Hello all! This lovely au is based off of gittana's Musicians AU on Tumblr. GO CHECK HER OUT.
Everyone has a voice.
Marinette laid sprawled across the floor on her stomach, her stockinged feet dangling in the air. Her left big toe caught a hole in the fishnets of her right leg, tearing it a little wider, but that did not halt her concentration. With her tongue poking out of her mouth, she frantically wrote in the little notebook on the floor, trying to copy all the lyrics down before they fled her mind. A lock of blue hair fell prey to gravity, falling over her shoulder and into her eyes, to be quickly blown away by a slightly annoyed breath. Her eyes glanced quickly to the ceiling as she searched for the correct word to fill the void in the lyrics, a sparkle dancing across them as the right one came to mind. She became glued to her notebook once again, capturing those elusive, but powerful, lyrics. Marinette had a story to tell, a voice to be heard.
But music, music has the ability to allow everyone to be heard.
Notes danced through her head, and she switched to the loose, music staff-lined paper, her pencil scratching desperately. Her left hand wandered to the electric keyboard that sat in front of her on the ground, finding their home in the keys. She fumbled around, playing with the notes and putting them into patterns and rhythms. Soon, a soaring melody was accompanied by a catchy bassline, and both were recorded on the paper. The lyrics were given life, and the proper emotions were breathed into them. Both were recorded onto the paper, her lower lip caught in her teeth. She smirked as she added a crunchy dissonance to the chord progression to emphasize the lyrics and give the resolution such a sweeter feeling.
It can portray an emotion, a thought, a feeling, without any words.
This was her passion, her life. Marinette had found her place in the music and never wanted to leave. Here, she could portray her feelings. Here, she could always be heard, even when she could not find the right words. Here was home. Whenever Marinette's words would fail, her music could speak, and speak in volumes.
But today, the words were coming to her mind and flying across the paper. The music was dancing through her ears, the melody soaring through her lips. She could hear the way it would all come together when the crew got a hold of it. The bassline was catchy, but interesting, as she had thrown in a few unanticipated chords as usual. The beat she could hear would bring in the crowds and set the foundation. The melody and countering harmony danced together, but stood separate.
Or it can be the perfect foundation for the words that are screaming to be heard.
And the words, they told a story. They weaved a picture of a lost girl, fighting her way through life. Her heart had been empty; she had been deserted. Her heart was protected and she was scared of being broken again. Yet, he had still managed to break down her walls. He became her partner in crime and her best friend.
This is their story.
xxxxx
Marinette took a deep breath in, allowing the air to fill her, and then released it in a controlled huff. No matter how many times she performed, the stage-jitters never seemed to go away.
These jitters were particularly bad. After all, the AKs were just coming back after an extended break. Usually, they try to do a performance every couple of weeks, but it had been over four months since they last performed. Her muse had been especially quiet, and everything she wrote during those four months was pining garbage.
She hated sounding desperate. But that's what happens when her heart gets ripped out and broken.
The thick makeup that Juleka had applied around her eyes as a sort of 'mask' almost felt foreign, even though it was what she always wore to perform. Marinette wanted to rub at it, but was afraid to smudge the masterpiece. Juleka had done an especially good job, the red makeup dark around her eyes. It almost ombred out from the thick black eyeliner around her eyes, getting gradually lighter red. The maroon faded to scarlet, faded to an almost redder-pink. It was smudged around the outer edge, giving an appearance that it melted into her skin. A couple drop-like tendrils extended down, as though falling prey to gravity.
Marinette yanked up her thigh-high stockings in a rather unladylike manner. She smoothed her black shorts and gave a tug on her 'Ladybug' denim vest that hung over a black-spotted red crop top. Her hair was pulled back into two low pigtails, a tribute to the design she drew in middle school, when she dreamed up Ladybug.
Looking in the mirror, she tried to flash a smile, to woo the crowd that would gather, but her heart wasn't in it. It had been four months of heartbreak and grief, and it was hard for her to smile. Luckily, she had her friends and her music. She drown herself in school work and the tons of concerts for her school ensembles. Marinette had made it through finals, and then gave herself a week to pull herself together. The mourning process involved a trip back to her parents and sleeping in her childhood bed. After a week of helping at their family bakery in the morning, and writing music at night, she felt like a new woman. Getting antsy for her friends and to hear her music played, she returned to the house she shared with some of the girls and immediately called a band rehearsal. The band was so thrilled that she was starting to finally act like her old self.
