink cursive looping all over the words. It was Drew who edited them. Figures.
Finally, on Friday afternoon, Annabeth decided she needed a break. She went to a grocery store, splurged changed for a tub of ice cream, and settled herself on the beat-down sofa. But immediately as she took a seat memories washed over her. Luke sitting beside her, his arm wrapped around her like a blanket. Luke popping pieces of popcorn into his mouth and playing with her hair. She remembered too vividly when he once hooked his calf around hers and she collapsed into his chest, heart racing. In fact, Annabeth was once leaning on him, lifting a tub of the same brand of rocky road up to his mouth.
She shuddered at the memories and locked herself in the bathroom, taking out a pack of bath sea salts from a cupboard and inhaling it. The smell of the sea seeped through her, smoothing out her tense limbs. Sea salt, or anything that smelled like the sea soothed her. She sank into the side of the bathtub, clutching the salts to her chest. All of a sudden, her only reminder of the ocean seemed like the most precious thing she owned.
There! Chapter one done! Argh I'm pushing back so much homework for this.
Au revoir,
Pride-and-loyalty