- Chapter 8 -

Without a care of who might be looking in through the front window, Marinette danced around her shop to the jamming guitar solo of the one and only legendary Jagged Stone.

Shimmying next to her was an equally enthusiastic Leo. Although, he was – by far – the superior dancer. Especially when he leaped into the air, did a half spin and landed in a full-on split in the middle of their makeshift dance floor. Posing as he stuck the landing like a triumphant cheerleader.

Marinette did an effortless cartwheel and landed on one knee. Dramatically smashing her air-guitar to the floor as the song came to a climactic ending with a flurry of cymbals and an impressively held high note. To which, Leo matched pretty well.

Before the impromptu dance party had broken out, they had been diligently working and sewing. But after listening to Jagged's new single on continuous repeat, they couldn't help themselves and got caught up in the song.

While Leo was more of a pop princess when it came to his music preferences, he couldn't deny tapping into his rock-n-roll side when he hung out with Marinette. At first, he hadn't believed Marinette when she told him that she had designed Jagged's album cover art and a few outfit accessories back in high school. Although when she showed him the numerous pictures and personalized autographs, he was suddenly eating his own words.

"Babe, you need to frame these! Seriously, make a shadow box or a collage or something. They deserve to be flaunted. " He exclaimed, as he flipped through the photos that she had printed up and simply stored in a shoebox, along with her other high school memories.

While it wasn't a terrible idea, Marinette was not the type of person to boast about her previous successes. Or her bumping of elbows with globally recognized celebrities. She was hoping to gain enough business without drawing upon her past.

This fashion show being her next large undertaking. It both excited and terrified her all at the same time.

A few weeks ago, when she finally told Leo about her plans to host a fashion show, he had practically leapt into her arms with excitement. In fact, he squealed so loudly in the café that Marinette was certain that she heard a glass shatter at the octave.

Together, and with their fashion powers combined, they came to the decision to host a double event. Because when Leo subtly suggested it, Marinette loved the idea almost instantly. Leo with his designs, and Marinette with hers.

Of course, Candi and her drag sisters would open the show with a flourishing cloud of glitter and sequins. Doing what Candi did best, she'd work the crowd up and keep the energy high so that when Marinette's designs floated down the runway, saving the best for last, they would be met with nothing but gasps and awe.

Leo had already started picking out songs. And, from what Alya told Marinette, he was practically bombarding Nino with hourly text messages asking how he was going to mix them together and wanting to hear clips. Luckily, Nino was just as eager about the event because he was actually getting to showcase his own tracks and mixes. Although he could never match Leo's radiating enthusiasm as an entertainer.

Marinette had pretty much given the two of them control over the music. She had her hands full with bringing her new designs to life. Whilst Leo had some elements of his outfits already done up because he used them in his nightclub shows, she was having to start from scratch. Luckily, she had a growing list of friends to act as her models. The most prestigious, of course, being Adrien.

Needless to say, Leo was over at her shop as often as he could be, and the two of them were sewing their little hearts out and talking excitedly about their plans for the show.

Leo kept begging Marinette to dress Adrien in a something resembling a long, silken trench coat with swirling golden filigree patterning, which matched a leave-nothing-to-the-imagination, skintight trouser. And, most importantly, absolutely no shirt. Just jaw dropping, chiseled abs for days beneath the billowing coat. Carefully accentuated with body oil that Leo would happily apply himself.

And while Leo's pool of drool inducing idea was indeed tempting, Marinette kept struggling with her decision on exactly what Adrien would wear in her show. The man could wear everything and anything. And he probably had already done so in his modeling career. Which made her choice more of a challenge than she originally thought it would be.

So she let her subconscious think on it while she worked on Rose's and Juleka's outfits. Her artistic brain already settled on what they would be wearing, and she had sketches pinned up on the far wall. For Rose, definitely something cute, doll-like, and with a 70s flower child vibe. For Juleka, a romantic twist on her current gothic style but with a few uncharacteristic details.

A casual knock came from the front door just as Marinette and Leo were picking themselves up off the floor after finishing their dance party.

Alya closed up her dripping umbrella and left it outside the door as she stomped inside.

Leo rushed over to her instantly, saying hi, asking if Nino had finished his music yet, but also demanding to see her ring. To which, he squealed with utter delight when she held up her hand and fanned out her fingers to display it.

"I love!" he exclaimed, taking her outstretched hand in his and pulling it closer into his face to get a better look.

Leo turned back to Marinette, who was lowering the volume of the music so they could talk to one another and not be shouting.

"You and Mr. Sexy Pants did good, babe."

Alya added on to Leo's compliment. "Nino is a man of many, many things, but even I get that he would have never been able to handle this. I actually totally love the fact that you and Adrien helped pick it out."

Marinette smiled happily and her voice was lighthearted and sarcastic. "It wasn't easy, let me tell you."

