Remember when I said that I don't like you suffering? Apparently four hours of sleep and a cup of coffee is not what someone needs to keep awake and write. I thought I was reeling in for a fluffy and cute chapter of making up and making out. Guess what.

•••

Adrien trudged out of his bed that following morning. Last night was… eventful to say the least. He expected it. From bits of advice from Alya, he could make out that she had been quite in love with someone since collège. He did not know if that was still running to today but last night confirmed it. She was still in love with someone else. Someone entirely not different. Someone not him.

Adrien: Alya who does Marinette love?

He sent the text to her best friend, hoping amongst hope that she would have an answer.

Alya: Why? I cant answer tht rn

Adrien sighed. Of course she would not say anything. Friends tend to keep those as secrets for themselves amd themselves only.

Adrien: I'm really sorry but I need to know that.

Alya: Adrien i promise i cant. mari's gonna kill me

Adrien: I promise I won't say anything.

Alya: Mari. Is going. To kill me

Adrien: And I won't act like I know.

Alya: Its against the mari law

Adrien: I have to know, Alya. This is super complicated, I know, and it's a little bit straightforward but I have to know who that guy is and have a really reaaaaally long talk with him I ju

Adrien: st have to know Alya. Research purposes please. You're a journalist, you know thirst for information when you see it.

Alya: yes im a journalist thats why confidentiality is my thing

Adrien: Please just give me the name and I'll stop texting you. Mari's really hurting right now. She's liked the guy for years and then here comes another guy who tries to woo her but fail because of this first guy.

The response did not come as quickly as the other responses.

Adrien: So if you would just please tell me that dang guy's name I would be gladly out of your way.

Adrien sighed after five full minutes of no replied. He knew he would nof get much from Alya because it was Alya and that was her way.

Adrien: You know what? It's okay. Sorry if I offended you or anything.

Just barely a second later came the response.

Alya: i never wanted you to know because the guys you idiot

Adrien stared wide eyed at the text. The words The guy's you idiot seemed to float out of his phone and in front of his face. It seemed to smack him in the face over and over again that he knew that his face was broken. The guy was Adrien Agreste. The guy Marinette likes was Adrien Agreste and the guy who liked her was Chat Noir.

He laid back down on his bed, cursing the image his father made him have.

Adrien was this supressed kid whom his father molded. It was the perfect little angel made to cater the needs of the public mass. He was not anyone near normal because he was an Agreste, something his father made clear of often times. Adrien Agreste was a photograph, a billboard, a model, an image the public wants and loves so dearly. He was not the image of warmth and love even if is photos said so. He was not a real boy. He was a robot, a fraud, the masked identity behind Chat Noir.

She fell for the wrong boy.

Summoning Plagg and transforming into someone he was completely comfortable with was easy after the glutton's ungodly intake of Camembert. He jumped through the window and went off from rooftop to rooftop as the superhero.

He felt his heart breaking both for himself and Marinette. She liked the wrong side of the same coin and he he fell in love in the other side. The right side if you may. This was nearly not as worse as having told by Marinette directly that she liked someone else but it was still bad enough to not keep him from crying so much that the people were starting to stare andoh no the people were starting to stare!

Chat Noir hid behind a particularly large billboard and tried to calm his tears and breathing. It was hard to do so but he managed, only turning to a hiccuping mess but it was nothing hard to acknowledge. He went out of his hiding place and stared at the familiarly placed billboard. He knew the person in the billboard but at the same time he did not. It was as if he was a foreign face with his blond hair and green eyes looking happy. He knew that the boy was not happy. He should know. But how foreign would that face be if that was the one that made his chances with Marinette cut to zero.

He shook his head and dropped down to the ground, not minding the people who happened to see him and notice his weird actions. As he walked through the city, he noticed more and more how that traitorous face implant itself in the daily minds and lives of the people. He could never wonder why Marinette liked that face. That was the face of an angel. Who would not?

He was starting to get frustrated by it all. The more he saw, the more his heart broke. It was a devastating sight. He hated that face. If only people knew how difficult that was. He stopped at a large photo of the model staring into the camera and digging his glares to the people who happened to pass by. Chat and the boy held their gazes for a while.

"You." He spoke, "You ruined my life. You destroyed everything." He voice started shaking, "I hate you."

He held his arm up and shouted with all the anger he could muster, "Cataclysm!"

He used the power on the poster, dissolving it to nothing but a black mess. With a swipe, his power was used on the poor and innocent piece of paper. He put his hands up to his hair, clutching the golden mop as his knees gave in and brought him to the ground. His tears, that had subsided for about ten minutes, had come back once again for an encore of the event.

He could feel so many people watching him and silently consoling him whatever the problem was. The thing was, nobody approached the black clad hero.

Except for one.

"Chat." That comforting voice

He knew that voice. He loved that voice.

He could feel her tiny frame try to make its way to hug him. After a while of silently suffering internally and externally, he shrugged her off and jumped away before she could get a word out.

That night, he was too stubborn to come over. He knew that he should. There were so many things words to be said. But he knew that there was none he would rather say.

•••

Most definitely not fluffy, amiright? Anyways, my head's pounding and I neee sleep but you know. Angst and Sadrien fuel me and my life so.

PS I can't help but admit that this might probably be my best chapter. Ever. I feel like a proud parent of a murderer.