March 22nd

The woman is undeniably her mother. Not only does she share the calculating, harsh eyes that Annabeth flinches at every time she looks in the mirror, the woman also has her slim features, curved figure and small hands. Or Annabeth supposes that she has the features of this woman. On the other hand, this woman had a posture that radiated confidence that Annabeth didn't recognise. Her chin was lifted as though she was trying to look just over her daughters head as though she was quite literally above her. Her face was framed with sleek, dark hair that was highlighted with caramel streaks. If Annabeth had to guess, she'd say the color was entirely natural, even though she had always presumed that her honey blonde hair had been a trait of her mothers.

What was she doing here?

Sherman glanced at the pair of them, his eyebrows scrunched in concern as opposed to his usual scowl. They were tucked away in an old dressing room, though it wasn't currently occupied by anyone. When Annabeth shook her head at Sherman as if to say 'no need to cause a scene', his nostrils flared. Clearly he was looking for an opening to pick a fight. That had been one of the reasons Annabeth had chosen to bring Athena inside, not only was their conversation hidden from prying fans with phones to record the crude language she planned to hurl at her mother, being inside meant that if Sherman did cause a scene, he was much less likely to get fired for it with fewer witnesses.

(The guy meant well but there had been several occasions where he'd been a little too aggressive with the psychotic super fans that demanded to go backstage or claimed to be family of the cast. Though he had a kind heart and a good eye for potential threats, a mere pat on the back from one of his muscular, tree-trunk sized arms had the potential to break a few ribs.)

Athena brushed her hand down her black pencil skirt and glanced over the walls of the room critically, lips pursed. "Annabeth," She greeted, finally making eye contact with her daughter.

Unlike, Athena, Annabeth was struggling to keep her cool. Awestruck wasn't perhaps the best word to describe her expression, possibly gormless or incredulous.

"What are you doing here?" Annabeth hears the words aloud before she processes that they're her own.

"I came to support my daughter."

Annabeth studied her mother, searching for any tell-tale signs that she was bluffing. There was no way she could be serious, surely not. Support her daughter? Who does she think she is? Some mother she claimed to be, waiting twenty two years to finally show up, to finally introduce herself to the child she abandoned.

"You're kidding, right?"

At her daughters words, Athena's lips straightened into a thin line. She seemed to compose herself before she spoke again as if she was coming up with the best excuse for her absence like parenting was some extra credit class that wasn't worth the fuss.

"I thought it was high time I introduced myself."

Unsure of whether to laugh or cry, Annabeth settles on calming her breathing. She won't get angry. She won't start yelling, no matter how tempting it would be to spit out years of frustrations on the woman who didn't appear to give a damn.

"Annabeth, sweetheart," She can feel her blood boiling at the endearing nickname but she stays silent. "I owe you an apology. For... a number of things."

For what feels like an hour, Annabeth remains stoically silent as Athena talks through her big life decisions and how she came to meet Frederick. Apparently her decision to leave him with a newborn was justified by a part-time job offer in Virginia and the opportunity to refine her design skills so she had a leg up in starting her own architecture firm. It's a wonderful feeling to have been ignored for a potential business move, Annabeth had to chew the inside of her cheek to stop her jaw from hanging open in disbelief.

"I realise it's been too long for me to completely bridge the gap in our relationship, but I must say I am impressed by your achievements. I follow your You Tune page." She pursed her lips as though the words had a bitter taste. "That's how I found out about your part in this play. I had bought tickets for late April to give you some more time to reach out to me on your own terms, but I figured I had best take this opportunity to watch you on stage. Truly phenomenal performance, Annabeth, congratulations."

The words that she had been preparing to throw at her mother fizzle into nothingness in her throat. Every biting, snide comment she had armed herself with after twenty two bitter years without her mother halts when she meets Athena's eyes. The stony grey that Annabeth was overly familiar with seem to have a delicate layer between them, like ice. Though it appears solid and frosty, there's a sheen to them that can only be emotionally driven, a coat of shame and unshed tears. If Annabeth hadn't been paying such close attention, she might've missed the way she averts her gaze or the way her lip trembles for the slightest of seconds.

There's no magical moment where Annabeth rushes into her mom's arms and they share an extended embrace, no tearful smiles or heartfelt rush towards each other. Instead, they seem to come to an understanding. Athena gives her a small nod and in return, Annabeth offers a tentative smile. It feels like a peace offering.

Annabeth leaves the theatre that night at about a quarter to midnight, a warm sensation of satisfaction nestled inside her. The change that was coming around the corner was positive, she knew that much. New things were approaching and when Annabeth had first pictured them storming towards her on a freight train, she thinks that maybe it's not so intimidating anymore. The changes were in her control, not so much charging after her but more that she was walking towards it at her own, relaxed pace. She wouldn't immediately forget about the cracks in her childhood, the crumbled trust that had led her to question her own self worth, she wasn't sure she ever would, but she could move past it. For the first time in a long while, Annabeth had a support network that she could rely on.

And the pinnacle of that network was getting miles and miles closer by the minute.