A/N: Hey guys! Back with another chapter! Hope you like it!
This time last year, Percy had been celebrating finally getting a job, even if it was only for six months. And then six months had turned to seven, then eight, and suddenly a whole year had passed. It had been a surprise, but a blessing nonetheless. And despite how he felt about the work, it was a job. A job that paid.
It's been so long that Percy has forgotten what it's like to be out of work. So when he's forced to stare it in the face in the form of an email detailing the wrap-up of the project and his last day, the punch in the gut returns.
This time this year, Percy's out of a job.
He tells Nico first, because he has roommate duties (and rent) to fulfill, assuring him that he'll still pay his half. Nico sympathetically offers to cover it for a month while he's searching, but Percy shakes his head, adamant, because he's an adult damnit. He'll figure it out.
He tells Annabeth second, because he has boyfriend duties, and though they're not that extravagant of a couple, it might hinder future plans. Annabeth sympathetically tells him not to worry about it. She also opens her mouth to say something else before stopping herself, and he thinks she might have been offering to help in some way. He's glad that she holds back. He can do this.
He doesn't tell anyone else, because he can really only handle two people's reactions right now. And as usual, a part of his mind starts to wander, and he thinks if only he wrote a book, he could have a chance at making that into something.
But daydreams aren't reality. Reality is rejection email after rejection email with the depressing greeting: "We regret to inform you…"
He sighs in frustration as yet another email comes in, incidentally while he's looking through a job site. It's disheartening enough to make him close his laptop and lay in bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.
He knows that it's all about shooting as many shots as possible, since out of fifty applications, maybe ten or so would actually follow-up. He's not great at math, but he knows that's the cause of him feeling this shitty.
"How's it going?" Annabeth asks when he goes to visit her and he can't even bring himself to think about it.
"I don't want to talk about it." It comes out snippier than intended, the frustration leaking into his voice, and Annabeth retreats immediately.
"Okay, um, want a drink?" She doesn't wait for a response and beelines towards the kitchen. He sighs, running his hands over his face. He feels even shittier.
"I'm sorry," he says the moment she gets back with a can of Pepsi. The last thing he wants to do is take this out on her.
He picks up on the concern in her eyes but she just nods. "It's okay, I know it's frustrating. We won't talk about it."
True to her word, they don't. They avoid work altogether and focus on whatever Annabeth's pulled up on Netflix. It helps him relax a tiny bit, but he can't shake the feeling that something's still off between them.
He tries to ignore it and when she kisses him goodnight, he feels a little better. But as soon as he's back in his room, staring at his laptop, the shitty feeling returns.
He needs to do something else. He pulls up an empty word document.
One of these days he'll string together all his writing from his notebook and his laptop, but today is not one of those days.
Today he's going to write. He's finally going to get all his thoughts out.
Half an hour later, it turns out today is not the day for writing either.
He wants to throw down his proverbial pen, shut off his laptop and never write again. Tears build up in the corner of his eyes because he's trying, he's trying so desperately to work on his passion. He knows what he wants from his life but he can't even make it happen.
Glaring at the jumble of words on the screen in front of him, he slams his laptop closed. He can't get anywhere. First he was stuck at the temp job, making do but not having the time to put towards his dreams, and now he's out of work with the rejections piling up and time on his hands just to have the dream fall to pieces in front of his eyes.
He jerks up and buries his face in his hands. He wants to do this. He needs to do this, but every time it feels like he's fighting a losing battle.
He's so tired. So damn tired of losing.
He goes to bed feeling more unproductive, shitty, and useless than when he got up.
-.-
She doesn't know if it's seasonal depression or Percy's job struggles or just the fact that life has slowed down enough, long enough, for everything to catch up to her, but Annabeth isn't doing that great.
It's stupid because she can't pinpoint what her problem is. Her life is fine, she's fine, her job is fine, she can provide for herself. And yeah, her boyfriend is struggling, but their relationship is good, Piper's doing great and literally everything else is fine.
She has nothing to complain about. And yet she can't help that feeling….that feeling that something is wrong, something that's causing this rut.
"It's that time of year," Frank says over lunch one day, nodding at the cold grey skies.
She looks out the window, at the chunks of dirty snow plowed to the roadside and the field of grey that makes up the sky. "I guess," she says, turning back to half-heartedly pick at her food.
"How are you doing?" she asks, trying to shift the focus.
"Good, we're finally launching that project I told you about in a week, so that's been on the forefront right now."
Annabeth nods. She knows about the project. Frank has been telling her about it since he started working there after they graduated. She looks across the table to him and his salad. She had met him her freshman year of college in a lab and they had become immediate friends. He'd been there through her entire college career, from final projects that kept them up all night to struggling over code before class.
