chapter one: monochrome no longer
His world is grey, shaded with blacks and whites just like the piano keys he plays. There is a melody he knows, sung as notes ring in the air, but he has long forgotten the sound. It's like he's under water, breath burning in his lungs as sound waves slow down and disperse–never to be heard, never to exist.
Just like mother.
He's drowning in grey, in grief as the piano seat next to him remains empty. There is no warm hand on his shoulder or loving praise whispered in his ear. There is no one beside him to chide him for slamming his fingers on the piano keys, hoping to hear something, hoping to stop the ice that's speedily freezing his heart, his soul.
All that remains is Adrien as he practices his piano like he's supposed to every Tuesday afternoon, buried under an ice cap, drowning in grey and sinking into darkness. And the ruckus that he makes echoes through the house, biting each and every person as he cries out and slams the keys with all his might.
The tears don't pool and make a new person.
And his cries don't invite someone to check on him.
I'll be good this time–just come back!
His world is grey, organized and controlled as he moves between his lessons and photo shoots. His father is grey too, shaded with rich black at the edges, and smile so white it reminds him of death.
Adrien hasn't played the piano in three months, unable to hear the sounds beyond his grief.
The world is only brighter when Chloe shoves her way back into his life, the pink of her lips and the blue of her eyes almost peeking through the monochrome landscape.
They don't, but they almost.
"Just come to school with me this year," she says quietly as she leans against his bedroom wall.
Adrien can only lay there and stare the ceiling, that's just as grey as everything else.
"I can't," he starts, his voice tired, his soul tired. "Father…"
Though he can't hear the sounds of the piano, he can definitely hear and feel Chloe's stomps as she comes over to him and stands over him, grabbing a fistful of shirt and hoisting him in the hair.
There's a flicker and he can kinda see the platinum blonde of her hair.
"I'm tired of this," she growls. "I'm sick of seeing you like this."
She lets go his shirt and he thuds to the ground. "Grow up, Adrien."
And for the first time in forever, he's seeing red, sparking like a fire as he glares at her propped up on his elbows. "You don't know–" he starts to yell, slick black venom rolling off his tongue–
–but she kicks him, the tip of her shoe digging into his ribs. "You better take that back, Adri," and this time she does spit and it's fire and it's icy and he's being burnt alive.
All Adrien can do is curl onto his side, gasping as a bruise blooms on his skin. He can't even look at her, his mouth pressed in firm flat line.
"I don't have my mother either…" she whispers harsh, biting.
And ice is dumped all over him, freezing and cooling and steaming as the heat of his anger melts it away.
"I–I–" he fumbles, but nothing else comes out.
I'm sorry.
I forgot.
The seconds pass, long seconds before Chloe picks up her handbag and makes her way to the door. Footsteps halt as she places her hand on the knob.
"Just come to school this year, okay?"
"…yeah, okay."
His world is grey, but it's moving and Adrien counts that as a blessing. He's moving through the grey, through the sludge and refuses to get stuck. He doesn't play the piano, can't even still as the shiny black wood gathers dust, but he's moving.
He's living and that in itself is worth as much any song.
His is world is grey and a little box sits on his bedroom coffee table.
It's a white box, glistening and for the first time, it doesn't remind him of death, but birth.
His world is grey and white is peeking through, a slip of something when curiosity tickles the back of his mind.
I just have to try.
And then–his world explodes with color.
With green, with black, with blue, with red and he can't breathe. He's flying, his soaring, his fingers are almost at the sun and his world is filled with colors.
Her eyes, her smile–the stars and the sky molded into one.
Me, myself, this power surging in my veins.
Chat Noir laughs as he launches himself off the roof of one building onto the next, all of Paris painted with purples, pinks, and oranges. Bright red shines before him and he has to follow as she smiles over shoulder, blue eyes crinkled.
"Hurry up, aren't you coming?"
His world is being saturated with rose, sky blue, and silver.
"Wait up, my lady!"
Adrien still can't touch the piano, but he finally notices the indigo hue of the wood as his fingers brush away the dust.
His heart still aches when there is no hug to greet him at home.
But sometimes, if he's lucky, he can hear a violin being played if lingers a little bit longer after school. Long hums of the strings dance through the air, low notes gasping for air and it makes his heart bleed.
And then–and then–it picks up speed and screams and shouts and all Adrien can see is the world flashing before his very eyes, filled with bright colors, with pinks, with blues, with reds as it sinks into his skin.
And on that day, when the madness sings through the building Adrien finally finds courage to go searching. After all, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. So, he looks and he climbs and holds his breath when he pauses before the music room.
He pushes it open as quietly as he can–like as if the world can't hear the same notes he can–and all he can see is red.
Red like my love, red like you, red like us.
But then he blinks, his vision clearing to leave Marinette, tears in her eyes and sweat at her brows as she fiddles out the last note.
In that moment, when she looks up and sees him staring, all he can see is blue.
His world is filled with color, with greens, with blues, with reds, and everything in between.
Yet in this moment, his heart thuds in his chest, his soul going haywire, he wonders exactly what it all means.