lol, yeah, i've been gone for a *while*, but i swore to myself i would finish this story, so that's what i'm doing.

also, i changed the name of the story, so if you're looking for "if you stick around (i'll sing you pretty sounds)," this is the same story. enjoy!

Luke asked her on a date.

It wasn't the most conventional way to do so, grabbing her wrist and making her feel trapped, and it was the last thing he thought he would ask her. Annabeth's hand stung as it collided with his cheek, but she thought he deserved it for being so creepy and forward. But then, he looked her in the eyes, and his icy gaze melted just a bit, and she couldn't exactly refuse.

So now she had a date with a guy she hardly knew.

"When is it?" Piper asks as Annabeth rants to her over the phone. "Where is it happening? In a public place, right? He'll be less likely to murder in a public place."

Annabeth slides her elbow on her kitchen table, propping her chin up with her hand, phone nestled between her ear and shoulder. Piper, for whatever reason, has been on a Law & Order kick for the past few months, so her paranoia about being kidnapped and murdered was at an all-time high. The fear was valid, given the only thing Annabeth knew about Luke was his name, his band's name, and his relative height. He could kick kittens in his free time, for all she knew.

And still, she couldn't find it in her to turn him down.

Puppy dog eyes were her weakness.

(She just hoped he didn't collect puppy dog eyes.)

"It's on Tuesday," Annabeth says, chewing her lip. "And we're getting lunch."

Piper hums on the other line, shuffling in what Annabeth assumed was her bed. Annabeth could picture Piper without even having to see her: sprawled on her downy sheets, head lolling off the side of her bed, phone tucked in the crook of her neck. Annabeth smiles at the thought.

"So, you got a few days," Piper says, clicking her tongue. "But don't you have a date with Percy tonight? Padding out your week, huh, Beth."

After promises to both Rachel and Percy, Annabeth decided to kill two birds with one stone and take Percy to Rooster's so they could listen to Rachel's band perform. She knows this would build up a bit of bias, seeing as Percy was judging the competition, but he promised to remain impartial, and Annabeth took his word for it. Plus, when she called to tell him where they were going, he seemed more than excited. Annabeth wanted to do everything in his power to give him one teenage experience for one night before he was whisked away to live the life of a superstar. She wanted him to make stupid decisions without worrying about the consequences, and she wanted him to throw his head back and laugh as hard as he could. She wanted to see a smile light up his face.

She wanted to give him everything, even if it was for only one night.

Sure, he'd have to be wearing something to hide his identity from the persistent eyes of the media and possible fans, but tonight. She was the fairy godmother to his Cinderella.

What's a good story without a bit of a disguise?

Annabeth blushes, twirling the phone cord around her finger. "It's not a date, and you know it."

"Whatever," Piper says, and Annabeth assumes she rolls her eyes. "A guy and a girl alone together in a club on a Saturday night, and it's not a date."

And she has a valid point. But Annabeth wouldn't admit that. She coils the phone cord tighter around her finger, blowing out a hot breath.

"It's only a date if it's between two potential romantic partners," Annabeth retorts. "Percy and I are just friends. Luke and I… aren't."

Piper sighs in her ever-exasperated manner, and Annabeth cringes – that was a pathetic excuse at best. "You hardly know Luke. I wouldn't even call you guys acquaintances, let alone "potential romantic partners." Promise me you'll be careful."

Annabeth's shoulders relax. "I will. Promise."

"Good," Piper says. "Have fun on your date with Percy."

"Piper, I'll kill you."

She spent a considerable amount of (read: way too much) time picking out her outfit, so when Percy shows up at her door with a bucket hat and a crooked, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt covered in parrots, Annabeth's more than just a bit upset.

"This is my going out outfit!" Percy exclaims, throwing his hands in the air as Annabeth spins on her heel and rubs a hand over her face, walking back into her living room. "I don't want people to recognize me, anyway."

Annabeth knows this, and as his metaphorical fairy godmother, it would've been her job to provide him with his new set of clothes. Except, Annabeth didn't have men's clothes, and her dad was a couple of sizes larger than Percy. She, for some reason, trusted Percy to pick out something decent. After all, he had a sizable enough closet to pull it off.

But they're about to leave, and he looks like a forty-year-old tourist.