Leo let go of Alya's hand, giving her a playful sideways look. "Did you hear about that whole ordeal? The poor thing. I honestly don't know how she put up with it. I served the man a latte and was gaging."

Alya nodded and smirked. "Marinette has had years of unfortunate practice in coping."

Marinette chuckled dryly at the two of them talking about her like she wasn't even there.

Leo shifted his weight and put a hand on his hip. "Riiiight, the telltale first crush. A teenage love story that was years in the making. And now, the dramatic return of the long lost love. The one that got away."

He finished his flowery words by fanning himself. "It's such a Hallmark movie moment."

"Oh stop." Marinette scolded him.

He huffed dramatically and walked past her and back towards the mannequin he had been fitting with a sequin-studded corset. All the while softly humming the wedding march song as he picked up his glue gun.

Marinette felt her eyes narrow in annoyance at Leo's teasing but she was also grinning because he wasn't wrong.

Alya started stripping off her rain boots and sighed heavily because it had been a long day and she was tired. But she had promised to be one of Marinette's models.

The two girls headed over to the back of the store and Marinette dug around in her workstation until she retrieved a measuring tape. To which, she began taking Alya's measurements and inputting them into her phone to remember later.

"Any word from Luka?" Alya asked as she stretched out her arms so Marinette could measure her wingspan.

Marinette felt a sad little twinge of apprehension build up in her gut at the mention of his name.

Sensing her uneasiness, Alya spoke again. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

Marinette shook her head slightly. "No, it's okay. I guess that things are okay? I mean, I saw him a few days ago…"

"And?" Alya pushed further. Unable to help herself. "What happened?"

"We got coffee and talked. Caught up a bit. They are in the middle of recording their album. And he's not to thrilled with how the producer is wanting to make all these changes…"

Alya dropped her arms with a dramatic huff. "Oh for crying out loud, Mari. What did he say when you told him about the show?"

"Oh." Marinette ducked her head slightly. "He thought it was a cool idea, I guess."

"A cool idea? That's it?" Alya insisted, her voice containing a bit of a growl of gathering annoyance.

Marinette shrugged. "I invited him to come."

"And is he?" Alya asked.

Marinette wrapped the tape measure around Alya's hips and typed the number into her phone before answering.

"He said he would try. He wasn't quite sure what the record company would have him doing."

Alya sighed and tried to quiet down her irritation. "Sometimes he annoys me." She muttered.

"Alya…" Marinette pleaded.

"Sorry. I know you're trying to make it work with him. But I just… sorry… maybe I shouldn't say anything."

Marinette sat down on her little stool. "No, please. Tell me."

Alya gave her an apprehensive look, but she kept talking. "It's just… you're clearly making an effort. And he's acting like he doesn't care."

Marinette stared at her feet. "He cares. Luka's just not the best at expressing his feelings."

"He literally writes and performs songs for a living." Alya countered.

Marinette shrugged hopelessly. "Yeah, but I can't expect him to forgive me overnight."

"Forgive you for what?!" Leo exclaimed as he charged headlong into their conversation.

Alya pointed at Leo and nodded in agreement. "What he said."

Marinette smiled dully. "For dumping him?" she suggested in a small voice.

"Babe, you can't be serious? That was like a billion years ago." Leo told her.

"Did he say that?" Alya questioned, looking ready to throw a punch.

"No…" Marinette answered simply, trying to calm the building storm. "But I just have this feeling…"

Alay interrupted. "Hold on, please don't tell me you're trying things again with him because you feel guilty? Girl, shit happens. People break up. Life goes on. Don't hold it against yourself."

Marinette stood up and walked a short distance away to put her measuring tape away. "I'm not. I promise, I'm not."

Leo bent over and whispered in Alya's ear. "She totally is."

"Definitely." Alya whispered back.

Marinette turned around. "I can hear you, ya know?"

Leo took a small step away from Alya and tried to look cute and innocent. "Sorry love. But you've got to admit that this doesn't sound right. Luka has, without a doubt, got that sultry, brooding, musician thing going for him. But, I'm not loving the whole 'She's gonna wait for me now' vibe. Just sayin'."

Marinette chewed on her bottom lip. "Look, I'm dealing with it, ok?"

Alya and Leo exchanged a look with one another.

"You shouldn't have to 'deal with it'." Alya told her, using air quotes to make her point.

Marinette let a long a heavy sigh escape her lips. Her arms crossed over her chest not out of anger, but because she suddenly felt the need to be hugged.

Everyone was quiet for a long moment. Alya had pulled out her phone to check her messages, and Leo started picking at the chipping nail polish on his fingernails.

The silence wasn't awkward, but it was daunting. Marinette had been telling herself to give Luka time and space. That he liked her and that was enough to wait for him, like he had waited for her. But after hearing what her closest friends had to say, maybe she was going about this all wrong?

Leo threw up his hands and walked the short distance back to his mannequin. In his usual sing-song voice, he called happily over his shoulder.

