Story summary: Marine Percy Jackson has come back from Iraq, a changed man. Needing a roommate, he finds genius but socially awkward, quickly irritated Annabeth Chase. He quickly finds, though, there's more to living with Detective Chase than paying rent; the two embark on several escapades, one more life-threatening than the previous.
Love can mix, though, with work on occasion, right?
Genre: Mystery, Romance, Humor
Pilot Part I
"I trusted you Mr. American..."
Slowly exiting the Lexington Avenue 86th street Station, the 25-year-old Percy Jackson hobbled up the subway stairs, carefully alternating between his prime and inferior leg, using his crutches as support. As he struggled, though, to find a sustained center of balance, Percy bemoaned his aloofness towards his rebab.
Maybe I should have paid closer attention to the therapist's instruction…
Finally making his way out the underground, Percy took a moment to relish in his accomplishment. The moment proved short-lived as it dawned on him the next task.
Finding his friend's apartment.
Oh, wonderful it's 20 f*cking blocks away…
Letting out a Greek curse, Percy resumed his hobbling as he inched his way uptown. The New Yorkers who surrounded Percy simply passed by the handicapped man, though there was a collective pity for his situation. There was one kind bystander who offered up some taxi fare.
However, Percy politely declined. If this was to be his permanent state for the rest of his life, Percy didn't want any aid. A life-long New Yorker at heart, if there was one thing New Yorkers despised, it was asking others for help.
Perseus Jackson had recently come back from a three-year-long deployment in Iraq. Public service was in the man's DNA through and through; Percy's father, Poseidon, was a former Marine turned Navy SEAL. And a damn good one he was; Poseidon was instrumental in taking down overseas terrorist cells, rescuing American hostages trapped within hostile foreign countries, gathering classified intelligence America's enemies would have paid an arm and leg for and, in his overtime hours, hunting for the evasive authentic taco joint in Washington DC for the president of the United States.
That last mission proved most difficult.
Poseidon's missions were of such secretive nature he once joked to his son he probably would have had to kill him had he ever unveiled the intricate workings of his occupation.
Even as a young naive middle schooler, Percy was keen enough to understand his dad's joke probably wasn't a joke.
It seemed Poseidon was destined to remain with the NAVY SEALs for the rest of his life, whether it be in some physical or overhead capacity. However, an incident occurred that forever altered that trajectory. Percy didn't know the details, nor was Poseidon eager to divulge, but it was enough for his decorated father to step down from the SEALs.
For a military branch that prided itself in being unphased and ten steps ahead of its enemies, this came as a shock.
Currently, Poseidon was stationed as a Coast Guard Sector Commander in New York City. A noble job, certainly, and it had the perks of being closer to his family and home. Percy 100% believed, though, had it not been for the Fates, Poseidon would have remained a SEAL till his grave.
Percy's mother, Sally Jackson, too dedicated her life to service, although of a slightly different variation. She worked for the non-profit Save the Children, traveling to underdeveloped parts of the world helping to educate and tend for less privileged children.
Sally had graduated from Stony Brook with an English bachelor's, along with a minor in Public Health. A warm, kind-hearted woman, Sally's biggest asset, at least in Percy's estimation, was her blue cookies. Sally made the best cookies, period. Whenever she visited hospitals or schools, she made sure to bring a heaping basket full of these goodies for the children to enjoy, to their immense delight.
Percy was certain her mother could have created a cookie empire and toppled the likes of Oreo & the Keebler elves. Heck, whatever she set her mind to, Sally would have crushed.
Instead, she willingly traveled to the most dangerous portions of the earth, making less per year than Rihanna did in a single concert.
Growing up, Percy knew his life path would involve helping others, whether it be of the dangerous kind like Poseidon, or caretaker like Sally. The Marines and Percy seemed a match made in Elysium. He graduated from the College of New Rome, his father's alma mater. He possessed Poseidon's smarts and wits, Sally's kindhearted & caring nature.
It also didn't hurt to be a man of exemplary looks. Percy was a solid 9 in most ladies' books, easy 10 in others.
Percy Jackson's future looked bright.
Arriving in Iraq, Percy was adamant about making his mark. Despite being the youngest of recruits at 22, he quickly rose through the ranks in a short period of time to become a trusted adviser, colonel, and eventually field commander, the youngest ever in the Iraqi war. His primary assignment became establishing lines of communication with the native Iraqis, many of whom were highly skeptical of American involvement.
Otherwise known locally as "America f*cking up our daily lives".
