Chapter 21 Counting Stars
The soul wills that something be supplied to it, it nods assent to itself
As though someone had posed a question and reaches out towards the
Fulfillment of what it wills.
~Plato's The Republic
Annabeth woke up with a stiff neck and incredibly tired. She had gotten back home around two in the morning. Percy had made sure that they drove her home and that she got into her apartment safe and sound. He claimed that you never know what could happen to a young woman in the early morning in New York City.
"I'm a big girl, Percy," she had argued last night when he had insisted they bring her home.
"I know you are, but that doesn't mean anything at three a.m. in New York City," Percy had countered back. In the end she had let him take her home after all of his friends had convinced her by ganging up on her.
Annabeth smiled at the thought of last night and wrapped her arms around her blanket and clutched it to her heart which was beating faster than it usually did. She didn't smile much, but something about Percy, about the way he grinned at her, the way he talked to her, the way he sang, it made her want to smile again and again.
She couldn't stop.
Climbing out of her bed and yawning she set about her apartment to begin making herself some coffee and then sat down in front of her small TV. She took a sip of her mug of coffee and then flipped the TV on.
The first thing she was met with was a flash of picture of Percy. She nearly fell out of her seat as the annoying news lady, Iris, came on the screen.
"And now back to our breaking story," she said with a cheerful grin. Annabeth rolled her eyes, if this was their breaking news then the TV station needed help. "Last night international singing sensation Percy Jackson sang at the club of his good friend Charles Beckendorf the retired center for the New York Nix. While there Percy Jackson sang a song which he entitled, The Writer.
Jackson says that the song was dedicated to a friend who has inspired him and lifted him up. However most of the public hardly believe that this 'friend' is only a friend. Some people are wondering if Ms. Rachel Dare, a self proclaimed artist in her spare time, is the girl referred to in the song as it mentions an artist. Others however are wondering if it was the mysterious blonde seen with Mr. Jackson at Ceres' a few nights ago. Has Percy Jackson managed to catch another one? Time will only tell. If you have any information about Mr. Jackson and his mysterious 'friend' we encourage you to call us."
The number flashed below the screen and Annabeth snorted. The lengths some people would go to try and get a hot story. She felt bad for Percy, always having the cameras flashing in his face and nosy reporters always trying to learn about his life.
Your life should be your life. It shouldn't be the gossip of others. It was just like highschool where everyone liked to obsess over the latest couples and the people who cheated on their boyfriend on their six week anniversary.
In other words, it was pathetic and a waste of time.
Annabeth laughed as more pictures of Percy were flashed on the TV screen, all of them focusing on his tussled raven black hair and captivating sea eyes.
She leaned back against her thrift store couch, clutching her mug in her hands. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened.
What could have happened?
If you had told her only a few weeks ago that she would be helping the famous Percy Jackson write his songs, she would have slapped them outside the face, judo flipped them, and then checked them into a mental hospital. A few weeks ago she despised Percy Jackson.
She thought he was selfish and conceited and not worth her time.
Now looking back on it, she was the one who was those things. Percy was anything but. She laughed when she tried to picture Percy as a manipulative and deceitful person. She just couldn't. Not when he got overly excited about blue milkshakes.
It was amazing how one thing, one moment could change your life for forever. One action could set you on a whole new course of action. If she had never posted her story, would she have ever met Percy? Would she still be depressed and contemplating things that shouldn't even enter your mind? What would have happened? One act can change your life for better or for worse and Annabeth was hoping that it was going to change her life for the best.
W4W: You never know when you'll meet him. You never know if maybe you'll miss him because you bent down to tie your shoe and he walked right past you, or maybe you decided not to go to your usual coffee shop where he'd be sitting with his friends. Maybe you'll be so focused on trying to make your struggling relationship work even though it never will that you can't seem to notice him. Or maybe he's your best friend and you never can see that he's madly in love with you, maybe you're just too blind to see. There are billions of people on this earth. How can we know who the "right" one will be? Well when the time comes, you'll know. But you have to be willing to open your eyes. Every action leads to another action. Every thought to another thought. And hopefully, every kiss to another kiss.
o.O.o
"I'll be back later tonight," Nico said as he pulled on his signature black leather jacket and grabbed his car keys from off the counter. "Don't do anything stupid when I'm gone. Just finish the songs, name your album and call it a night 'kay?" Nico said.
