Disclaimer: I don't own Miraculous at all. Not even a little bit.

Chapter Two

Inside the biggest and busiest fashion studio in the Capitol, televisions were all set to watch the Reapings as popular actors and models and tv show hosts were coming in for fittings. Even Penny Rolling, host for the Games was there. This year around, she was sporting purple hair, cut short and framed her heart shaped face. In all the years since the Games had begun, Panem had never found a better star to shine off both the tributes and the Capitol. Her way with words made her easy to be around, she was one of those people who anyone could click with. In the past two years, Penny had managed to garner the attention of sponsors to the most unlikely of contests in the Games during the interview process simply because the shyer tributes could speak more due to her encouragement.

And currently, the Host was trying to get one of the least spoken models of Agreste Fashion, son of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, Adrien, to give her an interview. Cameraman posted near her shoulder, Mrs. Rolling almost never seen without it, and a mic glued to her hand, she nearly stood at Adrien's impressive height, with her dauntingly tall heels "Mr. Agreste, come now, it wouldn't even have to discuss your family's business. Panem just wants to get to know you, the boy behind the mask of the model."

Vincent, Adrien's stylist, was crouched at his pant leg, adjusting the length of a set of white pants that were suppose to match to his father's clothing design for the opening ceremony of the Games. The photographer turned stylist groaned, cutting off the tall, blond model before he could provide yet another excuse not to be interviewed by the purple haired tv anchor "The only thing the people of Panem need to know is how exhausted his wardrobe designer, aka me, is from having to readjust his clothing every other week!"

The supermodel had the decency to blush, no doubt the camera toggled over Penny's shoulder had captured the flush of his cheeks "I'm sorry Vincent. I've just been growing a few inches over the past few months."

Finished with his work, the overworked stylist leaned back on his haunches, hands resting on his hips and looking up to the just under six foot tall Adrien Agreste "Just a few inches?! Bah! Try over six inches in just as many months!" He stood, dusting off his knees "You're almost as tall as your father. Why did your mother have to go give you all these good looks if your father was just going to throw in his two cents with his height? Oh, mon cheri, I remember when your head barely reached my neck. Now look, the situation has almost flopped!" Vincent drew his hand up, showing a line from his head to Adrien's shaved chin.

"The actual growing part of growing up can be really hard." Penny quipped, turning her eyes to the blond of the group "Care to share a few comments with our viewers on the subject?"

His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, finding comfort in the short blond hairs at the nape of his shaved hair "Just that growing pains aren't the best. Just goes to show everyone that models have to deal with awkward stages of life too." He chuckled lightly, the kind he had to practice to fake a smile on set. Everyone thought it was convincing enough in pictures, but it was easier to see in person that he wasn't born an actor by any means.

Penny reached out to his dimpled cheek, pinching it softly "You Adrien are certainly an example of an awkward teen. You're a sweetheart, but not really like any of the other models that work for Agreste Fashion. They say you don't really have any friends amongst your colleagues. Is that true?"

He knew he was getting sucked into the purple talk show host. It was hard not to. He tried keeping it brief, "It's hard keeping or making any friends in this industry. Plus, with my schedule, I hardly have time to breath let alone go to an afterparty." There was that chuckle again, well practiced.

His life was scheduled from the moment he had been born. Between school, homework, piano, fencing, Mandarin, modelling, and the basic necessities to continue living, Adrien's social life was nearly nonexistent, and even talking with someone like Penny Rolling, who was kind and could make up most of a conversation by herself, was hard. He could already feel the swell of anxiety creeping up acidly from his stomach and coiling around his chest uncomfortably.

As luck would have it, or it was more likely Nathalie's impeccable scheduling, she and his father stepped into the floor room, eagle like eyes looking for his son, and it was easy to find that golden hair just about anywhere. Gabriel, wearing his own brand of clothing, crossed the room, closing the front button on the suit of his white jacket, trimmed in blue jewels and golden ends. Quickly, with Vincent's help, Adrien put on his suit's jacket, the arm length just fitted to him less than an hour ago. Gabriel stopped in front of his son. He tightened his blue tie for the younger man "You're going to be late." He said curtly as he adjusted the tie.

His green eyes stayed staring at the bridge of his father's nose, as he had been trained for years to do "Sorry father. Vincent said I grew another inch or so and it needed an adjustment, so I came here." He gestured to the high heeled woman he had just been speaking with "And Mrs. Rolling happen to be in picking up one of the custom made outfits she ordered. We were just chatting."

His father hummed lowly in the back of his throat. He bowed his head slightly to the Host "Mademoiselle, a pleasure to see you once more. If you would need anymore assistance with the clothing you purchased, I'm sure Vincent is more than capable of extending a hand to help. For now, Adrien and I must be at a showing in my office for the District 8 Reaping."

The hostess' eyes got big, filled with excitement "Of course, Monsieur Gabriel." The fashion mogul was just about to turn on his heel for the exit, when Mrs. Rolling's next words caught him like a hook "But, if I understand correctly, your wife was the victor of District 8, is that right?"

He sighed under his breath "Yes, that was nearly 25 years ago. Why does this concern you?"

