Chapter Text
Annabeth grimaced at the crook in her neck as she walked past the gate and into Terminal 6, her beat-up suitcase squeaking along beside her. She had slept for the entirety of the nearly 6-and-a-half hour redeye, body contorted in a microscopic economy seat that had also left her back aching and knees begging for mercy. The hand that had been rubbing her neck fell down to the small of her back in a pathetic effort to relieve the pain as she walked past a gaggle of teenage girls squished into a row of seats by the gate.
“Are you sure he’s coming out of this gate?” One asked intensely, her leg bouncing up and down so fast Annabeth wouldn’t be surprised if she started flying through the gate herself.
“Of course I’m sure!” Another girl, clearly the queen bee with her sleek, polished hair and perfectly winged liner, answered, glancing in between her friend and her cell phone. She was furiously typing something, acrylic nails going clack clack clack against the screen. “It was on PJDaily on Twitter. They’re always right. He’ll be here.”
He’ll be here. A yawn escaped Annabeth’s lips as she continued her trek down the terminal, moving out of earshot of the girls. They were waiting for a celebrity, no doubt. Who that celebrity was was a bit more difficult to narrow down. If Annabeth took a shot for every celebrity that passed through the halls of LAX on a daily basis, she would be hospitalized for alcohol poisoning in less than an hour.
Another yawn. A glance down at her watch told her it was 8:30. If she were still in New York, she would be on her second cup of coffee by now - preferably from Juno’s Java, the small cafe across the street from her apartment where she was on a first-name basis with the entire staff. She doubted any of the disgruntled baristas at the various coffee shops of LAX gave a single fuck about what her name was (not that she blamed them - having worked in the service industry herself to get her through college, she knew all too well the horrors of customer service), but she was far too tired to care. Desperately, her eyes scanned the restaurants around her in search of any establishment that would serve her an ice cold cup of sugary caffeine.
Bingo, she thought when her gaze settled on Alfred Coffee. The tiny cafe was, to the shock of no one, packed with travelers eager for their morning fix. Annabeth had just settled in line when her phone began to frantically buzz against her thigh. She pulled it out of her pocket to see Piper’s thirteen year-old face staring back at her. The chubby cheeked, braces-clad girl with a smattering of acne across her forehead on her screen was the Piper McLean that Annabeth had met halfway through eighth grade when her father shipped her off to live in San Francisco with her grandmother after one too many failing report cards.
Piper had waltzed into first period Algebra 1 exuding a level of confidence no middle schooler starting at a new school in the middle of the year ever had, sliding into the empty desk next to Annabeth at the direction of Mrs. Dodds, the batty and ancient teacher.
What surprised Annabeth even more than her confidence, however, was how Piper didn’t seem to notice how every single pair of eyes in the room were glued on her. It was like a spell had been cast over the twenty-three other middle schoolers as Piper ran a hand through her thick, choppy locks before reaching into her Hello Kitty backpack and producing a notebook.
It wasn’t until Piper said, “Do you not have one?” that Annabeth realized she had fallen under her spell, as well.
“What?” She blinked, sitting up straight. Great, she had thought, make a total fool of yourself in front of the pretty new girl within the first five seconds of meeting her. Way to go, Annabeth.
“Do you not have a pencil I can borrow? It’s cool if you don’t, I can ask the teacher for one…” Piper trailed off, gesturing over her shoulder to Mrs. Dodds. who was sourly staring at a stack of homework on her desk.
“Oh!” Annabeth replied, suddenly remembering how to move and reaching for her pencil case, “Yes, of course. Here.” She plucked a pencil out of the case and placed it into Piper’s open palm. “You can keep it.”
The other girl grinned at the writing utensil, revealing dazzling white teeth disguised by rows of metal brackets and wires. “Mechanical? And I can keep it?” She shifted her grin up to Annabeth, who found herself mirroring the expression. “I can tell that we are going to be great friends. I’m Piper.”
“Annabeth.” She replied, taking the hand that Piper had extended and shaking it.
It was that moment that led to what was now a nearly decade-long friendship and Annabeth putting the phone to her ear and saying, “Hello?”
