SUMMARY: Percy Jackson has a crush: on the bright moon that keeps him company during his night shifts, while he works at a common bar. However, falling in love with a trigger-happy moon goddess doesn't exactly fill the "crush" department. In which Artemis is both amused and horrified at the love-stricken bar boy, Percy likes the sound of trouble, and Aphrodite laughs from above. Pertemis
After his shift, Percy went back to his apartment and sunk into his bed, sleeping almost as soon as his back touched the light mattress. As he slept, Percy dreamt of being an astronaut. The funny thing about it was that Percy had never even entertained the idea of getting to...choose his own job. Percy had always been the kind of kid who'd crack a joke instead of answering questions about the future. His high-school counselor called him picky when it came to careers, but it wasn't that. Rather, it was really a mixture of embarrassment and indecisiveness.
Even now, while he worked as a bartender, he wasn't sure what his "dream job" was.
Hell, if he had a genie in his pocket, he wouldn't know what to wish for.
So because of that, the dream was completely foreign and indescribably surreal. A pair of NASA scientists talked to him, hazy lines blotting their faces out, while Percy held an astronaut's helmet—his helmet—under the crook in his elbow. Percy felt himself nod a few times, while their faces blurred in and out. He felt like sludge as he walked to the rocket and boarded it, clicking the seatbelt in place; he felt slow and hulking as he zoomed across the night sky. The rocket was stark against the darkness, pale and red like a candy cane. Flashing white stars met his vision, and he saw nebulas and black holes darting around in the background, perfectly picturesque like a postcard.
He slid his gaze across the cartoonish rocket's window, eagerly moving it this way and that, trying to find the main attraction.
La pièce de résistance.
The moon—
—except it wasn't really a moon.
A beautiful woman was there instead. Long coils of free-flowing auburn hair moved in the nonexistent breeze, startlingly bright with movements that reminded Percy of fire. She wore a beautiful dark silver dress that was loose at the ankles, dotted with a million little stars. Percy felt big and strange in his astronaut's uniform, and so he took off the huge, heavy helmet. He knew the lack of oxygen, or some other scientific thing, would kill him, but he just didn't care.
The woman came more clearly into focus, and seeing her up close…it was strange and ethereal. She didn't smile, didn't frown—she just stood there, letting him soak in her divine presence.
Then Percy felt faint-headed.
Light was coming from all angles, and he wasn't sure if it was from the woman or from oxygen-deprivation. Everything was zooming in and out at such a large magnitude that he was unsure if the woman was thirty feet tall or three. Then it all came spiraling to a halt, flashing black, and Percy took a deep breath, and—
—he woke up.
New York City was still alive at night—all neon lights glittering and ads flashing and pissed-off drivers honking and drunk people cheering—and Percy stared at it through his apartment window, his hand over his apartment window's cold glass. The dream he'd had five minutes ago felt like lifetimes ago. He still felt the remnants of the dream, he air in his lungs coming out in more panicked bursts.
Percy looked up at the dark sky, where his city's lights blotted out the stars.
The moon stared at him innocently through the foggy window, and everything, including his apartment, was bathed in its soft, caressing light. It was like a silver blanket, finely threaded and stretching endlessly across New York. Once upon a time, the moon might've been beautiful, reassuring even, to Percy. Now, poisoned by context, it felt sinister.
"Artemis," Percy said drolly, like the name was instinct.
The moon—and the goddess herself, in a sense—had always watched over Percy, comforting and contained. It was different now. The moon was no longer some neutral space rock.
Percy fisted his hand on the glass, slightly annoyed. His dark sea-green eyes were squinty but steadfast. Percy grabbed one of his dark curtains harshly, then the other, and drew them together almost violently. He went back to bed, his arms and legs together in a fetal position. The curtains rustled in the background, but Percy resigned himself to sleeping, his face pressed deeply into his pillow.
The moon peeked through the corners of the flimsy curtains.
Percy woke up at ten AM, and he sluggishly got out of bed, telling himself it was a new day. He grabbed his phone and played some generic pop song to get himself out of the weird astronaut dream he'd had.
He forced himself to ignore the connotations of what having a dream about the moon as a woman after chatting with a moon goddess meant. He brushed his teeth. He put on a plaid tan shirt and a pair of navy jeans, called it a day, and walked out. Today, he was going to meet with his coworkers, and even though he was tired and confused and unsatisfied from his space dream, he was going to be optimistic about it.
