Murphy's Law

LadyNoir/Ladrien/MariChat/Adrienette (also DJWifi)

Marinette is feeling pretty good on Saturday night. The beat of the bass guitar is vibrating under her feet, the air is musky and laced with cigarette smoke, there's street chatter coming in from the open door of the bar. She's soaking it all in, her eyes dancing around the near empty quarters of Murphy's Law - she's a regular now, she's got her own slot, it's everything she never knew she wanted.

"Give it up," says Nino, the bar's resident DJ, drawing the attention of the patrons.

He's been doing this gig for years, he tells her (with a grin) when Marinette first shows up to Murphy's Law, months earlier, hoping for nothing in particular. Marinette knows him, of course, DJ Bubbler has a prime-time slot on 105.1, the most popular radio station in the city. His remixes, mash-ups and original works are wildly popular. According to Nino, though, he DJs at Murphy's Law because it's where he got his start, and he's loyal to the owner, an enigmatic shadow of a man. Marinette likes DJ Bubbler a lot, too, even though their styles of music aren't quite the same. Marinette – no not Marinette, Ladybug – works mostly with vocals, low and sultry, everything else is background.

Marinette snaps out of her daze when Nino spreads his hand out to her, "for the marvelous," he smiles, "the mysterious, the miraculous: Ladybug!" He scratches his record once and then steps away from the DJ booth in the back of the bar as Marinette walks up to the mic on the main stage – Murphy's Law is active with the sounds of scrapping bar stools, clinking beer bottles, most people in the room turn to her. As the lights dim, Marinette wraps her hands around the mic, lips nearly pressed against it. The first few notes are plucked on the bass behind her, then the piano player starts up, then the violin.

Behind the mask, the make-up, Marinette feels free from herself. Her lips are red, her dress is red, her blood is red coursing through her with waves of adrenaline. Red, thinks Marinette; the color of confidence. When she is singing as Ladybug, Marinette barely exists, and for one night she feels sure of herself and it is enough.

Ladybug takes a breath, catches a glimpse of a man on a stool in the far corner, glittering green eyes. She gives him a coy smile.

And then, she sings.

Cross-posted at ao3 and Tumblr. I'm looking forward to this story! It won't be too long, but hopefully y'all will enjoy it. Future chapters will be longer, this is essentially just a intro chapter.

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