“Good morning precious baby cakes!” Piper answered, surprisingly cheerful for the hour. Being best friends with Piper since middle school had taught Annabeth a lot - how to put in a tampon and how to knot a cherry stem with her tongue, for example - but the most pressing of all was that Piper McLean was not a morning person. The other girl showing up to school halfway through second period with an iced latte in her hand was a regular occurrence in their high school years. So regular that if not for Mr. McLean stepping in with a generous donation to their school’s art department, Piper would have been roaming the halls of Thomas Jefferson High for another year.
“Why are you so cheery? Do I need to call the police?” Annabeth asked her best friend. “Who are you and what have you done to Piper?”
“Ha ha,” Piper said, “Annabeth Chase, my precious angel face, there is only one person on this earth who I would wake up at the crack ass of dawn for, and that is you.”
Annabeth cracked a smile at her friend’s sobriquet. “I’m flattered.” Another yawn escaped her lips, this time coming out in full force. She slapped a hand to her mouth to shield it from the view of the other patrons in the cafe.
“You should be. Anyway, I’m still about 10 minutes out. Traffic is a bitch this morning. I left my place at seven! Seven, Annabeth.” Piper said before coughing so hard Annabeth thought she was going to hack up a lung.
“And I thank you for your sacrifice.” Annabeth laughed. “Don’t worry about being late,” Annabeth waved a hand as if the other girl could see, “I’m getting coffee and the line is pretty long." After a brief pause, she asked, "Are you okay? You were just hacking up a lung there."
“I'm fine, just a little allergies. Is this your first cup of the day?” Piper asked. Annabeth thought she could hear her stifle a cough on the other line.
“Sadly, yes.” Annabeth answered. The line had been slowly but surely moving during the time they had been on the phone, but she was still about 10 people away from the front. “I might drop dead asleep right here.”
“Oh my god, Annabeth, not to be dramatic but I am literally going to spontaneously combust the second I see you.”
“Please don’t.” Annabeth replied. “I would rather not smell like barbecue for the next 3 months.”
“And it would also suck pretty bad for your best friend to be burnt to a crisp after not seeing her since Christmas.” Piper added. Annabeth didn’t have to see her face to know she had one thick, perfect brow arched and brown eyes narrowed.
“Oh yeah, that too.” Annabeth said airily, the corners of her lips turning upward. “In my defense, I feel like your burnt flesh would smell pretty good.” She laughed, clumsily turning it into a fake cough as a woman waiting for her coffee shot a sidelong glance at her.
“It absolutely would, I’m a tasty bitch.” Piper answered without missing a beat.
Annabeth laughed, drawing a few miffed glances in her direction from fellow bleary-eyed travelers. Cheeks now tinged slightly red, she lowered her voice, “You’re a bad influence. I think everyone in this coffee shop hates me now.”
“Annabeth, I’ve been a bad influence on you and it’s only ever been for the better.” Piper replied.
The two of them continued to talk over the phone as Annabeth awaited her turn, slowly but surely making her way closer and closer to the register. There were only a handful of days in the past 7 years where they hadn’t shared at least one conversation with each other, yet they somehow never ran out of things to talk about. The conversations she had shared with Piper over the years ranged from deeply emotional to downright bizarre. Annabeth gnawed on her bottom lip as she listened patiently to Piper rant about her new theory that her parents’ divorce was caused by mosquitoes, unsure of where to place this on their spectrum of conversation topics.
“Next!” The barista manning the register called out, startling Annabeth out of her intense concentration on the mosquito incident.
“I must have had over one hundred mosquito bites, Annabeth. I think we went through five whole tubes of cortisone in a span of 3 days-”
“Hold that thought, Pipes,” Annabeth interrupted, walking up the counter, “I’m about to order.” She dropped her phone down to her side before the other girl could respond.
“Good morning.” The barista gave Annabeth a half-hearted smile, feigning a cheerful demeanor. Her hair stuck out in every direction, an elastic barely gripping on to the end of a long gone ponytail, and her apron had several stains of varying degrees of age splattered on. Annabeth recognized the look of a shift from hell all too well.
“Good morning,” Annabeth echoed, flashing an empathetic smile. “Could I get a medium iced white mocha with oat milk? That’ll be all.”
