A/N: I've just had Felix on the brain so I had to write something right? This is not a brother fic or whatever, it's just set in what the 2D world had originally been planned to be for MLB.

Félix tapped his pen on his desk, staring out the window. He'd had too good of a day so far. He'd woken up, hadn't burned his toast, hadn't had his homework get blown away on the wind, and even somehow didn't miss his bus due to one of the many other common misfortunes that ravaged his day to day life.

So then, when was it going to go wrong?

In a way, this was worse than being ravaged by bad luck. This irritable waiting… just waiting for something to go wrong. He spun his pen around in his fingers, glancing at his black ring, the source of this curse.

Why did he ever put it on?

The power of destruction, Plagg had said. If Plagg had mentioned that the destruction would be inflicted upon Félix himself, he'd have thrown away the ring. But no, now he was stuck with it, and stuck with bad luck.

The teacher began to hand out their marked assignments and Félix watched her, waiting for what he believed to be the inevitable: his project had been lost, she'd spilt coffee on it, or maybe even it had been accidentally thrown away. He'd heard them all.

"Good job, Félix," Came the teacher's voice as she handed him back his assignment. He stared at it. He'd gotten an A.

And damn it if he didn't wish he could be happy about that. Yes, he'd worked hard on it, but this was getting out of hand. Why hadn't anything gone wrong yet?

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and the idea that something would happen soon kept clawing at Félix's mind. Was the curse broken? No, he still had the ring on.

As the bell indicating school to be over rang, he felt eyes on his back. He turned around, only to see Bridgette looking at him longingly. He returned her gaze for a moment, before turning forwards with a glare. When would she just get a hint? He wasn't interested. He never would be.

He shrugged on his backpack, and left the school. He had more important things to worry about than that petty girl. As soon as he'd exited the school he was hit with the blinding light of the sun. As he squinted and looked away, he half expected to ram into someone, or to be hit with a stray Frisbee or some nonsense.

But still nothing. The day was perfect. Glancing back and forth, he kept walking. He smoothed back his hair, and decided to walk home rather than take the bus. With any luck, he'd just be slashed with water when a car rolls by or—did he really think that? With any luck he'd have bad luck. Just what had his world come to if thinking that had made sense?

It didn't used to be this way. In fact, things were near-perfect. He had all he wanted, but given the chance to have more, he foolishly took it. He stared at the ring on his finger once more. A deep feeling of hatred filled him. He just wanted to be rid of it. To take it off and never have to look at it again.

He'd reached the streetlights, waiting for them to change colour so he could walk across. He looked at the road, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

There was a kid, bending down to pick up their ball. A driver wouldn't be able to see them, especially if they were going at the speed that the majority of cars were going.

Félix's body reacted before his brain could. He jumped forward, the reflexes he'd come across as Chat Noir took over. He grabbed the kid, and pushed them off of the road and onto the sidewalk.

He turned just as he saw a car trying to brake.

Just my luck.