They were going to have an excellent brunch at a café not far from his apartment.
Optimism was an easy emotion to fake. It required only one step: ignoring all his problems. Percy breathed in deeply, smoothing the uneven creases of his shirt (a habit he'd gotten from bartending), while reciting some cheesy motivational quote. He'd gotten the habit of staying positive from his mother.
Sally loved writing little encouraging notes on every day of a calendar, even though all of the messages essentially communicated the same messages of self-love. Once upon a time, they'd been cute three-or-four-word statements like:
You've got this.
Seize the day.
I believe in you.
You are amazing.
Sally had only stopped four months ago, when the doctor had given her "The News." The motivational quotes on the calendars faded into crucial doctor appointments, faded into Percy's biweekly visits, faded into nothing. The calendar wasn't even flipped to the right month anymore, still stuck in cheery May, where peeling black Sharpie revealed old messages.
It was August now, chilly and tense with the promise of fall, but May's messages stayed in Percy's head. Thinking about them made him feel all-powerful, like a mighty god. He felt like he could seize the day, he felt like he was believed in, he felt like he was amazing... When he read them, he felt tinges of pride and happiness.
Especially, after reading, You are loved.
It filled him with a nameless emotion—a warm, giddy feeling that was hard to replicate. Percy did not underestimate Sally and his friends' big hearts, but sometimes...sometimes—
Enough with all the self-deprecating talk, Percy thought to himself and pulled out his cracked phone's GPS.
Piper had sent a nudging reminder and directions to a small local café, which Percy had followed pretty closely. He turned another right, trying to avoid bumping a crowd of college-students, and he blinked up from his GPS to the location in front of him. It was a small brown building below an apartment, discreet but not completely unpopular. Reddish, but browning, leaves were spread across the pavement, all in the relative direction of the café, like some grand red carpet. On the top of the café, there was squished-in, golden cursive writing—which triggered Percy's dyslexia tenfold—reading A Cup of Joy.
The place was a mixture of cliché, cozy, try-hardy, and ugly—but now he could totally see why Piper had chosen the place. Piper purposefully went to un-extravagant places to distance herself from her wealth, and A Cup of Joy fit the bill. Percy could not relate to Piper's "struggles," and in his lifetime, he probably never would.
Percy breathed—in, out. Maybe it'd be nice to be served drinks, instead of having to serve.
Percy walked in.
He was instantly greeted by a friendly barista, and also assaulted by a million autumn smells. There was pumpkin spice, cinnamon, and sugar in the air, and Percy felt a bit overwhelmed. Everything felt gooey and sweet.
He wasn't sure if it was necessarily a good or bad thing yet.
He stared around at the brown and orange tables. There was a menu above him, and it was all in the same annoying cursive from before. Percy squinted at it, trying to discern letters from the curly lines, and before he gave himself a migraine, Piper waved from the table.
Piper was dressed in a casual white T-shirt and ripped jean-shorts, earphones hanging loosely from her ears. She grinned like her life depended on it. Nico sat next to her—wearing his on-brand, all-black clothing—while staring off at the distance. He met Percy's eyes, and he perked up a bit, smiling tightly.
Percy allowed himself a half-smile, and he sat down next to him.
"Like it?" asked Piper, taking long whiff of the smell of pumpkin spice and coffee. Before Percy got the chance to open his mouth and interject that the place was so Piper and that he really shouldn't be surprised, Piper said, "Actually, I know you'll love it, lover boy. It has the best coffee in all of New York City."
Percy glanced around, brows raised all the way to his hairline. "I don't know how much I'll like it. I don't drink coffee."
She guffawed and looked at a blank-faced Nico, as if for validation. "Really?"
Percy shrugged. There was a tiny tilt to his lips, something almost like a smile. "The smell is too strong."
"Why'd you agree to coming here if you don't want a cup of coffee?" She said "cup of coffee" like "cuppa coffee."
"There has to be other stuff here too, right?" replied Percy quickly, staring at the ugly cursive menu. As if to add to the illegibility to the horrible script, it was white on gold. A headache in the making for Percy.
"But you need to get coffee," Piper whined with wide eyes. "It's a magical experience, Jackson."
"There are other things, too." Nico's eyes barely met Percy's face, and Percy wondered if he'd forgotten something important—Percy had shaved yesterday, right? The boy's onyx-black gaze darted away, nervous and tense. "Piper is just being dramatic."