The barista nodded silently, tapping the iPad screen in front of her with quick precision. “$7.68.”
Annabeth fished her wallet out of her purse, plucked her credit card out, and tapped the card reader. When the screen asked if she wanted to leave a tip, she pressed yes and left 25%. “Thank you.” She told the barista before walking away and joining the crowd around the counter waiting for their drinks
Her suitcase supported her body weight as she leaned on it and put her phone back up to her ear. “Hey,” She said to Piper, who was still on the other line. She yanked the phone away from her ear when she heard a loud honk and a string of expletives from the other girl ending with a promise to shove a certain something so far up their ass they could wear it as a hat.
“Ugh. Sorry,” Piper said, “I just pulled into the pickup lane, and some asshole cut me off in line.”
“Probably not the best idea to be cursing someone out right in front of the airport entrance, don’t you think?” Annabeth smirked. Piper had always had a knack for causing trouble.
“Whatever. It was worth it.” Piper replied. “You almost out?”
“Yeah, just waiting for my coffee. I’ll see you in like five minutes.”
“Okay. I’m gonna let you go then.”
“Don’t go threatening anymore people to shove their dick up their ass while I’m gone.” Annabeth said. To her left, an older woman softly gasped.
“I can’t make any promises.” Piper said. Annabeth chuckled before hanging up.
“Iced white mocha with oat!” A barista called out and placed a drink on the counter. Annabeth walked up to the counter and flashed a brief smile at the barista before turning and walking out of the shop. As she made her way onto the busy floor crammed with tourists, businesspeople, children, and airport staff, her phone began buzzing in her back pocket. She groaned, moving back towards the wall to not be a nuisance to the flow of traffic.. Who would be calling her right now? She couldn’t look at her watch, which was buzzing on her wrist in sync with her phone, because doing so would cause the coffee she had waited almost 30 minutes for to spill all over the floor. Trying very carefully not to spill her drink or let go of her luggage, she grabbed the phone out of her pocket. Before she could see who was calling her, a sharp squeal from behind her pierced her ears. Whipping her head, she saw the same group of girls from earlier practically sprinting forward like lions after their prey. She turned back to her phone and saw the words SPAM LIKELY on top of the number on her screen. She rolled her eyes before going to shove her phone in her back pocket and lifted her cup to her mouth, ready to savor her first precious sip of coffee when-
Excuse me, I’m sorry!” A hurried, panicked voice met her ears before the body the voice belonged to brushed against her, clearly in a hurry to get the hell out of the airport. Annabeth watched in slow motion as her coffee cup got crushed between herself and the mystery person, the perfectly nutty liquid spilling down the front of her t-shirt and onto the floor.
For a moment, she looked down at the coffee which had taken residence on the floor in shock. Her brain caught up with her, and irritation flooded her whole chest as she said, “What the hell?” She shot daggers at the perpetrator, whose jaw was also dropped in shock.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He said, head turning between Annabeth and the gaggle of teenage girls that were still squealing and getting closer with every passing second. Whoever this person was clearly did not want to or plan on being recognized right now, clad in sweatpants, a black hoodie, and a cap and sunglasses. “Um, here.” He fished a crumpled $20 bill from his front pocket and shoved it into Annabeth’s hand. “To get a new one.” His sunglasses had slid down the bridge of his nose, and Annabeth raised her eyes to his. They were a shockingly deep shade of green with sprinkles of gold, like birch leaves in June at the first break of dawn. Whoever this person was had startlingly gorgeous eyes, but right now Annabeth wanted to poke one out for the conundrum he had just caused her.
“Dude, I don’t want your money.” Annabeth scoffed. “Watch where you’re going next time.” She patted the front of her shirt with the singular napkin she had taken from the cafe in a pathetic attempt to clean herself up. “I mean seriously, who the hell just goes around shoving people in an airport? At 8:30 in the morning?”
“That’s him!” A high pitched scream came from the right of them, much closer now. The mystery guy turned his head and shifted his weight from foot to foot, a restlessness in his stance.
“Fuck.” He muttered, running a hand down the back of his neck. He turned back to Annabeth. “Look, I’m sorry. I gotta go. Please keep it.” He took a few steps back, merging back into the heavy crowd. “I’ll make it up to you!” He said before turning and melting into the throngs of people.