Annabeth had this night pictured since they made plans (which, granted, wasn't very long, so she didn't get a chance to raise her expectations that high), and in her head, everything had gone perfectly. They would look amazing and have a great time like they did as kids. Hearing the doorbell ring as she rushed downstairs in clothes she finally got a chance to wear was the perfect start she had in her mind.

Initially, she thought she would be most embarrassed about how boring her living room was compared to his. But then, she opened the door, and all of that concern flew out the window.

Taking a deep breath, Annabeth turns back around and pinches the bridge of her nose. She surveys him – he looked like a dork. Paired with a goofy grin and open-toed sandals, he looked like he was about to hit up a beach resort and not the underground bar scene.

His hat's a little too big, as it falls to his brow line. It's endearing. But still.

"That's fair," she says finally, reaching out to fix Percy's collar. How the boy never managed to put on a shirt correctly was beyond her, but he knew it bothered her enough to make her fix it. Maybe he was using her because of it. Maybe the smile on his face lets her know that he was definitely using her because of it. Regardless, she exhales and pats his chest, looking up at him with a reluctant smile. His own brightens; he wouldn't be fooling anyone with that dazzling, red-carpet-ready grin, but his get-up hides his most apparent features. "Totally inconspicuous."

"Thanks. I try."

She questions that statement in her mind but lets him slide on the outside.

A look passes behind Percy's eyes, which she only knows because she suddenly registers that she's still pressing her hands against his chest – against his firm chest, that expanded into shoulders broad enough to fill his shirt. Percy blinks at her, and she steps back, flushed pink.

"Sorry," she mutters, running her thumb under the strap of her purse. Her gaze finds the floor as she curses herself. She'd just said Percy looked stupid, and now she was gushing over his outfit in the same minute? Had she tied her hair up too tight?

"It's okay," Percy says, shrugging. "I'm used to my looks stunning every girl I meet."

Annabeth looks back up and scoffs at the smug grin spreading across his face. He sticks his tongue out at her, and she raises a hand to her mouth to hide her giggle. Annabeth hated giggling. Leave it to Percy to make them both laugh in an awkward situation.

Then, Percy scans her up and down – unabashedly, might she add, and she squirmed at how obvious his eyes trailed down her figure – before sweeping back up to her red cheeks. His lips twitch slightly, and Annabeth can't tell if she's melting or convulsing.

"You look nice, Beth."

Annabeth squints her eyes at the simple compliment. Personally, Annabeth thought she looked great. Or, at least, the model she saw in the fashion catalog looked great, and Annabeth tried her best to replicate the outfit.

So, great by comparison.

But to hear any sort of compliment from Percy, who reserved them for when he meant it, made Annabeth even more of a blushing mess than she already was. She crosses her arms over her bare midriff, the hem of her knee-length skirt fluttering a bit in her rapidly spinning ceiling fan.

"Thanks," she says quietly. She checks the imaginary watch on her wrist and pushes past Percy to head for the door. "We should go."

Now, Percy had driven his car to Annabeth's – it wasn't anything fancy, but it was definitely out of the price range for the average young adult living in New York City. So, like the two loyal NYC citizens they were, they take the subway.

Which is difficult for all the usual reasons and hell for all the other ones.

Ones such as that at just past 5 PM, rush hour was at its peak. Everyone lined up in their car carries a dozen other things on their person (briefcases, backpacks, purses, birds in cages), making the car so full, Percy and Annabeth have to stand nose-to-nose as they hold on to a pole for dear life. Annabeth prays her breath doesn't smell, but even if it did, there were so many other scents emitting from the subway, she doesn't think he'd even notice.

Luckily, amongst all the commotion, nobody even spared Percy a second glance. Her hoop got caught in a stranger's sweater (and simultaneously, her hair), she's been stepped on more times than she could count on both hands, and the train lurched to a stop so much it made her a bit queasy, but their first mission was complete.

They move quickly onto the next.

Annabeth glances up at Percy, who'd been strangely silent the entire ride there. He set his jaw and shoved his hands in his pockets as they trekked up the stairs and on the warm New York street. Strangers quickly whiz past them, but Annabeth hardly notices. She just notices Percy, who looks more on edge than she'd see in weeks.