Piper laughed. "Can't help it. Coffee is my first love."
"Mine, too," chimed a girl's voice. Admittedly, from sound alone, Percy wasn't able to discern who it was, but it was a nice voice: raspy, slightly judgy, sweet. Familiar, but hard to place without its typical slurring. Percy looked up.
Pretty blonde curls bounced on tan shoulders. Intelligent grey eyes peeked out through black-tinted sunglasses.
Annabeth blew a strand of her perfect hair from her face. And she sat down...
...next to Percy.
Percy instinctively flinched. It had been a month—two months?—since he'd last seen Annabeth crying in a bar. Now she was sporting a wide smile, sweat gleaming off her shoulders, workout clothes on. Percy could not help scooting a bit towards Nico's side, not in avoidance but in awkwardness.
He had not noticed the extra chairs—he'd assumed one was for Zoё, but the other had slipped his mind as an afterthought. (Maybe, maybe, some part of him was sure Thalia would be there.)
Percy had not expected to talk to sober-Annabeth anytime soon. She always came to Moonlit Liquor to drink herself sick and talk to Percy in riddles. He hadn't talked to a not-drunk Annabeth in six years, and even though the difference was just how much alcohol she'd consumed, it still filled Percy with a slight bit of dread.
"Nico, this is Annabeth," Piper said, completely oblivious to Percy's inner thoughts. "Annabeth, Nico." Nico and Annabeth noiselessly nodded at each other in greeting. "And well, Annabeth, I don't need to introduce you to our resident lover boy, do I?" A not-so-subtle gesture at Percy's direction. Percy could've sworn Piper had winked.
Percy waved. He hoped it looked less awkward than he felt.
You're doing great. Seize the day. You are loved.
The sun glistened from the windows, creating a halo around Annabeth's head. She smiled at Percy calmly.
Everything felt too bright. The sun's rays dancing off of the windows, the golden paint, the holiday music, the strong smell of coffee and pumpkin, Annabeth Chase glittering in sweat and smiling. It was nothing like the dark, contemplative silence of Moonlit Liquor, and some part of Percy hated the coffee-shop because of it.
Silence descended upon them, awkward and tight and uncomfortable.
"So…" Percy distantly registered the voice as Piper's. "What would everyone like? I know Nico's getting an oreo milkshake, and I'm getting a pumpkin spice latte…"
The bright orangish-gold of A Cup of Joy was like a physical noose.
Percy attempted a smile. "I'll have…" He squinted, but the letters seemed to move around on the menu, flying around and enjoying Percy's misery. He waited for someone to save him and offer suggestions, but nothing came. Anxiety was a knot in his stomach and a gut-punch in his throat. "Um…uh…"
"Do you need help with the menu, Seaweed Brain?" Annabeth asked and laughed. The nickname gave Percy a burst of sudden, lovely nostalgia. Percy smiled sheepishly, and Annabeth said, "Coffees, teas, milkshakes, smoothies, cakes, cookies, and sandwiches. Take your pick."
"Er…a sandwich." He squinted some more, and he finally made out words. He sighed in relief. "Turkey."
"And I'll get a black coffee." Annabeth smiled at Percy some more.
Percy remembered his astronaut dream, from only a few hours before. Somehow, this felt more surreal than that.
They ordered and settled down. Zoё came sometime later and ordered lemon tea.
Percy wanted to ask why Piper had invited Annabeth over for brunch. Piper knew that they were high-school sweethearts, and that the break-up was tense and uncomfortable...at least, on Percy's side. He really wanted to ask why, but he couldn't form the words; it felt rude to ask.
Percy took a bite out of his turkey sandwich. It was too dry, and the mayo was grainy and grey.
"Have you been here before, Piper?" Percy asked finally, because he did want to chat with his coworkers and enjoy himself.
"Once in a while. I really like the bright feel of it, y'know... I feel like you need some sunshine in your life, Jackson," Piper admitted, and before Percy could dwell on the second part, she smiled and added, "with all your time pining after the moon."
Zoё cracked a smile, and Nico bit his lip, eyes filled with mirth. Perhaps Percy was reading too much into it, but Annabeth seemed to straighten at Piper's words, setting her black coffee down to blink up at them curiously.
"Hah-hah," Percy said, his tone as dry as his turkey sandwich. "Very funny."
Percy had the feeling Piper was still worried for him. Last night, he had made a fuss about hearing voices, and although he'd told her at the end of her shift that he was mistaken, she still seemed concerned.
