That's Rich Coming From You
If I said I ever wanted to come back, I'd be lying. I've never been more free in my life…
Chloé stares at the first letter in her lap, and fingers the seal, trying to decide whether or not it's worth opening.
She doesn't remember her mother all that well… nothing but a few scattered remnants of what could be memories but feel more like dreams. She's not even sure what she looks like… not coherently.
When Chloé was younger, she hadn't even thought she had a mother… Figured she'd always just existed this way, that the world was built around her existence. As far as she'd been concerned there was no such thing as mothers. Anyone who claimed otherwise must be lying.
When Chloé was older, (or at the very least grown enough to realize that she did in fact have one at some point in her life) she had just figured hers was dead. Plenty of mothers were deceased in fairytales and she was so close to being a princess anyways and it wasn't like her father told her any different. Wasn't like he ever talked about her anyways… Wasn't like she ever asked...
The mother in Chloé's mind had been pieced together from side comments from well meaning strangers and what little photographs she had found squirreled away around the house, and even those are based on speculation. Her mother had probably been royalty herself … Probably drop dead gorgeous and a goddess in more ways than one. She was an angel who had chosen to walk among mortals, a queen from a distant land, someone powerful and strong and perfect in every way shape and form. The mother Chloé had dreamed of was everything Chloé could be and more.
She just wasn't supposed to be alive. Or have a miraculous. (Even if that last part is barely confirmed.
"You don't have to read it now." Says Zeezle, breaking her way into Chloé's thoughts. "You can wait until you're ready. No shame in that."
Chloé blinks. Snaps out of it.
"It's probably an apology." She says, as dismissively as she can manage. Its terribly ineffective. She's gotten pretty terrible at hiding her emotions... "Or an excuse or something. There's really no point in keeping it." She flips her hair back and starts to stand, tossing the letter on her vanity with the rest of them. It comes across as deliciously arrogant, and she tries not to smile.
If kwamis could purse their lips, Zeezle would.
"Don't say that…"
"What? It's true. Besides if she actually cared she would have delivered it herself instead of relying on some senile dinosaur in tacky shorts."
And if she really cared she wouldn't have left at all…
...or at the very least taken me with her.
(She's not quite sure where that came from. Looks like Adrien isn't the only one with mother issues…)
"I'm sure she loved you very much." Says Zeezle weakly, like she's suddenly capable of being supportive instead of a total pain. Like she isn't totally lying through her teeth.
(Does Zeezle even have teeth? Do kwamis even have teeth?)
Chloé scoffs. "Please. I bet the only thing she ever loved was herself."
Saying that outloud makes her stomach turn for reasons she can't quite explain. She's certain she's heard that before… mostly because she has. Because it's been said about her.
Except there's no way that's true...Except it sort of is…
Out of habit, she stares at her hand and is more than a little pleased to find it still blissfully bare. Then she shoots a look at the envelope stack.
"I hate her…" She whispers. "I hope wherever she is, she's miserable…."
Zeezle says nothing, doesn't try to deny it at all just lies gently next to the envelopes, binding them up again nice and neat then tucking them in a drawer for like, future reference or something. As if she's actually want to see the damn thing…
"They'd be better off in the trash." Chloé says, although she doesn't move to throw them away.
She said she'd deal with them later. It isn't later yet.
Chloé hasn't checked her phone since her suspension.
It isn't something she planned on really. Not like she woke up the day after and decided she was going to completely cut off the outside- oh.
Wait that's exactly what she did.
Still, before now, the longest she's ever gone without checking her phone, (and not actually been incapacitated in some way or another) is three hours and that's only because some idiot teacher had decided that she had to give it up during a test. She remembers all too quickly how much much she'd whined and threatened, how the teacher had to practically pry it from her fingertips and place it in a special compartment on her desk. The teacher retired the next semester, the school had ended up with a particularly generous donation, and her replacement- had been more than willing to let Chloé get away with 'accommodations' like that.
(Thinking about it again makes her stomach churn, She doesn't think about the reasons why. It's not something she should really be concerned about it, hmm?)
She's more than a little tempted to make her hiatus permanent. It's still not too late to change her name and move to another country. Maybe England. Maybe America. Who knows…
Still it's been a few days… she should be safe by now…
Chloé takes a deep breath, and presses the power button on her phone, closing her eyes for a few minutes so she can have time to brace herself. Then, very slowly, she shoots her phone a look.
It's worse than she thought.