Alya even went as far as to say that she was so happy that Marinette was finally back to the normal self she was before she dated that asshat.
Dating someone like that does tend to change a person.
But Marinette was free of that relationship. There was still some residual feelings, but it was more for the guy that he pretended to be, than the guy he was; he was truly a jerk and she wanted nothing to do with him. She did not miss the way he talked down on her, or finding out he cheated on her when he dumped her. She did not miss the competitive nature of their relationship because they were both in school for music, and he was at the most prestigious school in the area, where she didn't get accepted. She didn't miss how he would comment on girls appearances and suggest plastic surgery for them; even though his parents where plastic surgeons, he had no right to define beauty.
It hurt that she was dumped, and hurt more that she was dumped for another girl, but she was better now that it was over.
And that's what this concert was. It was her final goodbye to that asshole, her imaginary middle finger to him.
Though, he would never know that Ladybug was singing about him, because Marinette never disclosed her identity to him. She found it ironic that Paris's most popular singer was dumped because she 'wasn't good enough at music.'
Jackass was all about prestige, not true talent.
The corner of her lips raised in a half-smirk. She would still have her satisfaction, even if he wouldn't ever know.
Marinette gave one last look in the mirror, just as Nino called for her in her earpiece, which served as a monitor for the music and a way to talk to each other across their 'stage.'
Tonight, they were out in the alley behind the night club that both she and Nino worked for, on a makeshift stage. There were quite a few cuss words and some suggestive themes in their music that night, so choosing a more 'grown up' venue at a later time of night was a necessity. Nino had arranged it all with his cousin, who owned the club, and knew that he was the AK's legendary DJ, the 'Bubbler'.
Marinette moved toward the door, opening it up to the loud sound of what Nino referred to as the 'call song,' because it would gather a crowd. He was playing one of his originals, a silly little song with an intense beat.
But fuck that little mouse
'Cause I'm an albatraoz
Marinette laughed at the silly lyrics, the rough dubstep rushing over her and coursing through her veins. Bright lights danced over the dark stage, sometimes illuminating Nino in his Bubbler costume. She couldn't see much of the crowd from her position, but she could hear people dancing and shouting. By now, she was sure he had gathered a large crowd, which was good because the AK's blog had not given much of a hint as to where this concert would be. Max, the group's resident techy and known as the 'Gamer,' would record it and upload it online, but the 'venue,' if it could be called that, was rather small.
She could hear Nino counting down in her ear, and Max responding with his status. Nino's song cut off abruptly, and the dancing lights narrowed down to one overhead, white beam down the center of the stage. She could hear the opening chords of the song, just played by Nino's synthesizer.
Marinette walked onto the pitch black stage, standing in the center. She put her head down, collecting herself for a moment in the waves of the music. A white light suddenly switched on, illuminating her right as she pulled her head up and took a deep breath.
Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face
Tell me that you love me even if it's fake
Cause I don't fucking care at all
Marinette stared down the crowd, luckily not being able to see anything because of the stage light. She allowed the persona of Ladybug to wash over her, channeling her frustrations and sorrow.
You been out all night, I don't know where you been
You slurring all your words, not making any sense
But I don't fucking care at all
She still stood frozen, the waves of the synthesizer washing over her. She could hear the rest of the band quietly and quickly setting up behind her.
Cause I have hella feelings for you
I act like I don't fucking care - like they ain't even there
With the next line, she moved her right hand and began to snap to the beat. Her right hip popped out a little and moved to the rhythm.
Cause I have hella feelings for you
I act like I don't fucking care, cause I'm so fucking scared
I'm only a fool for you - and maybe you're too good for me
I'm only a fool for you
But I don't fucking care at all
Marinette drew out the last note, putting her soul into it. The beat dropped around her and she could hear the rest of the band jump in. The crowd gasped as the lights flared on, illuminating the group that seemed to appear on the stage. She could hear Ivan, as his persona 'Stoneheart' featuring grey makeup, charcoal ripped jeans, and a black tee-shirt, plugging away on rhythm guitar. Lila, known as 'Volpina,' adjusted the fox ears perched on her head before jumping into playing harmonies to Nino's keyboard melody on her guitar. Juleka was playing a steady simple beat on the drum set, her persona as 'Reflekta' complete with a full face of white makeup and pink around her eyes, and a fun headdress.