"I'm team Adrien anyway."

Alya busted out laughing. "Oh my god yes. Leo, if only you knew the half of it."

Marinette's eyes went wide at their sudden shift in conversation. "Leo! Alya!"

Leo waved a scrap of fabric in the air like a flag. "Oh I've been given the 411 on their tragic backstory. I'm fully committed to the cause now."

Alya wiped tears from her eyes from her uncontrollable laughter. "You should have been the two of them in high school. Totally oblivious. Like two ostriches with their heads in the sand."

"Stop! Don't even joke like that."

"Oh I believe you." Leo agreed with Alya, completely ignoring Marinette.

Alya kept talking. "And trust me, I did my best to make it happen for them. I deserve an award."

"Ooo, do tell!" Leo insisted.

Alya smirked playfully. "This one time, while on a fieldtrip, I switched seats with Adrien last minute because I knew she would fall asleep and lean on his shoulder."

"Did she?" Leo squealed.

"Oh, if I had my old phone, I could show you pictures." Alya chuckled. "Droll and everything."

"Alya! Knock it off!" Marinette begged frantically.

"And then, my crowning achievement." She gave Marinette a teasing sideways glance, holding Leo in suspense.

"Tell me!" Leo begged.

Alya's smirk brightened and told the famous story. "There was this school dance, and Nino and I carefully orchestrated this beautiful ballet of subtly that turned their innocent 'too shy to touch each other' dance into a proper hug-n-sway slow dance."

"No way!" Leo beamed.

"Oh it was glorious." Alya remembered fondly.

Marinette stepped between them, waving her hands back and forth to try and halt their mischievous conversation because it was making her face flush with embarrassment.

Leo's voice went all dreamy when he spoke. "Lord, I know you've got yourself a fine man Alya, but even you have to admit, that blonde is nothing but pure, sexy, totally bad for you kind of carbs. And I'd still spread him on a piece of toast, if that meant getting a bite."

Alya roared with uncontrollable laughter. Especially when Marinette began chasing Leo around with a roll of stiff ribbon, using it like a whip.

They all talked and laughed casually now as they went back to work once Marinette got a few good hits in. Although she couldn't deny the fact that Adrien could probably make even plain toast erotically appealing.

Leo busied himself with his outfit, turning on some bubbly pop music that got him singing while he worked. Alya took the opportunity to start asking a lot of unanswered questions about the show, while also trying to maintain a positive tone. She knew this show was going to make it or break it for Marinette's business.

And while she was thrilled with the idea, and super stoked to be a part of it, she couldn't help but be worried for her best friend. Especially upon seeing the multiple bolts of fabric and mounds embellishments that Marinette had purchased in order to create the outfits.

The two friends were discussing potential designs when Alya felt the urge to touch Marinette's arm, and pull her focus away from her sketches and up into the seriousness of Alya's face.

"I know that I sound like a broken record. But, you know I have to say it…" Her voice was low so that their conversation stayed between the two of them. Not that Leo could hear them over his singing.

Marinette ducked her head shyly. "I know."

"And you're sure about this?" Alya asked.

Marinette dropped her pencil and slumped down to put her face into her hands. "I have to do this Alya. I-I need to do this."

"I've heard that before too." Alya reminded her.

Marinette sighed. "I know. I know. I know. But, it's different this time. This show… It could be the one thing that turns this all around."

Before Alya could say anything more, Marinette added. "And if I'm going to go out, then I'm going to go out with a bang. And with no regrets."

Alya smiled gently. She had always believed that Marinette would do great things. She had that drive and sense of adventure. Risky? Sure. But what was life without a few risks?

If only Marinette would follow her own advice when it came to matters of the heart. Then again, this whole fashion show idea had only come about because of Adrien, and his unexpected return into her life. And Alya couldn't deny that the man still had a special impact on Marinette. She wondered if Marinette recognized it too.

Besides, nothing about his idea seemed to be out of malice or spite. He truly did not want to see her fail either. So, for that reason and many others, Alya decided that this show was a fantastic idea.

Glancing down at the numerous sketches Marinette had done, Alya suddenly knew exactly what Marinette should design for her.

"Girl, you should make my wedding dress."

Marinette's head lifted up and her eyes went wide. "A-Alya that's… Are you serious?"

Alya felt her eyes narrow in determination. "One thousand percent serious. No one else would do it better than you. And it would mean more if you were the one to make it."

Marinette was honored. Truly and completely honored to do this for her. But there was a tiny traditional voice in the back of her mind that poured cautionary words from her lips.

"But, if you wear it in the show…? Won't he see it? You know, before the wedding?"

Alya waved her comment away. "Pfft, We're not so old fashioned to care about stuff like that." She then smirked mischievously. "It'll be like a little sneak preview. Making absolutely sure he's not having any second thoughts."

Marinette giggled. "I doubt that Nino would dare to have second thoughts."

