The key clicked and she pulled it back out of the lock. She hitched her load higher up on her back, hands gripping the straps tightly. Marinette wondered for a second, teeth worrying her bottom lip, if her bike would be safe enough locked up here or if she should move it somewhere else.
You know, maybe she should move it, it was right out in the open here. Or even better, she could just abandon ship right now and cycle back home! She could hide away in her room for as long as it took them to forget all about the silly little girl who was supposed to start today, she could…
"Marinette! Stop doubting yourself, you'll be fine!"
The stern whisper came from the purse at her side, the customary hiding place of Marinette's loving Kwami companion, Tikki. If there was one soul in the entire world Marinette could rely on in any situation, it was Tikki- though Chat Noir was a very close second. Sometimes Tikki seemed to know her better than even she did.
Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the securely chained up bike and made her way up to the large, quirky-looking building that was the Philharmonie de Paris. She admired the building for its modern… uniqueness and on a sunny day Marinette might even have called it pretty, what with the way sunlight glinted off the silver surfaces. Unfortunately for her, it was a dull Thursday afternoon and the building looked grey and imposing in front of her.
Marinette put her hand out to open the door, hesitating for a short moment before carrying through. Tikki was right, no point doubting herself now. After all, the last time she did that all of Paris was almost destroyed by a 20ft, stone giant.
Once inside, Marinette made her way over to the reception desk in the foyer. There was an Asian man sat there, dark hair flopping over and obscuring his face. He had earphones in and was scrolling through something on his phone, head bopping to whatever music he must have been listening to. Marinette just stood there for a moment, not quite sure of what to do.
"Excuse me…" Marinette said- though it came out as more of a whisper- trying to get the man's attention. He didn't even bat an eye at her, instead grinning at something on his phone screen. She felt a spark of annoyance at the man for being so… well, she wasn't sure what, but it annoyed her.
"Excuse me," she tried again- trying to keep calm- but still to no avail. Marinette was in the process of walking round the side of the desk, fully intent on getting his attention by whatever means it took, when she slipped on a loose piece of paper that had been left on the floor.
No, nononononono! She thought, putting her hands out to try and break her fall as best she could. As it so happens, falling with a large weight on your back never ends well, especially if that weight is both fragile and expensive to replace. Fortunately for her, she didn't have to.
"Are you alright!" came a concerned voice from behind her. A concerned, male and surprisingly familiar voice.
The hand that had grabbed her shoulder to stop her from falling- Marinette couldn't help but notice how much strength it must take to hold her and her luggage up with one hand- pulled her back up onto her feet. She swivelled round to face her saviour but didn't look him in the eye; she already knew who he was.
"Thanks A-Adrien," she stammered. Marinette could feel her cheeks burning and so continued to look down at the two pairs of feet below her. Right now, there was nothing more interesting to her than comparing her hand-embroidered Pink flats to genuine Gabriel brand blue converse; she was a designer after all. It made perfect sense!
"Marinette! I didn't expect to see you here!" Her stomach did the strange combination of dropping and cartwheeling at the same time. Dropping because he clearly recognised her despite her- admittedly pitiful- attempts to hide her face; and cartwheeling because he actually sounded genuinely excited to see her there. All in all it left her feeling rather sick.
It took a second of awkward silence before Marinette realised that he was waiting for her to say something. "Y-yeah… I… I didn't expect to see me here either?"
What the hell, what was that! She felt her ears heat up as she flushed pink in embarrassment.
She then blushed even more when he laughed, highly glad that her hair had fallen over her ears since they were sure to be bright red. What made matters worse was that Adrien's laugh was so innocent and hearty and so not condescending, he genuinely thought that her mistake had been on purpose to be funny. And though it was highly tempting to lift her head and get a better look at his face- she loved it when he laughed- Marinette kept her gaze focused downwards.
His laugh died quickly, which only made it all the more tempting to look up and see what had made Adrien suddenly go so quiet.
"Mari," he used her nickname and sounded concerned, the butterflies in her stomach felt like they were undergoing mitosis. "Are you sure you're okay?" Was he trying to kill her? There was no way she couldn't look up at him when he talked to her with such genuine care in his voice! Oh how the world must love to see her being mentally tortured!
She timidly looked up at him and immediately decided she disliked how worry looked on his face, especially since it was unwarranted. There was something just not right about the way he frowned and drew his eyebrows together whilst still looking at her as if she mattered.
