The Architect [Pipabeth AU]

t h r e e: the city that never sleeps

A N N A B E T H

My alarm sounded at five a.m., as it did every Tuesday morning.

Schedules are important. It's repetition that strengthens a person. Practice makes perfect.

I got in the shower and got dressed. I blended a breakfast smoothie, grabbed my bags that I'd previously packed the night before, and set off to check on a few things at work before I left for California.

California was tainted in my mind. It was a nightmarish place for me. I had bad memories of losing friends at Mount Tam. My verbally and physically abusive step mother and father lived there. I was much more comfortable in New York, close to the year round academy that I practically grew up at, Camp Half-Blood. I had friends here- my best friends since I was twelve, Percy and Grover. Percy's boyfriend Jason. Leo the repair boy that often helped me in my engineering designs, as much as I don't like to admit it. Chiron, my mentor, teacher and friend. Even Clarisse, who'd been one of my biggest rivals since grade school had a special place in my heart.

I walk the streets of the city that never sleeps. I relate to it. It's everlasting hum of life reverberates through the air. It has been built stone by stone, and through hard work has a strong foundation. It functions like a well-oiled machine. Police sirens wailed in the distance. An agitated local shoves a tourist out of the way on the sidewalk, almost knocking her off her balance. Traffic horns split the air of the peaceful morning. Maybe not that much of a well-oiled machine.

Unless I'm overworking myself, I don't feel like I'm doing enough. This is characteristic of people like me, so I've been told. When you base what you're worth on what you accomplish, you lose all sense of yourself as soon as you go through a trough. I hadn't hit one yet, but my investors and managers and contractors had told me the day was coming.

I dropped by my office building, swinging in the revolving doorway. I walked across the lobby, heels clicking on the marble tiles, saying hello to the front desk lady as I always did. She waved absentmindedly as she continued speaking to a customer on the phone. I buzzed in and used my keycard for the elevator. The smell of coffee so strong it could suffocate somebody hit my senses as soon as the elevator door dinged open.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Chase?" I felt myself smile, though I wasn't sure if it was genuine or not.

"Luke," I greeted him. One of the data managers, a people person. Athletic in high school, which was evident with the resilient step in his shined black loafers. Cropped blonde hair, mischievous blue eyes. Funny, smart. Good at his job, and steady as the beating drum. The way he played with his sisters' baby at the restaurant last week was adorable. A couple years older than me, and everything I was supposed to want.

"Good morning to you, Annabeth," he said. "Wanna grab coffee before you go halfway across the country?"

I gave him a sly smile and glanced at my watch. Coffee in our floors lounge was always fantastic, with the beautiful view of the city through the tinted floor to ceiling windows.  "That could be arranged, Mr. Castellan."

***

There was a certain emptiness I always felt across the table from him. As he spread his hands and told me about the crazy lady on the subway that morning, my mind wondered whether or not I'd ever truly be happy or not. Not the limited amount of happy that I felt by his side, like the feelings I could feel for him had a ceiling, had a peak. But the unlimited, endless happiness that I was told was what real love was.

"California, huh?" He finally said. "Piper McLean. What a legend."

"I hope so," I said, boredom coating my tone. "All of these celebrities are the same."

"You leave soon," he noted, tapping his watch with a pen.

"I have to be at the airport in an hour," I said, then looked at the piles of folders and portfolios I'd pushed to the side of the coffee table. "I just have to file these."

"I'll file them for you," he said.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Totally, no problem," he said breezily, sliding the stack of papers to his end of the table.

"Oh my god, thank you so much," I sighed.

"One requirement," he said.

"And what would that be?" I asked.

"When you get back," Luke said, standing. "I'm taking you out again."

"Oh really?" I stood, taking his empty coffee cup out of his hand and throwing away both of ours. "Hmm..."

"What would it take for the fair lady to say yes?" He asked, gently taking my hand.

"Sunday?" I asked.

"Sunday," he agreed, flashing me his gorgeous smile. His charm was noticeable, but I often wondered if it worked on me or not. Sometimes it was easy to confuse what I was actually feeling and what I wanted to feel. "I'll see you then."

"Have a good day, Luke," I said.

"Be safe at the airport. Enjoy your flight." He pecked my cheek, and left me in the empty lounge, the heavy brown door closing softly behind him. The sun rose over New York City through the windows.

California, here I come.