Alya stood up straighter. "True. But I'm also kinda loving the idea of surprising this on him."

She glanced at Marinette, casually adding. "It doesn't need to be the final dress. But a good first draft, ya know?"

Marinette shook her head. "Oh hell no. If I'm doing this, then I'm doing it right from the beginning."

She grabbed up a blank sheet of paper and started to sketch out some concepts. Alya watched her work and added her input, while scrolling through pictures on her phone of dresses she'd already been casually looking at.

As they worked out the design, Leo got curious and joined them. Upon learning about their wedding dress idea, he became instantly ecstatic and quickly whipped out his numerous Pintrest boards of ideas he'd been saving for his own wedding. He and Alya began pouring over Pintrest boards of table centerpieces, cake toppers, and decorations – leaving Marinette alone with her sketchpad.

Not that she felt alone at all. In fact, her mind was spinning so fast, that her hand could barely keep up. Beautiful ideas were flowing from her creative brain, and she couldn't stop them. She could only make quick, rough notes to go back and elaborate on later.

Marinette had never intended for the fashion show to showcase such formal designs. But now that she agreed to make Alya's dress, her whole dynamic was shifting.

She paused mid thought. Feeling a tingling sensation across her skin as she suddenly knew exactly what Adrien would be wearing. An ensemble worthy of the gentlemen that he was.

Color flushed in her face, settling contently warm in her cheeks as she sketched it out.

Several weeks later, Adrien was sitting in the back of his private car on the way to his Father's house for dinner. He did not particularly enjoy these dinners, but they did not happen that often. So, when they did, he knew better than to blow them off.

While his Father was still very much the aloof and emotionless individual of his childhood, there were fleeting moments of clarity and praise. Especially when it came to discussing Adrien's successes with his company. Although, he was also just as quick to point out Adrien's flaws and mistakes.

Adrien had long learned to simply accept and go along with his Father's controlling nature. And while that sounded ridiculously cruel, it had also taught him how to uniquely live his life by bending and manipulating those rules just enough to keep his allowed freedoms, but also maintain that all-important image of the Gabriel brand. Because, like it or not, he couldn't escape from it.

Most of the time, it was better to just comply and keep the peace. Knowing that once he left or got called away, Adrien would manage things in his own way.

Which was one of the many reasons Adrien wanted to return to Paris. He was worried that his Father's attributes were starting to rub off on him. Honing these manipulative skillsets was not the type of man he wished to become.

And that was why being Chat Noir was such an important part of himself. Chat Noir was the person he strived to be. Loyal, helpful, caring, and, maybe, just a little bit playful. Call it an escape, if you will. But it was weird to find freedom while hiding behind a mask.

And yet, Adrien wore his own mask every day. This branded image. So, in his heart, Chat Noir wasn't a mask. It was him. His true self.

And as much as he tried to deny it, his heart still skipped multiple beats when Ladybug unknowingly admitted something personal about her civilian self. Because, unlike him, she seemed to be the exact same lovely person both in and out of her mask. And God did he still want to know that person.

Closing his eyes in the stillness of the car, he vividly remembered their conversation only a few weeks ago.

He had been assisted her and the Paris Fire Department with a pretty large building fire. And, while she had already pulled all of the people out of the collapsing building, he had riskily rushed back into the intense flames to rescue the family's beloved cat. Safely depositing the fellow feline into the sobbing young daughter's awaiting arms.

The two superheroes left the scene feeling a bit tenderhearted. And that led to some casual chit-chat atop the Eiffel Tower before calling it a night.

"You're sighing a lot, M'lady." Chat Noir told her as he sat comfortably beside her with both of their legs dangling over one of the thick metal trusses.

"Am I?" she asked, sitting up straighter. "Sorry. I guess I have a lot on my mind."

"Care to share?" he offered.

She sighed deeply, consciously recognized the fact that she had done it again, and laughed at herself.

"My business isn't doing well." She admitted to him. And while she had a plan in the works to hopefully fix her situation. Things still felt scary and weighed on her mind.

Chat's ears instantly perked up when she told him what was bothering her. He drew in a quick, sharp breath, trying to keep his heart from pounding so strongly.

"I didn't know you owned a business."

Realizing her mistake, she felt her shoulders droop. "Yeah... I probably shouldn't have told you that."

He stared at her profile. Happy to have another piece to the Ladybug puzzle. Although it still told him nothing about her.

"You can tell me anything. You know that, right? I'm always here for you."

She smiled dully, but didn't look up at him. In fact, she seemed to be even more distracted with her own thoughts now.

He wanted to push her for more. The questions were practically burning on his tongue. But it wasn't right to pry. Not when he watched as her face twisted with deep contemplation and flashes raw emotion.

Was it so wrong to want to scoop her up into a hug and quiet those thoughts swirling in her head? Because he had to physically restrain himself from touching her. Instead, he offered her his silence and his physical presence of sitting beside her, while letting his promise hang in the heavy air.