Her notifications have more then reached the hundreds.
She swipes away her social media mentions, and skims through her messages, deleting all the unknown numbers and every single, stupid, sycophantic apology text of Sabrina's. She's not left with much, actually.
Like, maybe one or two from Adrien, (which she ignores for now, because he's a whole new can of worms not worth opening at the moment,) and a couple from her father (which she also deletes.), and one, single message from Mireille of all people.
She blinks and tries to decide whether or not it's worth opening. She already knows who Ladybug is after all, and that's really the whole reason she contacted her in the first place, so there's not any point in checking.
Okay but consider this: She's relatively adorable, and it's not like you have anything else you'd rather been doing.
Besides, her reputation's practically in the gutter anyways… she could use all the friends she can find. (And Mireille is pretty influential as far as friend choices go.)
(That past part sends something strange rolling through her chest but she brushes it off. Influence is the only way to get far in life. Anyone who says otherwise is kidding themselves.)
"Are u still up for meeting me this weekend? My photoshoot got cancelled :,) so im pretty much free"
"Text her back!' Says Zeezle, who's made herself a nice little nest of Chloé 's hair. (Normally she'd swat her away but it's kind of cute and it feels kind of nice so she lets her stay.) "Go be social. Bees work better with friends."
"I suppose so…" Says Chloé , although she was planning on it anyways. "I mean it's not like I have anything better to do."
"Yea sure. What time?"
Chloé checks her phone to make sure she's got the time right, then goes back to staring at the horizon impatiently. Her fingers drum against her leg, counting off the seconds that Mireille isn't there. That she's late.
"She probably cancelled." Chloé says glumly. Wonders, briefly, if she should have bought something to drink. Then this trip wouldn't be a total waste.
"If you didn't want to wait, you shouldn't have come thirty minutes early." Mutters Zeezle.
(Who seems to think she's quite the social expert for someone whose only companion is a teenage socialite.)
Chloé sighs, and zips her purse shut so she doesn't have to answer her.
"She should have texted ahead… what kind of person doesn't text ahead? She's probably not coming,"
(Tap..tap...tap...)
She checks her phone again, a little frustrated that only a minute has passed, then sets it back down again. Resumes tapping. Then checks again.
The cycle continues for another fifteen minutes.
She's considering leaving, like, literally stands up and slings her bag around her shoulder, considering, when she spots that all too familiar black haired bob cross the street and walk her cute self over to the cafe.
Naturally she sits back down again. Pulls out her phone and pretends not to see Mireille at first so she doesn't look desperate. She looks up at the last minute, and waves.
Careful… don't wanna come off like some friendless loser...
Mireille waves back. Her hands are terribly small… maybe that's why that was such a weak little wave.
Or maybe she's just as nervous as Chloé is.
Either way, small wave or not, nervous or not, she's here and that's all that counts right? Right.
She slides down next to Chloé and shoots her a smile.
"I hope you didn't have to wait long… Didn't expect you to come so early…" She says and giggles nervously.
She pushes a strand of hair from her face, and smiles. Her hands are shaking.
"Not really." Says Chloé. She leans forward and tries to send a grin herself. It falls flat. She seems to be suffering from resting bitch face.
There's silence. Its agonizingly long, as Chloé stares at Mireille who in turn is staring at her hands. (Neatly folded in her lap.)
"Do you wanna like, order or something?" Asks Chloé because that's what you're supposed to do in situations like these.
Mireille looks up- a little startled and Chloé is suddenly aware of how much she reminds her of a deer- and nods.
"Oh." She says. Smiles again. (She doesn't show her teeth… is it because of or why her smiles are so fleeting?) "Sure I mean- go ahead."
Okay…
That's not weird at all…
More silence. More staring.
"Well?" She asks. Raises an eyebrow. "Do you want something or not?"
"I'm good. I ah, I ate before I left."
She gives another giggle although it's painfully strained.
Chloé wonders if it's fake. It seems fake.
"I'll pay." She says, and shoots her a wide grin.
The magic words… She thinks. Now you have to be having fun.
Except Mireille clearly isn't…
Her eyes grow wide and she straightens suddenly. "No- it's fine! I wouldn't want to impose or anything…"
Which is it? Thinks Chloé with a frown. You already ate or you don't want to impose. Make up your mind!
Her fingers are tap tap tapping again. She clenches her fingers in an attempt to get them to stop and tries her hand at another smile. It falls flat. Figures.