Annabeth stared at the crowd, still in disbelief. What the fuck had just happened?
“Do you know him?” Annabeth whipped her head around and saw the queen bee from earlier standing in front of her, unfazed by the puddle of coffee surrounding her. The other girls waited anxiously beside her.
“I- what?” Annabeth asked, confusion taking over her anger.
The girl looked at her expectantly, one eyebrow perfectly arched. Then she gasped, startling Annabeth. Her braces glinted in the harsh light of the airport. “You were talking to him. Or was he talking to you?” She asked, eyes widening. “Oh my god, are you his girlfriend?”
“Angela, he’s getting away!” One of her friends grabbed her sleeve and tugged. Her head whipped between Angela and the crowd, eyes anxious and wide.
This got Angela’s attention. She turned and said, “Hurry!” before shoving her way into the crowd with the others, Annabeth now long forgotten
“What the fuck?” Annabeth whispered. What had just happened?
Plunk. A custodial employee who had come out of seemingly nowhere placed a wet floor sign next to Annabeth. She flashed a sheepish smile at the disgruntled worker, tossing the now empty cup into the trash can on his cart as he pulled out a mop and glared at her.
“Sorry.” She muttered before all but sprinting out of the airport, suitcase banging against the back of her legs. Her hand instinctively went to shield her eyes as she finally stepped outside, met by the bright and blinding morning sun.
“Annabeth!” She turned her head to the right and saw Piper leaning against her car, beaming and waving frantically in her direction. A grin grew on her face as she waved back and made her way over to her best friend. The other girl’s smile slowly dropped as Annabeth got closer, pulling her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, freckles scrunching as she took in her appearance.
“What the hell happened to you?” She asked incredulously. Annabeth sighed as Piper grabbed her suitcase and threw it into the trunk.
“Some asshole ran into me and made me spill my coffee all over the floor,” Annabeth looked down at the seeping dark spot on her shirt, “and myself. Some celebrity, I think. Afterwards this group of teenagers came up and were hounding me asking if I was his girlfriend.”
Piper tsked, shaking her head. As the daughter of not one, but two celebrities, she knew all too well the arrogance people with even an iota of fame could have when it got to their heads. The daughter of a history professor and college dean, Annabeth was always bewildered at the stories Piper told her of her parents and their industry friends. Piper’s father, Tristan McLean, was an A-list actor with several Oscar nominations under his belt, and her mother, Callista Katsaros, was a former supermodel turned fashion designer and founder of luxury fashion house, Aphrodisiac.
Although her parents had done their best to keep their daughter out and away from the most egregious parts of their celebrity, Piper still had plenty of tales of arrogant models, directors, and executives that she had run into over the years. Such interactions, as well as the overall experience of growing up with two famous parents, had caused Piper to refuse to venture into fame herself. Whether she had been successful or not was up to debate - Piper was what the media considered a wild child, and she had appeared in her fair share of tabloids over the years for smoking weed, drinking underage, and partying in clubs all over the world.
Piper shut the trunk of her car, dusting her hands off in celebration of a job well done. “Assholes are gonna asshole. Let’s get back to the house so you can get cleaned up.”
"Are you sure you're okay? You sound a little congested." Annabeth moved forward and pressed the back of her hand to Piper's forehead, the same way her father used to when she was little. The corners of her mouth turned down when she felt a feverish heat. "You're warm."
Piper grabbed her hand and pushed it away. "I'm fine." She sniffled.
"Let me drive."
"No."
"Piper-"
"I told you, it's just a little allergies. Besides, you've been up since god knows when. I am not letting you drive in LA traffic right now."
Annabeth rolled her eyes at her friend's stubbornness but relented nonetheless, climbing into the passenger seat. Piper slid into the driver's seat next to her and navigated her way out of the airport and onto the highway.
Despite the initial bump, the rest of the ride to Piper’s was smooth sailing. Annabeth’s head lulled to the side as she fought herself to stay awake to keep her friend company, but she realized she had lost that battle when she woke up to the car traipsing down the long driveway to the mansion that sat atop the Sunset Strip. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as the property came into view.
