The sound that crackled through the speakers was low-quality at best and downright crappy at its worst. Percy hardly seemed to mind though, humming along underneath his breath as his fingers flickered through a bin of donated CD cases with cracked and stained covers. In the dim light of the overhead light, he squinted at a particularly scarred album before tossing it into the overflowing wastebin at his feet. It was nearly noon and outside people strode past the little music shop to their lunch breaks, bundled into heavy black coats and infinity scarves, eyes too focused on the ground in front of them to notice the little establishment Percy had tucked himself into.

He glanced up as a gangly boy with droopy, close-set eyes and shaggy hair shuffled up to his counter. He moved like the walking dead, and the look in his eyes often had the same effect. "Hey, Clovis, you ready?"

Clovis nodded, his sandy colored hair flopping into his eyes. He clattered an old record on Percy's counter along with a twenty before shoving his hands into his oversized sweater's pockets.

"Nice choice," he commented, handing him his change. Clovis bobbed his head in another nod before shuffling out the door. Percy drummed his fingers on the sticker covered table and turned up the music. He glanced off into the aisles and spotted Clovis' signature gray beanie on the floor near the lesser visited classical section. "Hey, Clovis, you forgot – ." But he had already gone. Percy sighed into the empty shop and went back to organizing the bin, nimble fingers organizing them into little piles, messing them up, and reorganizing them by name then genre then by levels of crappiness.

Accountants were probably having more fun at work right now.

Percy ruffled his fingers through his hair in frustration, shoving the cracked plastic bin onto the floor. His fingers skidded through the rough stubble of his undercut. He was wondering if the boss would mind him skipping out on lunch break early when the bell on the door jingled.

"It's by the classical." Percy said, without bothering to look up.

"Come again?" Percy started and glanced up. It wasn't Clovis who had returned for his hat but a blonde woman whose expression was a mixture of confused and offended. She was a little too nicely dressed to be from this part of the city. Her curly blonde hair was pinned up in some kind of fancy up-do he imagined was very popular in the country clubs of South Carolina this time of the year, and… wow. Now that wasn't what he normally expected to find in his crappy little music shack.

"Oh – hey! Sorry, I thought you were…" he stumbled through his words, feeling his cheeks warming up. She raised her eyebrows, the corners of her lips curving slightly as if she were surpressing laughter. "Nevermind." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Can I help you with something?" He stepped out from behind the cashier's counter, regretting it slightly when her eyes flickered over his body. He couldn't tell if he was being checked out or judged. The part of him that couldn't help but notice how cute she was hoped it was the former. By 'part' he probably meant all of him. He glanced down to see what he had thrown on that day. The old pair of ripped black jeans and a loose white button up he'd picked up off his bedroom floor made him cringe. Her eyes lingered for a bare extra second on the ink peeking out from his rolled up sleeves before glancing back around the shop. Her appraising gaze reminded him slightly of rich, snobby Nancy Beaumont, the debate team captain at his old high school, whose face was in constant levels of disgust whenever Percy and his friends were around. This girl's face was sweeter and lacked the distaste of old Nancy, though she still had that refined look about her.

"I'm looking for a gift for a friend," she said. She leaned against Percy's desk, tracing a Flaming Lips sticker with a manicured finger, clutching her olive green gloves in her other hand. Percy gulped, ruffling his hair with his free hand. Most of the light came from the wall-length windows of the building's façade, and what light did come through illuminated the stacks and narrow aisles of vintage records and guitar strings in a hazy glow.

"Great," Percy said, clearing his throat and clapping his hands together. "Anything in particular?"

The girl's eyes snapped back to Percy's. She smiled, and turned towards him, the light catching the stray curls falling around her face. Percy's mouth went oddly dry. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a worn list and handing it to him. "These are the bands she likes, I'm not quite sure what to get her…" she glanced back up at Percy, biting her lip worriedly. "I don't suppose you could help me out?"

God, could she get any cuter?

There was a list of six bands Percy himself was rather familiar with written in sharp black ink in neat, flowing penmanship. It didn't surprise him that blondie was at a loss. She seemed a bit more Ingrid Michaelson than Fall Out Boy. "I know just the thing." He glanced up and grinned at the girl, who blinked back, looking somewhat surprised. "Follow me," he beckoned, leading her through a winding path through the shelves, fingers trailing along fading spines before pulling out the one he was looking for. " I'm Percy, by the way. You?" he turned to look at the girl and felt his heart jump in his chest when he realized she was much closer than he thought. Her face was less than a foot away. In the drafty spaces of the back room, he could feel her warmth seeping into the dusty air. She was taller than he thought, the top of her hair knot level with his nose. She smelled sweet.

She plucked the record out from his hands, studying it. "Annabeth," she answered at last, turning to walk back towards the front, glancing behind her as if to make sure he was following.

He stared after her for a second before quickly following at her heels. She was waiting at the counter, scrawling something on the worn list she had given to Percy.

Getting the impression that she was in a hurry, Percy quickly wrapped up the gift and handed it to her. "Annabeth!" he called after her. She paused, already half-out of the shop, and glanced up from her phone. "You forgot something," he waved the white list at her.

"You have a good day, Percy." A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips, and in the next second she was gone.

Annabeth. He fiddled with the worn white list still in his hand. There was a new addition at the bottom. Huh.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx
Annabeth Chase.
Call me.

-x-

A/N: Hello all my new and beloved readers! Yes, I'm back with my favorite fictional couple in another AU. I couldn't help it, Punk!Percy is my favorite thing ever. The icon is drawn by the fab viria and edited by castellanpride. As always, thanks to my beta, best friend, and fellow percabeth lover, Maddie, or bookish-type-7. She might actually be writing a couple scenes of this fic from Annabeth's point of view if we're lucky.

I'm super excited for this fic and will hopefully be updating really soon, so don't forget to follow both/either the story or my tumblr, frankzhangly to get notices on updates!(:

Love,

Anna x.

Give it a review to make my day! ^-^