Chapter 1
It had been three weeks since the accident. What the accident actually was, Adrien didn't know. He supposed it was because of "the accident" that he couldn't remember being in the stage-like room in his house nor did he remember how he got there. To be honest, he couldn't remember much of anything. The one thing he did remember was waking up with his mom brushing the hair out of his eyes while a doctor poked and prodded. He just wasn't entirely sure what had happened to get him there.
His father told him he had been messing around on the catwalk in a room in their basement, though Adrien had no recollection of ever seeing the room before. He had somehow fallen off the supposed catwalk and hit his head. He could vaguely recall the room and a flash of light, but that was about it. The doctor diagnosed him with some form of dissociative amnesia, but Adrien didn't know what that entailed, exactly.
His mom seemed more worried about the diagnosis than his father, though that didn't surprise Adrien. Though his memory was spotty, he knew for a fact that his father had always been a serious man. The fact that Adrien had lost several months of memory left the fashion designer relatively unfazed, and Adrien didn't expect anything else.
His mom was quick to comfort him, assuring him that the memory loss might not be permanent, but his father assured him that he wasn't missing much since much of his life had consisted of photoshoots, fencing, and Chinese lessons. After a quick check, Adrien found that could remember how to do all of those things, so his father was pleased.
One thing Adrien couldn't remember much about was the time that he had attended a public school. His father said he didn't have many friends at school and that he was often ahead of the others in class anyway, so Adrien didn't feel too bad about missing it. Maybe public school was just as bad as everyone made it out to be.
The last thing he could remember was his mother getting sick. His father was stressed and more aloof than ever, and Adrien had felt lost and extremely lonely. He had Nathalie and his bodyguard, but neither was the warm, loving type. Maybe that's why Adrien had been in the basement. His father had started avoiding him more and more, leaving his lessons to Nathalie, and Adrien probably had wanted an escape.
His father explained to him now that his mom had been very sick and hospital-bound for much of the time Adrien had lost his memory. His mom admitted that she didn't remember much of her hospital stay either, but she always shared a strange look with his father when she said it. Adrien got the feeling that her hospital stay was a little more serious than either of his parents made it out to be.
Now, however, Adrien put all of that past him. He was glad his mother was all right, even if he didn't remember her ever recovering. He was happy. He had a full family again, and his mother was back to conducting his lessons. His father seemed to be more at peace, and everything was going to be all right. He couldn't ask for a more perfect world.
ooo
The photoshoot went well into the afternoon, and Adrien's stomach growled uncomfortably. His Italian photographer frowned at Adrien, but his mother's musical laugh made the frown fade.
"Sounds like we should take a break, doesn't it?" his mother said, coming to help Adrien up. "Would you like anything, Vincent?"
The photographer hesitated, and Adrien felt his mom's grip tighten on his shoulders protectively. At last, the photographer gave the woman a firm head shake, and Adrien's mother waved at the man.
"We'll see you in about fifteen minutes, then," she assured, leading Adrien across the park. Kids ran around, trying to sneak peeks at the photography equipment, and there were a few girls whispering in the corner. He smiled at them as he passed making them scatter with their faces all various shades of pink. Adrien was used to this type of environment, and he leaned toward his mom contently.
"Why don't we try that bakery your father is always avoiding?" his mom asked, looking down at him with her large green eyes. "It's such a cute little place."
Adrien nodded excitedly, jogging toward the bakery on the corner. He and his mom had suggested going once when his father was with them, but he had refused. He mentioned something about Adrien keeping up his figure, but Adrien knew his father didn't really care what he ate as long as he continued his fencing lessons to burn it off.
It didn't take long to reach the doors of the bakery, but Adrien froze in front of them, his eyes studying the logo on the door. It was a large T and S surrounded by a laurel wreath-like design, and it was oddly familiar to him. He had seen the bakery before, of course, but something about the logo sparked a memory he couldn't quite place.
"Is something wrong?" his mom asked, the worry obvious in her voice.
"I thought I recognized the logo," Adrien responded, shaking the fog from his mind. It was probably nothing, or he remembered seeing it from other photoshoots. The bakery was close to the park, after all.
"Maybe you've come here," his mom said thoughtfully. "And that's why your father seems to avoid it."
Adrien shrugged and pulled the door open for his mother. She thanked him with a smile and Adrien followed her inside. There was a shorter woman behind the register, wearing a smile that was too forced. Adrien wandered over to the display case, his mouth watering at the sight of all the pastries.
"Adrien?" the woman behind the case gasped, her voice soft and full of surprise.
Adrien looked up with a small smile. He was used to strangers knowing his name-it came from the ads all around Paris with his face plastered on them. What he wasn't used to, however, was women breaking down into sobs after recognizing him. As the woman brought a hand up to her mouth, Adrien could see his mom already grabbing a tissue out of her purse. She carried all kinds of things in the bag on her shoulder during photoshoots, just in case.
"Are you all right?" Emilie Agreste asked, gently handing the woman the tissue. The woman accepted it gratefully, her eyes never leaving Adrien.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just...some things set me off. Our poor little girl."