Percy leaned against the counter in the kitchen, massaging his temples. Last night he had drunk a bit too much and he was suffering from it this morning. "I've got it Nico, you're not my mother."
"No but I'm pretty sure Sally would say the same thing," Nico sighed. He checked his phone and then slid it into his pocket. "Well I'll see you later." He said and then turned and walked towards the elevator. "Hey Annabeth," he said as Annabeth Chase stepped into the apartment, carrying a messenger bag over her shoulder.
"Hi Nico, where are you off to?" She asked.
"I've got a meeting all day today," Nico said with a sigh. "Make sure Percy finishes those songs and he's got a bit of a hangover from last night."
Annabeth laughed. "I told him not to drink that much."
"Honestly he's gotten better, back in highschool he could out drink the whole entire highschool population," Nico said. "Well I've got to go. See you later Annabeth."
"See you Nico," she said as Nico headed out of the apartment and she headed into the kitchen where Percy was collapsed against the counter. "Hey Percy," Annabeth said, slipping her messenger bag off and putting it on the ground.
"Hey Annabeth," Percy said, standing up straighter and wincing. "You're here early."
She shrugged. "I didn't have anything better to do, have you eaten breakfast yet? I haven't and I'm starved."
"Famished," Percy agreed, perking up a bit more at the mention of food.
"What do you have in here?" She asked, opening the refrigerator which was probably worth as much as all of her kitchen appliances put together.
"I don't know," Percy said, "Usually we have a housekeeper make food or we order out. Nico's mastered the art of pasta and cheese so that gets us through when there's not much."
"You mean Nico can make mac and cheese, congratulations for him because it takes such a skilled chef to do that," Annabeth said sarcastically as she dug through the fridge which was jammed pack with all sorts of food. "Do you even eat calamari?" Annabeth asked, pulling the fish out of the fridge and looking at them with a look of disgust.
"Cala whaty?" Percy asked, coming up behind her.
"That's what I thought," she frowned.
"It looks like it still has its eyes," Percy said in all seriousness. "It's scaring me, it's like it's looking into my soul and is trying to figure out how to kill me."
Annabeth sighed and put it back into the fridge. "Yes Percy, the calamari is plotting on how to kill you, except for the fact that it's already dead."
Percy shrugged and leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen. "You never know, it could be a zombie," he said.
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Is there anything you can make? And no peanut butter and jelly does not count as something of substance for breakfast."
"I wasn't going to say that," Percy said indignantly. "And you never know, one day the only thing you could have to eat is pb&j and you're going to regret saying that."
"Sure Percy," Annabeth sighed again.
"I was going to say I can make pancakes."
"Perfect!" Annabeth said, smiling. "Get the pancake mix, which I assume you have, out and I'll get the eggs and milk and butter."
"Aye, aye captain," Percy said, in mock salute. Annabeth snorted and pulled the ingredients out. She then went hunting through the kitchen drawers for a large bowl which she found and pulled out triumphantly.
While Annabeth began to measure the milk, Percy cracked three eggs. "Percy!" She said.
"What?" He asked.
"You got eggshell in the bowl!" She said.
"Oh come on there's only a little bit," Percy whined.
"You can't have eggshells in pancakes," Annabeth said, taking a fork and trying to fish the eggshells out but failing.
"Here let me do it," Percy said, sticking a finger into the batter.
"Honestly Percy," Annabeth said, exasperated. "You can't just put your fingers in the batter."
"Well you wanted to get the eggshells out and the fork wasn't working so I tried the next best thing!" Percy said, grinning with that goofy smile Annabeth had somehow managed to become fond of.
"Whatever," she said as she poured the milk in and stirred it. Percy turned on the gas stove and put a frying pan on top and then sprayed it down.
Annabeth scooped a spoonful of batter out of the bowl and dropped it onto the frying pan, it sizzled when it hit the pan. She did the same for two other pancakes. "When do we flip them?" Percy asked impatiently.
"When they start bubbling, you know patience is a virtue," Annabeth said.
"But it's hard being virtuous so why be it?" Percy said. "It's more fun being impatient." Annabeth sighed and shook her head.
Percy made a movement to snag a bit of batter out of the bowl. Annabeth tried to stop him but she wasn't fast enough and he danced away, right out of her range, grinning as he licked his fingers. "It tastes good," he grinned. "But it's missing one thing."
"Oh and what's that?" Annabeth asked, putting her hands on her hips. Percy gave her a mischievous grin and then opened a drawer. He went over to the bowl and put three drops for a little bottle into the bowl and then stirred it.
