warning; contains coarse language

Annabeth Chase was fuming. There was literal steam coming out of her ears and she was about to start screeching like a boiling tea kettle.

It was not the first, nor the second, but the third time tonight that she'd been rudely awakened by her inconsiderate upstairs neighbors just as she was about to fall asleep, and Annabeth was just about done. What could they be possibly doing at the ungodly hour of 3 in the fucking morning to cause that consistent thumping sound that penetrated Annabeth's skull like a jackhammer, driving her to near insanity? Hosting the NBA Championship? Did John Cena decide to show up to give them all a spontaneous wrestling lesson? Did they walk around with bricks taped to their shoes just to spite her?

She rolled her eyes. Chances were unlikely. The only plausible answer she could think of made nearly made her dinner come rushing back up. Perhaps her skull wasn't the only thing being penetrated tonight.

Gross.

But whatever it was - basketball, wrestling, bricks, sex, whatever - somebody had better put a stop to it. Now.

And it was gonna be her.

Annabeth rolled from her bed onto the cold, hard ground, running a tired hand through her severe case of bed head. Her joints ached and yearned for her to return to her oh-so-comfortable mattress but she could do no such thing if the thump, thump, thumping continued to drive her bonkers all night long.

Tonight was by no means their only offense though. Far, far from it. For the past six months and every single night without fail, there'd be some type of disturbance that only further fucked Annabeth's sleep schedule in the ass. She hadn't had a good night's sleep since they moved in, which made her 8 ams hell to wake up for and stay up through. More times than she can count on both hands had she been caught dozing off by her professor, or nudged awake by Hazel, her chemistry partner, when her hair was on the verge of becoming fried and dyed by the beaker of blue chemicals (which she couldn't tell you the name of because she was probably asleep when her professor explained it).

Sometimes it was the thumping, other times there was loud yelling and screaming, most of the time it was both. Whenever she had friends over at night, they'd wonder what was going on with the bowling alley upstairs. She'd tried everything to ignore it: ear plugs, sleeping pills, sleeping in a different room, turning up the music super loud to drown them out, and absolutely nothing worked. She didn't want to have to go to the landlord, but she was done with standing to the side and letting it happen.

Tonight was the final straw.

Her bones cracked as she made her way over to her computer. Her fingers tapped the keys absentmindedly.

A letter. She'd write a letter. Taped to their front door, maybe it'd be passive yet aggressive enough to get the point across.

She opened a word document to begin.

Percy stared at the letter in his hands, a blush creeping up his neck in embarrassment.

Dear Apt. 312, the letter began in perfect MLA format.

Hi.

I want to be as nice as possible as I am currently filled with an indescribable rage. I don't know you, nor do you me, but hey, it's your downstairs neighbor, and I can hear everything. Everything. Every footstep, floor creak, clock tick, and deep breath, which wouldn't bother me in the slightest if it wasn't for your incessant stomping or whatever is causing that irritating thumping you do at night, or the yelling that haunts my dream like the ghost of my dead grandmother, or on the worse nights, both. I don't care what it is: it could be you fucking the brains out of your girlfriend for all I give a shit about. I don't care. Just stop. Please. For the sake of my sanity and my sleep schedule.

It's 3 am at the time of my writing this, ear plugs long forgotten in this ongoing, never addressed battle I'm having with you. I've endured what sounds like the bouncing of a basketball repeatedly hitting the floor, its bounces timed with the exact moments I'm JUST about to fall asleep. Literally… just… at… the moment. You can probably see why I'm a teensy bit upset unless you're some sort of psychopath, which at this point I don't even doubt. You're utterly infuriating and god forbid you're an awful person in person too. It's getting so bad my friends have stopped visiting me in fear of having to deal with "The Upstairs Neighbors", all of them well aware of my hatred. Well, I don't know I can call it a hatred if I don't know you enough to hate you. But it's damn close to it.

You guys probably don't even know how much noise you're making, huh? My fault. Six months this has been going on. I should've told you a looooong time ago.