However, the Iraqis took a liking to the jet-black-haired man. Unlike most American soldiers who couldn't care less in integrating themselves with the populace, Percy was different. He took the extra time and energy to immerse himself in the day-to-day activities of the Iraqis, learning their language, religion, and culture. Rather than sleeping within the comfort of his barrack, he preferred to sleep within the humble homes of his guests.
Percy cared for the people he served, no matter the racial or language barrier. It was a quality Poseidon and Sally pressed in their only son. One he prided himself in.
Loyalty.
Maybe to a fatal extent…
With the help of Percy's advancements and successive American military successes, the U.S took a grip hold in Iraq. Percy was tapped to be a leader in what planned to be a golden era for the country, removed from the violence and corruption which plagued it. The Americans trusted Percy. The Iraqis trusted Percy.
Percy trusted himself.
Yet, in a quick range of events that followed, the once deemed secure American position began to slowly, then in rapid succession, deteriorate. The insurgent terrorists who were thought to be annihilated struck back, recruiting and fighting with a newfound ferocity that surprised the Americans. One by one homes, villages, towns, then cities collapsed.
For his part Percy desperately attempted to halt the storm, leveraging the trust he had carefully crafted with his new Iraqi friends, pleading with them to fight back. However, lingering anti-American sentiment, a fresh supply of cash and resources from America's geopolitical enemies to the terrorists.
Unforeseen betrayals…
The American position grew from dire to grim. Eventually Percy's unit, and finally the entire U.S military was pushed out of their Iraqi strongholds. What the green-eyed man dedicated three years of his life to, gone.
As quick as Percy's ascension was, his demise was just as striking.
Percy was quickly relieved of his field commander duties, scheduled to be redeployed to Europe, the U.S military's version of you're fired. In a cruel final act from the Fates, though, Percy's Hummer was blown to bits by an IED in his final patrol of Ramadi.
As he laid in a Turkish hospital bed mending to his wounds, Percy could only reflect. Three long years. Three years that had taken some of Percy's closest field friends. His ability to walk.
Most importantly, his sense of purpose. His self-worth. Percy had failed. No matter how his higher-ups tried to spin it, he failed. There were bitter memories Percy would never forget till his final day. But the one which pierced him the most were the last words of an Iraqi boy, Ali, before he departed Iraq. It was the name of a young boy he had befriended and grown close to in his time there. He had seen the boy grow, mature, and come of age. It came to the point Percy considered Ali like family, a brother he swore his life on to protect.
Percy swore to be loyal to.
"I trusted you, Mr. American. I trusted you…"
But hey at least Percy got a purple heart.
Fair compensation, I guess…
Arriving at his friend's home street, Percy looked for the correct apartment number. 676. Having identified, Percy was about to enter. He cursed, though, as he realized his friend lived on the upper floor.
Oh great, another set of stairs. The universe has a twisted sense of humor today...
Percy reached for his phone to call his friend, in no mood to trudge up yet another set of inclines. Around the corner, a man yelled out in Percy's direction, noticing the handicapped stranger stalking his home.
"Um excuse me, sir, are you lost? I don't mean to be a bother, but I've noticed you were walking around my neighborhood, and I thought you needed P… Percy? Is that you?"
Percy turned to the man. He was greeted to an old, but familiar sight.
His best friend Grover Underwood.
Grover was a man of short posture, curly brown hair, brown eyes, brown complexion, signature wispy beard which refused to be anything but tidy and kempt. The two men met in a Greek studies class in the College of New Rome, where they bonded over their love for public service, Regular Show, and despising their Professor Gleeson Hedge. Currently, Underwood worked for the NGO Pan-Central, which advocated for the preservation of U.S national parks. It was there Grover met his girlfriend of over a year, Juniper Dryad.
Percy and Grover knew one another like the back of their hands. Knowing Grover, he probably would have freaked out and immediately driven his friend to the nearest hospital upon knowing of his condition.
Hence why Percy labored 20 blocks uptown to get to his buddy's apartment.
"Percy. My goodness, what … what happened to you?!" Grover exclaimed, still taken aback.
"IED bomb. Blew up. Quick hospital stint in a U.S base in Turkey. Now I can't walk," Percy casually said. "So, sup with you?"
"Gods Percy!"
"Have anything to eat? I'm craving some Velveeta mac and cheese…"
"Dude why didn't you tell me to pick you up?! I took an off day from work to meet you. I could have driven for crying out loud!"
