Note : I wrote this story before the season 2.
Night falls on Paris and in Alya's apartment, the party is in full swing.
Adrien is having a great time. A really, really great time. And above all, his relief is boundless. Because despite his joy at the idea of seeing his former comrades again, he had apprehended this evening. Fearing to feel alienated after so many years spent cut off from this world that was once his. Fearing that seeing those he frequented at the time of his father's betrayal would bring back too painful memories in him.
At one time, that certainly would have been the case.
He would have been paralyzed with grief, overcome with guilt, and would have disappeared again in an attempt to give his wounds time to heal.
But since then, Adrien has moved on.
Tired of watching himself slowly die, he has turned his life around and is finally reaping the benefits of his hard work. Of course, it will certainly take some time for his trauma to wear off, but the progresses he has made are already extraordinary. Despair has given way to a discreet melancholy, the desire to leave has turned into a need to reconnect with this reality that he has only too long avoided.
And the suffering that struck him was softened, gradually revealing a wonderful desire to live the present moment.
Glass in hand, the young man now wanders around the living room.
He sees Marinette coming from the kitchen with a tray full of food in her hands. She walks towards the table already heavily loaded with bottles and food, meets Adrien's gaze, smiles at him.
And stumble.
"Watch out!", exclaims Adrien, alarmed.
He rushes towards his friend who is swinging dangerously, but at the last second Marinette manages to regain her balance at the cost of a surprising contortion.
"Wow, it ... it was close!", she exclaims with a breathless laugh.
"I saw that", replied Adrien, smiling. "Are you going to be okay?", he adds with legitimate concern.
Marinette was already known for her clumsiness back when they were in high school, and time has obviously done nothing to help matters.
Without even thinking about it, he puts his hand on the young woman's shoulder, as if to confirm his support. Marinette flinches almost imperceptibly, blushes, then shakes her head with a small smile.
"I'll be fine, thank you", she replied in a confident tone. "Don't worry about me."
Under the gaze of the young man, she unceremoniously pushes half a dozen bottles, puts down her tray, then stands up with her hands proudly placed on her hips.
"There you go!", she exclaims triumphantly. "I... I'm sorry, I have to go back," she continues to Adrien's attention, while reaching out to a nearby door. "Alya is alone with the oven, and you know how Alya is when she cooks..."
A contrite grin briefly distorts her features as she lets her sentence die, and Adrien bursts into laughter. Their friend's culinary disasters are notorious. The culinary catastrophes of their friend are famous. Mythical, in fact.
"Say no more!" He laughs. "Go! I don't want to eat bits of coals! "
He greets Marinette with a knowing wink, grabs one of the petits fours she has just brought and resumes his walk.
As he crosses the living room, his gaze falls on Nino, busy adjusting the volume of a recalcitrant speaker. Immediately, an affectionate smile appears on his lips. Nino only lives for music or almost, and he devotes himself body and soul to animate the party as well as possible. The musical atmosphere is perfect and Adrien mechanically beats time with his fingers as he walks randomly towards the small groups that form now his friends.
After having chatted for a moment with Mylène and Ivan, he approaches Alix and Chloé, obviously in deep conversation.
"Yeah, but did you saw the size of this apartment?", Alix exclaims with a sigh of envy, while greeting Adrien with a small wave of the hand. "A kitchen, a living room, a bedroom AND an office! My entire studio is smaller than this room!", she concludes, sharply pointing out the surroundings with a large gesture.
Adrien dodges this rapid movement which nearly makes his glass fly across said room, while a small smile appears on Chloé's face.
"Family privilege," retorts his childhood friend, absently running her fingers through her blond curls. "The apartment belongs to her grandmother, so she pays almost nothing as rent. "
"It's true that you know a lot in terms of family privileges ", sneers Alix in a mocking voice.
Adrien can't help but burst out laughing at the pinched look that immediately appears on Chloé's features. The latter lets out a falsely scandalized sniff, before emptying her glass in one gulp and continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Adrien observes his childhood friend with an amused smile.
At another time, Chloé would have exploded with rage, screamed with anger, before leaving the room threatening to involve her father. But today, although she is always so quick to make acerbic remarks, the young woman has softened considerably. Absently, Adrien wonders if the fact of hanging out with Nino, Alya and Marinette would not have something to do with it. Nino is dedication embodied, Alya never shies away from the slightest injustice, while Marinette and her legendary optimism are a real ray of sunshine.
