Adrien loved being Chat Noir. He loved the freedom, the risk, the exhilaration of vigilantism - and saving the city by moonlight with his Lady was something he could never swap for anything else in the world.

Except, his particular supersona had influenced his civilian life, turning it in a bit more of a negative circumstance in some aspects.

Superhumanly bad luck was one of them.

The people of Paris were dense by default. One would have to be to be capable of missing such blatantly obvious details, that if not explicitly presented to their face with a dozen or so in-depth explanations, would deny they had even witnessed something out of the ordinary or mildly concerning.

Adrien, however, was on another level altogether.

He would never know of the strings of fate were true, or if in some mystical sense, destiny had willed him a soulmate, but even if he had been meant to be with someone, it was certain that his sheer obliviousness (intensified approximately tenfold simply from his affiliation with the Black Cat miraculous, aka the Ring of Destruction) would prevent him from achieving anything near a conclusive happily ever after.

At one point, the Powers That Be must have just given up on subtlety completely, because one day Adrien lay in bed lamenting his star-crossed love for Ladybug, the next fateful morning he had suddenly developed an interest in Marinette that was, despite his countless insistences otherwise, most certainly far outside the boundaries of "just a friend". Perhaps the blond was speaking in code.

In any case, the Power of Bad Luck™ struck against his favor once again, and no sooner had he exasperated the class (yet again) as well as the blue-haired girl herself with that god-forsaken expression, that aforementioned girl arrived at school the next week with her eyes clearly set on someone new.

Adrien really liked Luka.

He wasn't a bad guy, really. The guitarist seemed nice and friendly, and although he was a bit teasing, he made sure it was all in good intent. Adrien would have even liked to become good friends with him, if it weren't for his extreme openness and close proximity to Adrien 's very good friend.

So, when the punk rocker showed up to class and promptly stole the attention of everyone in the room (earning the admiration of even the intimidating Mme Mendeleiev, who had come here from her own class to see what all the commotion was and give the students a good talking to, only to meet a rather charming musician), Adrien made like a frustrated toddler and stalked off to the back of the room, plopping down next to the one person who seemed unfazed by the new face.

Marinette was very enthusiastically gushing at the front of the room, Alya looked slightly baffled but seemed happy for her friend, Nino appeared as if he was torn between glaring or sending pitying looks in Adrien's direction. Adrien huffed.

"I mean seriously, his music is nice and all, but why is Marinette looking at him like that when she could be looking at me, instead?" he said aloud.

The redhead beside him, currently absorbed in his sketchbook, did not respond. Adrien did not let that stop him.

"I just don't get what's so great about him," he muttered. "He shows up one day and suddenly he's the center of attention and everyone forgets about everything else. And why is Marinette suddenly so giggly and overly cheerful around him?"

"At least you had a chance with her to begin with," a small voice murmured. Adrien turned.

Nathaniel still hadn't looked up, and if Adrien wasn't 100% sure the voice he heard was new to him, he'd have denied the artist had even spoken.

"What do you mean?" Adrien asked.

Nathaniel shrugged.

"I mean, it's not like it was that hard for you to get her attention, so I don't know why you're so jealous all of a sudden," he said calmly, adding another detail to a page Adrien couldn't see.

"I'm not following you," the blond replied, a bit warily.

Nathaniel sighed.

"Don't be dense, Adrien," he said, with a bit of an edge to his tone this time, almost like an intellectual trying to explain something to a simpleton who couldn't grasp basic facts. "If you weren't so self-absorbed all the time, or, I don't know, maybe you are just really oblivious, but Marinette has been hardcore crushing on you for the past year, and now you notice her?"

"She's been crushing on me? How do you know this?" Adrien asked, irritation surfacing at the word 'dense'. He wasn't ignorant, was he?

"I pay attention?" the redhead suggested sarcastically. "It's not really fair that you had a chance, missed it, and now you're entitled to mourn over your misfortune while some of us didn't even have the opportunity to begin with."

"Whoa, touchy much?" Adrien commented on the redhead's cool tone.

"Mm?" The artist turned his sketchbook to examine the drawing from an angle. Adrien didn't bother asking him what he was drawing.

"Anyways, like you're one to talk about not having a chance. You took her out on a freaking date!" the model objected.

"That doesn't count because 1, I forced her to go, and 2, she never actually had any feelings for me," Nathaniel pointed out.

"But it was still a date," Adrien countered. "You can't deny that you got farther than anyone else managed."

"Not my fault you were too dense to ask her out yourself," the artist repeated.

"Ughhhh, and it's not my fault that you're such a pushover, you didn't have the guts to ask her out yourself and maybe make a chance for yourself until you were akumatized!"

"The point is, nobody was around to listen to my problems, so I sucked it up and got over it. I don't even like her anymore, I just thought you were acting pretty entitled, talking like that..."

"Whatever," Adrien shrugged. "Like you have room to talk. I think going after someone because your date rejected your corrupt alter ego is plenty entitled."

The sketchbook suddenly froze in mid-air, and a head of scarlet turned around slowly to face the model, turquoise eye narrowing.

"Say, Adrien, how exactly did you know about the date? I don't recall sharing it with anyone, and I trust Marinette enough to know that she wouldn't tell anyone, either." The shorter teen eyed him suspiciously, and Adrien suddenly found himself backed into a corner.

"I, uh….I...heard about it from someone….somewhere...after the incident. Yeah, it was a huge thing after your akumatization happened, and you know how fast word travels, hehe…."

"Oh, really? I'm sure.." Nathaniel's single visible eye narrowed still, and soon all that stood out from between his bangs were two thick black lines bordering a hint of turquoise on white. He did not look like he believed Adrien at all.

Adrien smiled and chuckled awkwardly - he had not realized how intimidating the ordinarily sweet, soft-spoken boy could appear.

"What are you hiding, Adrien?" Nathaniel whispered.

"N-nothing!" the blond insisted, leaning away the more Nathaniel leaned closer.

The redhead quickly leaned back.

"And why do you smell like camembert?" he asked annoyedly.

"Oh, uh, you could smell that?" Adrien asked apologetically. "Sorry, I, uh, just really love camembert, I guess," he shrugged, smiling casually.

"Yeah, well, try to cover up the smell, will ya? That stuff is vile," the redhead expressed disgustedly, digging around in his bag for something. He pulled out a small bottle and, a moment later, Adrien was engulfed in a toxic cloud of...minty strawberry…?

He coughed, fanning the vapour away from his face, and opened his eyes after a few seconds. Nathaniel put the bottle away in the meantime.

"There, now you look and smell approachable," he assured the model.

Then, as if nothing had even happened, the redhead lost himself once again in that mysterious sketchbook of his.

It was the end of class, and Nathaniel had just left the desk that Adrien never bothered getting up from when the blond came to a (rather late) realization.

"Did you just compliment me?" he asked to the artist's back. The model couldn't see his face but he could've sworn that the redhead rolled his eyes right then.

"Delayed reaction much?" he asked, pausing for but a moment before continuing on his way.

Adrien jumped up from his seat and all but chased after him.

"Wait, I need to know! Were you or were you no-"

"Just give it a rest, kid." A tiny black god appeared with an expression that said only most plainly 'I am 300% done with this shit'. "Hopefully this time around, you'll be a bit luckier, hey?"