"I'm fine, just peachy!" Marinette stated, attempting a smile. Adrien's features relaxed slightly but there was still a tightness to his expression that told her he hadn't quite been convinced.
A slightly uncomfortable silence spread between the two and Marinette had to fight the urge to look down at the floor again- if she was up now then she was staying up, no backing out of this one! Adrien coughed and, looking a bit awkward himself, tried to re-spark the conversation.
"Sooo… I guess you're here for the junior orchestra then aren't you. Unless of course, that's something else other than a cello that you're carrying?"
Come on Mari, try and actually carry the conversation this time!
"Yep," no Marinette, you're going to have to say more than that.
"I-I mean… well, I'm just starting today cos' they were looking for new members a-and my teacher recommended me s-so… yeah…" she cringed slightly as her sentence died but hey, at least it was better than just 'yep'.
"That's great! If you follow me down here, I can show you to our rehearsal room!" he sounded so happy. Marinette didn't often see him this happy, she wondered if it was this place or if it was her that was making him so full of joy right now.
"Errm…" Marinette and Adrien both swivelled their heads in tandem to look at the reception desk where the receptionist was sat, one earphone out and looking slightly confused. Marinette tried her best not to blush again, how long had he been listening?
"Do either of you two need anything… there are some forms for new junior orchestra members so…"
"It's fine, I've already got them!" Marinette told him, pointing to the case on her back where they were being kept.
"Right… you can go on in then," he nodded his head and turned his attention back to his phone, sticking his earphone in his ear again.
"Okay then, if you'll follow me, then we're just down here," Adrien said to her, inclining his head towards a corridor just behind him. She followed him down, gazing around at the strange architecture. It really wasn't her style but it was still somewhat satisfying to look at.
A comfortable silence grew between them which lent Marinette some confidence. At least enough to ask a question that had been nagging at her for the past few minutes.
"So then, when did you join?"
"A couple of months ago," he answered simply, glancing back at her for a second.
That made sense. Marinette had stopped keeping track of Adrien about seven weeks into being Ladybug, just after the incident with Numeric. Firstly, she barely even had the time anymore and secondly, it was getting way too creepy anyway. Most of the pictures were put in storage and the huge timetable? Generously donated to Alya's New Year bonfire party.
"What's it like then, playing the piano for such a huge group of people?" she could practically hear Alya congratulating her for not stuttering, she was on fire today!
Adrien stopped by a door and then burst out laughing. Marinette shrank back into herself, so much for being on fire.
"Sorry, sorry…" he said, trying to calm himself again, "it's just that I-I don't p-pfft…"
And just like that he was laughing again.
"Just follow me in here, you'll see," he said between bursts of laughter as he opened up the door next to him.
Marinette followed him inside and was awed by what she was presented with. There were bags and coats dumped along the edges of the walls along with empty instrument cases. A couple of girls were crouched by a pile of things, chatting whilst they applied rosin to their horsehair bows. There were a couple of doors around the edge as well- one was open and through it Marinette could see stacks of chairs and music stands- but no windows. In one corner there was an ivory grand piano, with a pile of red folders next to it. The majority of the floor space though, was taken up by a semi-circle of chairs and music stands. Dotted amongst these were teenagers, all with a variety of instruments and the sound they were making…
"I apologise for the utter racket in here but trust me, it's going to get even worse when everyone else arrives," Adrien explained as he walked over to the room that held the chairs and music stands.
"How c-come there's so few p-people here then?" Marinette let her eyes travel around the people in the room as they walked. Seven, eight, nine…
"You do realise you're early, right? Rehearsal doesn't actually start for a good twenty minutes yet!" Adrien replied, and though she couldn't see his face, Marinette could tell he was smiling.
"Twenty!"
"Yup, twenty,"
She cringed. She had been so worried about getting there on time; she had in fact completely ignored what time it actually was. To think she could have gotten something to eat at home rather than dropping off her school bag, picking up her cello and bike lock and going.
They entered into the room and Adrien knelt down by a small pile of bags that Marinette assumed were his.
"Most people leave all their stuff around the walls in there, as you saw," he began as he rummaged around with his things, "but it gets a bit crowded and things have been known to get broken so I suggest you leave your stuff in here with mine... Here we go!"