"Hey," she says, touching his elbow, "what's wrong?"

Percy glances down at her, the scowl on his face relaxing. "Nothing. Just nervous, I guess."

She would understand that - he hadn't been to a club just for fun before, and the thought of people recognizing him might have set him on edge.

But his body language, and in turn, his facial expressions were more irritated than nervous. Annabeth could also understand that. She hated riding the subway like little kids hated crusts on their sandwiches, and she was always irritated after getting off. But the Percy she remembered loved the subway - loved buying his ticket, observing the exciting characters of those on board, trying to guess what fluid he either touched, sat, or stepped in. Maybe he'd grown since that.

But it was more than that. Annabeth knew it was.

She left it alone, for now, offering Percy a gentle smile before looping her arm through his. His shoulders visibly slack, and he lets her pull him along.

For late afternoon, the club is already bustling with activity. Waitresses in tie-dye dresses zip between tables carrying trays of food and drinks, patrons dance (as in, sway their arms above their heads and gyrate their hips to the beat of the music). Couches line the paint-splattered walls near the stage; Annabeth spots her favorite one, the green one near the speaker, still open. She crosses through the bead-waterfall threshold, her grip still tight on Percy's bicep.

"Welcome to Rooster's," Annabeth says in her most tour-guide-esque voice. She glances at Percy, who looks around the place with wide eyes. Annabeth grins at his expression. Looks like her plan was working.

She drags Percy over to the bench, sliding into one side as Percy slides into the opposite. He looks so out of place, it's almost hilarious, and Annabeth has to stifle another giggle behind her hand. But then, with his mouth slightly agape and the eyes behind his glasses shining with almost childlike wonder, it looks like he's always belonged here.

Here, with her. Smiling the same smile he always had.

"Do you want anything to drink? My treat," Annabeth says, unfolding the menu in front of her. Though the club was mostly for teenage kids, they served a lot of non-alcoholic versions of drinks that tasted pretty amazing, or at least to someone whose only experience with alcohol was at a wedding when she was 14. She quickly discovered that she was sleepy drunk. "And don't even try to insist on paying."

Percy pouts, unfolding his own menu to look over. "You act like I'm not well off enough to secure my great-grandchildren's futures."

"But it is my job to give you a good time, so I'm paying." She sets down the menu with a huff. "In fact, don't even pick anything. I'll choose for you."

Annabeth stands before Percy can protest and goes over to the bar, where a young woman with long green hair stands, shaking a cocktail shaker over her shoulder. When she spots Annabeth, she brightens, smiling kindly.

"Hey, Juni," Annabeth says, sidling up to the bar. Of all the people that worked at Rooster's, Juniper was one that always took care of her customers – whether that be for the extra tips or for the sole fact that she was a kind soul, Annabeth didn't know nor care. Juniper's attitude brought a peaceful atmosphere to a place already bursting with it.

"Hey, Annie!" Juniper exclaims. She's also the only person that could call Annabeth 'Annie,' and that was only barely. "What can I do for ya tonight?"

Annabeth quickly glances over to Percy, who's still looking around at the bedazzled walls and funky colored carpets, every inch of the place teeming with people he'd never met before had no clue who he was. Juniper follows Annabeth's line of sight, waggling her pierced eyebrows.

"Oh, are you on a date? Never seen you bring a guy 'round these parts before."

Annabeth swings her head back around to Juniper, ears red. "No! We're just friends."

Annabeth sneaks a glance back over at him, and he catches her eye and waves, still wearing that dopey-ass grin. Annabeth wiggles her fingers back. Juniper clicks her tongue.

"Sure. What would you and your date like to drink?"

"Juniper!"

Annabeth returns to the table a few minutes later, drink-less due to a few special requests, trying to suppress an all-knowing grin.

"You know, I played at a place like this once," Percy says, peering at his reflection in the chrome napkin dispenser on their table, not noticing her lack of drinks or the look on her face. "Way early in my career, when I was about 15. Calypso's, or something like that, and I'm ninety percent sure everyone was crossfaded, but it was probably my favorite performance ever."

Annabeth hums, knitting her eyebrows together. "That was like, 4 years ago, though."

Percy shrugs, tapping his nail against the polished tabletop. "Yeah. It was."