What better way to melt Chloé's heart of ice?
Suddenly, a vigorous slap between the shoulder blades almost knocks Adrien down. He stumbles, vacillates, painfully holds on to Alix who has obviously suffered the same fate as him. While his comrade lets out a string of insults, Adrien turns to see Kim's face, hilarious.
"Hey, you three!", he says happily, as Alix glares at him. "Are you up for a drinking contest? Sabrina is in!", he continues, pointing to their friend over his shoulder.
Adrien runs his hand behind his back, grimacing. He has endured much worse as Chat Noir, but he would have gladly done without the dull ache that is now pulsing in his spine. Tomorrow he will certainly have a gigantic bruise in the shape of a hand imprinted on his skin.
Obviously not very resentful, Alix almost pierces the eardrums of his friends by yelling an enthusiastic "I'M IN!". Under the questioning look that Kim gives him, Adrien politely declines the invitation and then walks away, while Chloé does the same.
During the hours that follow, Adrien goes from group to group, chats, slowly reconnects with his old friends.
He doesn't have the words to say how happy he is to see them again.
Despite his fame and his wealthy family, Adrien always had simple desires. To go to school. To make friends. To hang out with them, to talk to them for hours. To laugh, to have fun. To live.
These moments of ordinary happiness were forbidden to him by his father for years, which he spent locked up in his mansion as in a golden prison. And when he thought he finally got what he longed for, those precious moments were cruelly taken away from him, destroyed by the explosive discovery that shattered his life.
But now, Adrien is rediscovering the pleasures of an party with loved ones, savouring every minute he spends with them.
And that does him a lot of good.
Adrien feels like he is in a cocoon in this apartment where he is surrounded by his most faithful friends. By people who do not judge him, do not harass him with indiscreet questions, do not reproach him for his absence. He laughs, talks, mischievously steals some petits fours from Nino, jokes with Alya, talks video games with Max.
During this blessed moment, he has the illusion of being the carefree young man he always wanted to be.
He feels like all of a sudden, his life is back to being extraordinarily, wonderfully, miraculously normal.
Adrien does not know if his comrades have come together to avoid broaching his father's sensitive subject, but not one alludes to it. He is questioned about his studies, his plans for the future, life in the United States. In return, the young man does his best to try to make up for lost time.
In turn, he questions his friends, discusses with them what they have become since he left them.
Quite tipsy after the drinking contest that Kim and Alix enthusiastically continue, Sabrina cheerfully answers Adrien's questions. The alcohol makes her as talkative as she is unstable, and she desperately clings to Max's shoulder in an attempt to avoid a brutal encounter with the ground. Rocking dangerously on her high heels, she confides to Adrien to have started a business school, without really knowing what she intends to do next. On the other hand, she praises Max's brilliant computer studies, while praising his extraordinary sense of balance.
At one point in the conversation, Marinette joins them.
When Sabrina asks her about her studies, the young woman hesitates. Obviously uncomfortable, she swings from one foot to the other, briefly carries her glass to her lips as if to give herself time to formulate her answer. And for a brief, tiny fraction of a second, she gazes on Adrien. The young man might have thought he had imagined this fleeting blue flash if he hadn't had his eyes turned to his friend at that precise moment.
Suddenly, the evidence hits him.
Styling is a sensitive subject for Adrien. It reminds him of his adolescence. Of his father.
And obviously Marinette guessed it perfectly. For the first time, Adrien realizes that since their reunion, the young woman has never spoken of fashion in front of him.
So, with an encouraging smile on his lips, he initiates the conversation. He asks Marinette about her projects, her studies, her future career. For several tens of minutes, he talks about stylism with the young woman, marvelling at the passion she shows when discussing her favourite subject. Her eyes light up, her hands come alive, as if her whole body was too small to contain all the love she has for this art.
A little later, he moves away from her to join other of his former comrades.
To make up for lost time, again.
He is surprised to learn that Juleka has moved toward photography and that her works are beginning to be seen near Nathaniel's paintings in small local galleries.
"It's not much", affirms the young painter, blushing, while his friend congratulates him on his success. "These are student exhibits, so it's not like we're being exhibited in real galleries. "
At his side, Rose vehemently protests, proclaiming loud and clear that her friends are both great artists and that they largely deserve this tribute to their works.
