Part Two:
He was the avalanche, and I was the snow,
Worries went forgotten, and fear let go.
You follow him for some time, weaving down a maze of dark alleyways and other dumpy looking places you normally wouldn't dare venture. The shadows of buildings and dumpsters cast strange shapes around you as the sun slips farther down, subconsciously putting your nerves on edge.
It's not very often you're like this. Usually, you're the one trying to convince your friends that it was all in their heads, and there was nothing to be afraid of. The problem was, your fears were all in your head. And that made them all the more difficult to get rid of. You were afraid of not living up to people's expectations, you were afraid of that voice that nagged you to no end. You were, undeniably, afraid of yourself. And there was absolutely no way that you knew of to conquer that fear.
The shadows hit a little too close to home.
Percy, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit fazed by your unnerving surroundings. On the contrary, he seemed right at home, casually leading you farther and farther into the urban labyrinth, humming something that sounded suspiciously like Hilltop Hoods.
He didn't falter once, and he seemed completely confident in his street navigating. It was as if he'd come this way a million times. And perhaps he had; there was no denying the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about him, and although you were sure he had no intention of purposely hurting you, it was still probable that his idea of a fun excursion through alleyways wasn't exactly…safe.
"Where exactly is it that we're going?" You ask, hugging his skateboard to your chest.
"You'll see!" he calls over his shoulder.
"You're sure you know where you're going, right? Because my parents will kill me if I get myself lost."
"Geez, tough parents. I wouldn't worry about it, though, because you wouldn't have gotten yourself lost. I would have gotten you lost. And to answer your question, yes, I do know where I'm going. Thanks for checking," he says the whole sentence without once breaking stride, and without the slightest bit of self-concern, considering he's just willingly placed his own head on your parent's chopping block.
"Your funeral," you mutter, not expecting him to hear.
He did hear, apparently. "Look, you need to lighten up a little. You St. Clarence people are wound up way too tight."
He was right, and you know it, but you're not going to give in that easily. "And how would you know that?"
He shrugs. "I get around."
You wait for further explanation, but none comes, and you fall back into silence, following him into a side street that looks like it was taken right out of a junkyard.
Elaborated: it looks like the trash of a mechanic and the trash of an electronics company fused and somehow ended up dumped in a New York side street.
Old tubs filled with everything from wires to lug wrenches were strewn around the ground in piles of oily snow; a cracked monitor is slumped sadly on top of an old radiator, and you can even see several used car batteries peeking out from behind a tire so large, you don't think it would fit any vehicle in the city of New York, much less one within radius of Manhattan.
Percy stops and spins on his heel to face you. "Ta da!" he says, spreading his arms wide as though he's just presented to you the very definition of nirvana.
You're not sure if this is some sort of joke, or if he's an actual nut job. What you do know is that the other end of the alley is blocked up by what looked like the back of a shop. A plain padlocked door is visible from behind the junk, and a drainpipe winds its way up the side of the building to the gutter. Perfect. Just Perfect. He'd gotten lost after all.
"Great work, Mr. GPS. It's a dead-end."
Percy scoffs. "The only thing that's dead around here is your sense of faith."
He turns around and starts running at full speed towards the door. Right when you think he's about to collide, he jumps, placing one foot on the door handle, then swinging himself around to use the drainpipe as a step, and finishing by somersaulting onto the roof.
It's all over so fast, you can hardly comprehend what just happened. Your brain is telling you he's down on the ground, but your eyes are telling you he's sitting up on the roof.
You stand with your mouth hanging open, trying to contemplate the physics needed to achieve the maneuver he's just completed. And then it hits you. He's waiting up there for you…he expects you to come up too.
"No. Absolutely not." You cross your arms and glare up at him. He smirks, and that only infuriates you more.
"It's alright, I'll help you. Pass up my board. And your backpack."
Your backpack? You can't just give him your backpack like that! Your laptop is in there!
He senses your hesitation. "Look," he huffs "I'm not gonna steal it, alright? If that's what I'd wanted, I wouldn't have brought you all this way to do it."
He had a point. He could probably have mugged you at any point in the journey. He looked fit, to say the least, and as much as it pains you to say it, you know you probably wouldn't stand much of a chance against him in combat.
It wasn't that you were helpless in any way; in fact, you were probably better matched than any of your other classmates, thanks to the after school karate lessons you negotiated with your mother for, but there was something about Percy – perhaps the stunt he just performed – that told you he would not be an easy adversary.
"Fine," you sign, after a considerable pause. "But don't you dare drop it."
He grins and leans over the edge to take the objects from your outstretched arms. "I wouldn't dream of it."