Annabeth had been to the McLean mansion plenty of times, but the utter awe of seeing it in person never failed to escape her. It was a stunning 3-story, 20,000 square foot mansion with a near-360 degree view of the entire city and a pool large enough to fit her own apartment that culminated into a waterfall that cascaded into an atrium. In other words, it was gorgeous and something Annabeth could save her whole life for twice over and never be able to afford.
Residential architecture, although interesting, had not been the concentration she decided to take in her architectural studies, opting instead for civic architecture. She had always found public spaces to be more intriguing and rewarding because of the way they fostered community and brought people together. City halls, libraries, arenas - that’s what she had decided to work towards.
It had been going well, too, having wrapped up her junior year at Columbia which had included an internship at The Met’s Building and Construction Department. Although the internship had only been for the spring semester and she wouldn’t be graduating for another year, her proctor had all but offered her a job straight upon graduating.
“Home sweet home.” Piper remarked as she tucked her Mercedes Benz neatly into its place inside the equally impressive garage, which boasted several other luxury cars belonging to the McLeans. Annabeth hopped out of the car, taking a moment to fully stretch her limbs as Piper went back around and grabbed her suitcase from the trunk. She followed Piper into the house, the floor to ceiling windows allowing the warm morning sun to paint the open concept kitchen and living room a honey yellow.
The two silently padded down the hall to Piper’s room, the hallway adorned with several photos of the McLean family at various locations around the world - the Swiss Alps, the Oscars, and Paris Fashion Week, to name a few. If there was one thing that was undeniable about the McLeans, it was that they were all jaw droppingly gorgeous. Piper was the perfect blend of her parents, with the same high cheekbones, arched nose, and splash of freckles as her father and sharing identical plump lips and upturned eyes with her mother, giving them both a foxy look. Even her younger half-sister, Drew, a product of a fling their mother had while Piper’s parents were on one of their many breaks, was gorgeous, being offered modeling jobs at both Paris and New York Fashion Week at only 16.
It was Drew who greeted them now, nearly running into Annabeth as she exited her bedroom in a tank top, running shorts, and tennis shoes, jet black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, a couple of ringlets strategically left out to frame her diamond-shaped face perfectly.
“Hi, Annabeth.” She smiled cheerfully, pulling her into a hug and immediately making her eyes water with the wall of cotton candy scented perfume that hit her nostrils. “How was your flight?” She asked, pulling back.
Annabeth blinked rapidly, trying to remedy the stinging in her eyes from the lingering scent before she answered. Next to her, Piper’s eyes narrowed, beating her to it. “That’s my top.” She remarked, her tone accusatory.
Drew rolled her eyes and turned towards her sister. “Yeah, so?” She asked, placing a hand on her hip.
“So, I told you not to borrow my clothes without asking. You’re not even borrowing this. This is just straight up stealing!” Piper exclaimed, gesturing with her arms as if painting the air with exasperation before falling into a coughing fit.
Drew stepped back, scrunching her face in disgust. "I was literally gonna give it back when I got done with my workout. It’s not stealing if you give it back. Besides, you're clearly coming down with something. It's not like you're going anywhere you could wear this."
Piper’s perfectly arched eyebrows lowered and pulled closer together as she stared at the younger girl. “I am not sick! And it doesn’t matter if you give it back, taking something from someone without asking is the textbook definition of stealing!”
The two continued arguing in the hall as Annabeth silently removed herself from the scenario and completed the trek to Piper’s bedroom, shutting the door to muffle their bickering. She had seen how nasty their sisterly quarrels could get, and she did not want to be in such close proximity if it got to that level. Sighing, she peeled off her coffee stained clothing and traipsed into Piper's closet to steal some clothes, not having the energy to dig through her own luggage. She settled on a random t-shirt and flannel shorts, pulling them on before all but collapsing onto the bed in the middle of the room.
Involuntarily, a deep escaped her as she sunk into the mattress, curling up into a ball and finally letting herself relax after the hectic morning she had had, eyes heavy as they fluttered closed.
