A/N: Hey guys!
Full Summary: "And who might you be?" he drawled, looking at me like I was something he scraped off the bottom of my shoe. "Annabeth Chase," I answered, "and I'm your head set designer. I can make you dangle off a cliff for the entire movie." He laughed, removing his sunglasses to reveal penetrating sea green eyes. "You wouldn't do that to me," he smiled knowingly. "I-I," I stuttered at his confidence. "My superhuman good looks have left you speechless? Wouldn't be the first time," he smirked cockily at me. "Such a shame, Annabel, I don't do princesses." My eyes widened. "Well, I don't do egotistical, self-centered, womanizing celebrity assholes like you, so I guess we're good then." He gaped at me, and it was my turn to smirk. He then smiled that iconic movie star smile, the one that gave the illusion of perfection and made you feel like the world was yours. At that moment, nothing sounded more satisfying then putting my fist against his jaw.
So as you've probably noticed, I love Percabeth. To get my fill of writing them, I decided to start this story.
This chapter serves its purpose of setting up the base for my story, so enjoy!
*Disclaimer (just in case): Please don't sue me*
(Also chapter names just come from the current narrator. Most chapters will be narrated by Annabeth, but there will be several other characters getting their own chapters!)
CHAPTER 1-ANNABETH
I smoothed my skirt once more, ensuring that every inch of my appearance emphasized perfection, a crucial element of my craft. Peering through the thick glass window situated in the heavy wooden door, I saw clusters upon clusters of other hopefuls making small talk with each other. With a deep breath, I pushed open the door as soundlessly as possible and managed to slip into the densely crowded room relatively unnoticed. I stood safely in the corner where I could scope out anyone who looked like competition. I didn't come here to make friends. I came to prove I'm the best.
Although mere minutes had passed, what felt like hours later people began to filter out of the room until only I remained. A man emerged from the room I was so anxious to enter, headset tangled in his curly hair and clipboard in hand, and he set his steely gaze on me.
"Annabeth Chase," he drawled. I straightened immediately, and the man beckoned for me to follow him. I entered the small room and stood before three people who were scrutinizing my every move. I subconsciously tucked a loose curl behind my ear as the woman in the center cut her probing gaze upon my face. It took all I had not to break eye contact.
"Please, sit down," said the man next to her kindly, and I gratefully tore my gaze away from the woman and took a seat.
"Annabeth Chase," said the third person, a man slightly younger than the first, "tell us about yourself."
I cleared my throat and began my rehearsed rundown of my thoroughly and meticulously prepared answers.
"My name is Annabeth Chase, as you already knew, and I'm twenty two years old. I moved to the city a few years ago to study at the prestigious Columbia University and have since received multiple degrees in architecture, which has been a passion of mine ever since I was a small child. Although I have never worked on design for a movie set, I've had plenty of other opportunities to sketch, build, and remodel."
"Excellent," the first man grinned. "Then, I must ask, what compelled you to apply to build a movie set?"
"I love trying new things," I began genuinely, "I want to be the best architect there ever was, and to do so I must further explore all of the opportunities I can. I promise to each of you that I will put 110% into this as I do with everything I do. You will not regret hiring me."
"Thank you, Ms. Chase," the woman stated before pausing for a long time. "You know, you remind me of a young me. Ambition, drive, I like that. You're going to go very far, Ms. Chase. I believe in you."
"Thank you, ma'am," I answered politely, taken aback by the encouraging compliment.
"Thank you for your application. You are dismissed," the woman went back to her cold, hard demeanor and sent me away with a wave of her narrow fingers.
"Thank you for your time and consideration," I answered truthfully, giving each of the trio a firm handshake and walking out of the room.
The second I left, it felt as if the huge invisible weight that had been clinging to my shoulders for weeks now had miraculously lifted. Relieved, I let myself leave the building with much less stiff and rigid posture.
As soon as I left, I slipped my phone out of my purse and scrolled through my contacts for a particular name. Clicking on it, I pressed the phone to my ear. He answered on the second ring and I grinned at the sound of his voice.
"Hey, babe," greeted the male voice on the other end of the line. "How was your interview?"
"Hey, Luke," I smiled, "I think it went really well."
"That's great!" he confirmed.
"Yep," I answered nervously.
"Hey, don't worry, you'll get it. You're Annabeth Chase, architect extraordinaire, and, in general, an extremely terrifying human," he told me. I could practically hear his wide grin.
"Stop it," I laughed boisterously at his description of me. "I am not terrifying."
"You are and you know it, no denying it. You seriously scare me sometimes," he paused, and a heard a man yelling at him in the background. "Hey, I have to get back to work. Call you later? We need to celebrate your success with dinner and a movie tonight," he offered.
"Sounds perfect," I muttered blissfully, painting the scene in my head, "talk to you later."
"Bye."
I closed my phone and tucked it into my pocket, smiling at the thought of Luke.
Luke was the very embodiment of perfection, a quality I admired very much and strived for myself. He was everything I could ever want in a boyfriend. Tall and handsome, with bright blue eyes that can light up any dark day and tousled blond hair that I could freely run my fingers through. A thick scar ran down the side of his face, a stark contrast to his smooth, pale skin. He was always smiling, with that kind of impish grin that makes you think he's up to something, although he is ninety percent of the time.