He disappears briefly from your vision, and you feel a squeeze of apprehension in the pit of your stomach for letting your laptop out of your sight.
He appears a few seconds later, though. His head peering over the edge at you.
"Right," he begins, clearing his throat. "See that tub over there? No, not that one, the one with the wheel hubs…yeah, that one. Dump it out."
"Seriously, right here on the ground? Isn't that kind of insolent?"
He shrugs, "Dump it in another tub if it makes you feel better. No one uses this stuff anyway."
You carefully remove the items from the container in question and place them in the others wherever there's room.
"Now place the tub upside-down in front of the door."
"Are you sure this will hold my weight?" The makeshift step looks cheap and anything but stable.
He mutters something about trust. "It's only like, what, a foot and a half to fall?"
"You're not much for reassurance, are you?"
More incoherent grumbling.
"Look, it'll support you, okay?"
You take his word for it and climb onto the rickety plastic.
"Not yet!" he yelps. You scramble backward as fast as you can in alarm, nearly tripping over your feet in the rush.
"I told you it would hold your weight. I didn't say for how long."
"What?"
"We're gonna have to be quick with this. When you're ready you're going to step on the tub, then quickly step on the door handle – it's locked, so you don't have to worry about it moving – then I'm going to grab your arm, and pull you up. You'll have to help me out by stepping here on the doorframe. Got it?"
"What are you, some kind of parkour expert?"
He brushes the question away. "Sorta."
Suddenly several puzzle pieces fall into place. "So that's how you got to the stoplight so fast," you mutter to yourself.
"Maybe. Now are you ready to come up, or not?"
A part of you wants to say no, you're not ready. Nor do you want to participate in any crazy idea he defines as fun; but you don't particularly want to go home either, and you've already made it this far. It would seem cowardly to back down now.
"I'm ready," you say, trying to put in an air of confidence and failing miserably.
You hastily step onto the container, and it tips precariously under you as you attempt to get your foot up onto the door knob. You probably look ridiculous, teetering on an upside-down tub with one leg in the air, struggling to get a foothold before your other foot falls through.
Eventually, you manage to get in what feels like a secure position, and with a grunt, you heave yourself up onto the handle; all your weight resting on a surface no bigger than your fist.
For a moment, your body sways uncertainly, like the ball on the edge of a basketball hoop. Unstable and unbalanced, you tilt backward over mid-air, your arms floundering uselessly for a hold.
And right when the ball is about to tip off the edge, a hand reaches out and stabilizes it.
His grasp is tight around your wrist, pulling you upright, and the tension enables you to stabilize yourself, flattening your side against the wall; distributing your weight accordingly until you're settled in a somewhat stable position.
You're at a height now where the gutter is even with your neck, so with Percy tugging on your arm, you're able to haul yourself up, using the frame above the door as a foothold like Percy suggested.
"This had better be worth it," you growl, once you've been towed over the edge onto the building. The roof is slick with ice, and the notion of standing up seems a bit far-fetched, so you stay rooted in the crouched-up position you're in.
"We're practically there," Percy pipes up, walking along the roof towards the far corner. He doesn't seem to be having any trouble staying upright.
You crawl toddler-style after him, the cold surface wasting no time in turning your hands red and numb.
How humiliating.
"This has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever done," you snap irritably. You know you're being a little harsh, but you don't like to be outdone. At anything. Especially by a human squirrel.
"It's just a little farther, and then you can go back to whatever it is you define as not stupid."
"Well, I think this would be a whole lot less stupid if you actually told me where the heck we're going."
"Ah, but that would be stupid of me to tell you where we're going on this stupid trip because then the stupidity of the trip won't be stupid anymore."
Huh? The absurdity of his comment takes you by surprise, and you grin in spite of yourself. "That makes absolutely no sense," you chuckle.
"That's the point. It's stupid."
"Well, I think you're stupid."
He laughs. It's a nice laugh, the kind that can instantly warm up a room, and you can just make out the white of his teeth through the quickly darkening air.
"Maybe I am," he smiles, hopping the short distance off your roof and onto its slightly less icy neighbor.
You follow him, nearly slipping as you take the leap, and he hands you your backpack on the other side.
You shrug it onto your back, and it's as you straighten out that you finally notice the magnificence of your surroundings.
You can see everything. Or what feels to you at this moment like everything. The whole city laid out before you. A trillion objects flickering like someone had strung everything with colorful Christmas lights. The mess of buildings you just walked through looks nothing like it did from ground level. Now it looks purposeful, deliberate. Like rows of stepping stones bridging the city together.
To your left, you can see the Hudson River, its waters glimmering with the reflected city lights, boats swimming lazily across its surface, glowing with yet more glittering lights, each one shining like a beacon.