After a long pause, she finally spoke again. But her voice was the faintest of sad whispers.

"Thanks kitty."

Adrien felt himself sigh as the memory abruptly dissipated away because his car door opened and jostled his elbow that was leaning heavily against the armrest. She may forever be a mystery to him. But that was okay.

Okay, it wasn't okay. But it had to be okay. Okay?

Exiting the car, Adrien took a steadying breath as he walked into the foyer of his Father's mansion. Memories of his youth washed over him as he felt the metaphorical chill in the air. The place still felt cold and hopelessly unwelcoming. Always way too clean. And decorated with way too much grey.

He smoothed down his crisp ivory colored oxford, knowing that his Father liked seeing him in muted colors. But he had rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, showing off the beige toned but fun paisley pattern on the cuffs. The brown dress pants were specifically tailored so that he could wear loafers and not appear to be too casual.

Dinners with his father were seldom pleasant, so he at least wanted his feet to be comfortable. Never mind the fact that he had been buzzed through three different security checkpoints: one at the front gate, then the second gate, and finally at the front door, and still no one was here to greet him as he walked in. Further adding to that cold and empty illusion even with such a large house.

Resisting the urge to stuff his hands into his pockets and sulk, he calmly strolled towards the dining room. About half way there, he began to hear the high-pitched chatter of voices. Multiple voices, in fact. Very distinctly female.

He rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Chloe Bourgeois and both of her parents. Her portly father wasn't a surprise to see. But her mother lived in New York for most of the year, so her presence was a bit unexpected.

Chloe peered in his direction, saw him and excitedly rushed over to fiercely hug him. Her designer high heels tapping along the marble floor as they granted her another lofty four inches of height.

"Adri-kins." She cooed happily. Her nickname for him having stuck since they were kids.

Adrien did not hug her back. Instead he politely acknowledged everyone else standing in the hallway.

"Chloe, Mr. Bourgeois, Mrs. Bourgeois, great to see you both. What brings you here?"

"Your father extended us the invitation for dinner." Mrs. Bourgeois told him. Although her tone was a bit flippant as she admired her manicure.

Chloe petted his arm, drawing his attention back down to her. "You look surprised, darling. Did you forget?"

Forget? How could he forget something if he never knew it was happening? This all felt like a set up.

To save face, he calmly replied. "Must have misread my calendar."

At that point, Natalie walked in and ushered them all into the dining room.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Chloe and her parents sat on one side of the gigantic table, while Gabriel sat at the head of the table, and Adrien sat all alone on the other side. Conversation drifted safely to topics of fashion and the upcoming seasonal lines.

For the later part of the meal, Adrien assumed that the Bourgeois' had been invited simply as guests, and he started to relax.

But leave it to his Father to have other motives.

"I see that you and Miss Bourgeois have become quite well acquainted recently?" Gabriel addressed him.

Adrien wasn't sure quite sure what was be asked with the phrasing of that question. So he simply nodded.

Chloe spoke up through a fluttering of her glued on eyelashes. "I was quite excited when Adrien asked to reconnect with me upon returning to Paris. We had such a wonderful time together. Didn't we?"

Adrien nodded again because what she said was true. Even though it had been weeks ago, and he pretty much had forgotten about it. He took another few bites of his food. And the group conversation ground to an unexpected halt.

Gabriel waved his hand, as if annoyed with his son for having to keep the conversation going himself.

In a scolding tone, Gabriel said. "Adrien, I invited the Bourgeois' here tonight, so you could ask them properly."

Adrien barely chewed his bite and swallowed it down hard. It slid down his throat like a lump. He slowly turned his head to glance at Chloe, who was smiling from ear to ear. She caught his gaze and nodded her head enthusiastically. Urging him along with her excited eyes.

Clearly, he was the only one in the room who didn't know what in the hell was going on. And now his Father was putting words into his mouth.

Trying not to act a fool, because he could feel his Father's steely glare on the back of his neck, he turned to Mr. and Mrs. Bourgeois, who were both staring at him blankly. Mr. Bourgeois was smiling. Mrs. Bourgeois was not.

Adrien retrieved the napkin from his lap and touched the cloth to the side of his lips, buying himself another few seconds to try and put the pieces together. The room was deathly quiet. And it was unnerving.

However his poor brain could not draw the obvious conclusion. This felt like a test that he hadn't studied for.

Watching his adult son flounder in his silence, Gabriel finally cut through the tension.

His voice was firm and direct. "To date their daughter."

It took every bit of self-control he possessed to not drop his jaw to the floor in shock and keep his face neutral. His green eyes flashed as anger built up behind them.

He pushed it down and locked it away with the rest of his emotions.

He couldn't be mad at Chloe. She seemed to be playing as much of a part in this, as he was. Although, she was the only one who was enjoying it. Especially when she blew a kiss at him from across the wide table.

