Hi guys,

This is like my first real attempt at a full fanfic story, after tests and exams got in the way of my previous ones. :(

This story was kinda inspired by learning to breathe by everydaynerd, so go read that (it's way better than what I hope this one will be).

So, have a good read and please review, comment or PM me about suggestions.

It wasn't pretty, Annabeth thought, but it's home. The apartment had white walls, with gray wainscoting. It had four rooms - a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen and laundry, and a living room. She'd already gone through all the rooms and stood leaning against the entrance to the apartment. She rubbed her back and then winced. How was she meant to get all her stuff upstairs while four months pregnant?

She squeezed her eyes shut and wished for not the last time that she wasn't in this position. She should be at Harvard, with a boyfriend and friends, partying - not pregnant, in a dingy apartment building and going to NYU. But, she thought with a rueful smile, soon she'd have her own kid, maybe meet some friends here in the apartment, and life would be better. Maybe.

But the real problem here and now was not her vanishing money, or pregnancy, it was getting her stuff up to her new home. She turned and shut the door of her apartment, and walked down the beige-carpeted hallway to the lifts. She pressed the ground floor button, inwardly wincing as she anticipated the swooping feeling she was about to feel in her stomach. She folded her hands over her stomach, and then realised that the elevator was stopping.

It slowed, and a girl who looked around Annabeth's age got in. She had dark, spiky hair and Annabeth saw the curling ink of tattoos reaching out from under the collar of her leather biker jacket. She smiled a greeting, and Annabeth smiled back, albeit smaller. No doubt this girl was a 'rich bitch', as her old friends used to call them, and just visiting someone and going home to her flat screen TV and fancy college. That would've been Annabeth's life, if only she'd not -

But that wasn't relevant, Annabeth thought, and felt guilty as she wished again that she wasn't pregnant. Of course I have to be grateful. I has a whole new human being growing inside me, so be grateful. But she didn't feel grateful. Annabeth realised that she was staring, and quickly looked away. The elevator swooped downwards and Annabeth bit off a groan. She'd always hated elevators.

"Are you okay?" It took Annabeth a couple of moments to realise that the spiky-haired girl had asked her a question.

"Sorry?" Annabeth said back, apologetic.

"That's okay. I just asked if you're okay?" She said, smiling.

"Oh. Yeah, I am. I just hate elevators - it's not the baby." Annabeth smiles.

"Okay. That's good."

They go back to silence, and before long the button for the ground floor dings. The doors slide open, and Annabeth gestures for the other girl to exit before her. The spiky hair bobs as she nods her thanks, and walks swiftly out of the elevator. Annabeth, though, is slower and walks more relaxed to the reception desk.

"Annabeth Chase, room 312?" The lady at the reception says in her high-pitched voice through ruby-red lips.

"Yes, thanks. You have my bags?" Annabeth says, and the lady turns and wheels a cart out from behind the desk.

"Here you go. Have a good day." The red lips turn up in what's meant to be a smile, but Annabeth knows that inwardly the lady's frowning at her.

Annabeth takes the cart, pushing it towards the lifts. She presses the 'up' button, then waits, leaning against the cart as the green levels button steadily gets lower. It dings, and Annabeth pushes her cart in. She's alone, thank God, and she lets herself sigh loudly as she presses the 8th floor button.

Her stomach doesn't complain as much, but she still wraps her arms around herself (song ref - listen to Arms Around You by Maluma; it's so good) and shuts her eyes. She doesn't know how long she has them closed, but she when the bell sound rings and the doors open, she reluctantly opens her eyes and shoves her cart down the hall toward her room.

Her door is plain, as she noticed with all of her apartment, and she fumbles in her pockets for the key, which she realises is... on the kitchen bench. Inside the apartment, which is currently locked. Annabeth slides her back down the wall, and buries her face in her hands. Yet another thing she must do - go down to reception and fetch another key, and no doubt another look from the reception lady.

Tears track down her face, and no she lets herself freely cry. Why is her life so shit? Why is she the pregnant college kid, the teen mother, the nerd? Why her?

Sorry it's short... this is just kinda like a short intro to the the story and Annabeth's situation. Percy will come soon, promise. This is a percabeth au, for y'all out there who haven't figured it out. The chapter names will be songs, and, please read, comment and review.

- Annabeth Chase-Cullen ;)