Annabeth is jittery.
Perhaps the whole moving into a new place by herself is finally catching up to her.
It's a mixture of excitement at the newfound independence she's always wanted and the nervousness of being completely on her own. It's wonderfully terrifying.
Which is perhaps the best way to sum up what she's been feeling ever since she graduated in May and walked out to cloudy weather with a diploma and no clear idea of what she was doing.
It's pretty much the same now, except she has a job and a new apartment, so that's something at least.
She needs this, she tells herself as she tears off the newspaper packaging she had used to pack some bowls. She needs to get out there, be completely on her own, experience life and...she just needs to do something that feels like progress.
Moving out of home and into a new place, albeit small and cramped, has been the first step. She nods confidently at the white ceramic bowl. Yes, she's making moves. She's gonna figure it out.
The bowl doesn't respond but she takes the way the light glints on the surface as she puts it in the cupboard as a sign.
She stops to stare at the absurd amount of boxes still laying around. Unpacking is hard. Not because it's actually a hard task, but rather that there's just so much of it.
So when her phone rings a second later, she gratefully takes the opportunity to take a break.
"Hey Pipes, what's up?"
"What's up with you! You're the one who just moved into a new place, how's it going so far?"
Annabeth frowns at the box underneath her, still filled with plates that need to be put away. How did she even accumulate this many plates? She had maybe two all of college.
"Unpacking is a chore, but other than that, it's fine."
"Are you sure you don't want help with anything?" She can hear the hopefulness in Piper's voice. She wants to help.
Annabeth's been really stubborn about the whole moving thing, she knows, but it just felt right that she should do it herself. She doesn't know where this idea had come from or why she had hung onto it so strongly, but she had done it. She had moved in by herself.
Well, with the exception of the couch, which her stepmother had offered to pay half of if she let her brothers help her with it. And she wasn't going to turn down a discount.
"No, I'm good," she replies. There's a pause.
"Seriously," she insists, "I'm good, already done with the plates and bowls." As if unpacking two different kinds of items would convince Piper, regardless of how true they were.
"Okay…" Piper responds, not sounding very sure, "if you say so."
Annabeth lets out a huff as she adjusts the phone so she can open the next box. "I'm capable of unpacking, you know."
Piper sighs on the other end. "I know you can, but it's worrying you won't let anyone help you. Help isn't a bad thing, you know. You don't have to go it alone."
She's right. Piper is usually right. So instead of focusing on the implications of what her best friend has just said to her, she focuses on the frustration she's feeling at her own incapableness to open the box while holding the phone.
And then it strikes her that she can just put it on speaker. No one is going to overhear or get annoyed.
She's all alone.
It's a liberating, albeit, slightly scary thought. And she sets the phone on speaker, suddenly glad that Piper had called her.
"How was your day?" she asks, pulling out the last plates and bowls. One still has the Ikea sticker on it and she curses the deal on bulk they were having because she's not sure all of it will fit in her tiny cupboard.
"Oh no," Piper warns, "you're not going to change the subject on me. Why aren't you accepting help?"
She sighs, closing the cupboard that has somehow managed to fit everything.
"Because I don't need it, it's just unpacking stuff." There's a silence as Piper waits for more.
"And I'll ask for help if I need it," she continues, "I promise."
Piper sighs again. This must be a frustrating conversation for her, but Annabeth is too busy deciding which slot the newly found forks are going to go into, and focuses on that instead.
"Alright, please reach out if you do, I'm here for you."
She stops messing with the forks. "I know Pipes, thank you."
And with that the call ends, because Annabeth has more unpacking and Piper's sister needs her to do something.
Annabeth stares at the darkened screen once they hang up. She knows she has people, really good people who care about her. But she just needs to do this, by herself. She just needs a moment to figure things out.
The kitchen is mostly unpacked by the time the clock strikes eleven. She's tired but the adrenaline (or whatever it's called) is still coursing through her, keeping her awake.
The nervous energy that has been slowly building the entire day rises to the surface and overtakes her again. The jittery feeling is back.
So she gives up on unpacking and decides to explore the building.
It's not that big, just a normal New York building that was made ages ago and featured eight (well nine, if you count the basement) different apartment units. She's on the second floor and the people above her are loud as fuck. Even as she steps into the hallway, she can hear the voices coming from the third floor.