Strategically, he turned the statement back on his Father. Choosing to remind him of the fact that it was all his idea for Adrien to maintain this playboy image he'd been portraying for so many years.

"I thought that I wasn't to be dating?" He enquired. Feeling kinda like he was about to be sold to the highest bidder.

Gabriel lifted his water glass, took a shallow sip and set it back down.

He cleared his throat. "And that image has worked well in maintaining your youth and marketability in the industry. But it's time that we focus on a more grown up approach."

Adrien set his silverware down, careful not to let them make any unnecessary noise in his frustration. His appetite was gone. And the food he had eaten was now churning in his stomach, making him feel nauseous.

He could shout at his Father for doing this. For setting him up, and controlling yet another thing about his life. One that he always thought he would get a final say in: his own heart.

He had never wanted to become this fake person. The playboy attitude never felt right with him. Years ago, he would have loved the opportunity to appear more candid and grown up. To date with the possibilities of having a real, true girlfriend. And do what all couples strived to do: finding that person with whom you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

If the reins were truly being freed, then why not let him do that part of it on his own? Or did his Father, like most things, not trust him to find a suitable candidate? Someone to carry on the precious and tarnishable Agreste name.

Adrien started to slouch down in his chair and ruin his perfect posture, but he quickly caught himself.

He pushed a fake smile to his lips, and turned back to the Bourgeois family who seemed poised on the edge of their seats, waiting for a reply.

He ignored their anxious gazes and directed his attention to Chloe.

"Please excuse me for a moment. Chloe, may I have a word?" He pushed himself up and out of his chair.

Chloe did the same and followed him out of the dining room in silence. Standing in the hall alone together, he finally let out heavy sigh that had been weighing on him.

"I thought you'd be happy?" Chloe spoke up, her voice sounding a bit sad.

He looked at her, feeling a spike of guilt for upsetting her. "I'm just surprised." He admitted truthfully.

Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. "Why?" she demanded. "I thought this was what you wanted?"

Adrien's eyes narrowed. "Chloe, I've literally just been given permission to change everything about my image, and the way I've lived my life up until now. You'll have to excuse me if I'm still trying to understand why."

She huffed and dropped one arm to dramatically gesture in the air. "Then why ask me out if you didn't want this to happen?"

He shrugged, not meaning to be insulting. "I guess I didn't see it as a date…?"

Chloe's sharp blue eyes glared at him. And then she did what she did best, jumped to conclusions.

"So this is my fault now?"

Adrien took a step towards her, trying to pour out an apology with his gentle tone. "No. No that's not what I meant."

She raised her chin and narrowed her piercing blue eyes. "Are you asking me to go back in there and tell my daddy and mommy – who flew in from New York to be here – that you're not interested in me? That this whole evening was a giant waste of their time?"

He took another step towards her, and she turned around sharply, giving him her back. Unable to see her face, he couldn't tell if her shoulders were shaking from tears or anger. Either way, he felt like an asshole.

"Chloe, please." He pleased. "Come on. You're one of the few people who could really understand what it is like to be me. To have to live in the spotlight 24/7. I need time to process this. That's all I'm asking for, just some time."

She glanced over her shoulder, but did not turn around completely. Her glossy lips turning upwards into a small smile.

"Fine." She told him. "I'll give you time. If that's what you want."

Adrien let his shoulders relax. Not sure how much time he needed. But he was glad to have it.

"Thanks Chloe."

Chloe turned back around and closed the distance between them. She kissed him so quickly that he barely felt the press of her lips against his. But he was suddenly licking away her leftover lip gloss.

She wove her arm through his, and immediately pulled him back towards the dining room.

Adrien went back in there and asked the Bourgeois' for their permission, simply because he felt like he had to. He and Chloe had a private understanding between them. So she at least knew where he was coming from, and she had promised to give him time. And their white lie would save the evening.

As he sat in the back of the towncar on the way back to his apartment, he was casually scrolling through his phone when the first alert popped up on one of his social media accounts. He ignored it, until another one popped up. Followed by a third. Then a fourth.

He closed the email he was reading and opened one of the many social apps.

The words stared back at him and made his eyes go wide.

Chloe Bourgeois is… in a relationship with… Adrien Agreste.

And he was tagged in every single notification. Blaringly public. It was everywhere. The internet knew, and thus the World knew.

What in the hell was this? Had she not listened to a single word he'd said?

With his gathering irritation, he dialed her number. She picked up on the third ring.

"Hi my Adri-kins." She cooed.

He didn't hesitate. "Chloe, why did you change all of your socials to say we are dating? I thought we agreed…?"

She cut him off with a quick, sharp but jovial tone. "We still have to maintain the image, you silly. Our parents need to believe it, so why not? Besides, it'll be good press for your upcoming Spring line. And I've already got an interview scheduled with Vogue…"

Adrien rubbed his temple and leaned forward on the leather seat. "Chloe, this… this isn't what I wanted."