Adrien felt extremely uncomfortable as he stared at the woman behind the counter. She was still crying, talking about something that had happened while Adrien's mother tried to console her. Before long, another man came out from the back. He was a large man and wore a blue button-up under a large apron. His brow furrowed as he took in the crying woman, but it softened with understanding when he saw Adrien.
"We haven't seen you in a while," the man said, coming straight for Adrien. Adrien's eyes widened as he looked to his mom for help.
"I'm sorry," Emilie said, her smile as bright as always, though her eyes were sympathetic. "Adrien had an accident a couple of weeks ago, and he's lost parts of his memory."
The man stared at Emilie in surprise, and the woman seemed too shocked to cry more at that moment.
"That's awful," the woman finally croaked, looking to Adrien once again. Her expression became pained. "You don't remember us?"
Adrien could see the disappointment on the woman's face and he considered lying just to spare her feelings. He had seen enough dramas to know that would never work out well, so he shook his head apologetically.
"Have I come here before?"
The woman sagged further. "You were friends with our daughter," she explained, her voice trembling.
"You don't remember Marinette?"
This time the question came from the man, who had put an arm around the crying woman's shoulders. Adrien took in the rings on the couple's fingers and realized they must be married.
"The name's not familiar," he said, swallowing. "I'm sorry."
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, and soon the large man behind the counter was as tear-filled as his wife. Adrien felt guilt twisting in his stomach and he took a step back.
"I wish I could remember," he tried, hoping to calm the upset couple. He looked to his mother who was watching the whole ordeal with a strange look on her face.
"Can we purchase two croissants for the road?" she asked, pulling out her wallet.
"Of course," the woman said, her back straightening quickly. "I'm so sorry."
After apologies on both sides and some awkward farewells, Adrien and his mother took the croissants out to the street, where they were nearly run over by a girl with glasses and auburn hair.
"Sorry," she apologized, out of breath. "I didn't see you there."
"It's all right," Adrien said, giving the girl one of his model-worthy smiles. The girl blinked, her eyes becoming huge behind her glasses.
"Adrien?"
Adrien's heart sank into his stomach and he felt his mom's hand squeeze his shoulder.
"We should get to the photo shoot," she said.
"Oh, right," the girl said, looking between Adrien and his mother. "You're still doing those."
"Still?" Adrien asked, furrowing his brow.
The girl looked confused by Adrien's question and he cleared his throat. The girl seemed to be more familiar with him than some of the other crazed fans he would meet occasionally, but he hadn't ever seen her before.
"Nevermind," he said quickly before the girl could say anything else. "It...it was nice to meet you."
He awkwardly started across the street, catching up to his mother and leaving the confused girl behind. He hadn't gone more than a few steps when he heard the girl's muttered response.
"We've already met."
ooo
Adrien swirled the food around on his plate, not feeling very hungry despite a busy day of photoshoots and lessons. His mom was a good teacher, but there was only so much she could do to make things interesting.
"Are you not hungry?" his father asked from the head of the table. Adrien looked up in surprise, not aware that his father was watching him.
"He had a bit of a long day," Emilie cut in, looking at her son with a sympathetic expression. "We ran into some people who recognized him, but he couldn't remember them. It must have made him feel a bit weird."
"They said I was friends with their daughter," Adrien admitted, narrowing his eyes at the food on his plate. "My guess would be from school."
"You never talked much about the girls at school," his father said warily. "What was the daughter's name?"
Adrien frowned as he thought about it. It was something like Margret, but that wasn't it. It was something strange, but pretty. After a minute he remembered and looked up excitedly.
"Marinette," he blurted. "Her name was Marinette."
Gabriel choked on the food he was currently trying to swallow, and he began to cough into a cloth napkin beside his plate. Adrien was surprised by the response and he frowned at his mother. She shared the concerned look before patting her husband on the back.
"Do you recognize the name?" Adrien asked, putting his utensils aside.
Gabriel took a long drink from his glass before she shook his head. "I don't."
Adrien wasn't convinced by his father's explanation and he stared at his father. He wasn't sure a mere acquaintance of his from school would have introduced him to her parents, and the two bakers seemed to know him pretty well. He supposed they owned a bakery, so there was a chance he had gone to get something from there with their daughter, but they seemed too familiar with him for it to be a one-time occurrence.
"Maybe we could go back and ask for a picture," Emilie suggested, giving Adrien a small smile. "The doctor said showing you pictures from the time you're missing could be helpful."
"I don't think you should go back," Gabriel cut in, putting the napkin down and looking at his wife sternly. "It's obviously upset Adrien."
"I just hate not remembering," Adrien said, his heart sinking at the thought of being banned from yet another place.
"I don't think there would be any harm-" Emilie started.
"I have some old photoshoot pictures Adrien should look over," Gabriel cut in, standing from his place. "Come with me, Emilie."