Marinette slowly lowered her case off her shoulders to lean against the wall as Adrien produced something long and silver from his bags.
"Now this is the instrument I play here, you might notice that it's a bit smaller than a piano," he finished slotting in the head joint and held it out to her, a flute. Up close, Marinette could see that there were small engravings of cats winding around the head of the instrument. The detailing was so delicate; it made her wonder how much skill it must take to do something like that.
"Cute," she muttered under her breath.
"Cute?" Marinette looked up at the slightly confused look on his face. Oops, she hadn't meant for him to hear that.
"Oh! You mean the cats? Yeah, I guess you could call them that…" he trailed off and Marinette could have sworn for a second that she saw him glance back at his bags. Only a second though, then his eyes were back on her and she couldn't even be sure he had looked back in the first place because a second is far too short to be sure of anything.
He smiled at her before turning to gently place his flute atop a stack of chairs next to him. This gave her apt time to try and stifle her growing blush since balancing a flute on a chair is harder than it really should be. He eventually took off the head joint again and placed it down safely in two parts before turning back to her- her cheeks now cool enough for her satisfaction- with the same stunning grin on his face but a slight glint of mischief in his eyes.
"So then, shall we?" he said, gesturing to her cello case with both arms. Trying to shake off the strange sense of déjà vu that had suddenly overcome her, Marinette nodded.
͠ɣ ҉ ɣ ͠
How they managed it was beyond them both. It turned out that taking a cello out of its case in a small storage cupboard was not as easy as they might have hoped. It involved no small amount of stumbling around, murmured apologies and- on Marinette's side- a great amount of blushing at the close contact that ensued. Eventually though, they managed to get it out and it was now safely propped against a chair that Adrien had assured her was her own, even if it did take a good five minutes and the approval of another cellist to completely assure her.
"It's a nice colour," Adrien mentioned, effectively breaking the silence that had grown between them.
"It's rosewood," Marinette replied simply. She was very proud of her instrument; it spent most of its life stuck up at the end of her room by her chaise, on full display to everyone who entered her room. In fact, it struck her as odd for a second that Adrien hadn't remembered it from that one time when he visited to practise for the gaming tournament; but then she remembered that it had been in for a repair that day after two of the tuning pegs had literally fallen off.
In the time that it had taken them to complete their task, many more people had arrived and the room was starting to get rather crowded. Adrien had already moved his flute to his chair so they were both more or less ready.
"So then… how long do we have now?" Marinette inquired. She was starting to get more anxious as the room filled, her earlier doubts returning to plague her mind again. What if it turned out she wasn't good enough and they sent her away? What if she couldn't pick up the music quickly enough? What if-
"About five minutes now. Wait, music!" Adrien suddenly ran off towards the front of the room and, not wanting to be left behind with a bunch of people she could tell were judging her every move, Marinette followed in a fast walk.
She trailed him all the way to the grand piano where he began rifling through the piles of folders beside it. Marinette just stood there behind him, unsure of what to do, until Adrien emerged from the pile with a, significantly full-looking, folder tucked under one arm. Marinette could just about see the writing on the side which simply stated second flute.
"Is the cello music in there too then?" Marinette asked him, making a vague gesture towards the pile behind him.
"Oh, no sorry. The folder that has the cello music in seems to have already been taken"
"I see," she said, dragging out the see much longer than necessary as she considered what she might say next. "So is that yours then?" Marinette pointed to the folder he was carrying. Something seemed strange to her. She never would have pegged Adrien as being a second flute rather than a first; he was good at literally everything he did, why would anyone have put him as a second flute?
The Alya voice inside her head chose this moment to berate Marinette in her usual style.
Mari! Seriously girl, what have I told you about putting Adrien on a pedestal? You're never going to get anywhere with him if you don't treat him like a normal person!
"Oh no, I'm just taking this for the second flutes because no one's gotten it yet. I play first but the folder is already there so…" Adrien made a little shrugging gesture with his shoulders and started to walk away again.
I knew it! Marinette thought as she followed him again, resisting the urge to do a small victory fist pump.
Her Alya voice just grumbled.
They stopped at the front row of seats in the semi-circle where Adrien passed on the second flute folder to a younger girl with a quick "here you go" and a smile. He went to sit in his own seat before seeming to hesitate and turning round to look at Marinette, one hand rising behind him to rub at his neck.