Frank always had an affinity for computer science, always working on side projects, and even now she can sense the excitement as he talks about his work.
"Do you like your job, Frank?" It's a question she's asked him before, but for some reason it springs to her mind now and she feels like she needs an update.
He munches on a cherry tomato. "Yeah, I mean, it gets tedious sometimes. but it's good. I want to stay with the company for a while at least, it's good experience."
"Yeah," she says for no reason in particular. Probably just to agree. Her mind feels a little jumbled and she looks back out at the grey skies.
Frank eyes her keenly. "Do you like your job, Annabeth?"
It's a question he's asked before too, but something in his tone causes her to turn towards him and meet his curious eyes.
Shrugging, she replies, "Yeah, it's alright."
"I know it's alright, but do you like it?"
She shrugs again as if she can shrug off the weight of his question. "Yeah, sure, it's fine, pays well, can't complain."
His silence says everything and she knows he's gotten his answer, that he gets it. Probably more than anyone else since they're in the same field. He lets out a sigh and picks up his fork again.
"But is it what you want?"
Annabeth doesn't have an answer to that question.
-.-
Percy's completely fed up with job applications and words that don't make sense and just all of it. Nico's out with Will, providing no distractions, and he's practically crawling up the walls of his apartment.
So when he shows up at his girlfriend's door, he hopes she'll let him kiss her until he can't think anymore.
But when she opens the door one look at her face tells him the vibe is completely different.
"What's up?" he asks her once he's inside.
She shakes her head. "Nothing, just watching Youtube."
He raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything as they settle down on the couch. Sure enough the TV is paused on a video, but Annabeth's biting her lip and it's obvious she has something on her mind. He hopes it's nothing about them.
"How do you get your thoughts on paper?" she asks after a minute of silence of him observing her.
The question catches him off guard. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs helplessly. "You once said that when your mind is messy you write to clear it out. How do you do that?"
It's ironic that she's asking about this now, when he just failed at writing anything cohesive only ten or so minutes ago.
"Um…I don't…" he starts, because how do you answer something as complex as that, but she's looking at him earnestly, so he tries to make an effort.
"Well, I guess I just try to take whatever I'm thinking or feeling and apply it to a story or a poem or something, like have my characters play it out and...it kinda lets me take whatever is going on in my head and quantifies that into words and a story. Then it's more organized then just floating around in my head, I guess."
Now that he's started talking about it he's on a roll. "And sometimes just writing it out helps me realize what it is that I'm feeling. But most of the time, writing a short story or a poem helps to just get it out, because if I can take the messiness and turn it into fuel for a story, then it's much more productive and I feel better thinking I've done something with it."
He stops talking to glance over at her. She's nodding slowly clearly trying to absorb every word.
After another moment, he speaks up. "Why do you ask?'
She sighs. "I guess my mind had just been everywhere lately and I'm trying to find ways to clear it up."
"Well, you don't have to write something the way I do, you could journal, or even like, paint something. Anything creative, really."
She huffs out a laugh "I'm not creative at all."
He frowns at that and shakes his head. That's exactly the kind of mindset he doesn't want her to have.
"That's not true. Everyone has their own sense of creativity. Mine is writing—which, by the way, is a pain in the ass— but that's not the only way. It can manifest in different ways even beyond the traditional forms, like food or music." He pauses to think for a moment, "You can be creative in your job, or the gifts you give your friends.. it could be anything, really."
He takes a deep breath and sinks back into her couch. "I just think creativity is really important. To everyone. It's important to create something, bring something out from yourself into the world…" he trails off, lost in thought.
She grabs his hand and shoots him a sweet smile. "Spoken like a true writer."
He shakes his head as his face falls. "I don't know about that. I haven't been able to write something decent recently, it's all coming out like shit—"
"You didn't tell me in that speech you just gave that whatever you create has to be good."
He stares at her with his mouth wide open, the words about how he's a failure still on the tip of his tongue, because if this was chess she's just checkmated him.
He slumps back and she puts a hand on his arm. "You've been having a rough go of it recently. It's okay."
He opens his mouth to refute her, to tell her about the rejection emails and the words in his notebook that didn't make sense, but the words die in his throat. Seeing this, she leans closer and kisses him, soft and sweet.
He melts into it, getting lost in the feel of her lips and the press of her body against his. Now this, this he can do. The quiet moan from Annabeth reinforces that at least he's not a failure when it comes to his girlfriend.
And with that, he lets himself feel loved and forget everything.
Even if it's just for a little while
A/N: And there you have it! Learning a bit more about the characters now and their struggles. The part of a relationship and life that usually doesn't get seen when a story ends after the characters get together I feel. But they're trying and making it work.
I hope you guys liked this, even though it was the exact opposite of the last chapter lol
Please Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
And as always, thanks for reading!
See ya! :)