His wide grin fades a little, and Annabeth panics. Shit, that wasn't supposed to happen. She'd promised good times only, and she'd be damned if she failed her mission this early.

"Sounds fun, though!" Annabeth tries, cringing at the inflection in her voice. "I bet playing in a club like this was super lively, especially if no one was sober."

Percy shrugs again, his smile falling still, but into a slightly pleased smirk. "Yeah. Some girl threw her bra at me."

"I think that's sexual harassment."

"I was just happy because that's the first time I'd ever seen one up close."

Annabeth sits back on the bench, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm sure you'd seen one of my bras before then."

"Annabeth, my dear, training bras don't count."

Annabeth's jaw falls and she scoffs, taking a napkin from the dispenser, wadding it up, and throwing it at him. "How dare you, Percy Jackson. And to think I bought you a drink."

As if on cue, Annabeth spots a head of pale curls bobbing towards the table, two drinks balanced on a tray. Annabeth covers her face with her hand, trying hard not to reveal anything. Percy looks at her quizzically, but then the waiter reaches the table before he could ask.

"Here are your drinks," the waiter says, and then Percy looks up, and Annabeth wishes she had a camera to capture the way his eyes widened.

Her favorite eyes.

"Grover!?" Percy exclaims, waiting for him to set the drinks on the table before jumping up and crushing their third musketeer in a hug. Grover laughs into Percy's shoulder – when they were younger, Grover and Percy were similar heights, but now, so many years later, Percy towers over him. Annabeth's heart warms at the sight, Grover bringing his arms around Percy's waist and hugging him just as tightly.

"Hey, Seaweed Brain," Grover says affectionately, using the nickname Annabeth told Juniper to tell Grover to use, for safety purposes only; Annabeth was still the only one who got to call him that. He pats his friend on the back and pulls away, almost having to crane his neck to look up at him. "Looking ridiculous as ever."

Percy glances down at himself, pulling at his shirt and frowning. "Hey, I really tried."

Grover looks down at Annabeth, who stands up to greet Grover similarly. Arm slung around her back, Grover leans in to whisper, "I'm sure he did," in her ear, and Annabeth snorts, much to Percy's dismay.

After being separated for a couple of years, Annabeth discovered Grover worked at The Rooster about a year ago when she'd gone with Thalia and he took their orders at the bar. When they were kids, Grover, Annabeth, and Percy were joined at the hip; they did everything together, from teaming up together during Capture the Flag, to running off Grover's bullies when they tried to hang him by his underwear at the top of the flagpole.

Unfortunately, Grover had fallen ill the summer before Percy went Hollywood, and he never got the proper chance to say goodbye. That fact broke Annabeth's heart, and she could only imagine how the other two felt. She only hoped the mini-reunion could fill the space of the things left unsaid.

So, she leaves the two to catch up.

Weaving between warm, grooving bodies, Annabeth makes her way toward the stage, where she sees another familiar head of curls setting up her microphone stand. Rachel, wearing a flowing brown skirt and a green tank, looks like the hippie she was always meant to be, and Annabeth adores it. Her band members, Nico di Angelo and Will Solace, set up their drums and bass guitar (respectively) and chat animatedly, clearly excited for their gig.

Or, at least, Will Solace is. Nico grimly nods along, but the softness in his eyes depicts a different story.

Annabeth taps at Rachel's foot to get her attention, and Rachel meets Annabeth's gaze, green eyes sparkling. Adjusting the stand to her height, she jumps down to greet Annabeth with a hug.

"Hi, so glad you could make it!" Her warm hands slide down Annabeth's shoulder, the sound of her bracelets jingling loud even over the speakers blaring music loudly. "Not gonna lie, kinda thought nobody would show."

Annabeth waves a dismissive hand. "Rachel, I wouldn't miss this for the world! Besides, this is technically your audition to be in the show."

Rachel's purple lips form a little 'o.' "Right! Guess I actually have to try now, huh?"

Her excitement was contagious, and Annabeth couldn't help but feel giddy on her behalf. Annabeth only wishes she was as passionate about anything as Rachel was about music. It was in everything she did: the way she dressed, the way she painted her nails, the way she spoke, the way she moved. She was her music, and her music was her; Annabeth didn't have to listen to a single one of her songs to know that.