I had met him in summer camp when we were children, and I had always had a crush on him. I had spent summers at camp with Luke and our friend Thalia and the school year with my father, stepmom, and stepbrothers in California. My actual mom lived in Greece, that much I know, but I haven't seen her in forever. I moved back to New York for college and decided to test it out and stay, presuming I could get a job that would be my big break. I had met Luke again in college, and we started dating a little under a year after we rekindled our friendship. I had been surprised that I, a studious, nerdy little freshman, had caught the eye of the older, handsome boy, a similar scenario as to when I first met him: the bumbling, tumbling, stumbling little first year camper and the composed, witty older counselor who had bafflingly chose to befriend me. When I met him for the second time, the childhood crush I had for him had flared right up again, truly reminding me of a cliche childhood crush: the kind that filled your stomach with butterflies and your heart with laughter and your head with a dozen stolen moments, the kind of crush that induced constant goofy smiles and stealthy stares of adoration and, of course, embarrassment in front of your significant other (which Luke took in good stride, even when I spilled coffee on his laptop).
I walked over to the sidewalk and hailed a cab, letting silly, pleasant thoughts of Luke occupy my mind. The old brown leather seats of the taxi were worn and beaten, but comfortable nonetheless. It spelled of smoke and cheap cologne, a scent I was used to it after all my time in New York. My car was currently being repaired so, I've had to take either a taxi or get a ride from Luke to reach out of the way places recently. This interview was one of them.
When I saw the familiar tall brown cobblestone of my apartment building, I thanked and paid the driver before happily wobbling out of the car and into my building. Climbing the tall spiral of stairs to the third floor, I shoved my apartment door open, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed on the couch, blond curls escaping their tight bun and whipping over my face.
My apartment was rather small and simple, yet cozy. It had three rooms: a bedroom, bathroom, and combined kitchen and living room. Groaning, I changed from my professional clothing into sweatpants and an old oversized grey hoodie with an owl on it. Yanking my hair into a messy ponytail, I let my bare feet make their way to the kitchen for a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and a large spoon.
I deserved to be lazy today. Ice cream and Netflix it is.
Adamant in my decision, I grabbed a fluffy blanket and settled in for the rest of the afternoon.
THIS LINEBREAK IS GOING TO GET ICE CREAM NOW
I heard knuckles pounding on my door, and swung it open to reveal Luke.
"Hey, Annabeth," he grinned, entering my apartment. "Ready to celebrate?"
"Of course," I answered. I had exchanged my sweatpants for jeans and oversized hoodie for a simple navy sweater. Cramming sneakers on my feet, Luke and I left my apartment.
"So," he began, "it's your night. You get to plan the whole itinerary and I comply with no objections whatsoever. You better abuse this opportunity."
"Hm," I thought out loud. I had always preferred simplicity; I considered it a luxury of sorts. "Drive through and a movie?"
"Sure thing," he saluted. "Which movie?" I opened my mouth to answer, but he groaned before I could.
"For gods sake Annabeth, please do not say the name of a chick flick."
I felt a smirk stretch across my face and Luke's groans grow louder.
A few hours later, we had seen the so called "chick flick," which Luke had surprisingly been very emotionally invested into. He cried louder than all the women in the theater, not that he would ever admit it. Fragile masculinity, blah blah blah, macho man image and all that.
Now in the small parking lot adjacent to my building, we were sitting on the hood of his car and eating tacos.
"Aren't the stars beautiful?" Luke swooned.
"We're in New York, there aren't any stars," I pointed out. "Pollution."
"I know," he pouted, "how pretty would it be if there were though?" I chucked.
"It would be very pretty," I admitted, looking up into the smoky dark air, a sliver of powdery silver moon visible in the inky coal black sky.
"When are interview results coming?" Luke asked, fiddling with his taco wrapper.
"Hopefully tomorrow," I responded, "they want to start designing on Monday."
"You're going to get it," he smiled, "you're the most talented architect I know."
"Kissing up gets you nothing," I snorted. He laughed and shuffled closer to me, leaning down and kissing me.
THIS LINEBREAK SAYS EW LUKE GET AWAY FROM ANNABETH PERCABETH FOR LIFE
"No, everything is fine, Mrs. Hall. I'm sorry for the fright. Yes, I was just excited. So sorry again. Goodbye," I concluded, closing the door as she left.
My letter came this morning, and I had screamed upon opening it. Mrs. Hall, a kind, worrying elderly woman who lived next door, had decided to check on me like the sweet lady she is.
I read over my letter again, still grinning like a madman.
Dear Ms. Chase,
Congratulations, we have decided to hire you as the head set designer due to your impressive talent, presentation, and accolades for our new upcoming comedy Gods of Olympus, starring A-list celebrities Percy Jackson and Rachel Dare.
We expect to see you there at nine sharp on Monday morning.
We are looking forward to working with you.
Sincerely,
C. Chiron
Director
I happily spun in a circle and called Luke, leaving a rushed voicemail about the results.
If only I knew how my life would change the day I stepped onto that movie set.
So there we have it, the basis for this story! Things will definitely be picking up after this.
QoTD: Which movie adaption was worse, Lightning Thief or Sea of Monsters?
My Answer: I personally believe that they were both equally horrid creations, however I would say Lightning Thief because without it Sea of Monsters wouldn't exist.
" 'Hercules, huh?' Percy frowned. 'That guy was like the Starbucks of Ancient Greece-everywhere you turn-there he is.' "-Percy Jackson
Bri