A jazzy café was probably Piper's idea of brightening Percy's day, and although her plan was only working in spades, Percy still respected his friend's attempt.
It still didn't explain why Annabeth was here.
"What's with this moon thing?" Annabeth finally asked, her mouth pursed. "Is it because of the bar's name, or...?"
Piper smiled, delighted to regale Annabeth with the tragic tale of two lovers—one in the mortal world, one in the eternal plains above. "Even tied together by the deepest sort of love, of true, unwavering amore, they will still be forever apart," she finally finished, her voice becoming airy, her eyes filled with emotion. "Star-crossed lovers, you could say."
"O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon. That monthly changes in her circle orb. Lest that thy love prove likewise variable," Zoё recited impeccably. When she was met with confused looks, she rolled her eyes and said, "Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare."
Annabeth's nose wrinkled. Percy had a similar reaction. Shakespeare had been the bane of his existence in high-school, but Zoё ate up his words like it was a first-class meal. But Percy did find it interesting that the moon was referred to as a "she." It reminded him of Artemis.
The whole conversation reminded him of Artemis.
"Zo, never talk to me in Shakespeare ever again," Percy said strictly. "And you, Piper, have got to stop with the lovey-dovey talk. You're like an evil matchmaker."
A smiling Piper shrugged, easy mirth in her eyes. She turned to Annabeth and waggled her eyebrows. "He's not wrong," Piper said, taking a sip out of her pumpkin spice latte. Cinnamon and white foam got on her lips and cheeks. "But I'm very qualified for the job, Jackson."
"Oh, please," Percy replied. "All you do is wax love stories, unable to partake in your own. That's a tragedy right there."
Piper's smile became mischievous, and Percy felt himself tense. "Is that right?" she asked. She pulled out her phone and showed him the home-screen. A handsome blond boy with blue eyes, a tiny cut by his mouth, and glasses was smiling there. Percy recognized him as Jason, one of the regulars at Moonlit Liquor, and Percy's eyes widened. Piper set her phone down, crossing her arms all self-assured: "Like I said: qualified."
"Wow, you've been busy." While Piper had been out here fetching dates with customers, Percy had been talking—and upsetting—an all-powerful moon goddess.
Speaking of dates and romance, something was starting to click in Percy's brain—
Piper...matchmaker...Annabeth...me...exes...together...
Percy sunk into the chair, a painful headache forming in his skull. It was all too bright, and Percy felt an unwitting blush creep up his cheeks. It felt obvious now, knowing Piper's love of, well, love. The café felt small and claustrophobic, the conversation estranged and far-off, so Percy did what he did best—
"Hey, it's been nice catching up with you guys, but I have a grocery shift starting soon. Let's do this again sometime," said Percy quickly. Maybe, too quickly, considering Piper's confused expression.
Percy stood up. He picked up his turkey sandwich and lifted it up, like he was saying cheers. After goodbyes were exchanged, Percy smiled contritely and filed out as quick as he could. He ran through the streets, until he was a "safe" distance away from A Cup of Joy.
The gold and brightness faded off in the distance, leaving the silver of the city.
Percy walked around the block near his apartment, unsure if he wanted to head back to his apartment so soon. He did have a grocery shift, and although he didn't have one anytime soon, he just didn't want to head back to his apartment just yet. So he strolled around, liking the sound of his sneakers' heels clicking off of pavement, liking the sound of New York City whizzing around him. The air smelled of street meat and laundry, but at least it didn't feel artificial and sickly sweet.
He looked up and saw the Empire State Building, self-important and silver. The building was cutting through the sky's sunrise like butter on a glinting knife. Percy took a seat on the rough sidewalk, and closing his eyes, he let out a sigh.
A/N: This chapter is a little lighter than the others—and Artemis wasn't really a main player in it—but I hope you still enjoyed it. I'm pretty tired, so this chapter is also unedited. There are some NYC inaccuracies, since I've never been, so heads-up on that.
I know it's been months since the last update, but I've been time-crunched and stressed with work and didn't get a chance to really write anything. Thank you to everyone who's been commenting and PMing me about the story; I really enjoy writing it, but it's really those comments that motivate me to actually type things out.
Speaking of my hiatus, I was planning to keep the story on-pace with real life (hence why I was writing August chapters in August), but alas, it has fallen. At least, it's in the same season? Oof