Adrien listens to her argue with a delighted smile.
This evening is definitely a great idea. He discovers with sincere joy plans for the future, refreshing discussions and complicit remarks. These conversations distract him from his dark thoughts, make him forget his father and Ladybug for a moment.
The hours go by and as dawn approaches, the atmosphere becomes more subdued. More intimate.
Empty glasses litter the table in total anarchy, the catchy music that Nino had selected has been replaced by a soft background sound. The bursts of laughter become rarer, more discreet, piercing only rarely in the middle of the muffled murmur of conversations.
Ivan and Mylène left a little earlier. The young man works as a kitchen help for Alya's mother and his schedules impose a rigorous lifestyle. In a corner of the room, Marinette chats with Alya while gently sipping a drink. Chloé and Nino talk quietly with Nathaniel, Rose and Juleka, while Alix and Kim lie dead drunk on the sofa. Somewhere in the dark, Sabrina and Max are too busy kissing to care about anything else.
Driven by a sudden need for solitude, Adrien walks towards one of the windows of the apartment. He leans down until his forehead meets the welcome coolness of the glass, then silently admires the sleeping city.
Despite the late hour - or rather, the early morning hour - he can see walkers strolling lazily through the streets, illuminated by the warm lights of the capital. In the distance, the night sky is tinged with splendid purple shades, heralding a new day.
Adrien lets his gaze wander, before finally deciding to focus his attention on the building in front of him.
And more precisely, to what is attached to it.
Alya's apartment is ideally located, but it faces a gigantic banner representing the two heroes of Paris. Ladybug's azure blue gaze pierces Adrien. Shakes him to the depths of his soul.
It's just a picture, a pale representation of the vibrant girl his teammate is.
And yet, he feels his heart beating furiously in his chest, as hard as on the first day. He loves her. He loves her, he loves her, and he'll probably never stop loving her.
Adrien lets out a light sigh, and loses himself a little more in the contemplation of the image facing him. He carefully avoids looking at the portrait of the one he once was, but stars at that of his teammate. Admires her dazzling smile, those tiny freckles that dot the tip of her nose, the delicate shadow her hair forms on the side of her face.
Suddenly, a light step draws him from his reflections.
"Hey, dude," Nino says, appearing at his side. "Are you okay? "
Tearing himself away from Ladybug's contemplation, Adrien turns to Nino. His best friend's smile is casual, but his serious tone indicates that his question is anything but superficial.
" Are you okay?"
Adrien could not even count the number of times Chloé and Nino addressed him these words so simple and yet so heavy with meaning. He does not even need to scan the depths of the living room to feel Chloé's gaze weigh on him. With a twinge of the heart mixed with a surge of guilt, the young man wonders if he will ever stop worrying his two friends. They are concerned about him at every moment, watching his crisis of melancholy with as much attention as a mother hen brooding her chicks.
"Yes", sighs Adrien, mechanically passing his hand on the back of his neck. "It's just... just ..."
The young man stops, struggling to find his words.
"Just one of those moments?", his friend adds with a sympathetic smile.
"Yes, that's it," Adrien confirms with relief. "One of those moments. "
Nino comes a little closer to him and places a benevolent hand on his shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it, or do you prefer to stay a little alone?", he asks her softly.
At these words, Adrien feels overwhelmed by a sudden burst of gratitude towards this young man whom he now considers as a brother. He could never have dreamed of a better friend, always ready to reach out to him when he feels bad, to offer him an attentive ear when he thinks he may need to confide.
Nino is an extraordinary person, and Adrien will never thank him enough for being his friend.
"If that's okay with you, I prefer the second option", replied Adrien with a weak smile. "I just need a few minutes. But I'll be fine, I promise. "
Nino gazes at him, as if trying to read his soul. And whatever he found there, the answer seemed to satisfy him.
"Ok", he says, nodding his head. "But if you need anything, don't hesitate. "
"Promise! ", says Adrien, while his friend walks away towards Chloé.
Once again alone, Adrien lost himself again in deep thoughts. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, mechanically taps a few buttons to display a page that he has already reread hundreds, perhaps thousands of times.
The Ladyblog home page.
And more specifically, the message that Ladybug has posted to his attention.
He only discovered it recently, barely a week ago. When his father's betrayal came to light, Adrien cut himself off from his old life. In his desperate attempt to flee his past, he dismissed everything, including the blog so dear to Alya's heart. He no longer consulted it. Not even once, in nearly three long years.