"You're not imposing." She says. "Fine. Whatever. Your loss."
That comes off ruder than she expected it to…
She clenches her fists tighter and looks away.
"I mean, I don't want to force you or anything but if you want a drink or something…"
"That really is nice of you…" Mireille squeaks. "But I'm fine!"
She looks like she's about to cry… Thinks Chloé and she sighs. Pinches the bridge of her nose. (Naturally this only makes Mirielle tense up even more.)
"You're afraid of me- aren't you." It comes off as more of a statement then a question.
Mireille laughs nervously. "A little." She says. "No- a lot. I'm sorry, I've just heard a lot about you…"
"Are they good things?" Chloé asks.
Of course they aren't. You know that perfectly well…
"Not really…" Says Mireille.
Silence. Now it's Chloé who can't lift her eyes above the table.
Something coils in her stomach. Something sour.
"if it makes you feel better, you're nicer than I thought you'd be." Says Mireille, in some desperate attempt to cheer her up.
It works. Sort of.
"Well of course." She says, with the same sort of bravo she had when she woke up. (So completely fake.) "Thanks though."
Means a lot I guess.
Silence again, neither of them looking up.
"You don't have to be here if you don't want to." Says Chloé. "Like I get it if you wanna leave or something."
I'm not sure I'd want to be around me either… She thinks.
The coil tightens. She feels sick.
"It's not-" Mireille says then stops. "You went through all the trouble of inviting me it seems rude to just leave."
"No it's fine." Says Chloé. "Thanks for coming."
"Thanks for having me. Sorry this wasn't as fun as you wanted. See you around!"
Mireille starts to stand and smiles for real this time, like she's relieved to be gone or something.
She probably is. Stop kidding yourself.
"See you around." Says Chloé.
Except Mireille's already gone.
She gets home and collapses on her bed without a sound, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling her covers tight around her body.
"I'm sorry." Whispers Zeezle. She tries to press her body next to Chloé's but Chloé pushes her away and curls up tighter.
"Go away." She says. "I want to be alone."
It's only partially a lie. Maybe if she says it enough, it'll actually come true.
Monday comes faster than it should.
She blinks and it's there. Feels every second as she's laying in bed and trying desperately to sleep- even if it;s just for a few minutes,
Then morning comes and she practically has to drag herself out of bed, her legs weighing her down like sticks of lead.
She tries her best to drag out her morning routine as slow as she can, putting extra effort into her appearance and hoping it will be enough to make her late. She checks her temperature a thousand times. Checks the date twice that.
No such luck. The universe seems determined to make her suffer this morning.
As it is, she's painfully early, and out of the door faster than she can blink.
Chloé doesn't dare make eye contact. Mostly she just stares at her feet,
The crowd parts for her as always and she swallows back a sob, trying her hardest to seem like she isn't. About to cry that is.
Before, at the height of her Chloé -ness, crowds parted like that all the time, except she remembers it actually not making her feel like crap. She's used to things like that, used to people going out of their way to impress her or at the very least going out of their way not to get in hers. She'd always vaguely been aware it was because of fear, sure, deep down everyone follows around people with power, but she'd always thought that a part of them absolutely adored her as well.
(And why wouldn't they? She's practically the princess of Paris, the queen of style herself, the most influential teen in the city, aside from the lucky duo themselves of course.
Doesn't really look like it though…)
She's starting to think that maybe it wasn't that fight with Lila who turned everyone against her.
That maybe they were never on her side to begin with,
Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Lila and is a little shocked to see her flinch. Like, she's seen her flinch before, seen her flinch away from Chloé hundreds of times, but there's something different this time. Something a little along the lines of genuine fear.
She's not even sure why she's so surprised. She assaulted her. She thinks she'd be a little afraid too.
Their eyes meet again and for a second, the two of them just stare at each other from across the hall. Chloé 's frozen into place, couldn't run even if she wanted too and so's Lila, or she is until she manages to tear herself away and walk as quickly to class as she can.
She swears it goes silent the second she steps through the door. Then, she sits and the whispering begins.
She knows it's about her. She might be unable to look any of them in the eye but she can still see their stares, their pointed fingers, how they hush up when they think she's watching.
She can't blame them too bad. She'd laugh about them too if given the chance…
The only ones not whispering behind her back are Adrian and Marinette and that's only because the former is too nice and the latter isn't even here yet. That last bit is more than a little pleasing. It's kind of nice to have someone else suffer instead of her for once.