The woman frowned at Gabriel but she got to her feet as well. Adrien watched his parents exit the room and he looked down at his plate. A feeling of loneliness settled over him as he continued to eat alone, and he couldn't help but feel like it was familiar.
ooo
Adrien stopped in front of the doors of the bakery, pulling his white blazer around his shoulders. It had started raining right before he left the mansion, but he couldn't find his umbrella anywhere. He hadn't wanted to waste any time looking for a spare, so he had run out into the rain, hurrying to the subway to avoid getting soaked. It didn't matter much now since he was thoroughly wet. A small bell rang as he pushed the door open and walked inside the small bakery. It was warm and cozy inside and he felt a shiver run down his spine.
"Adrien!" The cheerful call came from the large man, who Adrien assumed was Tom. He had researched the bakery online and discovered that the name of the bakery was Tom and Sabine's.
"Hello," he managed, raising a hand in greeting. "I'm sorry to bother you again."
"It's never a bother," the man assured, giving Adrien a tense smile. "What can I get for you?"
Adrien hesitated. He wasn't sure how to put his request into words without sounding strange, but the man was giving him such a kind look that Adrien decided just to go for it. The worst the man could do was deny Adrien his request.
"I was wondering if you had a picture of your daughter," Adrien said, at last, his hands shaking. He wasn't sure if it was from the cold or nervousness, but he couldn't get them to stop for the life of him.
The man's smile only grew and he gestured to a door inside the bakery. "We have pictures of her up in the apartment," he said. "Head up the stairs and knock on the door. Sabine should be in there."
Adrien's heart began to pound, and his feet seemed to move on their own toward the door the man had indicated. "Thanks," he offered, trying to look less nervous than he felt.
"Of course," the friendly man said as Adrien passed. "I hope it helps."
Adrien smiled at the man and hurried up the stairs. He knocked on the door softly and he heard someone move inside. The door swung open, and Adrien's mouth went dry. After exchanging pleasantries with the small woman on the other side of the door, Adrien was able to voice his request at last.
"Oh, of course," Sabine said, moving out of the doorway so he could come in. "Come sit. I'll grab a few."
Adrien did as the woman instructed, looking around the small apartment. He wanted to say it looked familiar, but he also felt that he had never seen this place before. He took a seat on the couch, awkwardly clasping his hands in his lap. It didn't take long for the woman to come back with some pictures. She handed the frames to Adrien and he looked down at them expectantly.
There was a girl in all of them with dark hair and bright eyes. She beamed at the camera between her parents in one and was alone in another. Her hair was sectioned off into two pigtails and tied with red bands. Disappointment filled Adrien's stomach as he realized he had never seen the girl before in his life.
"Anything?" the woman asked, the hope in her voice evident.
"I'm sorry," Adrien replied, swallowing his own disappointment. "Is she at home?" he blurted, unable to keep his question in. "You made it seem like she's not here anymore."
"She-" the woman's voice cracked and she began to fidget with her bare earlobe. "She got really hurt. She's in the hospital. She's been in a coma for weeks."
"Oh," Adrien said, looking down at the happy girl in the pictures on his lap. He imagined her hooked up to machines in the hospital, barely alive. His heart sank further and he pushed the pictures off his lap slowly. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," the woman said, softly. "She was always putting herself in danger. We didn't know until it was too late to help her."
Adrien wasn't sure what to make of that, so he got to his feet. "I should probably go," he breathed. "My father wants me home for a Chinese lesson."
"I won't keep you," Sabine said, moving toward the door. Adrien headed to the door as well and reached out his right hand to shake the woman's hand. She accepted it with a smile. "You're welcome anytime. It's been rather quiet here lately."
Adrien wasn't looking at the woman, his entire attention focused on his hand. There was a small tan line around his ring finger as if he used to wear a ring there. He didn't remember ever having a ring, but he didn't remember much of anything apparently. He released the woman's hand and pulled his damp blazer around his shoulders in preparation for the rain.
"Thank you for humoring me," he said. "I hope your daughter gets better."
"Thank you, Adrien. Oh, why don't you take one of our umbrellas? It's pouring out there and you're already soaked. You could bring it back by the bakery later."
Adrien wanted to object, but the thought of walking in the rain made him shiver. He glanced down at the bin by the door with a different assortment of umbrellas, and he selected a plain black one.
"Again, thank you," he said, heading out the door. "If your daughter was anything like you and your husband, then I can see why I would be her friend."
The woman in the doorway teared up at the statement and Adrien waved his goodbye before he made her cry again. He was already feeling stupid for barging into the couple's house to ask personal questions about their life. He made it down the stairs and was just about to exit the bakery doors after saying goodbye to Tom when he stopped.
He had been about to open the umbrella, but a logo on the base of the handle caught him off guard. The inscribed 'G' was something he knew better than probably anyone. It was his father's brand logo, and the logo his own face was often associated with. It seemed strange for the bakers to have a Gabriel umbrella since the item was extremely overpriced.
"Are you all right, Adrien?" Tom asked.
Adrien looked up in surprise, realizing he was standing in the doorway without moving. "Yes," he said quickly, flashing the man a smile. "Just trying to get the umbrella open."