Not really knowing where to go, she starts climbing up because she's seen down. The third floor is exactly like hers, featuring two doors, one with more scuff marks than the others. That's probably the one with the noise. She wonders how the people next to them cope.
The fourth floor is a little bigger, because it's the last one and features three doors instead of two. The third is unmarked. Probably a supply closet?
Nevertheless, she makes her way to the unmarked door because it's the only thing of interest and she's caught up with the idea of exploring.
It's not locked, to her surprise. Even more surprising, it doesn't lead to a closet but rather a set of stairs.
Feeling a little like what the kids in Narnia must have felt, she climbs up the stairs to another unmarked door that's been jammed to remain unlocked.
It swings out to reveal a small rooftop area bathed in the yellow light of the lightbulb that hung right inside of the door. She can't see too much, because it's dark outside (and cloudy for a summer night).
But she can make out the silhouette of some vent fans and a concrete railing that marks the edge. There's a haze around the entire scene and she realizes that it's started to drizzle.
Despite that, she steps out. It's a little cold and she can feel the water on her skin, but it feels nice to get some air. This place has a lot of potential, she thinks, if only there was some seating.
She needs to leave before she gets too wet and she makes a vow to be back the next day.
(And you best believe she does).
-.-
Percy loves Nico, truly. But the music is just too damn loud, and with how thin the walls in this apartment are, he's pretty sure he's not the only one getting annoyed. Though, to be fair, the third floor directly beneath them seems to have a never ending party so…
As it is, he's trying to get some writing done and Panic! At the Disco (as much as he loves their songs) is just not conducive to writing.
"Hey Nico!" he tries to shout over the music. Twenty seconds later, he is tired of waiting and pokes his head out into the living room.
"Nico!" he shouts. The boy actually turns around this time and nods his head at him.
"Dude, volume, please!" he manages to get out, flailing his arms in some manner. Somehow though, Nico gets the message and turns it down.
"Better?" Nico asks, grumbling.
"Yes, thank you, I'm trying to…" he panics. "Take a nap," he ends up blurting.
"Oh shit, sorry dude," Nico actually looks a bit guilty, which makes Percy feel even guiltier. He waves off the apology and retreats back to his room which is relatively quieter.
He sits on his bed (because desks are for people who don't want to commit to a full-size bed) and runs his hands over his face. Why couldn't he just say he was writing? Nico would have understood. Why did he feel the need to keep this a secret?
For some reason, unknown to even himself, the thought of the people in his life knowing that he writes is too much. There's always the fear they'll start questioning him about it, or wanting to read it, and he just can't do that.
It's much easier to put it online for strangers who don't know him to read.
He lets out a long sigh and pulls his laptop back to him, screen still displaying a blank document.
Okay so maybe he was trying to write.
Same difference really, as far as anyone knew. Typing is hard enough but coming up with words is straight up ridiculous and then on top of that, formulating those words into sentences is insane, and making it all into a whole cohesive plotline with characters and conflict and bibliography in APA format is just impossible!
He doesn't know why he's trying to write, especially when he has no motivation or ideas or talent or anything really.
He's doing that thing again that Grover calls Unproductive Spiraling, which is just him taking a thought and running with it.
To be fair though, what else are you going to expect from a writer? Well, wannabe writer since the document in front of him is still blank. This is not going well.
He's committed though so he just starts typing in hopes that maybe something will happen along the way. A far-flung wish for sure, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try.
He gives up after fifteen minutes.
The document has twelve words: "The first word that registered in his still half-asleep brain is rug." And he's asleep even before his head hits the pillow. He'll do it tomorrow.
Probably.
He wakes up an hour later to loud music and squints his tired eyes at his bedroom wall imagining it to be Nico.
He's awake enough now to notice the still-open laptop next to him. He blinks at the twelve words on the document and wonders where the hell he was going with that.
As he puts away the device, a loud drum solo wafts through the living room and Percy squints at the wall again, giving his best are you kidding me face to the pretend Nico there.
Miraculously, it somehow works because the music starts to get quieter again as Nico probably remembers that he was supposed to keep it down.
Percy's asleep again before he does.
A/N: So what did you think? I wrote this fic for NaNoWriMo last year and finally after months of re-writing and editing it's complete! There will be weekly updates for this and I hope you guys are ready for a really long ride up ahead!
I've written a lot of fanfiction but this is the first time I've written something novel length! I really hope you guys like it!
Please Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
And as always, thanks for reading!
See ya! :)