"Well, you should probably go and join the other cellists now… we're about to start and-"
Marinette felt her expression fall. She had thought that maybe she was starting to get closer and more comfortable with Adrien but of course not. No, she was just being the clingy new girl and she was making him uncomfortable like always and he was simply trying his best not to be rude because he was just a nice person in that way.
"- n-not that I don't want you here or anything! I-it's just that... you see… oh God, I'm really messing this up right now," Adrien sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Okay… we're starting soon so you should probably join the other cellists and have a look at the music first, I'll see you again afterwards? … I think I said that right?" Adrien looked at her pleadingly. Okay so maybe he didn't see her as the clingy new girl but that still didn't excuse her following him arou- Oh SHUT UP ALYA! Pedestal=bad, I know OKAY!
"You said it p-perfectly," she praised him, smiling sweetly, her face betraying no traces of the internal battle between Marinette and Mari-Alya. They stood facing each other in silence for a few seconds, the awkwardness growing between them like a fungus on steroids.
Marinette was the one to break eye-contact when she suddenly turned around and made her way straight to the cello/ double bass section opposite the first and second violins, without looking back once. At least, the decision would have seemed sudden to Adrien but it had actually been the moment Marinette realised that she couldn't hold back her blush any longer. It surprised her- now that she was making the journey herself- how far she had to walk from the flute section near the front to her seat at the back of the cellos. She could see that there weren't that many cellos (especially not compared with the number of violins) but they needed so much space per instrument that the section seemed much larger than it was.
She noticed, as she went to sit down, that there was a harp behind the violins but no harpist. It was possible that they hadn't arrived yet but then again, they were literally on the brink of starting practice so whoever was playing the harp, was really cutting it fine. She should know, she was always "cutting it fine" according to her teachers, but at least she had a reason! Even if they couldn't know what said reason was.
Marinette offered a small smile and a very quiet- and most likely inaudible- "thank you," to the girl sat next to her as she placed a small wad of sheet music onto the stand between them. The girl gave her a one handed thumbs up, since her other hand held both bow and cello neck, and mouthed "Anytime," before turning to the music and starting to practise.
Marinette lifted her bow up off her chair and sat down. Carefully picking up her cello- she was glad to see that it hadn't been knocked over- she began to study the notes in front of her. The first sheet didn't seem too hard as she glanced through it… until she looked at the key signature.
Her stomach fell at the four flats lying on the lines and all of a sudden the piece looked much harder. F minor or A major, she really didn't care, it was still four flats!
Marinette took a moment to collect herself and then began to draw her bow across the cello strings in accordance to the notes in front of her, fingers switching between positions along the neck of her instrument. Her playing was bitty and sounded awful but it didn't matter, she had always been bad at sight reading but at least with everyone around her also making an absolute racket so no one would be able to hear her.
"You're out of tune, you know."
Marinette stopped playing and looked to the girl next to her, the one who had so kindly set out her music for her. Had she just spoken?
"P-pardon?" she spluttered out, having decided that the girl did actually speak. Her reaction was a little delayed though, to the clear amusement of the girl- though to her credit, she did seem to be trying to hide it.
"Well, technically, you're probably not out of tune. However, the piano in here is a bit flat for some reason so we all have to be as well. I've already tuned mine so do you want to tune off me?" the girl smiled as she made her offer, deep brown eyes sparkling.
Marinette was stunned by this girl's hospitality towards her. She replied with what she hoped to be a polite "yes, thank you," but she really could have said anything and not realised at this point.
The girl got a hold of her own instrument anyway and her smile didn't falter so Marinette took that as a sign that she had said what she had intended to- or something along the same lines at least. The girl drew her bow slowly across the strings, a solid A ringing out from the instrument. Or- at least- a slightly flat A.
Marinette picked up her own instrument and joined in, twiddling with the tuning pegs until her A sang as one with the other cellist's as well as her C D and G. It was hard to hear the beauty with which the two notes aligned over all the noise around them though.
"Thank you so, so much!" Marinette gushed, leaning her bow up against the side of her chair.
"No problem, I'm always happy to help! I'm Clarice, by the way, 17 years old and grade 7 Cello. I'm that odd person who knows everyone and what they play, and you are?" Marinette was slightly taken aback by how forward this girl, Clarice, seemed. Then again, it reminded her a bit of Alya too so she smiled and answered.