Marinette turned to smile at them all, bouncing her head slightly to the beat. They sounded really good, and she knew they were all excited to play together again after the long break. She turned back to the crowd and took a breath in, ready to begin the next verse.
Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face
Tell me that you love me even if it's fake
Cause I don't fucking care at all
Nino took control again on his keyboard and mixing board, the music turning very electronic-sounding. The lights snapped down once more, a blue light illuminating her in the center of the stage, as well as the two figures emerging from each side. Rose, under the persona of 'Princess Fragrance,' danced onto the stage from Marinette's right, her movements graceful and long. With every ballet extension, her black skirt swished around her hips. The blue light reflected off her black 'mask,' made of makeup, with swirls around the edges. Her pink hair, which Marinette knew would wash out by her next shower, was pulled up into a tight bun.
You've been out all night; I don't know where you been
You slurring all your words, not making any sense
But I don't fucking care at all
On her left, Mylene was dancing to the harsh beat, doing a more hip-hop style dance, her body popping to the beats. Her persona as the 'Horrificator' was complete by a full face of pink, fade to purple, makeup. Her cornrows were pulled back by a purple bandana, and she wore pink hip-hop pants and a tight purple tank top, with a darker purple jacket over.
Cause I have hella feelings for you
I act like I don't fucking care; like they ain't even there
Cause I have hella feelings for you
I act like I don't fucking care, cause I'm so fucking scared
The two girls kept dancing toward Marinette, their movements contrasting, but working in time with the music. Rose danced a lyrical style to Marinette's voice, where Mylene followed the beat laid down by Nino and Juleka.
I'm only a fool for you
And maybe you're too good for me
I'm only a fool for you
But I don't fucking care at all
The music died out to be replaced with a recording from Nino. The sound of a lonely melody rang through the speakers with a record-like fuzzy quality reminiscent of older times. Everyone was frozen around her, and Marinette took a deep breath to start the next song.
Believe me, I could live without you but I really don't want to
Believe me, I could love without you but I really don't need to
Marinette watched as 'Princess Fragrance' and the 'Horrificator' slipped off stage. The lights came on toward the front of stage and illuminated the crowd a little. She looked out and could see Nathaniel at the end of the alleyway, the ends of his red hair dyed purple and a beret perched on top. His persona, 'Evillustrator,' fit his job as artist; during their shows, he would leave their symbol and name somewhere. This time, it was a graffiti style on the brick wall.
'Cause leavin' is the hardest thing to do
But being left is hard, oh yes, it's true
Juleka began clapping her drumsticks together at a fast pace, her foot pounding on the bass drum. Two new figures emerged from the wings, their arms high over their heads, clapping. Alix, under her persona 'Timebreaker,' did a front handspring across the stage, her black leggings hugging the curves of her body. She wore lime green shorts over, and a black tank top completed the look. Sometimes, when she wore her roller blades for a show, her head would be covered in a motorcycle style helmet, but tonight, she had a simple black mask painted over her eyes. Kim, jumped up and did a full front flip, the black boots hitting the stage with a thud. His red tee-shirt was tight across his chest and hung over black, ripped jeans. His look was complete by a red mask around his eyes. Marinette always chuckled at his name, 'Dark Cupid,' because Alya had given it to him after he was harshly rejected by a violinist from a different school he had met at one of their concerts.
But you're coming back
How do I get back to you, to you, to you?
I cannot get back to you
The beat dropped and Marinette stepped back to let the two acrobats take the front of the stage. Their tricks were punctuated by flashing lights and the dubstep blaring through the speakers.
Back to, get back to you
During the end of the break, Alya, her best friend, strutted on stage, her black jeans hugging her hips and the black heeled ankle boots giving her ass a nice lift. The black, painted-on mask made her brown eyes stand out. Her persona, 'Lady Wifi,' always made Marinette chuckle, as she was the one who ran the AKs blog, announced their next concerts, and posted videos. She also ran the Ladyblog, a popular blog that discussed the AKs newest songs and deciphered the concert locations, but as her own civilian self. A microphone was clutched in her hand, and as the next verse began, she began to harmonize with Marinette.
