Princesses, Punks, and One Problem.

What a Waste of Life

Percy sighed and rose to his feet, board in hand. He stepped down one of the thick and wide steps, trying to block out the noise of girly giggled and chuckles. All so dam happy! He stepped down another stair. It was too bright, it made him squint. He really should move somewhere with less sun, and maybe not such an entitled community.
He shook his head and dropped the board down, a clack ensuing. He stepped on, and pushed off. He had to go to the pharmacy, so why not now? It was an excuse not to go home, after all. As his board rattled along the sidewalk, the cracks jumping the skateboard, his eyes were focused on the gaggles of people. They didn't have a care in the world! His fists clenched; why were their lives so damn perfect?
As soon as he thought that word his thoughts returned to Annabeth. Her life was perfect. Though her eyes seemed different. Like she just hid the imperfection for others, like it was a disease or a bad thing. Is that why she had looked at him almost pitifully before? Was she sorry he didn't try to hide his disregard for this world?
He shook his head, why did he even care?! He snapped his teeth down hard upon his lip to focus himself elsewhere with force. The white walls of the pharmacy weren't quite visible through the towering apartments that liner the street, but he knew he was close. Just past Alexia's Ample Apartments, and to the left. It was tucked away for good reason, as it wasn't a real pharmacy. It was one for... A different kind of medicine. As he passed the run down cracking bricks of Alexia's, the whitewashed building came into view. The sign that once read pharmaceuticals now read pamacutials in dull red. He stepped off the board and leaned it against the outside wall, and walked in through the sliding doors. The place smelled of bleach, like a hastily cleaned up crime scene.

He may not have been proud of it, but this place was familiar. His worn converse made no sound against the dirt caked tiles while he made his way to the counter, smacking a pack of cigarettes down in front of a burly man named Arec, pronounced just like Eric.
He gave Percy a sad grin of broken teeth sliding the barcode under the scanner. "Eight seventy-two." He declared. "And a side of lung cancer is charge free." He constantly mocked Percy about everything he bought here.
"Thanks, I love free things." He replied, words dripping with sarcasm. He didn't even believe in charity, much less real love. Paul ruined those ideas for him. Everything had a catch, no matter how impactful.
Jamming a hand down his pocket he produced a crumpled up ten, grabbing the smokes and turning his back to Aric. "Keep the change," he spat, exiting the lowly place. It served the purpose.
He didn't even care how outrageous the prices were. Ten dollars for thirty cigarettes. Whatever, nothing better to spend money on.
As he left the building, he had to do a double take. It looked like Annabeth was slinking along the shadows of the building across the street (complex 4 of Alexia's).
And as if she sensed him watching, her stormy eyes snapped to him, recognition dawning on her flushed features.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Annabeth had been running, because when she'd left the room, she was only at the staircase when she heard Luke's voice calling her name. More scared than she'd ever been, she'd thrown herself down the stairs, desperate to get away from this dangerous side of Luke she'd only just met. Racing down so many flights of stairs had exhausted her, making her ears pound with adrenaline, and her body ache from exertion by the time she'd reached campus. She'd only gone the way she had because it was the place Luke would least likely look for her, what with her ocd habits and whatnot.
But last on her list was running into Percy Jackson again. His violent eyes seemed to assess her, all the while his posture was stiff, like he'd been caught after a robbery. Not a very trustworthy stance.
Still as tense as a taut bowstring, he wrangled something into his pocket and snatched his board off the wall it had been propped against.

Should she say something? She'd better, or this would be the world's most awkward encounter. "Hey," she called out.
It would be flat out rude to ignore her, so she expected some reaction. His hand was drumming the skateboard as she could tell he pondered what to say. "Do you need something?" He replied. His tone was impatient, like he could think of a million other things he'd rather be doing.
She rolled her eyes. "Would it kill you to even try to be nice?" She fired back, one hundred percent not in the mood to deal with Percy being a brat.
"Would it kill you to answer my question?" He snapped.
"You make it sound like I can't just talk to you. Did I do something to make you hate me?" She asked in exasperation. He treated her like gum he found on the toe of his shoe, and she'd done nothing to him!
He ran a hand through what was left of his hair after the mohawk in aggravation. "No, Annabeth." In a second his entire demeanor has changed from annoyed to tired. Not sleepy tired, but tired of fighting.
"Then why do you hate me so much?" She sounded whiny even to herself. She didn't know why she even cared, but she did... A lot.

He looked down at his worn shoes. "Because..." She could see he was fighting with himself about what to tell her. "Because you have everything..." He admitted. There was no spite, sarcasm, or even a hint of anger now. Just defeat.
Annabeth stared at the silver bracelet that decorated her arm. "You're... Jealous of me?"

He shook his head. "I'm jealous of what you have. And you just throw it away. Everything." He shook his head again. "Forget it, I don't expect you to understand."
With that, he set down his board, stepped on, and pushed off.
"Percy! Wait!" She yelled after him, her flats slapping down on the pavement after him.