~~~
Annabeth didn’t know what time - or day - it was when she woke up, feeling refreshed as she pulled herself into a sitting position and stretched her arms towards the sky, a satisfied moan escaping her lips at the sensation of her muscles lengthening. The room was dark, leaving Annabeth puzzled. Was it nighttime? Had she slept all day? It took a minute for her eyes to adjust, and once they did, she saw the blackout curtains pulled shut across every window in the room. Not wanting to get out of bed just yet, she moved her arm wildly across the bed in search of her phone, nearly jumping out of her skin when she made contact with Piper’s face. She nearly jumped back when she felt how warm it was.
“Mmmmmmmph.” Piper groaned, feebly swatting her hand away. Annabeth muttered a quick sorry under her breath as she searched the other side of the bed, fingers wrapping around her phone when she reached under one of the various stuffed animals piled on top of the bed.
The phone lit up to life and Annabeth squinted, the bright light harsh on her eyes. 2:49. Not quite when she had wanted to wake up, but it’s not like she had anything planned for her first day in Los Angeles. She turned to Piper, whose face is buried in her pillow, hair sticking up like a flag post. She nudged her shoulder.
“I’m getting up.” She whispered before adding, "You're totally sick, by the way."
Piper simply lifted her hand and flashed her middle finger at Annabeth before dropping it back down on the mattress as her means of acknowledgement. Annabeth shook her head at her friend but found the corners of her mouth pulling upward at her theatrics. Whatever Piper had contracted, Annabeth wasn't worried about catching herself. She could not remember the last time she had gotten sick - something she wore as a badge of honor and considered a bit of a superpower. Annabeth pulled on a pair of Piper’s slippers before padding down the hallway and into the living area, the large flat screen growing louder as she reached the couch Drew was sprawled on, a bowl of popcorn resting on the cushion next to her.
The younger girl turned her head when Annabeth came to a stop next to the couch. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She said, grabbing the bowl and lifting it up. “Want some?”
Annabeth muttered a quick thanks as she grabbed a handful of popcorn, savoring the buttery, salty treat. She plopped down on the other end of the L-shaped couch, and Drew moved the bowl so it sat in the corner between them. A comfortable silence blanketed over them. Annabeth had known Drew as long as she knew Piper, and they had developed somewhat of a sisterly dynamic over the years - albeit with less fighting than the two blood sisters. Despite having two younger half-brothers, Annabeth had always grown up feeling like an only child due to their 8 year age gap and her hardly seeing them due to moving far, far away as soon as she could. For her, far away meant across the country. She had lived in New York now for the better part of 3 years for school, and it felt more like home than anywhere else she had ever lived. Her “humble beginnings”, as Piper put it, were in her native West Virginia, where it was just her and her father, an adjunct professor at WVU. When she was 5, an offer to be a professor of American history at UC Berkeley had her father packing up his bags and settling in San Francisco, Annabeth in tow. It was in the Golden Gate City that Frederick Chase had met Helene, Annabeth’s stepmom, and where she had popped out her two twin brothers, Bobby and Matthew, a couple years later.
Annabeth had a good relationship with her brothers despite the limited contact they had, and she always wished she could spend more time with them. It tugged at her heart strings every time they asked her why she didn’t come home more often, but how was she supposed to explain all of that to a couple of elementary schoolers?
“Hey guys, miss you too but your mom and our dad kind of hate my guts!”
Okay, hate was a strong word, Annabeth thought. But her relationship with her parents definitely wasn’t the best. Annabeth’s biological mother had left when Annabeth was a toddler, hardly old enough to remember the lines and curves of her face, though if she closed her eyes and focused with all her might, a faint, fuzzy outline of the woman who brought her into this world appeared. According to the meager information she had been able to pry out of her father over the years, Annabeth’s mother left because she had determined she did not want to be a mother after all. That did wonders for Annabeth’s self-esteem when she figured that out.
Her mother gone, Annabeth was left stuck with her Frederick Chase. She had never been able to decide which was the crueler act by that woman (okay, maybe she was being dramatic).
Frederick Chase wasn’t a horrible father. He provided food, clothing, and shelter. He paid for dance lessons and registration fees for soccer and volleyball. He helped out with Annabeth’s tuition, although begrudgingly (“You could have gone to UCB for free!”). He even sent a card every year for her birthday, his signature scribbled underneath the short message her stepmother had written (Annabeth suspected the card was mostly Helene’s doing, given her father had forgotten the date of her birth on multiple occasions).