"Because I knew you'd panic and freak out like you're doing right now. Not really what I want, a panicky friend behind the wheel in dense New York traffic..."
"I don't panic!"
"Grover, you panic when you see three blinking dots waiting for Juniper to reply. Spare me the bullsh*t."
"But… you're … how … UGH." Grover lamented. Being Jackson's friend for what was approaching 7 years, he was accustomed to the man's laidback, out at the sea like attitude towards life.
That didn't mean Grover liked it.
"Just come in. I have some leftover cheese enchiladas I can heat up. We've got a LOT of catching up to do."
"Ayy now we're talking," Percy exclaimed, giving Grover a fist bump.
Grover's world-famous cheese enchiladas? This crap of a day got significantly BETTER…
Grover resided in a 1600 square feet, 1 room apartment in upper Manhattan. Some NGO charity paintings, protest signs reading It's cool to be green yo laid messily on the floor. Adorned on Grover's bookshelf were the Harry Potter series, a vinyl disc of Muskrat Love, and a newly released book PS It's Pan not PAM: Life advice from Pan. Grover's prized possession, his reed pipes, were encased in a glass enclosure right on his paper-filled work desk.
It was clear Grover was living the bachelor's life. Percy took note, though, of a lacy pink lingerie bra hanging off the edge of the living room couch.
Most definitely the property of the lovely Juniper Dryad.
Percy grinned as he discreetly pushed it aside, kicking it under the couch, saving his friend a lengthy, embarrassing conversation. Glad Grover had some fun while I was gone…
Grover finally calmed his nerves as he took out the reheated enchilada plate from the microwave. Turning to his friend, he placed the plate and a glass of water in front of him on the dining table.
"Sorry, my place is a mess. I've been up to my ass with Pan work. Also, uh, Juniper. She's been staying over a lot lately the past month."
"Nah it's fine. Can't be any worse than our college dorm. I have to say it must be nice having a … friend over after work hours. We soldiers come to miss that overseas…"
Grover blushed. "Hey, Juniper and I didn't do any… anyway Percy. The story. What happened to you? Please, tell me."
Percy quickly wolfed down a third of his enchilada. "As I said, it was an IED incident. My unit was doing final patrols in a small village on the outskirts of Ramadi. I was going house to house, greeting the neighbors as usual. We hit the open road, about to patrol the next village when suddenly, my Hummer's front wheel hit an IED sensor."
"Goodness…"
"The IED was faulty, so the damage was minimized. However, my Hummer was blown to shreds. One of my men lost both his legs. Three lost their arms."
"Gods. Thankfully you're ok. I thought, though, you would still be in Iraq at this point Percy. The last we spoke, you said you had about a year left before your deployment expired. You said, 'final patrol'."
Percy paused. Ali's last words flickered in his head like a police strobe light.
I trusted you…
"It's … it's nothing major. I was reassigned to Germany. Just the typical, boring overhead decision out of my control. When the incident occurred, though, they decided to send me home for some R & R. I wanted to stay, of course. To … help. But hey, you got to see this beautiful face show up early, so that's a silver lining." Percy joked though it was half-hearted.
Grover studied the green-eyed man for a while. It was clear his best friend was hiding something. However, Grover thought better than to probe deeper.
Plus, knowing Percy, he would have wolfed down the entire plate to avoid answering.
"The point is you're alive, which is all that matters. Were you injured severely? I don't see any cuts or bruises on you."
"No. Remarkably, only a few minor cuts."
"How about your legs. Do … do the doctors think you have a chance to walk again?"
"The doctors weren't exactly sure of the cause of my feet paralysis. They speculated it may be due to neural damage or lingering effects of PTSD from the blast. They did leave open the possibility I could, in two years' time, resume some limited form of walking with enough effort and rehab."
Grover's eyes lightened up. "That's … that's good then! If there's hope, no matter how small, you shouldn't give up."
Percy snorted. "Yeah, and I have also hoped every year for the past 25 the New York Jets would win the Super Bowl. Look how that's turning out…"
"The Jets are the Jets. You're Percy Jackson. The guy who was captain of the CNR water polo team. The guy who tore through that dictator Gleeson Hedge's Greek studies lecture. The guy who kicked my ass in Madden, even though you were most likely cheating. If anyone can beat this paralysis, it's you."
Normally, the old Percy would have concurred. However, the now hardened, downtrodden Percy sighed as he took a long chug of water. "I appreciate your optimism. But I'm not the same person as before Grover. Heck, I'm not even the same guy I thought I was. I'm just happy to be limping, enjoying these enchiladas. That's good enough, right?"