He heard her huff in irritation. "Well, while you are 'taking your time' or whatever. I still have my own image to uphold. Besides, what's the big deal?"

Adrien leaned backwards, letting his head bang into the back of the seat sharply. He was seriously starting to hate that word 'image'. It was ruling his life.

However, after rubbing his temple a bit harder, he decided that it didn't matter. Anyone close to him would know better than to believe what they read on the internet.

And she was half right. He did have an obligation to her now. If she hadn't updated social media, her parents would have questioned things, and that would have sparked another intense conversation. Perhaps it was for the best.

"Fine. Keep them up. But remember what we talked about, ok?"

"Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say, darling." But her voice sounded distant and uncaring.

He wished her a goodnight and hung up as the car approached his building and he got out in a huff. While in the elevator, the air felt like it was suffocating him. He began to unbutton his shirt to try and breathe more clearly.

Adrien frustratingly slammed the door to his apartment closed with a bit too much force. The wall faintly shook at the impact. He felt a little guilty only because it was so late, and his downstairs neighbors probably heard that.

Plagg flew out of his pocket. "Cheer up kid. It's not the end of the world." And buzzed off towards the kitchen.

Plagg was right, it wasn't the end of the world. But it still… sucked. And he was okay with being upset about it, at least for right now.

Before he walked down the hall and further into his luxurious apartment, his eyes caught sight of a plastic garment bag hanging from the hat and umbrella stand by the front door. He eyed it curiously, wondering what it was for.

While it wasn't unusual to have things left hanging there by his assistant. His dry cleaning normally came in a clear plastic bag, this one was more for traveling. It looked used too.

There was a note folded over and taped to the outside of the bag. Flipping open the note, he felt his anger dissipate away almost instantly as he read the curvy cursive words.

Adrien, Please try this on when you can, and let me know if anything needs adjusting. It's for the show. Thanks a bunch! – Marinette.

Suddenly excited he pulled the garment bag off of the stand and brought it out into the living room, draping it over the plush couch so he could fully unzip it.

What appeared from inside was not something he had expected at all. He let out a little huff of surprise.

It was the beginnings of a full tuxedo. Complete with jacket, pants and a spread collar crisp white tuxedo shirt.

Pulling it fully out of the bag, he ran his fingers along the satin buttons. His knowledgeable eyes scanned the peak lapel jacket with its nearly invisible seams.

"A penguin suit. Great." Plagg muttered from over his shoulder.

"Keep your stinky cheese far away." Adrien ordered. He would hate himself forever if something were to happen to all the work that she'd put into this.

He couldn't wait a second longer to try it on. He hastily kicked off his shoes and started to strip off his clothes, much to the wails and cries of his humiliated kwami.

He touched the pieces with absolute care as he slipped them on, afraid to accidentally rip anything. To his absolute amazement, everything fit perfectly. In fact, it fit better than some of his high-end clothes. He'd had custom tailored clothes before. But this… this was exceptional. How had she done this without taking any measurements?

He turned to look at himself in the nearby decorative mirror. Petting the subtle satin stripe that traveled up the side of the pants. Realizing he had a full size mirror upstairs, he grabbed his phone and bolted up the stairs.

Nothing pinched or bunched when he moved, not even when he climbed the stairs. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, he swayed back and forth, admiring the fit and elegance he felt in it.

It felt so good to be in something so formal and yet classically refined. No more avant-guarde, apocalyptic designs that left him feeling rather violated. God, he really had modeled some absolute crap during his career. But this, this was a beautiful breath of tradition and timeless style.

Turning away from the mirror for a second, he went into his closet and quickly put on a pair of black dress shoes to complete the look.

Returning to the mirror he let out a puffy gasp of amazement. The hem of the pants was perfect too.

Retrieving his phone, he began to snap some mirror selfies, and instantly began sending them to Marinette. By the fourth picture, he abruptly realized that it was after midnight, and she was probably asleep. Or worse, he was waking her up by blowing up her phone.

Before his guilt to manifest any further, his phone began to ring and her name flashed across the screen.

Smiling to himself, he answered it almost instantly.

"Marinette!" he greeted.

"H-Hey. Sorry to bother you, but I got the pictures… and I…"

"It fits perfect. Better than perfect actually." He exclaimed, cutting her off. "Seriously. How did you do it? I've had suits made by Italian master tailors, and they still can't get it as good as you did."

She chuckled dryly and coughed to cover it up. "Just lucky I guess." She answered shyly.

Adrien pivoted in the mirror. "I can't find a single thing wrong with it."

"Oh well, it's kinda still got a few things missing. I don't have the split tartan quite right. And I think I want to add a subtle pattern to help bring out the green."

"Green?" Adrien questioned.

Marinette hesitated slightly. "Umm, yeah. It's green. Not black. Did you not notice?"