The batter became a bright blue.
"Perfect!" Percy said.
"Really Percy?" Annabeth asked, shaking her head.
"You can't have pancakes it they're not blue," Percy said as if everyone knew that. "Hey look they're bubbling!" He said. Annabeth quickly slipped her spatula underneath the pancake and flipped it. She did the same for the next two.
"They smell amazing," Percy said, his stomach grumbling. He reached for some more batter but this time Annabeth was ready. She flicked her spatula over at him, sending batter at his face. "Hey!" Percy said as Annabeth laughed.
Percy looked at her with a strange glimmer in his eyes as he turned around and cupped his water under the faucet. He filled it with water and then flung it at Annabeth.
"Hey!" Annabeth squealed. She grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it at Percy. He responded by grabbing the bag of flour from her hand and throwing it at her. She screeched as it covered her in a white powder. "Perseus Jackson!" She yelled but she was grinning. She threw an egg at him but he dodged it and it hit the wall, splattering in a great glory of yellow.
"Oh gods Percy I'm so sorry! I'll clean it up!" She said.
"Ha! Clean it up! Why do you think I've got a house keeper?" Percy asked as he responded by throwing his own egg at Annabeth. She ducked and then grabbed some grapes which were in a bowl on the counter and began pelting Percy with them. He laughed and then grabbed his own spoon and scooped out some of the batter and flung it at her. She side stepped it and it hit the wall behind her.
"Give up yet?" She taunted.
"Never," Percy grinned and then he tackled her to the ground and proceeded to run his messy hands through her curls affectively ruining her hair.
"Ah! Percy stop you big oaf!" She said, trying to push him off as he grinned at her.
"Not till you surrender," he said.
"Seaweed Brain," she said, glaring at him.
"I might be but I'm the one who has you pinned to the ground. So I'd just surrender right now and we'll call it even," Percy grinned.
"Okay, okay, I surrender, now get off of me you big lug!" She said, shoving him with her hands. He stood up and offered her his hand. Annabeth brushed the flour off of her jeans. "Great," she said. "I'm a mess."
"As is the kitchen," Percy said and shrugged. "I'll clean up in here if you want to shower. I can wash your jeans but I doubt your shirt is going to make it out alive," he said, pointing to the grey blouse that Annabeth was wearing. "I have a pile of random t-shirts I get from the different organizations I play for. You can wear one of those."
"Fine," Annabeth said. "Where's your shower."
"I'll show you," Percy said, smiling.
o.O.o
Annabeth was trying to find Percy's stash of regular t-shirts which he had told her was somewhere in his closet. He just had forgotten to mention that his closet was as big as her apartment. And that it was filled with more clothes than Macey's.
"No wonder it takes him forever to get ready. He probably gets lost," Annabeth muttered to herself. And the fact that it was completely unorganized did not help at all. She moved around a random pile of pants and a box filled with different shoes. She was pretty sure that none of them matched. "How the heck does he manage to find anything that he needs?" She wondered as she plucked a strangely patterned shirt from off the floor and flung it to the side.
She finally found a pile of random t-shirts, all of which were a bit large for her. She picked one up, it advertised Riki's so she didn't mind wearing it, unlike the other one that blazed I LOVE BOOBIES! across the front of it. Sure it was to support Breast Cancer and she had no problem with supporting it but she wasn't sure she wanted to wear that in front of Percy.
As she grabbed the shirt and pulled it on over her wet curls, she was intrigued by a brown box in the pile of shirts. She picked it up and opened it. Inside were dozens of envelopes, all with broken seals of crimson. Annabeth felt her hands trembling as she reached in and picked one up. Setting the box on a nearby shelf, she pulled the contents out and gasped.
She recognized that handwriting.
She saw it every day when she wrote:
I know that every little girl at one point of time or another wants to be a princess but you know something? I've never been pulled towards the idea of being a princess. Princesses just always seem like the damsels in distress and I hate being thought of as weak. I don't want to be weak. I want to create my own story.
I think I mentioned that in my first letter. I want to write my own story, with my own pen in hand. I don't want to listen to what people tell me I can and can't do. I think that's why I'm a writer, because I like to create worlds for my characters where they can live and breathe and I can control them. Isn't it sad that I myself feel like I have no control over my own life? Why just yesterday my dad and stepmother told me that I had to go to an academic tournament and I told them I didn't want to. You want to know their response? "When you're eighteen you can decide what to do with your life, but until then your mother and I decide what you do." Those were my dad's exact words.