Grover wanted to refute his friend's claim. However, Percy seemed lost again in his thoughts. The man in front of him was such a departure from the man he knew before. Confident, emboldened, talking with joy about his ambitions.
It was like his best friend was a shell of his former self.
"So, where are you staying now?" Grover asked, changing the subject.
"Small place in Brooklyn. Probably half the size of yours. I just got back a few days ago so I haven't really settled in yet."
"The rent is good?"
"It's what you'd expect for a small, undersized, lacking in basic appliances cookie-cutter box of a space in New York City. Aka not great."
Grover cringed. "Yikes. Doesn't the military give you a stipend or something for your services?"
"You and I both know America is more focused on trying to make Iron Man come to reality than helping dudes like me."
Grover grumbled. "Why do I even pay my damn taxes. Hey, at least you got a job, right? I know you just came back but I'd figure a guy like you with your creds would be flooded with offers. Doesn't hurt you're also apparently quite fine on the eyes for the ladies. Honestly, I don't see what they see..."
Percy cracked a small smile. "Hey look who's talking? I did receive some email inquiries from CNN, ABC News, Fox News. They asked me to come on as a part time military analyst."
"Well winner winner the grandmas who tune into the late-night news. They're going to eat you up."
"Yeah. But then I realized I'd probably be fired the instant I drop an f-bomb on live national television. So, I'd rather not go down that route."
Grover sighed. "You are prone to naughty language. Especially in our video game sessions. Any others?"
"The military gave me a recommendation to the Pentagon about doing remote logistical/intelligence work."
"Possibly the most boring job possible. But hey it's better than nothing."
"I … I don't think I'll be taking up their offer," Percy quietly replied. "Nothing personal against them. Just … I would like to get away from that line of work for the time being." he tersely followed up.
Preferably for the rest of his life…
Grover nodded. "Understandable. I could always put in a good word for you at Pan. No guarantees but I'm sure they value diverse opinions and backgrounds like yours. You might, though, want to change your … carnivorous eating habits, at least during lunchtime."
Percy raised a cautious eye. "Hmm. You sure this isn't a secret ploy by you to convert me to a vegan?"
Grover looked offended. "Percy how dare you suggest such a thing! Absolutely not! Although, frankly, if you do ponder such a lifestyle change, I wouldn't be against it…."
Percy rolled his eyes. "Dude no matter how many times you bring this up, we both know it ain't going to happen. I am an American. I am biologically conditioned to love meat."
Grover shook his head. "And then you people wonder why your cholesterol rates are through the roof. At least I'm trying..."
"Could it be I'm just unemployable," Percy mused. "No functioning legs, limited job skills unless you consider detonating a grenade useful in a civilian setting. My dad always said whenever he encountered a problem: The simplest explanation is usually the best one Perseus..."
Grover snorted. "Even if that's the case, which I highly doubt, you need to do something Percy. I can't have you become like my Uncle Ferdinand; gods bless his heart. The dude used to jog 5 miles each morning before work. Now I can't even get him off the sofa. It's like he's a statue, firmly cemented in front of the tv…"
"Hey, I don't plan on being an indoor rat. There must be something in this humongous city for me to do, big or small. I'll … I'll find it eventually." Percy retorted.
"So, what is it then? What are you going to do?" Grover pressed. He took a deep breath. "Look, when I was a freshman in college, I felt super nervous and insecure about myself. I wasn't sure what I should do, pursue my dream career path in environmentalism or something more traditional and safer like my parents suggested. You man, you gave me the confidence to go with my gut. To do what I loved."
"It was nothing dude…"
"No, it was something. It was the first time someone gave me confidence. You were loyal to me and still are to this day, which I will forever be thankful for. Frankly, Percy, I see a lot of past me in you now. I'm worried man. You've changed, a lot, the past three years. It's like you don't trust yourself anymore. You're not … loyal anymore to yourself or what you believe in.
You're not the Percy Jackson I know."
"What are you going to do Percy? What are you going to do?" Grover reiterated.
For the first time, Percy was at a loss for words. Just over three years ago, his answer would be immediate. Follow in my family's lead. Help others.
Now, he was handicapped, short on money, forever shaken by his war experience, unsure of who he was as a person.
"I … I don't know," Percy honestly replied. "I don't know." The two men sat silently for the next few minutes, the only sound the steady ticking of Grover's wooden analog clock, the hustle, and bustle of the city outside.