Leavin' is the hardest thing to do
But being left is hard, oh yes, it's true
But you're coming back
How do I get back to you, to you, to you?
Having Alya on stage with her, gave her a boost of confidence. She could and would get over that asshole. This was her goodbye, and with her friends surrounding her, she would move on.
The recording of the beginning melody came back through the speakers and died out. A new melody started with Nino playing a chord on the synth and Juleka on the drums. Alya's voice rang out over the simple music.
Ooh, Ahh, Ooh, Ahh
Marinette began singing, staring out into the crowd.
If you weren't born with it you can buy a couple ornaments
Just be sure to read the warning, kids, 'cause pretty soon you'll be bored of it,
Ha-ha
Alya chimed in, her hips moving in motion with the music.
Sexual, hey girl if you wanna feel sexual
You can always call up a professional; they stick pins in you like a vegetable
Ha-haa
This girls sang together, Marinette's voice singing the melody and Alya harmonizing over her.
Kids forever, kids forever; baby soft skin turns into leather
Don't be dramatic, it's only some plastic; no one will love you if you're unattractive
As the chorus started, the girls sang together, prancing around the stage. This song really struck a chord with Marinette, because the asshat would make dumb comments about how he could get her discounted plastic surgery and say what he wanted to fix about her.
Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me, is it true that pain is beauty?
Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better?
Oh Mr. Potato Head, tell me: How did you afford her surgery?
Do you swear you'll stay forever? Even if her face don't stay together
Even if her face don't stay together
The band was jamming to the slow beat behind her. They were missing a bass player, but Nino did a good job plucking out the part on his keyboard.
Alya started the next verse:
If you want a little more confidence; Potatoes turn to french fries, yeah it's common sense
All you need's a couple more condiments, and a hundred thousand dollars for some compliments
Ha-haa
Marinette played off Alya's sexiness, her hips grinding to the slow beat as she approached the front of the stage and touched hands with the crowd reaching up to her.
It's such a waste, when little girls grow into their mother's face
But little girls are learning how to cut and paste, and pucker up their lips until they suffocate
Ha-haa
Marinette straightened back up and strutted to Alya, joining her in the hook before the chorus.
Kids forever, kids forever; baby soft skin turns into leather
Don't be dramatic, it's only some plastic; no one will love you if you're unattractive
Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me, is it true that pain is beauty?
Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better?
Oh Mr. Potato Head, tell me: How did you afford her surgery?
Do you swear you'll stay forever? Even if her face don't stay together
Stay forever, stay forever
Even if her face don't stay together
Stay forever, stay forever
Even if her face don't stay together
The band dropped out and the lights dimmed, leaving a spot of light in the center of the stage. Alya sang the intro from somewhere in the dark behind her, and then she sang by herself to the synth and Juleka's drums.
Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me, is it true that pain is beauty?
Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better?
Oh Mr. Potato Head, tell me: How did you afford her surgery?
Do you swear you'll stay forever? Even if her face don't stay together
The lights flashed back on, and Alya skipped forward to join her. The band played again, jamming out.
Stay forever, stay forever
Even if her face don't stay together
Stay forever, stay forever
Even if her face don't stay together
Stay forever, stay forever
Even if her face don't stay together
Stay forever, stay forever
Even if her face don't stay together
Both Ivan and Lila dropped out, taking their guitars and walking offstage. This left Juleka playing with Nino's synth, the intro coming back around again. This time, the two girls sang it together in the dimming light.
Ooh, Aah, Ooh, Aah
Marinette and Alya were left in the center of the stage, their hands clasped and raised. The lights went out, leaving them in a blackout.
Xxxxxx
Adrien followed the bouncing blonde head out of the rehearsal room, his cello rolling behind him. The halls were empty, as they should be during the second week of summer. Only the top string quartet would be working throughout the entire summer. A slight pressure in his head caused him to partly tune out what the others were saying. It had been a grueling rehearsal; they had not been able to agree on anything.