The sting from his tone was heard, but it didn't slow Penny down a bit "Well, this is a very special year for the Games, and since her disappearance, there has been a very notable lack of friendly communication between the Capitol and the Districts. Your wife really was a very great Citizen for the Capitol and Panem. So, I think in honor of her, taping you two during the viewing and asking you some questions would open that avenue back up, don't you agree?"

Nathalie was just about to dismiss the idea, when Gabriel held up a hand "I suppose a taping and a ten minute interview would be more than alright. So long as you personally agree to host the Fall Fashion Show, all seven days of it." He held up his hand for the bargain.

"You drive a hard bargain, throw in a free boozes pass at the show, and I'm yours." She countered, keeping her hands crossed over her chest, mic still pointedly in one hand.

The businessman conceded "You'll get your pass."

They shook on the deal and Penny followed the Agreste men up to Gabriel's office, seated at the top most floor in the building. Adrien hung his head, knowing Penny would ask some poking questions that he wasn't prepared to answer.

His mother had been a touchy subject for him ever since her disappearance, and for any kid, how couldn't it be? Just what did you say when you were the last person to see your mother before your house burnt down and then were as never a sign of her ever being there? The day she disappeared, almost everything that was a part of her was burned away and if it wasn't for the digital images left from her time within the Capitol, there wouldn't be a trace of her. On his worse days, he wasn't sure if it was better that she was missing rather than dead.

Each year, he and his father would sit in his office and watch as the District 8 Reaping would occur. His father never mentioned why they had to watch it, but the tradition continued every year, ending with his father taking a shot of something strong and continuing along with their schedules. This year was no different, with the exception of Penny Rolling sitting beside him and her cameraman taking the video of them from a kneeling angle, camera propped up on his shoulder. Adrien kept his eyes trained on the nearly wall to wall television screen. At least while it was on, he wouldn't be asked any questions. The anthem began to play through the speakers before a bird eye view over the thousands of teens of District 8 flooded his eyes, only a center aisle between the boys and girls separated them. Parents and siblings and the absolute rest of the textile district filled every corner of the streets. The buzz of the crowd dimmed as the Escort of District 8, Alec Cataldi, took to the stage, trying to get a laugh from them, or the people watching.

Alec was down three volunteers for the laughing job, because as long as Adrien had been alive, he had never his father crack anything bigger than a polite smile. Adrien never joked when it came to the Reapings or the Interviews or the Games or any of that crap because even with his mixed and hardly understandable emotions about his mother, he knew that she went through hell and back and she was the first one to ever do it. And Penny most likely didn't find Alec to be as charming or amusing as she was. She was a tv show host after all, and had to be a little full of herself now and again.

Luckily for the thousands of them in District 8, and the three of them seated there, Alec continued, going to the large globe containing the names of the girls. The camera would pan back and forth between the girls and the globe. Everyone holding their breath.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

The supermodel's heart skipped a beat before it sunk. He leaned towards the screen, green eyes bewildered. No. It couldn't possibly be the same girl.

The crowd of girls parted, revealing the dark haired teen that he had met three winters ago. Her hair was even in the same pigtails! Her white dress with a flower printed on the front swayed with the wind. Alec called out to her "Marinette! Ah, there you are. Come on now, don't be shy. Join me up here on stage."

The cameras zoomed up so closely on her face that he could see the freckles dotting across her nose and cheeks. The window around her got framed to the side as her personal information came through the system, from her blood type, to her height, weight, birthday, and an estimated number of her training score number would be. Which sat at a lowly 6.

As she was called up by Alec, her eyes remained trained on the ground just ahead of her. Something was running through her brain behind those bright blue eyes. Only after a few steps did she turn her head to look at something behind her. A flicker of recognition passed through her, but before Adrien could identify the next emotion that was drumming through her, the camera panned to Alec. After a second he called out to her again "Right up here Marinette." He held his hand out to her.

The camera didn't ever turn back around, only facing the stage now. Alec helped the dark haired girl upstage and held her hand, and brought it up, as if she was a champion that had won some special prize "Our first tribute!" The escort then moved to the opposite side of the stage "And now for the boys."

He could hardly keep his attention on Alec anymore. His mind was back three years ago, during the falling snow. District 8 didn't have a tree in sight, so seasons changing was hardly noticed in the northeast section of Panem. He always remembered his mother's favorite season was winter because it was the one time a season came to District 8. The first time he met Marinette, she lobbed a snowball so hard at his head and he fell flat on his ass. She looked down at him, standing next to his side, bent at her waist, and her hands resting on her knees,

"You know, it's not much of a snowball fight if you don't throw one back."

"A-Adrien Agreste?" The television screen called out his attention with his own name. Alec looked just as confused as he was. He pressed his hand into the headpiece in his ear, muttering into it "Can that be right?"

The blond had an eyebrow raised "Did they just say my name?"

Penny already had her microphone by his mouth "Mr. Agreste! You've just been called as District 8's male tribute! Did you know this was a possibility? What will you do now?"