Eventually, Grover said. "I can at least help you with your living arrangement. I took some time last night to find some open apartment listings in upper Manhattan. Craigslist, Roomster, good old-fashioned Facebook. Given your limited budget, it's probably best that you live with a roommate to help alleviate the bills."
"Roommate? Oh, gods no." The only roommate Percy had had in his life was Grover Underwood and he barely tolerated him.
For a man struggling with internal demons, a roommate was the last thing Percy wanted.
"Oh, come on you haven't even met these folks! One of them plays the saxophone, piano, and cello. The other loves to play Pokémon cards, with emphasis on love. Another guy, goes by the name Mike, always throws a Friday night poker party with his buddies. I'm pretty sure though the cops busted them for a money-laundering scheme or something…."
"No man, no way. I can always stretch out my stipend, save money and eat Ramen noodles. Are they still 50 cents like during college…"?
"Dude you need to start somewhere…"
Percy did not like this idea whatsoever. However, Grover was right. The military always preached, regardless how dire a situation looked, there was always an opening, an opportunity, waiting to present itself. History had proven that too many times.
The terrorists, unfortunately, did in reclaiming Iraq.
Of course, war was much different from life. The core principles, though, remained.
I need to start somewhere with my life.
A roommate could certainly help.
"Ah what the f*ck. What's the harm? Fine. I'll check these listings out."
Grover pumped his fists in the air. "Now we're talking. First guy. Jimmy McGill. Occupation/interests: Works as an investment banker. Plays the clarinet and piano. Loves a good smoke from time to time. Seems well-rounded in his personality. Good job."
Percy squinted at the bottom of the page. "Take a look at this article. Jimmy McGill. A formerly convicted bank robber released 5 years ago, now reformed, there are some inklings he may be involved in a huge money fraud scheme at his investment company, although McGill adamantly denies such claims. Uh, yeah no thank you."
"Sorry, that's my fault. The second one, an old lady. Agatha. Interests: loves old movies, knitting, has a small cat named Tibbles. Seems like the typical, sweet old lady."
Percy continued reading the listing "Agatha doesn't have many requirements for her roommate, but she does ask that he/she be a helping hand around the house with chores, always on their feet in a moment's notice to help a fellow roommate given their old age." Haha, that's really funny."
Grover crumpled the listing and threw it in the trash bin. "Man, you really should have told me about your condition before I printed these out. Like half of these are old ladies and dudes looking for their roommates to assist them."
"Hmm how about this one? Works as a sales associate at Best Buy, that's ok. Listed interests: loves video games, that's a plus. Loves Regular Show, that's a BIGGER plus. Oh, he's a huge Red Sox fan…"
"Nope just nope," Percy quickly rebutted, ending the discussion. "Next." Percy was a die-hard Yankees fan. Instilled to him at a young age by his father and mother, he absorbed all of Yankees lore and tradition, including despising the Red Sox. Percy's roommate could have offered to do his laundry, pay the electricity & heating bill, take out the garbage every night.
Percy still would have rejected him for being a Red Sox fan.
One by one the two men sifted through the prospective listings, the rejection pile becoming higher and higher. Finally, it came down to the final applicant.
"Plays electric guitar in the morning. Girlfriend stays over 4 nights of the week. Is still under his mother's financial support. Nope, just nope not even close," Grover stared at the massive pile in front of him. "I think we officially broke the Harvard record for rejections."
Percy let out a smile and patted his friend on the back. "We did our best. I appreciate all the help man, I really do. It's getting late. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, Saturday? My place, even though it's not much of a place."
Grover looked wistful as he headed towards the front door to escort his friend. "I'm sorry bro. I really wished we had found something for you … wait … wait! Actually, there is something else." Grover scrambled to his work desk, sifting through the reams.
Eventually, Grover found what he was looking for at the bottom of the pile. Unlike the other listings, this one was printed on legal paper, stamped at the bottom, with the person's signature in big bold black ink. You could be forgiven for mistaking it as some official government paper.
"Sheesh, this person takes roommate finding seriously," Percy commented.
"Oh, my gods if I lost this Chase would have killed me. A friend of mine. Dr. Chase is looking for a roommate to live with. Well, looking is not exactly an apt description. I've proposed, and argued, with Chase for gods know how long about the benefits of having a roommate. Eventually, after I pressed some more and an unfortunate screaming tirade by Chase I was a lucky spectator to observe, the doctor relented."