Chloe, the first violinist and self-appointed leader of the quartet had been adamant that a certain three bar phrase was supposed to have a specific bowing. Sabrina, the second violinist and Chloe's lackey, agreed with everything Chloe said. Dempsey, the violist, had taken a completely different stand, saying that the three measures needed a different style of phrasing, and Chloe's bowing wouldn't emphasize it enough. He was very firm in his belief, as he has the best viola teacher and was the eldest in the group. Adrien didn't really understand how being the eldest made him correct, but he did think that Dempsey's bowing sounded better for the phrase. Ever the peace keeper, he had them play it both ways to try and see which they liked better. This only caused a longer fight, and took up over thirty minutes of their two hour rehearsal.
The worst part was, it was still unresolved. Luckily, Chloe and Dempsey were willing to drop their argument outside the rehearsal room, with the threat of taking the phrase to their respective teachers. After all, they were the most elite group on campus; they couldn't be seen bickering like children outside of the private rehearsal space. Appearances had to be kept.
Chloe's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing the slight pressure in his head to a dull throb.
"Adri-kins, what do you think? Isn't she fabulous?" Her excited squeal was almost too much for his poor head. Sabrina, who was walking next to her, was nodding viciously.
"Isn't who fabulous," he muttered, pinching one eye shut.
"Weren't you listening?" She spun her head around, whipping her blonde ponytail, to give him a childish pout. "We were talking about the AK's performance last night! Ladybug did the greatest job ever. Her voice is so fantastic! Her newest songs were really good, though it does sound like she just went through a rough time or breakup or something. Here!"
She waved her phone in his face, a blurry video playing. He couldn't see much, as she kept moving her phone, but the music was awesome. As per usual.
Adrien was very familiar with Paris' most famous band, the AKs. After all, it was Chloe's favorite band. When he was home, he typically listened to the music he was working on for his cello solos, for the quartet, or for the symphony. Every moment was used to make him better; he would analyze the pieces constantly or be inspired by similar ones. But occasionally, he would pop in a pair of ear buds and listen to the up-and-coming band that everyone was raving about.
He too loved the singer's voice, and the originality of the band. The music always spoke to him and inspired him. The way the band drew from all sorts of styles of music interested him, and the chord structures were never boring, which was very rare for 'pop music.' He loved the messages in their lyrics and the originality of the music. Though their genre would be considered slightly 'alternative,' matching their punk appearance, he could tell that the musicians were very talented. The music seemed to pull from all genres and he could swear that someone in the band is classically trained. Some of the cadences came straight from the classics: Bach, Mozart, Hayden.
Dempsey snorted, "Of course you would think that."
Chloe glared at him, her eyes narrowing. "Me and the rest of Paris. Even the Ladyblog thinks so, and the Ladyblog is always right. Alya is the best at decoding their lyrics and figuring out where the next concert is!"
"You are all a bunch of fangirls over a stupid band. Who cares what happened; maybe she just wrote the music for the sake of the music. There doesn't need to be a reason, it just needs to sound good," Dempsey rolled his eyes at Chloe's outburst.
Chloe became offended, "Her music always has a purpose!"
Sabrina nodded in agreement, "Even Ladybug told the Ladyblog that her songs are like her diary; she writes what she feels."
"I think she is just making up shit so she can get famous."
"You're just jealous, Dempsey," Chloe quipped with a toss of her ponytail.
Sabrina interrupted the little spat, her voice echoing down the empty hallway, "Look, someone is hanging posters."
Chloe glared at the offender. "I don't know why; there is no one here but us and some of the staff." She turned to the tiny girl, "Sabrina, go get one. I want to know what it says."
Dempsey snorted and rolled his eyes. He adjusted the strap of his viola case over his shoulder.
Sabrina came scampering back, a paper clenched in her hand. "He said that there is a concert in the outside amphitheater across the street tomorrow! I think it's jazz, but it's definitely sponsored by the Music Department from PCC."
"Let me see that," Chloe barked, snatching the poster out of Sabrina's hand. Adrien watched as her eyes grew narrower as she read the details on the poster. "Why the hell is the Paris Community College Jazz band running during the summer? That can't be allowed – they get extra practice time then," she whined.
Adrien peered over her shoulder, "It looks like it's just a group of students sponsored by the PCC Music Department, not the actual Jazz Band. It's a free concert, so I highly doubt it's the whole band."