I've prayed to every god I could think of (even freaking Thor, because why not?) that you guys would leave for the summer so I could finally get three months of peace. God knows I need it after getting through those finals… but you're still here. Still as oblivious as ever to the sound you make. Or maybe you don't care. I hope it's the first. So I'm begging you now. PLEASE realize that someone lives below you and that everything you guys do past 11pm is extremely loud and driving me nuts. Shut the fuck up. Respectfully, of course. During the day, I don't care. I'm hardly there during the day because a gal's gotta work. Make all the noise you want then. But after I get home, I crave sleep. So let me get some.

So please with chocolate chip cookies on top, can I please get some decent shut-eye once in a while?

Sincerely,

Apt. 212

Percy scanned the letter a few more times before he set it down on the counter.

When Percy has woken up this morning, he wasn't expecting such a vulgar letter to be taped up on his front door. He didn't expect anything to be taped up on his front door. And he didn't know that he had virtually made an enemy without knowing it.

Dread set in the pit of his stomach. He'd never intentionally try to ruin someone's day; that's the opposite of all he ever tried to do. Percy refused to hurt a fly if it didn't deserve it (which sometimes they did and he didn't feel bad about it). He didn't even know he had downstairs neighbors. Neighbor. Whatever. For how long? Had he seen her before (assuming they were a her. She did call herself a gal. And called him a few choice words too)? And did he clomp when he walked? Did he yell in his sleep?

"Leo!" Percy yelled from the kitchen, a furrow threaded through his brow. No, he didn't do those things, he didn't think. There was only one other culprit in this house, and he came in the form of a young, Latino boy with Red Bull running through his veins.

"What?" Leo called back groggily.

"Can you come here for a sec?"

A pause, then a groan before he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

The boy's head of curls was smashed on one side, a trail of dried drool coming from the corner of his mouth and his usually bright eyes bloodshot red.

"Dude, what happened to you?" said Percy, scrunching his nose.

"Ah, nothin' man," he slurred, eyelids heavy. "May have stayed up too late of Fortnite last night but I was onna roll, ya know. Couldn't stop while I was ahe…." he trailed off, head dipping before it snapped back up again. "Ahead. Hey, you know what sounds good right now? Coffee."

Leo slugged over to the pot, filling it with water. Percy grabbed the letter from the counter and hid it behind his back.

"And for exactly how long have you been up late at night playing Fortnite?"

"Dunno," Leo said, pouring in the coffee grounds, "A month, maybe two or six, lost count. But it's not just Fortnite dude. Minecraft gets pretty fuckin' intense."

Bingo bongo.

Percy shoved the letter under Leo's nose before he could doze off again.

"Well, I think all your gaming has made someone pretty upset. I found this letter taped to out front door this morning. Take a look."

Leo's eyes scanned the letter, a giggle threatening to escape his throat.

"You think this is funny?" Percy exclaimed. "This girl hates me because of you and I don't even know her."

Leo placed a hand on Percy's shoulder, struggling to keep a straight face.

"Dude, chill. She doesn't hate you. She hates us," Leo said, ignoring the glare Percy sent his way. "Which is why you have to apologize for the both of us. Work your Percy magic. Chicks dig you, for whatever reason. Bake her some of those cookies. Bam. Not only does she forgive us, but she sounds like she's around our age, so maybe you'll get a lil somethin' out of it."

Percy shook his head, bewildered by whatever Leo logic that didn't at all make sense but made total sense at the same time. Leo should be the one apologizing; he's the one who caused all of this anyway. But Leo had no smooth-talking bone in his scrawny body, so the situation would not work out in their favor if Leo was their representative. Percy always got them out of trouble, like the one time Leo brought in a puppy from the street and Percy had convinced the landlord that the barking was just some weird cough he had or the time Leo punched a dent in the wall and convinced the landlord that it had already been there and that he should pay for the repair costs.

And Apt 212 did mention chocolate chip cookies. And chocolate chip cookies were his specialty.

"If I agree to this so-called plan," Percy started, "you have to promise to either stop playing Fortnite or Minecraft or whatever it is you play, or you have to keep the volume to the extremely bare minimum. Or I'll punch you," Percy said.