Out of the corner of her eye she spots Sabrina, bandages still wrapped around her neck, and talking to Rose and Juleka. For a second she makes eye contact with Chloé but then Rose pulls her away and into a hug and it's broken. Something twinges in her chest. Something sour . Like she did something wrong.
She turns away quickly and stares rather intently at her hands instead.
So she isn't absent. She thinks. Guess she isn't that afraid of you.
Her heart is pounding in her chest, and the knot in her stomach twists even more, and she's trying harder then ever not to cry but even then, she still can't help but start to tear up. And why wouldn't she? Everyone hates her.
"Everything alright?" Someone asks and places an all too familiar hand on her shoulder. Now it's her turn to flinch.
It has to be some sort of a joke. She thinks and she turns around,ready to give them a piece of her mind. To remind them that although she might seem down she's still queen bee around here.
Her face softens when she sees its Adrien.
(Even if she's a little shocked to see that he's actually talking to her surrounded by all these people. Doesn't he have a reputation to worry about? What will people think!)
"Yeah." She says, short and sweet and abrupt because that's really all she can manage. "Why wouldn't I be?"
His smile falters and she feels a bang of something sour- like she's kicked a small animal or something- but then his eyes light up a little and she sees that everything's okay.
She breathes a little sigh of relief. She might not be attracted to him but she still sort of cares. Like a tiny bit. Like he's kinda actually lucky to have her around.
She looks up and sees him smiling at her- not the one she remembers from when they were young (gap toothed and wide and laughing) and not that psuedo-model coy thing he tries to pass off as one but something shy and almost genuine.
There's a gap in her memory, a line between pre Chloé and like, actual Chloé, except that has to be wrong because she's always been Chloé (like maybe not this fake Chloé but the one before that) so she figures it was less that she changed but that Adrien did.
She remembers the before Adrien who would let her boss him around and she remembers the one who doesn't seem to want anything to do with her. This Adrien is somewhere in between, not quite a stranger but also not the best friend she vaguely remembers.
Still he smiled at her. So it's a start…
"I'm glad." He says and he looks like he's about to say more but the teacher starts calling roll and he has to sit down.
She thinks briefly about the letter she currently has on her dresser, and how Adrien would kill to receive something like that. She thinks about the miraculouses and Master Fu and about Ladybug actually being Marionette and her stomach squeezes.
He's always been such a quiet person. She bets he could keep a secret… And not once had Zeezle said anything about not telling people…
She wants to scream. Sabrina has pretty much been banned from talking to her, Mireille's too afraid to hold a conversation and Alya can't even look her in the eye. Her only friends are a talking bee and maybe some gross old man and his flying turtle companion thing.
Still, it's nice to know someone cares.
She grins a little and tries to focus on the fuzzy feeling growing in her chest. The one that tells her everything's gonna be alright. That nothing else is gonna go wrong and okay, maybe not everyone loves her right now but someone seems to care enough to ask about hiw she is doing then it can't be that bad.
By no stretch of the imagination does it completely erase the last couple of months or whatever and to be completely honest she isn't sure she can but it does loosen the knot in her stomach and it does make her feel a little less sick. She's not sure if she will ever feel the way she did before. She's not sure if she wants to.
Still Chloé smiles.
Maybe today won't be so bad after all.
Chloé considers catching Adrien after class, and she almost does, but then Marinette stumbles into the room late as ever and practically his arms and Chloé gives up, and goes the opposite direction instead. Who comes to class right after it's ended anyways? How can anyone be that late?
Oh yeah. Ladybug.
Nice to know she's doing a public service or whatever.
She supposes it's sort of a good thing, in some bizarre, my life sucks so why bother way. Like she's been gone all week. The least she could do is check her locker and see if the akumas are still there.
(Look a third thing that shouldn't be opened!)
She sighs and weaves her way through the hall, and does her combination without thinking. It's all routine to her anyways. Just leaves her more time to think.
So not necessarily a good thing…
Her locker clicks open with surprisingly little resistance and she kind of smirks, satisfied until she realizes that this isn't necessarily a good thing either. That maybe she should be a little more concerned.
Or y'know… a lot more concerned, what with the jars of personified evil sitting there.
The room suddenly grows cold and her heart skips a beat.
No. She thinks. No there's no way, I locked it, I hid them...
Her stomach drops and she pushes her books to the floor, and goes straight for the curtain which she tears away too.
Shit. She thinks. Shit shit shit shit.
Only to find nothing.