Dempsey rolled his eyes, "You're so quick to stand up for a band that has kicked the ACMC's Jazz Band's butt for the past three years. I don't know how they do it too; they are just a lowly Community College and we are the best Conservatory in the country, let alone in the top five in Europe."
Adrien shrugged, "I just appreciate good music. I might go – it would be good for me to learn more about playing Bass."
Chloe huffed, "You and that stupid String Bass. You should just stick to Cello; you are a freaking Cello performance major."
"That doesn't mean I can't learn other instruments, Chloe," He explained gently. "Honestly, the String Bass in a Jazz Band functions almost the same way a Cello does in the quartet. It's made me a lot better at predicting chord progressions and the structure of the music. Plus, I never improvise on Cello."
"It's still dumb," She shot back, as though that cleared everything up.
Adrien ignored Dempsey's annoying cackle.
Chloe glanced back down at the crinkled flyer in her hand. A sparkle began to form in her mind, and Adrien feared for what would come next. "I have a brilliant idea."
"Uh-oh," Dempsey whispered under his breath.
She glared at him pointedly. "We should go to the concert tomorrow night!"
"How is that brilliant, blondie?" Dempsey jabbed, crossing his arms.
"I wasn't finished, you peasant. We should go and sabotage the concert. You know, steal their music, or mess with the equipment. That way they would look super dumb!" She finished triumphantly.
Adrien felt his mouth fall open in shock. Chloe could be cruel at times, but this was almost abnormally cruel.
Sabrina smiled nervously. Adrien knew that she would go with Chloe regardless, but it was nice to see that she was still hesitant.
Dempsey rolled his eyes, "Sounds lame. Count me out." He stalked off, waving over his shoulder, "Later, losers."
"Well screw him anyway," Chloe grumbled. "Adri-kins, you will come, right?"
Adrien sighed. This was going to be a hard one to get out of. "I'll come, Chloe, but not to pull pranks on the PCC students. I want to see the concert for the music."
"But Adrien," she whined.
"No, Chloe. I can't be playing pranks. How do you think it would look to the public if the son of the owner and president of the esteemed Agreste Classical Music Conservatory was playing pranks on the PCC students?"
"Killjoy," Chloe grumbled, crossing her arms in annoyance.
Adrien pressed his fingers to his temples, "I'm sorry Chloe. I just can't. I'm gonna go practice for a bit." He began wheeling his Cello toward the practice rooms. "I'll see you two tomorrow, I guess. Bye Chloe, Sabrina."
Their goodbyes echoed in his ears as he walked down the empty halls.
Xxxxxx
Adrien ended up practicing String Bass for two hours, rather than Cello. He really should have been practicing his primary instrument, but this was the first week of Summer break; he could afford a little break from playing it. After all, in a few weeks, when his teacher was back from touring with the top string quartet in Europe, he would be picking out music for his upcoming Junior Recital next Spring.
He deserved the break.
String Bass and the jazz tunes he was working on did wonders for him as well. They were fun and made him super happy. He did love playing Cello, but sometimes it loses the fun when it was all you focused on. It was enough to drive someone crazy to be playing the same instrument for around six hours a day.
String Bass helped him break away from the monotony of Cello and helped him loosen up. After all, it is impossible to play tense. It also brought him closer to his mother. He played Cello because that's what all the Agreste males played; it had been a tradition for many years. His father and his father's father, and his father's grandfather, along with other ancestors, had been the top Cello players for forever.
But his mother played String Bass. He smiled as he recalled the story she used to tell him. She had met his father in the top Symphony at ACMC. He was first chair Cello, and she had fought to get to the top of the Basses, especially as a female in a male-dominated instrument. The teachers all mentioned his mother, and how she was the best String Bass player to ever walk the campus. She had something that the other students just could not seem to comprehend. Her performance always had such fantastic emotion; there were stories buried in the music that she revealed to the audience.
Adrien chuckled at the thought of a String Bass, the foundation of the symphony, being played as a melody instrument like that. Sure, there were solos for String Bass and many fantastic players had graced the earth throughout the years, but it was always used to set the tone, and lay the foundation. But his mother had been able to bring the hardest of professors to tears with her playing, cause the most serious conductors to laugh at her funky improvisation, and inspire young girls to cross the boundaries set by society.