"Easily a deal, my dude."

Percy sighed. He'd better get to work.

Percy hesitated before knocking on the door. She hated him, or damn well close enough to it; who knows how'd she react to meeting him for the first time. Did he look okay? He actually took the time to comb his hair before he left (to no avail) and put on a shirt that didn't have stains under the pits. He wondered what she looked like. He imagined her with pointy teeth and devil horns. Was she mean? Maybe she was actually nice and just really pissed.

He prayed for the second option.

Annabeth was smearing butter on her toast when she heard a knock on the door. She wasn't expecting company, not at 4 in the afternoon. She looked down at the baggy t-shirt and Nike shorts she adorned and shrugged; it wasn't like she was answering to the Prince of England.

Percy's breath hitched as he heard the door unlocking. Last chance to run away. Maybe he should just leave the cookies and leave. But before he could make a decision, the door flew open.

Outside Annabeth's door stood a handsome man with black hair and a nervous smile. In his hand was a plate of…

"Are those… blue cookies?"

Percy stood frozen in the doorway. She… wasn't a she-devil in Prada shoes. She was a young woman with long curly blonde hair with maybe a hint of devilishness in her gray eyes. And she was actually, well, kinda pretty. Really pretty.

Which only made Percy ten times more nervous.

"Er, yeah," the man said thrusting the plate into Annabeth's hands. "I'm your upstairs neighbor. Got the letter. And I brought these to apologize for the noise."

A heat wave rushed through Annabeth's body. So he was the asshole ruining her sleep. After six months she finally gets to meet him: The stupid, inconsiderate, no good… kinda cute asshole. His brilliant green eyes literally sparkled under the fluorescent lights. Goddamnit.

"So it was you?" the woman asked, arms folded across her chest. Percy flinched. Her words didn't sound bitter without context. Nothing she said sounded bitter even. How could someone who looked so innocently pretty write such a vulgar letter?

"Well, no, it- it wasn't me. But it was my roommate. The sort of psychopath. But I baked you cookies because I felt bad that he kept you up so maybe this is some sort of peace offering?" the man babbled. Annabeth stifled a giggle. How could she be mad at cookies especially when they were offered by someone whose smile was as endearing as his?

She cursed at herself for not being mad. She should be. She should want to punch him in his stupidly sharp jawline. But she didn't.

His roommate on the other hand…

"I'll make peace with you if you help me come up with a plan of getting back at your roommate over a cookie and some tea," the woman said, a smile gracing her full lips. Percy blushed. He should really get to know his neighbors.

"Deal. My name's Percy. Percy Jackson," he said as he stepped through her doorway.

Percy. Sounded better than Upstairs Neighbor or Resident of Apartment 312.

"Annabeth Chase."

Later that night as Annabeth was leaving her apartment she found a letter taped to her door.

Dear Apt. 212,

From the both of us in Apt. 312, we sincerely apologize for the noise we make at night. No, we are not fucking our girlfriends (or each other, for that matter) senseless. We're both incredibly single. We're simply two stupid asshats who get a little too intense playing video games. And by two, I mean one. One stupid asshat getting too intense while playing video games.

We will do our very best to cease any and all loud activity proceeding the time of 11 pm, but there will be no promises that a stray hand won't smack a table out of frustration of Fortnite playing. In order to right our wrongs, we cordially invite you to a dinner party at Cheddar's next Saturday at 7.

And by we, I mean me. Me as in Percy. Percy Jackson. And by dinner party, I was thinking more along the lines of a date.

Write back 1 for yes or 2 for no.

Jk, you can just text me.

His phone number was written at the bottom of the page.

Until we write again.

Love,

Apt. 212

P.S. Leo had nothing to do with this letter.

Annabeth smiled and tucked the letter into her purse.

Was it bad that she couldn't wait?

Guess who's back? Me! School's officially out for the summer which means I have time to write! So I wrote this quick story (based off of a tweet I saw a couple days ago) to try to get back in the swing of things. Hopefully it's good?

Expect more stories from me soon ;)

Until next time ~ Aja