The morning had a delicate chill that was drawn in by the light breezes that gave his spine a quick shudder. He flipped the collar of his black sweater up and crossed his leg. "Perhaps I should have had my drink inside."

The morning was unusually bright, pedestrians passing by the small coffee shop with their own business, talking to others or themselves aloud. He ignored them, keeping in mind his father's sterns lessons about eavesdropping, and took another sip of his French Vanilla Black tea, enjoying the view of the park across the way. Children played with their dogs as parents read newspapers and chatted amongst one another.

Honestly, I don't know why I didn't take up the transfer student offer sooner, he thought back to the countless times he had dismissed the idea of traveling around the world for educational purposes, it's nice to have peace and quiet. No constant noise of photographers, no set meetings with my father, and no needless interviews about my brother's modelling antics…

He took his spoon and mindlessly swirled it in his drink. He visualized sitting at the long dinner table in their empty dining hall, he on one end of the table, his younger brother on the other. They would regularly eat together, chatting about school and their interests.

It was sort of nice having someone to talk to at the dinner table…but I'm sure Adrien has found other means of socializing at his new school.

"Morning, Felix."

He was so caught up in his thoughts he had forgotten to notice the lovely young British blonde sitting across from him, unwrapping a maple donut. Her long hair was done up in a tight braid that wished in the wind, brushing her tanned neck, and her thin violet vest and lilac turtleneck complimented the plum of her irises.

"Well, Lyra," Felix returned the greeting, "it's a surprise to see you up this early in the morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm usually up earlier, actually," she took a wee bite of her snack, "and over to the music hall for my lessons. I thought I'd take a break today and come by for a bite to eat. Didn't know I'd find you here. Aren't you supposed to be speaking to your father? You know, one of those scheduled calls he gives you weekly?"

Did I say NO set meetings with my father? Guess there's no escaping his routine-run life.

"I'm sure we won't mind missing a call with me. In fact, it'll give him more time to work. Besides, I'm the one who calls him. He's much too busy to call me."

She gave him one of her signature eye rolls and leaned in closer. "Look, I understand how busy parents can be. Before I left to come live here with my Aunt, all my parents breathed was work. Guess that's what I get for having Astrologers, always looking past the clouds and never two feet beside them. You're lucky."

"How so?"

She smirked. "Your parents still get that they're on Earth. Mine are out of this world, and not in the nice way."

"Well, at least my dad is…I think."

"Oh, right," Lyra averted her gaze, "sorry. I forgot."

I don't blame her. I don't know if I can blame anyone for what happened to mother…I don't even know if I understand it all yet…time to change the subject.

"So," He finished the last of his tea and set the cup aside as a large cloud rolled by, casting shadows over Lyra's tuff of bangs, "shall you regale me with the tales of your upcoming performances?"

"You want to know? Really? Aw, you do care."

"I'm not cold-blooded, you know."

"Now I do."

Felix gave her a snooty glare, to which she replied with the tiniest stick out of the tongue. "My violin is tuned and ready for combat."

"Promise me you won't go full She-Ra like you did last time." Felix clearly reminisced about her last concert, where she took part in a swordfight against a cocky flutist, using her bow as a choice weapon. "You almost got kicked out."

"She started it!" Lyra gave a puffy pout and chomped into her donut. "Sassy Italian girl. And to think, I was going to take up the flute!"

"I doubt she's that bad. She was just worked up…a lot like a certain violinist-"

"I know, I know," she sighed, "good thing no one was recording, right?"

"…"

"…RIGHT?"

"…I need to make a few calls when I get home."

"Lyra? Felix?" A familiar voice broke up their enticing conversation. "Hey, long time no see!"

From along the sidewalk jogged up Victor, dawning his regular green seaman's jumper jacket (Father's most popular design) and emerald cap, though the dark camo gym shorts were new. He stopped by our table and, taking Lyra's hand, gave her a peck on the back of it. "My lady."

"Well," she slurred her words sarcastically, "isn't someone being a gentleman today. Out for a lovely morning jog, I see?"

"Of course," he showed off his apparent 'guns', "getting ready for the track meet in a month. Can't back down now. I am the fastest runner out of the entire school, and I'm not afraid to hold that honour with pride."

Victor had every right to claim the title. He could run circles around the rest of the track team, and his parents, the fine accountants they were, were there at every track meet, most of the time without a calculator in hand.

"So," he fixed his cap up and gave us a scan over with his olive eyes, "how's it been going? Am I going to be able to rock out at your next concert, Lyra?"

"You don't rock out to violin, Victor, you thoughtfully emerge yourself in the rhythm."

"You can emerge yourself AND rock out, you know. Now, if you don't mind," Victor stretched his arms out, "I'm about to run faster than…than…than Hermes himself!"

"You are your Greek mythological references," Felix rested his head on his hand, elbow against the cold table top, "I told you, you're getting far too addicted to that Greek geek book series, Perdy Jack's Son."

"Percy Jackson, you bookworm. And what's wrong with loving mythology? Gives me something to think about while I run."

The front pocket of his jacket began to vibrant, and as quick as Hermes as whipped his phone out and read the latest message, a hint of disappointment visible. "Darn."

"What's wrong?"

"It's just a reminder from the phone company that I need to pay up soon."

"Darn those companies," Felix commented, "trying to steal all your money."

"Get serious, Agreste," Victor frowned, "look…have either of you seen Benjamin around lately?"

Lyra and Felix exchanged curious glances. "No, sorry," Lyra shrugged, "why? He's not skipping out on any project work, is he?"

"Him? Skip out on work? The guy had a guilt trip after stumbling over my chair in and dropping shavings on my shoes in math. For a week."

"Then why do you need a text from him?"

Victor glanced up and down the road before leaning in closer, his expression grim.

"I think Benjamin's missing."