The model's mouth hung half open, his green eyes were flickering between Penny, her microphone, and the television screen "Did he just say my name?" He repeated, his brain, once filled with his memories of District 8 and Marinette were drawing an all out blank.

He sat wordlessly in his chair, and his father and Nathalie were shoving the host and cameraman out of the door as she's firing off questions. His father sternly repeated "No comment." Nathalie already buzzed for the security team, but it hardly mattered now. The damage was done. The television started playing a side by side frame of the District 8 square and his shocked face, repeating "Did they just say my name?"

Adrien stared at the pristine white floor, his hands loosely clasped between his legs. Once he pushed Penny out the door and locked it firmly, Gabriel turned around "Adrien, we need to have a discussion." The way he said it made it sound so casual, as if he was just another talking about another scheduling issue.

The younger man was quick to anger, before this moment, he had never felt so.. betrayed "You knew, didn't you?" He asked and hadn't pulled his eyes off the spot on the floor that he had grown comfortable to.

His father didn't answer. Gabriel walked behind his charge, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

Adrien ripped out of his grasp. He jumped out of his chair and turned on his heels towards his father who stood a few inches taller than his son "You knew, didn't you?" When he didn't answer again, his fist balled up tight by his side and he yelled "ANSWER ME DAMN IT!"

Gabriel's lips turned flat before answering tersely "Yes, I did know it was a possibility. But Adrien, I took every precaution to make that possibility nearly nonexistent. Most kids your age would have had their names in there at the very least 6 times. The average in District 8 is 15, Adrien. It's 15. Your name was in there one time. Just once." He expected his father to be shaking, to be just as enraged as he was. But the man was just was calm, cool, and collected as ever. His voice was just louder than the tv behind Adrien, and he could hear the confirmation of his and Marinette's placement as the District 8 tributes.

Looking at his father like this made Adrien's blood boil "Why didn't you tell me?! I had every right to know!"

His father sighed "I can never talk to you when you're like this. You're just like your mother."

The chair Adrien had been sitting in was knock over to close the distance to his father. His hands fisted the older man's shirt and dragged him close. Nathalie gasped. The blond was shaking. Tears threatened to burn the edges of his eyes. Gabriel hardly moved from the spot he was standing in "AND NOW I'M A TRIBUTE JUST LIKE HER TOO!"

Unfazed, Gabriel took both of Adrien's wrists and removed his hands from his clothing "And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are the victor of your Games as well."

The high string of emotions were too much. Adrien wrapped his arms around his father and cried into his shoulder. He asked pointless questions that his father wouldn't answer 'Why didn't you tell me?' 'How did you know?' 'What's going to happen to me?' He didn't answer, but uncharacteristically, Gabriel hugged his son and soothed the back of his head, patting his hair like a child to calm him down.

Thousands of miles away, another father held their child. Marinette cried into her father's arms. One of his eyes has swollen shut, black and blue. Her mother stood by their side, gently rubbing her daughter's back as she muttered endless apologizes.

"Papa! I'm so sorry that I got you hurt!"

His large fingers pat the short hairs at the nape of her neck "Mon chouchou, this is not your fault. Your Papa is just a silly man." He wiped the tears from his daughter's face "This wound is only temporary. My only real wound would be if I lost you. My daughter!" Tom was not one to cry. He was a rather large man, raised in a family of three sisters, where he was the littlest but the strongest. He had to put on the brave face and protect his family, a trait that was not lost to him when he started his family with Sabine but now he was powerless to help his own daughter. Tears descended his soft cheeks and wet his mustache.

Sabine brushed her husband's and daughter's hair. She held back tears, but her small hand squeezed the large man's biceps at his words "Tom!" Her family's eyes turned to the small woman, shocked in such a raw experience "Don't say such a thing. This isn't goodbye. Not by a long shot." She knelt down, Tom and Marinette's legs having given up on them the moment they started hugging. She held her child's face between her palms and brought her up to stand as she spoke "You are my strong Marinette." At their full heights, Marinette stood a good half a head taller than her mother "Just look at you. You're strong and you're smart too."

The younger woman smiled through her tears. She put a hand over her mother's, turning her face into her mother's palm "Thanks mama, b-but what if it's not enough?"

"It will be." She insisted.

A peacekeeper by the door interrupted them "You have one more minute."

"We don't have much time." Her mother began looking through her purse, finally pulling out a picture of the three of them "Take this for your trip. And- And watch what you eat, in the Capitol and the- the Arena."

"Don't worry Marinette. We'll do whatever we can to send you money in the Games. We'll sell the bakery if we have to." Her father added to the young girl's distress.

"Don't! I mean, Mama, Papa, I appreciate it, I really do. But I-I'm strong on my own." She resolved herself, putting on a brave face "I'll come back home. I will, I promise."

The peacekeepers opened the doors "Your time is up."

She kissed her parent's cheeks "Go, please. For me. And don't sell the bakery. It'll only upset me. Just promise me to bake me something sweet for when I come back!" She waved goodbye to her parents. All she could think of was that those sweets would go to waste if she came back in a bodybag.

Alright, that's two! Let me know how you guys like it and I'll be sure to upload everything a lot faster.