Annabeth Pov
Freedom
Album: The Story of Me
I don't know about you, but
I finally see freedom
Heading on my way, so
I can see the real world, now
It's freedom
Oh whoa oh oh
"Don't cut it too short," Sarah warned as the professional hair stylist snipped off another inch. Last night, I gave a whole speech on how since this was my break, I got to look how I wanted. So my hair was now only a little longer than my shoulders. No makeup. And, I let my hair fall naturally into its little curls. Normally, Sarah would nag me and tell me to straighten it every other night, but not today. We'd made a deal.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw myself. Not Annabeth Chase, the pop star.
"Alright, Ms. Chase, the private jet is ready," Tom spoke up, holding the door open for me.
"Please just call me Annabeth," I told him, taking the door handle myself. Tom looked at Sarah, and she sighed and nodded in approval.
"Okay, Annabeth," he emphasized, with an amused look on his face as if he'd never actually said my real name before. "Let's get you off to America!"
a~a~a~a
On the jet, Sarah went over everything with me. "First of all," she began, "you are only staying in California for 2 months. No boys, at all. I mean it. Right now, you have Luke."
"But, why can't I…" my voice faltered, as I waved at her to continue. Sarah was right. I was only staying for 2 months. I wouldn't be able to have a steady relationship. Besides, who could I trust in America? "Okay."
Speaking of Luke, he is my "fake" boyfriend. Emphasis on fake. I don't like him at all. He doesn't like me either. In that way, I mean. We're almost brothers and sisters. We have to pretend because Sarah said it would be cute, and it would be interesting for the paparazzi. Sure, for the paparazzi, but not for me. Everytime we're together in public, we have to pretend we're a couple. It's really annoying. If I don't stay on the front page, Sarah will add something even worse. I'm sure I've got enough of Annabeth Chase and Luke Castellan caught doing so and so already.
"…No bad behavior during trip, no candy, absolutely no junk food. You're going to have another show when you return. We will not be having you gain weight. And, you have to be responsible of your own items…" she went on and on, speaking to me as if I was a helpless kindergartener.
I rolled my eyes and glanced over at Tom, who gave me a look of sympathy. Really, he doesn't understand how it feels like. I haven't had fast food or soda since I was 4. Oh, that was when my mom was alive. And then Sarah came along, and became the director of my life. I'm not sure I even auditioned.
"So," she concluded, spreading her hands across her lap. "Any questions?"
Yes, my mind nagged. But I forced a smile, just to make her stop talking. "No, everything's clear."
"Okay. I hope you enjoy this trip! But, don't forget to finish your album, because when you come back, you will be busier than ever!" she click clacked in her shiny strapped heels over to Tom as they both discussed the schedule.
I took out a piece of lined paper, and decided to start on the lyrics. I was almost done with my album The Story of Me. They've only heard a preview of it –the songs Be Yourself and Freedom. My other songs in that album are done, and almost ready to be heard. They were basically mostly about my life. Sarah told me to write my last few songs about Luke.
"Make it obvious enough for everyone to know it's about him," she'd told me.
"What? I don't have anything about him," I'd complained that sweaty afternoon. I'd come home from two interviews in a row.
"Well, what do you feel when you see him? How about, his eyes sparkle and dance? Or, or how about his laugh?" Sarah had pushed, dramatically acting out her words.
What do I feel when I see Luke? Well, uncomfortable, pressured, fake, annoyed, but I certainly don't feel love. No hearts or fireworks at all.
I tried starting out: You make me feel like there's nothing else to worry about…
Definitely not. Whenever there are cameras, I get really nervous, because this "love" isn't real. And I feel bad for taking up his teen love years away for him. I feel like a phony when I see him in public. All the fake hugs, kisses, and big flashy smiles that we both resent.
I wrote the next line: Your blonde hair so soft in the sunlight…
Ugh. I couldn't continue. How are you supposed to write a song that you don't feel? I put my pencil down in disgust, folding my arms across my chest.
a~a~a~a
Once we finally reached California (it took about 11 hours), we took a taxi to a really big white Victorian house. It wasn't as big as ours back in London, but it was still huge. It had a walkway that led up to marble steps. The path led through a mini garden with crocuses and daisies sprouting. Impressive, but I wished we could just have something more…what was the word? Oh yes, normal.
"Sarah, you really didn't have to rent a house this big. Only you, me, and Tom will be staying here," I told her.
"This wasn't even the biggest house! Don't worry about little things like this," Sarah snorted. Of course, anything normal, to Sarah, would be like a crushed soda can on the sidewalk. Usually, everyone ignores it, or kicks it to the side. That's how normal was to her.
I decided to focus on the beautiful details on the house. This designer must've put a lot of thought into it, because the windows were so uniquely placed and the back and the front of the house both looked like the entrance. Through the windows, I could see laced curtains. The garage was big enough to fit 4 cars.
Sarah unlocked the door, then gave me a replica of the key. "We will both have one, and no going out after 8:30. Am I clear?" she fixed with a stern look.
I nodded eagerly, forgetting everything. "Thank you so much! Where's my room?"
"Go up the stairs –it's the second one on your left."
I took my suitcase from Tom and (with great difficulty) made it halfway up the stairs.
"Would you like help?" Tom asked, trying not to laugh.
I glared at him. "Of course I don't!" I tugged and the wheel got stuck between the railing. I pulled again. "Okay, I guess I would like some help," I admitted, as Tom gave me an I told you so look as he lugged the suitcase up the rest of the stairs and brought it to my room.
In my room, it wasn't that bad. It was about the size of two master bedrooms put together, with a bathroom in the back. Sarah had decorated it pretty well, with posters of me when I was on tour. Almost everything had my name Annabeth Chase on it –bed sheet, blanket, pillow, chair cushion, the towel hanging in the bathroom, the fuzzy rug.
"How do you like it?" Sarah appeared in front of my door.
"It's…nice, I guess," I finally decided, looked out the bay window. On the other side, there was a mini balcony with a table and some few chairs. She nodded, pleased with my answer, and walked downstairs.
"You're going to Goode High School tomorrow," she called from below, "so be prepared!"
My heart leapt with joy. This would be my only chance to make new friends! A normal life that isn't filled with crazy mischief! A time to be like a regular teenager! The chance to go to school! You'll have to leave everything when you go back to London, my mind reminded. Don't get too comfy.
So… I've heard that Rick Riordan finished the House of Hades already, and he just sent it to his editor! It's going to come out in September, but I think we will all be alive during that time :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and stay tuned for more! –Sophia