He bolted into the bathroom, turning on the harsh florescent lighting overhead. Sure enough, it was such a dark forest green color that he thought for sure that it had been black. But now that she had pointed it out, he couldn't un-see it. He liked it even more now. The color brought out the gold tones to his skin, accentuated by his mop of blonde hair.

"Holy crap, it is." He exclaimed. "Wow, that's so different."

"I like the shoes with it." She told him, unsure if that was a compliment or not. "Do you have any gold-looking cufflinks?"

He had quite a few sets of real gold cufflinks, so that was easy enough. "Yeah, I do."

"Perfect, yeah. If you could wear the shoes and the cufflinks to the show. I think that's all you'll need."

If all he needed to bring was his own shoes and some cufflinks, then that was pretty freaking amazing.

"Sure." He agreed, running his hand down the label. "Anything else? What else do you think would look good with it?"

"I think that's about it." She told him. "I'm just so glad that it fits."

"It does. It's really, really great work, Mari." Adrien complimented wholeheartedly.

He didn't want to take it off. In fact, he suddenly had the urge to go to a fancy Ball and waltz.

He admired himself in the bathroom mirror one last time before shutting off the light and heading back into the bedroom.

Marinette spoke up. "Would you mind terribly leaving it with your building's security, and I'll swing by and pick it up? Like I said, I still need to modify a few things."

"I'll have my assistant bring it to you at your shop tomorrow." Adrien offered.

"Oh, okay. Sure. That works too." She chuckled. Because of course he had an assistant to run frivolous errands for him.

Adrien touched the buttons of the shirt, still completely enamored with the design and the way it made him feel. But that was the way clothes should be.

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he finally asked her. "Can I ask, why a tux? I thought for sure you'd put me in something more casual."

There was a long pause. He could hear fidgeting in the background, followed by a nervous chuckle.

"Mari?" he asked, being sure the call didn't get dropped.

"Yeah, I'm here." She confirmed. There was another short pause, her voice sounded panicky.

"It's just… well… I kind of have this crazy idea. And since you offered to model, I thought that I'd just kinda run with it…"

Adrien sat down on his bed, listening attentively. "What kind of idea?"

"You have to promise that you won't tell anyone." She told him, her voice suddenly very series. "Especially Nino."

Okay, that was unusual. Still, he promised. What's the worst she could say? That the tuxedo was going to tear away to reveal a sequin-studded speedo? Not that he wouldn't totally rock it.

Marinette sighed tensely. "I'm making Alya's wedding dress."

Adrien felt himself physically smile into the phone. "Are you serious?"

"Heh heh, yeah."

"Wow. Oh wow. That's amazing." Adrien told her. "So, what, am I like her groom, or something?"

He heard that nervous chuckle again. "Sort of. I wanted to showcase some formal designs. And when Alya agreed to be a model, we suddenly had this idea to do her wedding dress. And she was totally on board. I actually think I made her cry a little bit…"

"Is Alya going to be modeling her own wedding gown?" he asked.

"Yeah. She wants to surprise Nino. Little bit of a sneak peek, ya know? Since he will be DJing the show."

"He will definitely be surprised." Adrien remarked and then gently adding. "I'm totally honored, by the way. I had no idea what to expect. And now that I know… I feel… I feel like this… like this is really going to be something special."

Marinette sighed again, but this time it was happy sounding noise. Thank goodness he couldn't see her physically swooning. But his words were so soothing that she was about to melt. It loosened her lips and made her more honest.

"I hope so. I've been going a little nuts with the preparations. I have like this perfect vision, in my head, of how the night will go. It feels so real and yet, still only a dream. Like I can picture every little detail. And then I'm worried that I'm setting too high of an expectation…"

"Mari…" Adrien interjected matching her mellow tone and wanting to put her mind at ease.

But she jumped in again before he could say anything further. Speaking in rushed almost frantic sentences now.

"Sorry! Sorry, I don't mean to dump on you like that. It's like, wow, super late. I'm sure you have better things to do. Like probably sleep. So, yeah… Anyways… Thank you so much for trying the tuxedo on and giving me feedback."

"It's fine Marinette. Call me anytime. Seriously, I don't mind."

There was another short pause. "Thanks Adrien." She murmured softly, sounding more relaxed.

"Get some rest, okay?" he told her.

"Y-Yeah, you too. G-Goodnight."

"Night." And he hung up.

He sat there for another few moments, staring at his phone screen. His eyes wandered down to the tuxedo he was still wearing.

Marinette had serious talent. He was in the same business after all; he knew what true talent was. He wholly admired her modern twist on the classics. Her work was high quality and completely deserving of every spotlight. He sincerely hoped that this show would give her the attention she deserved.

And he would do his absolute best to ensure that it happened.

Author's Note: Hello Everyone! Thanks for reading. We're on Chapter 8 already, can you believe it? I can't wait to start the next chapter. I'm totally loving the vibe of this story. It has a completely different voice then my others. More silly personality. Or maybe that's just because of Leo? lol I love reading your comments, so please leave one and say Hi.