He had the basics (mostly) down. As for emotional support, Annabeth felt like she was talking to a brick wall more often than not. She wasn’t stupid. She knew her father resented her for her mother leaving all those years ago. She could feel it when he married Helene and had two perfect sons, doting on them and pouring all of his energy into them. She could feel it when she started acting out and getting into fights at school and failing classes on purpose and he got a psychiatrist to start pumping her full of Adderall instead of sitting down and talking to her. She could feel it everywhere.
Helene didn’t exactly try to fill that gap. She was polite and mostly pleasant, which was how she had been pretty much since the moment her and Annabeth met. If Annabeth was honest with herself, it stung. A lot. She so often looked at her friends and their own loving families, a hole drilled so deep in her heart she wasn’t sure she could ever fill it up appearing when she saw how they interacted and loved each other. Despite it all, Annabeth had herself. She had done a pretty good job of looking after herself all these years, and she figured she had turned out mostly okay.
“Welcome back to Olympus Tonight!” The TV ripped her from her thoughts, her gaze coming to focus on the screen across the room. A green-haired woman with an unnervingly perfect set of veneers smiled back at her. “I’m your host, Juniper Brooks. Here’s all the scoop you need to know for this weekend.”
Annabeth’s brow furrowed as she spoke. She thought she knew Juniper Brooks from somewhere, though she couldn’t quite place it. Maybe she had met her at one of the various parties Piper had dragged her to over the years? They looked to be about the same age. She was still trying to place it when she heard Piper shuffling up behind Drew, sleep still thick on her eyes like a heavy winter snow. She rubbed her eyes and yawned before stretching her arms towards the ceiling. When her eyes fell on the TV, she scowled.
“You’re seriously watching this crap?” She asked Drew, who rolled her eyes.
“Like you haven’t watched every single season of Love Island UK.” The younger girl responded, sitting up and folding her arms. “You’re just mad because you hooked up with her one time and she didn’t call you back.”
That’s where Annabeth knew Juniper from. The story came flooding back into her mind as Piper scoffed in disbelief, hands resting on her hips.
“You are unbelievable. She is unbelievable, you know that?” Piper sniffled and turned to Annabeth, who merely offered a weak smile of support. She knew better than to get involved with their sisterly quarrels by now.
“Shhh!” Drew exclaimed, now laser-focused on the screen. “Everyone shut up.”
Piper scowled but obliged, making her way around the sofa and falling onto the cushion next to Annabeth. Annabeth reached over and grabbed another handful of popcorn, chewing on it absentmindedly as the program continued.
“Folks, have we got some exciting news for you! Everyone’s favorite pop star and America’s heartthrob has landed back in Los Angeles after closing off his sold out world tour in London. If you weren’t able to get tickets, don’t you worry - Olympus Tonight can confirm that Percy Jackson is bringing his sensational show to the big screen next month so you can relive it all. Our Michael Yew recently sat down with the singer to discuss the concert film.”
Percy Jackson. The name sounded incredibly familiar, and Annabeth knew she knew it from somewhere, the knowledge on the tip of her tongue. Drew squealed beside her as Juniper announced the concert film, and Annabeth flinched at the sudden noise.
“Mom has to get us in to that premiere!” She said to Piper, eyes not leaving the screen. Piper scoffed, bringing her eyes to Annabeth’s and shaking her head. Bemused, Annabeth turned her attention back to the TV, where Michael Yew was just getting done introducing himself and the segment.
"I’m sitting down here in London with Percy Jackson, just before he goes on stage for the final show of his Waves World Tour. Percy, it’s an absolute pleasure.” Michael smiled, his body language clearly showing that of a seasoned industry veteran who interviews A-listers on a regular basis.
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Percy responded, the camera flipping to him. Drew squealed beside her again, but Annabeth didn’t flinch this time. The popcorn in her mouth suddenly felt like sawdust, and her veins felt like ice was running through them. Her mind flashed back to the teenage girls at the airport. PJDaily. Those green eyes she had glared into a mere few hours before stared back at her in HD, and it all clicked.
Percy Jackson was the asshole from the airport.