It was the same when she looked at Percy.

Only, after years in the industry, the way Percy's music embedded itself into his psyche was different. It was more subtle; their relationship was much more tumultuous; Annabeth knew this was mostly due to the fact that Oracle of Delphi were independent artists, and Percy had his agents breathing down his neck. Even then, Percy's music was in his eyebags, and the curve of his spine, and the wear in his vocal cords.

Rachel and Percy's music was intertwined within their souls. One more tortured and the other bright and shiny and new, but still. The similarity was there.

Suddenly, there's a hand on her back, and when she turns, it's the very person she's thinking about. He looks down at her, and her lungs fill with air.

Even if his relationship was tumultuous, not even a sliver of that showed on his content face. His eyebrows were relaxed, the lines around his mouth smoothed.

And he looked happy.

And Annabeth could've cried.

"All done?" she asks, leaning into his ear because the music had just gotten exponentially louder.

"Yeah. He had to go back to work."

"Oh, okay."

His hand squeezes, and Annabeth's face heats up. Her shirt was short, and his fingers grazed her bare hip. The look on his face lets her know that he knew that, but she never gets the chance to reprimand him.

Rachel, who was still standing there and looking pointedly between the two, clears her throat very loudly. Annabeth's head snaps back to her, face even hotter. "Annabeth, who is your friend, here?"

Rachel has seen Percy before, and after the announcement at school, was very aware of the fact that they knew each other. However, it was dark in the club, and he was wearing a dumb disguise, and his talking voice wasn't nearly as recognizable as his speaking voice, so Annabeth lies and makes up a name.

"My friend, Peter. Peter, meet Rachel."

Wrinkling his nose at the name, Percy shakes Rachel's outstretched hand. Rachel's face lets Annabeth know that she definitely had a suspicion about "Peter's" true identity, but – and Annabeth secretly wants to smooch Rachel's forehead for this – she doesn't say anything.

But the recognition is written all over her freckled face, and her voice shakes slightly when she says, "Well, Peter, I hope you enjoy the set."

Her smile is adorable, and by the way Percy's eyes crinkle in the corners, Annabeth knows that he thinks so too. She isn't quite sure why her face falls, but then she remembers the hand on her waist, and she leans into him.

As Rachel hops back up on stage, Annabeth couldn't help but admire the way Rachel lit up a room, with her voluminous hair, eccentric makeup and sense of style, and a smile that glittered in any lighting. Watching her do the mic check was captivating. She drew in all eyes around the room, and her set hadn't even begun.

Rachel was everything bright, in every way possible.

She wonders if Percy noticed that like he noticed her smile.

"Thank you for this, Annabeth," Percy says, interrupting her thoughts, and he has so much sincerity in his gaze that all the air that had been in her lungs slowly dissipated.

"For what?"

"Everything." Percy shrugs, his fingers brushing her waist again. "Grover, taking me out, showing a little of your life. I– you always know just what I need, don't you?"

And tonight, wearing a stupid bucket hat, a weird shirt, shorts that were almost too tight around his thighs, and the same crooked smile he's had since they were kids, Annabeth decides then that he was everything bright, and even if in this state, where he didn't draw the attention like Rachel did, she would always gravitate toward him.

He fills her lungs, and tonight, in this exact moment, she realizes that he was embedded into her soul.

He always had been, and maybe he always would be.

"I guess," she says, breathing for the first time in a while. "But you know what?"

Percy cocks his head to the side. "What?"

"You're always just what I need."

so so so much has happened since i last updated. i turned 18, i'm graduating high school in a month, and i'm going to college in the fall.,and i've finished so many animes. if you would like to talk anime (specifically sk8 the infinity since it absolutely ruined me), don't be afraid to pm me! i may even post some fics on my ao3, so maybe check me out there? it's the same username as this account, cursedhazel.

anyway, i don't know when i'll be updating next; hopefully soon, maybe not, life is chaos. i can't say that i haven't been writing in the months i've been gone, because i've actually written a lot, but they're all unfinished one-shots right now because writer's block is a b-word. maybe i'll get around to finishing one and posting it soon.

until next time! ~ Aja :)