He loved her for it and wished he could do the same with Cello. He picked up the String Bass a year and a half ago, half way through his freshman year, as an attempt to get closer to her. He kept hearing the professors saying how much he looked like her, with his blond hair and brilliant green eyes.
He hadn't seen her for about nine years.
His mother had disappeared from the Agreste mansion one morning when he was ten, and he had never heard from her again. His father had given him no explanation, but looking back, he realized how unhappy she was there.
When she had Adrien, his father had demanded that she give up playing Bass to raise him. She had been playing in the local Symphony and with a couple Jazz bands. Adrien knew that his mother loved him dearly and didn't blame him for having to stop playing, but Adrien still felt as though it was his fault. She began to play piano more avidly, teaching him about music from a young age. His father only listened to classical music and symphonies, but his mother had taught him all about every type of music.
Always remember there is music in everything, Adrien.
He could remember laying on the floor under the piano, listening to her play Chopin and transitioning seamlessly into one of the Jazz classics. They would sing popular forties hits together and listen to the love songs of the old troubadours of the Medieval Ages. Chants from the beautiful churches of Italy were compared with Mozart. Samba music from Brazil would teach him about rhythm, and the pictures painted by Debussy would contrast with the twelve-tone rows from the same era.
Music was music, and it always told a story. It was always present in society.
Adrien leaned his head against the cold music stand, emerging from his thoughts and memories. Now that he stopped playing, his arms ached from playing cello for their three hour rehearsal, and then practicing bass for two hours.
He sighed and stood up from his stool, taking his bass with him. He carefully put it away in his case, loosening the bow properly. Lost in his thoughts, he packed up his music and made some notes in his 'practice log' before exiting the practice room.
Adrien slowly walked down the hallway, hauling his bass behind him. He made his way to the room where all the large string instruments were stored, but stopped, staring curiously.
The guy who had been hanging posters for the jazz concert was hanging another one on the music bulletin board. He had a pair of super nice headphones over his red baseball cap, and was bobbing his head gently to the unheard music. Adrien walked up and placed a hand on his shoulder.
The guy jumped and turned to Adrien, slipping off his headphones. "Shit dude. You scared me!"
Adrien laughed, "I'm sorry man, I really didn't mean to."
He smiled, "It's cool. I'm Nino."
"Nice to meet you Nino," Adrien said, slipping his hand into Nino's for a firm handshake. "I'm Adrien."
Nino noticed the bass that sat behind him, "Nice, man. You play string bass?"
Adrien grinned, "Yeah! I play mainly for the Jazz Band here."
"That's so sick. You should come see our concert tomorrow night!" He said, handing him a poster. "A bunch of us from the PCC Jazz Band are jamming. I play piano and run the sound system. There are some sick musicians playing."
"I plan on being there!" Adrien chirped. "Though," he said, his face falling, "I should let you know that some of the other students from here plan on going and sabotaging the concert. Trashing music or screwing with the equipment."
"Thanks for letting me know, man." He shrugged, "We should be fine though."
"Okay, good. I'm going to try to keep them from doing damage, but I can't always control them."
Nino grinned, "All of the musicians are really good; they honestly could improvise the whole concert."
Adrien laughed, "Well good. I'm glad that the show could go on if my dumb peers screw things up."
"Thanks for warning me though! I'll let the others know so they can keep a look out, but we should be totally fine." Nino smirked, "You should come find me after the concert and I'll introduce you to everyone!"
Adrien got really excited, "Definitely! That would be so cool. I would love to meet more musicians, especially from a top Jazz program."
"And they would love to meet you, man."
"Well," Adrien said, glancing at his watch, "I should probably head home. I have to go ice my arms."
Nino laughed, "I feel that. My wrists kill me after practicing for too long. I'll see you tonight then, man!"
"Bye!" Adrien turned to walk to the vault, smiling.
Xxxxx
Marinette took a deep breath in, taking in the crowd sitting on blankets and folding chairs on the grass of the amphitheater. Even though she had just performed a couple nights before, as Ladybug, she was still slightly nervous to go on stage.
After all, singing and performing were her life. She didn't want to screw this up.
Xxxxxx
Songs:
IDFC - Blackbear
To Ü - Skrillex and Diplo, ft. Aluna George
Mrs. Potato Head - Melanie Martinez
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