"I don't want to have a roommate. Chase doesn't want to have a roommate. Two negatives make a positive." Percy rationalized. "Does the doctor have any living preferences?"
"Uh well, they're more like requirements. I'll read them off.
Requirements: Rent and bills split based on one's income since that is the most equitable and fit of distribution that I've deemed. Roommate must wake up no later than 7 am each morning, 8 am if it's a weekend, 8:30 am federal holidays, 9:00 am for non-American cultural holidays I've deemed of importance. Able to listen and tolerate classical music to the tune of Wolfgang, Brahms, and Debussy. Further, you must be able to purchase a 4-pound jar of Greek imported olives each time he/she makes their weekly trip to the market. NO EXCEPTIONS TO THE FINAL STIPULATION."
"You're bs-ing me with this."
"I couldn't make this up even if I tried."
Percy shrugged. "Alright, I guess everybody has their quirks. I already wake up way before the average American so that's not an issue. I think I can tolerate the olive's request. What do they do for a living? Interests? Most importantly, is this person a Red Sox fan…"
"It's … hard to define. The doctor hates to be 'limited' to a singular job or hobby. Chase mostly does investigative criminal work for the New York and federal police headquarters. The doctor also has an active online blog where they record and document their daily workings, most of the time to the police's resentment. Chase also enjoys helping dogs in the local NYC animal shelter during free time..."
"A dog person is great. Chase seems to be a public service servant like I am. I respect that."
"Oh, it also says. I also collect old Yankees memorabilia as one of my many numerous hobbies and thus would VERY much prefer a roommate that does not identify with the blasphemous Red Sox. I don't want to say I'm unwilling to live with one who identifies with the other side as I'd like to think I am flexible with my requirements.
But I do VERY much detest and prefer to not mingle with such filth.
"Alright now I'm interested. When do I get to meet this Chase guy?"
Grover shifted uncomfortably in his spot. "Um, I might need to double-check with the doctor. I think Chase would be ok with you as a roommate with your characteristics but frankly, I'm just speculating. Also, um, the doctor told me not to reveal this, but Dr. Chase is not a gu…"
Percy cut his friend off. "Dude, I couldn't care less about these 'warts'. At this point, I'm willing to live with Charles friggin Manson. That's how desperate I am. I admit I've … I've changed as you said. The person who I thought I was, I'm not. I thought I had my whole life sorted.
I didn't.
But I'm Percy Jackson. The Fates are clearly throwing all their sh*t at me. Might as well roll with the punches and sling some right back if I can. I'm not going to let my stupid legs define me. After all, I've been through, this Chase guy can't be all that terrible; he's a Yankees fan after all. Let's meet him!"
For the first time in their reunion, Grover saw a brief glimpse of that optimistic, defiant Percy he knew and adored from the past, which brought a smile to his face.
That's the laidback, confident, Madden cheating Jackson I know..
"Alright, bro. It's time for you to meet Dr. Chase."
Alright, there's the first part of the pilot chapter! Hope you enjoyed it. I want to point out I sincerely hope I didn't offend anyone with the portrayal of Arabic/Islamic cultures. In fact, I have a lot of personal familiarity with Islamic and Arabic customs.
One of the driving reasons in starting this story was to expose myself to new cultures through writing since they're so fascinating. This story allows me the chance to do that through the medium of Percy and Annabeth being detectives.
And yes of course Annabeth Chase is coming, duh. I tend to overwrite like a mad man so I'm limiting myself to a 5000-word cap per chapter. Further, yes this is a mystery story first, but also will develop into a romance. So, be patient romance fans; the Percabeth is steadfast approaching.
I should address for others who are familiar with my other FF story, Just Friends, first thank you for sticking with me and continuing to read my stories no matter how different they are. This is the first piece of writing I've released in two years plus. Some might know, I've been dealing with depression, anxiety, sadness in my personal life and took an undisclosed amount of time for a hiatus.
I'm feeling a little better if anyone asked. I definitely, though, found a reignited passion to read and write again, for which I'm grateful for.
I AM planning to update Just Friends, I'm not at all abandoning the story. I just wanted to write something that was way out of my typical medium/writing style I've grown used to and I've been eager to write a unique mystery/action Percabeth story for quite a while.
Rest assured I will update Just Friends, promise. I hope you can respect my decision.
Please favorite, follow, review. I encourage constructive criticism. Also, leave your theories in the reviews for how you feel the first encounter will go. I very much encourage that ;)
-Much love, Friction