Hello! I'm back!
I know, I know, I haven't updated in forever. I'm so sorry about that! But I have finally learned how to manage my time. Therefore…updates!
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
"So…" she asked. "The bookstore of Barnes and Noble?"
"Sure," he agreed. "But is it okay with you if I meet you there in…oh, half an hour?"
"Okay. There's some work I need to do, too, so I'll meet you there at six-thirty, okay?" she said.
"Yeah, okay," he fixed. "In half an hour. Bye!" he called out on his way out. She waved, smiling to herself.
When he turned to look back, she was gone, too.
***
She walked out of the store briskly, but not unhappily. In another few minutes, she was in front of her apartment building, and stepped into the lobby. "Hello, Charles," she greeted the lobby man cheerfully.
"Mizz Chaze," he returned somberly, in his half-Italian, half-French accent. His darker skin always seemed to be beautiful compared to Annabeth's paler complexion. She always thought he belonged somewhere in the Amazon Rain Forest, exploring.
Or in a wrestling ring, fighting, she thought now. He was not a small man.
"Charles," Annabeth paused. "Charles, if somebody wanted to come to my apartment, how would that happen?"
"Like Mizz Graze?" he smiled. "We all know Mizz Graze. We would send her up."
"But if it was someone else? That you didn't recognize?"
"Then we would azk for the name, Mizz Chaze," he replied. "We would intercom you, and azk you if you knew them. If you did, we would send the young woman up. Or young man," he added as an afterthought. "If you didn't know them, we would see no problem in throwing them out onto the sidewalk, head first."
"Thank you, Charles," she smiled wryly. "I hope you wouldn't have to throw anyone out, though."
He smiled bitterly. "I wazn't always a lobby man, Mizz Chaze. Throwing people out of a building would be no problem." The smile seemed to turn sinister, at least in the dim lobby light. Annabeth felt a ripple of fear go up her spine.
New York City was not a child's playpen. New York City was a place where anything could happen. New York City was a place where anything would happen. Annabeth preferred not to imagine what had happened in Charles's life. She turned to head towards the elevator, as if also to turn her back on his past.
"Mizz Chaze?" he called. She turned. "You can call me Beckendorf. Everyone elze does."
"All right, then, Beckendorf. Good bye," Annabeth smiled.
"Good bye, Mizz Chaze."
"Call me Annabeth, Beckendorf. Everyone else does."
***
Annabeth punched in Thalia's phone number in her cell phone. The phone rang twice, and then Thalia picked up.
"'Sup?" she picked up.
"Hello," Annabeth said at the same time.
"Hello? When do you live, the fourteenth century?" Annabeth decided to ignore Thalia's jab.
"So what club are you at?" asked Annabeth.
"I'm not at a club. I'm at my house. I'm reading my contract, actually."
"What contract?" asked Annabeth blankly. "Do you have some job I don't know about?"
"Annabeth!" Thalia exclaimed. "Are you alive? You have to take your signed contract to the building tomorrow, don't you know? I told you this morning."
Annabeth vaguely recalled Thalia mentioning something about the contract. "Oh, crap! I forgot all about that!"
"Go do it now. It probably won't take you that long."
"Yes, it will. I have dyslexia, like you."
"Well, so does Kiera Knightly. Suck it up and go read and sign the contract. Love ya, bye!" Thalia called into the phone. Annabeth smiled and shook her head, and hung up. She had a thought that she should call Percy and let him know that she wouldn't be able to come.
Unfortunately, that's when she realized that she didn't have his phone number.
"Ugh," she groaned quietly. "Now what?" She called Thalia back, pulling out the think collection of papers at the same time. As she was staring at the hot pink folder in which it was housed, Thalia picked up on the other line.
"Thals," she asked pleadingly. "We've been best friends forever, right?"
"If forever meant two months and four days, then yes, my dear Annabeth, we've been friends forever. What do you want?"
"Is that how you talk to your best friend?" Annabeth asked.
"It is when they're trying to get something out of you. So whatcha want?" laughed Thalia.
"Um…I was wondering if…"
"Yeah?"
"Maybe you could tell me the main idea of the contract?"
"For Pete's sake, Annabeth, why can't you read your contract?"
"Um…I have to do something and I don't have enough time…"
"Ugh," Thalia groaned. "Okay. But don't tell anyone! Not only will you lose your contract, I'll lose mine."
"Why? It's the same thing, isn't it?" Annabeth asked.
"Ah, Annabeth, you are naïve, simple girl! It's simple…wait, I don't know either," Thalia sounded puzzled. "Hmm…"
"Whatever, just tell me!"
"Okay…it's pretty basic. I'll tell you in a list.
"Number 1: You can't sign a contract for, or work for, any company other than The Backbiter.
"Number 2: You can't work with designers who are not working through The Backbiter.
"Number 3: You can't talk to anyone who's working for any agency other than The Backbiter.
"Number 4: You can't show up at any shoot—or show—wearing labels.
"Number 5: You can't wear any clothes with a label on them in public, like those tacky shirts they sell at Hollister or Abercrombie and Fitch or whatever—"
"So that's the whole thing?" interrupted Annabeth.
"Pretty much, yeah," conferred Thalia. "Not much else."
"Okay. That's not hard. Thanks, Thalia!"
"Yeah, sure. But now you owe me!"
"I know…I'll pay you back, I promise! See you later, Thalia!"
"See ya," chuckled Thalia. "And Annabeth? Have fun at your date."
"It's not a date," Annabeth protested, but Thalia had already hung up. Annabeth shrugged, hung up the phone, and opened the folder, signing the first line with a flourish. Quickly flipping through the entire packet, she finished signing the entire thing.
***
Annabeth headed out the door, changing first into a sweatshirt.
***
Thalia called Annabeth back, but the number went to Annabeth's voicemail. Thalia's voice echoed through the dark, empty apartment.
"Hey, Annabeth? There's another thing on the contract I just read: You can't get married in the time span of the contract, which is three years, and you can't get have a kid in the time span, either.
End Chapter.
Yes, I know it's very short. I'm sorry. But I tried to write this through my Writer's Block, so feel lucky. To make up for it, I will try to update very soon.
And now for free advertising:
Have you read Accident? Do you like False Impressions? If so, you may enjoy my newest story, titled In Time!
Percy, Annabeth, and Rachel try to save Nico and Bianca and Maria from the heartbreak in their past. How? They decide to go back in time. So, they go back to the 1920s in America. How they get there, how they survive in a time long gone, how they manage to blend in, and the most important one: how do they get back? All this and more can be found in the celebrated, Great American Novel, In Time!
Ahem. How cheesy.
Percabeth, as is usual in my writing. But this time, I will have RACHELX… well, you'll have to see who she ends up with.
You can help her case by voting on my profile, though! :D
Thanks, everyone, and forgive the long author's note, please!
~Clara