"Marinette, 15 and I took my grade 6 exam last week. I'm the new girl who doesn't know anyone," she gave a sheepish look to the older girl and shrugged her shoulders slightly. Clarice looked confused, long chestnut hair falling over her shoulder when she tilted her head.
"Are you sure you don't know anyone, because you seemed to know Adrien pretty well, you two were chatting like old friends."
"Oh, right," Marinette had forgotten about Adrien. She looked over to where he was sat, concentrating on his music as he practised.
"I-I know him from school. I didn't expect to see him here though, it was kind of a nice surprise," Marinette's eyes glazed over as she sank into a day dream world filled with blonde hair that felt like silk and green eyes that looked like spring itself.
She missed the smirk that crept onto Clarice's face.
"You fan-" but Clarice never got to finish what she was about to say. An old man with gray hair and a dark, wizened face walked through the door, shutting it behind him, and the entire room fell silent. He carried with him a small, tattered, brown leather briefcase which he set down beside the conductor's stand at the head of the orchestra. A few people quickly hurried to their seats, whispered apologies cutting through the silence.
The man waited for everyone to seat themselves and then began to speak.
"Good afternoon everyone, it's nice to see so many of you here today especially since our Tuesday rehearsal was… interrupted by that Akuma attack. Now, I think we should start today with…" he stopped suddenly, looking over to the side of the room behind the violins.
Marinette craned her neck to look over there, only to see that the harp she had noticed earlier was still devoid of a harpist. They must be sick, I hope they'll be okay she thought to herself, before turning back to face the front.
The old man sighed in a dejected manner, rubbing his temple. It struck Marinette as odd that he would react in this way and she frowned. Shouldn't he be concerned if there was something amiss with one of them?
"Anyway, we'll start with Danse Macabre," a groan arose from the orchestra, loudest from the large violin section. Marinette felt a knot of foreboding settle in her stomach.
"I know it's hard, but that's why we need to keep practising it and you all know that. I do tell you at least once a week after all."
The rustling noise of people sorting out their sheet music echoed around the room. Clarice leaned over to move the sheet music on their stand, bringing the right pages to the front and laying them out in order. All four of them. The knot in her stomach tightened as she realised she had forgotten to sight read the rest of her music beforehand.
A sharp rapping brought her attention back to the front of the room. The man- who she had sussed by now to be the conductor- held a baton in his right hand which he was tapping on the edge of his stand that was now adorned with a sizable wad of sheet music. Marinette could only assume he had procured these items from his briefcase, though she couldn't see it from where she sat.
"We will begin on the count of four, make sure-"
Clarice nudged Marinette's arm whispering, "Don't play now, just listen to me and follow the music."
Marinette nodded but Clarice had already turned back to their music, her bow held out of the way as she prepared to pluck the strings.
"-three, four," the pianist began playing, the violins readied themselves and then-
BANG!
The door to the room was flung open, hitting the wall and making such an awful sound that one of the clarinettists dropped their instrument. Every head turned towards the doorway except that of the conductor who simply stared patiently at the orchestra as if the rehearsal had not just been violently interrupted.
Marinette watched with growing dismay as a girl flounced in, blonde ponytail swinging behind her. She seemed completely ignorant of the fact that she was seven minutes late, that or she just didn't care. Marinette was willing to bet on the latter.
"You don't need to worry Mr Mayeux; I'm alright, Daddy just needed to sort out something with me. I'm here now though!"
A couple of grumbles passed through the gathered youngsters as she moved to flounce round to the other side of the semi-circle. She seemed oblivious about everything until she noticed Marinette.
Ice blue met periwinkle and Marinette watched her features distort into a sneer of disgust.
She was not surprised. After all, when did Chloé Bourgeois ever look at her any differently... Marinette-her, at least.
Chloé looked as if she were about to say something, her mouth opening. Instead though, she simply huffed and looked away, carrying on her way only to seat herself haughtily behind the harp.
Marinette turned away from the girl opposite her, rolling her eyes. It wasn't possible, was it? That she could just find one place to be, with Adrien, that Chloé would not dominate. Her Ladybug luck really was isolated to when she was in costume, it seemed.
Monsieur Mayeux gave a small cough, directing attention back to himself.
"Alright then, from the start. One, two, three-"