Well I don't want to be controlled. I'm planning on doing things so great and wonderful that hopefully someone will remember me. I want to be my own hero.
But that isn't to say that I don't want a prince charming. I do. I just don't want to be a damsel in distress. Do you understand? Maybe not. So I'll try my best to. I don't want to be the girl who everyone pities because she can't do anything for herself and she has to rely on a man and if her man leaves her she spends her time crying and pouting. (AKA many of the terrible heroines in YA novels. A reason why I'll write something better than that. I mean there are exceptions but… okay I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry).
I want my hero to love me and to protect me but also to understand that I like to protect myself at times to. I'm not helpless and I'm not weak.
I am me.
That's it.
I'm myself.
And no one is going to change that.
W4W- I'm holding on for a hero. While I'm not your average damsel in distress, I'm strong and I'm brave, I'm still waiting for a hero. I'm waiting for a man to come and sweep me off my feet, to love me and to protect me with his life. To love me and understand me even thought I have too many faults to count. I'm waiting for him. But I'm not going to just wait. No I'm going to find him.
Post Script- Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Annabeth felt the letter flutter from her hand and hit the ground.
Percy Jackson had read the letters.
Her letters.
o.O.o
"There you are, I was wondering if you got lost, I mean my closet's big but it's not that big," Percy said, grinning as Annabeth walked into the kitchen. He had cleaned it up and there was a plate of pancakes on the kitchen island and a large pitcher of orange juice as well. "I finished the pancakes and I don't think I burnt them too bad and…" he stopped and looked at her.
There was a dazed expression on her face as if she had seen a ghost. "Hey what's wrong?" He asked, walking towards her. That was when he saw what was in her hands.
It was a small brown box.
It was his box.
"Where did you get that?" Percy asked, his voice full of tension and anger. How could she touch that box? That was his and only his. That held some of the most precious things that he had and no one was supposed to touch them. He didn't even let Nico touch them.
"I found it in your pile of shirts," Annabeth said softly.
"That doesn't give you permission to touch it!" Percy said, snatching the box out of her hands and clutching it tightly like it was a lifeline.
He wasn't willing to give her up yet.
No, not yet.
"I know," Annabeth said.
"These are extremely personal! How could you touch them? I wouldn't barge into your house and touch your notebooks with your stories," Percy said angrily.
"You kept them," she said so quietly that Percy almost missed it.
"What?" He asked, confused.
Annabeth looked up at him bravely, her grey eyes flashing dangerously. "They're as much mine as they are yours," she said.
Percy looked at her confused. "What do you mean?" He asked.
"First letter, you found it in a book about the Revolutionary War, I think it was called the War for America."
Percy felt his heart stop.
"The last letter was found in Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis because the writer was leaving for California."
"You're… oh gods," Percy said, stumbling backwards.
Annabeth looked at him, a soft smile across her face. "Hi Percy, I'm the Letter Writer."
Percy sat on the couch in his studio, holding the letters in his hands, looking through each one of them. Annabeth sat next to him, silent.
"So you wrote the letters?" He asked. She nodded. Percy took a deep breath. "You have no idea how long I wanted to write back to you, how much I wanted to and yet I never had the courage to. I was afraid that you would think I was dumb or something. Everything I tried to write just sounded so… childish compared to yours. I always was better at music." He took a ragged breath, he could feel the sobs rising up in his throat.
All these years, these years of searching, of longing.
And his letter writer was sitting in the same room as him.
And she was also the two other girls he had fallen in love with.
Three in one.
Beautiful.
Perfect.
"And then you left and I felt… I felt betrayed and abandoned. You have no idea what those letters did for me. I was falling in love with a girl I had never seen, never met and yet it felt perfect. I felt like I was talking to her and through her letters every time I grew more and more in love with her. And then… then you left." He clenched his fists angrily.
"I was mad at first, and then I was grief stricken. And then I made a promise. I promised that I would live for you." He set his jaw and looked straight ahead. "Once I graduated from highschool, heck I graduated! None of my teachers thought I would. I went to Europe with Nico, we traveled all through Europe because I knew that you wanted to. And I decided to do it for you. If you couldn't I would."