You suck in an audible gasp.
Percy chuckles behind you. "It's not too bad, huh?"
"It's incredible," you breathe.
A small gust of wind blows past from the streets below you, bringing with it the heavenly scent of barbecue and pizza and freshly baked doughnuts and a plethora of other smells that shouldn't have gone well together, but somehow did.
It feels as though you've entered another dimension, far, far away from the dank, stinky streets you'd been wandering. You can't quite find the words to describe it, but then again you don't really want to; (Everything loses its magic once it's been named. Labels sucked the mystery and intrigue right out of everything) all that you know is that it felt like you'd been trapped underwater in the claustrophobic streets so long, and now you've finally broken through the surface to where you can breathe.
With the wind flapping around you and the newfound air in your lungs, you think you finally understand why people – Percy included – might do Parkour. You want nothing more than to just jump off this building and fly like a bird from roof top to roof top. There isn't any such thing as fear any more – fear is for the people down there on the ground who have yet to breathe. The people who are still suffocating amongst themselves under the surface – you couldn't be farther from them than you are right now.
Percy flops down near the edge of the roof and sits cross-legged with his chin in his hands; a rather childlike sort of position, though he's already made it abundantly clear that he's a childlike sort of guy.
You sit down next to him (but not too next to him, you leave a good arm's length between you) and gaze out over the river, still trying to shake the feeling that you're dreaming. It's like you're looking through someone else's eyes; that detached, trance-like feel where everything just seems to slow down. Perhaps you were so exhausted that you fell asleep somewhere between the café and your house, and all that happened since has just been the cause of your overly vivid mind.
The wind sounds tinny as it whistles past your ears, as though being played back through a recording.
"So, why?" you ask, turning to look at his face.
"Huh?"
"Why me? You brought me all the way up here, and I want to know why."
He chuckles. "I figured you needed a break. You should have seen your face, you looked like you hadn't slept in a year."
"That is not true." You huff.
"Hey, you asked, and I'm answering. You looked like you'd been to hell and back."
Had you really looked like that? It was hard to tell. Every time you looked in the mirror, you just saw you. Not the tired Annabeth you knew you were, with the dark circles and tired expression.
No; just you. Because when you look at yourself in the mirror, you'll see one of two reflections. Either the reflection that is the real one – the one where you see the depressed ruin you are – or the one you made to cover that one up. The one where you're just you. Because you're not depressed.
You're not. Because depressed people are supposed to lie at home and do nothing. And you just work harder.
"So when you see tired people you bring them here?" you ask, still confused.
"No, because this only happens now," he says, his answer frustratingly vague.
"What?" you ask, a tinge of annoyance seeping into your voice.
As it turns out, that question was unnecessary, and the moment it leaves your lips the world around you resonates with a staggering BANG.
The first thing that pulses through your mind as you jump out of your skin is explosion. Followed closely by aww crap.
But then come the lights. Brilliant, vibrant bursts of red and gold, raining down above the river as if the stars were falling right out of the sky. They whistle as they descend, sparkling like little flakes of fire before they snuff out and disappear into the darkness.
And then the drizzle turns into a downpour. More and more bangs sound off, like a machine gun but louder, each new pop making you jump even though you're expecting it. And the stars keep raining down like a meteor shower, exploding into flower-like shapes and then hissing feistily as they spiral towards the water, but never quite meeting their goal. Somehow fierce and beautiful at the same time.
Fireworks.
And suddenly the mystery of the crowded streets missing date fits into place. Of course there will be crowds. It's Chinese New Year. The spring festival.
It goes on and on, some of the fireworks coming so close that you're afraid the sparks will fall on top of you. But of course, they never do.
And by the time the last of the fireworks have faded, your fears have faded too. Sinking just like the flecks of ash deep into the Hudson. It doesn't matter that you're tired. It doesn't matter what your parents think. It doesn't matter if you're not good enough. The only thing that matters is that you're here, and you can breathe deeply and think freely and nobody is going to stop you.
And when it's all over, Percy leads you back to the ground and says goodbye, and you say goodbye too, even though you wish you didn't have too, for some reason.
And even though the cab ride home stinks, and when you check your phone you see that you've got five texts and six missed calls from your mother, telling you how much trouble you're in, it doesn't shake the euphoria.
Because for the first time in years, you feel completely tranquil. And you couldn't care less about anything.
And little did you know that this was far from the last you would be seeing of Percy.
A/N: So there's chapter two! Let me know what you think.
I completely fell in love with the idea of Parkour Percy, and had to do it. (Anyone who doesn't know what parkour is should look it up. It's crazy, but pretty amazing too.)
And a massive thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited last chapter. I love you guys so much! :)