He took another long pause and then began again. "Did you know that I was a part of a gang in high school? I was pretty good at being bad. I was addicted to drugs and alcohol and I had begun cutting myself." Percy pulled the sleeves of his shirt up and showed her the scars on his wrists. "I was done with life.
And then one day, when I forced to be tutored, I found a letter in a book. And that letter changed my life. I don't know how it happened but suddenly I wanted to live. I wanted to live because I wanted to find you. I wanted to meet you and love you and gods… I wanted to kiss you."
Percy noticed tears in Annabeth's eyes as he spoke, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"And then you left… but I never could forget you. How could I forget the girl that actually made my life worth something? All this," he said, waving around the room at the instruments. "All of it was for you. I wanted to earn money so I could find you and take you to Europe and show you the whole world."
Percy stood up and grabbed his iPod from off of the table, he came back and sat down next to Annabeth. "Every song I ever wrote was based off of your letters. Maybe that's why you could write my songs so well, you understood what was in my heart." He scrolled through his playlist. "This one's my favorite," he said.
His voice flooded the speaker. He was playing a guitar and his voice was cracking with emotion as if you could hear the pain and love all in the same song.
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby I've been playing, I've been playing hard
Said no more counting dollars we'll be counting stars
Yeah we'll be counting stars.
I see this life like a swinging vine
Swing my heart across the line
In my face is flashing signs
Seek it out and ye shall find.
Old but I'm not that old
Young, but I' m not that bold
And I don't think the world is sold
I'm just doing what we're told
I feel something so right
By doing the wrong thing
And I feel something so wrong
By doing the right thing
I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie
Everything that kills me, makes me feel alive
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby I've been playing, I've been playing hard
Said no more counting dollars we'll be counting stars
Yeah we'll be counting stars.
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby I've been playing, I've been playing hard
Said no more counting dollars we'll be counting stars
Yeah we'll be counting stars.
I feel the love
And I feel it burn
Down this river every turn
Hope is a four letter word
Make that money
Watch it burn
Old but I'm not that old,
Young but I'm not that bold
And I don't think the world is sold
I'm just doing what we're told
And I feel something so wrong
By doing the right thing
I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie
Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby I've been playing, I've been playing hard
Said no more counting dollars we'll be counting stars
Yeah we'll be counting stars.
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby I've been playing, I've been playing hard
Said no more counting dollars we'll be counting stars
Yeah we'll be counting stars.
Take that money, watch it burn
Sing in the river the lessons I've learned
Everything that kills me, makes me feel alive
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby I've been playing, I've been playing hard
Said no more counting dollars we'll be counting stars
Yeah we'll be counting stars.
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
But baby I've been playing, I've been playing hard
Said no more counting dollars we'll be counting stars
Yeah we'll be counting stars.
Take that money, watch it burn
Sing in the river the lessons I've learned
When the song slowly died away Percy hit the power button and turned to face Annabeth. Tears were streaming down her face. "You know what that's based off of right?" She nodded. "I don't care about money at all, I care about stars, I care about wishing on them and counting them. The stars are a promise. Right now in society everyone tells me that I'm doing the wrong thing but it feels so good. And doing what they tell me to do feels so wrong. Why is that? I don't know why. But I'm counting stars now, not dollars."
"That was one of your Words for the wise that made me decided to go into music. So that I could finally share these words which have been haunting my mind ever since I read them," Percy said with a heavy sigh. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. And then I think about all the people who tell me that they're changed by my lyrics and I keep doing it."
"But really Annabeth, they're yours. All of these songs are based off of you and your ability to write and change. I should have known it was you when I read your story. There's something about you, about your writing that's just so perfect. And I feel it. I feel it deep in my bones. My heart feels it.
Annabeth Chase, you're one amazing girl."
Annabeth's voice cracked as she began to speak. "I never thought… gods… I never thought my letters would do something like this. I never thought that… well I never thought that they'd change someone. This is crazy and weird and strange and yet at the same time it's perfect and amazing. How can that even make sense?" She asked, tears in her voice.
"Sometimes the most beautiful things in life are the crazy things, the things you never thought would be possible," he whispered, quoting one of her own letters.
Percy looked her straight in the eyes, green seas meeting grey skies. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she looked broken and weary, bruised and tired.
And yet in her brokeness.
He had never seen anything so beautiful.
He leaned in closer to her.
It felt right.
It felt like Heaven on earth.
He pressed his lips to her.
And for once in both of their lives:
Everything was perfect.