What was the point?
To read articles wondering what happened to Chat Noir?
To look at photos of his defeated father?
To see again and again, written before his eyes, the confirmation that the horrible nightmare that his life had become was indeed real?
Might as well stick a dagger right in the heart. It would have been just as painful, and at least it would have had the merit of finally ending his suffering.
It wasn't until several weeks after his return to France that Adrien finally found the courage to open the familiar Ladyblog page again. And when he discovered Ladybug's message, the shock was as brutal as if he had taken a violent blow to the head.
It took a long time for Adrien to convince himself that his fertile imagination was not playing a cruel trick on him.
But this text signed with the name of the heroine of Paris is real. Clearly, definitely real. And it does come from Ladybug, that's for sure. Adrien knows Alya trustworthy enough not to develop such a crass hoax.
Since discovering this message, Adrien has read it so many times that his teammate's words seem to have printed on his retina. He can recite them by heart, see them without even having to open his eyelids.
"Chat,
I thought it would be better for us not to know. That it would be safer, for you, for me and for our loved ones. It was the worst mistake of my life. That day I lost the best partner I could ever have and one of my most precious friends.
I miss you.
I don't have the words to say how much I miss you.
If you ever read this message, please answer me. Please.
Ladybug. "
Neither Nino nor Chloé spoke to him about these few words. Not once.
Adrien knows he can hardly blame them. Too bad for his anger, too bad for the irrational grudge that rumbles deep inside him.
Nino and Chloé couldn't have known.
Since his flight, talking about Ladybug has always been painful for Adrien. Too many memories, too many regrets that tear her heart to shreds. Fleeing his grief, Adrien has maintained a stubborn silence almost each time the name of his teammate came into the conversation. Over time, his friends eventually stopped bringing up the subject until he himself took the initiative to talk about it.
How could they have known that he knew nothing about this message from his Lady?
Adrien has no right to complain. Chloé and Nino did not betray him, on the contrary. They only respected what he had urged them to do. Respecting his wishes, they didn't say a word, interpreting his silence as a desire not to talk about Ladybug.
Standing still, Adrien stars at the screen of his phone.
Days have passed since he found out about Ladybug's message, but even today he cannot put words to how he feels. At another time, which now seems as distant to him as another life, he would have been happy to see that his Lady cares for him to the point of making such a distress call to find him.
But now it's chaos.
Of course, Adrien is moved. Touched, overwhelmed to the depths of his soul. These few words are proof of the unwavering bond that unites him to his Lady, a testimony to the fact that he has marked her life perhaps as much as she has marked his own.
But there is also this insidious, creeping guilt, which knots his guts and bruises his heart.
Ladybug posted this message a long time ago, and Adrien doesn't dare think about how she felt about his lack of response. How she could have interpreted his silence.
She certainly felt betrayed. Abandoned a second time.
Adrien will certainly never stop blaming himself for not seeing this message in time. For not having responded to it the minute, the very second Ladybug posted it. But the damage is done, and now he feels more lost than ever. What should he do? Answer? What if his Lady had definitely decided to go move on? What if she wanted to never speak to him again?
This hypothesis freezes Adrien to the bone. His chest tightens, as if he's been thrown into a freezing cold bath. The young man mechanically puts his hand to his throat as a familiar feeling of suffocation appears.
Twice.
He let her down, twice.
It's already extraordinary that she still wanted to contact him again after his first escape, so must he really hold on to a second miracle?
But he loves her.
Despite his efforts to escape his past, he has never been able to forget his brilliant teammate. He has never wanted to forget her.
He loves her.
With all his being, with all his soul.
Adrien turns to the window again, ignoring the sounds of the city and the quiet noises of conversations that rise behind his back. Gaze glued on Ladybug's portrait, he rests a hand on the glass, tracing the girl's smile with his fingertips. Each of his heartbeats is like a love song, a hymn to the glory of his Lady.
He loves her.
He thinks of her, of Chat Noir, of what they were, of what he desperately wished them to be. Of his mistakes, of his father, of his flight. Under his head, thoughts swirl, collide, intertwine, quickly giving him a migraine that hurts him to scream. His stomach twists in anguish, his pulse quickens, and in front of him, Ladybug's smile is brighter than ever.
In a fraction of a second, his decision is made.
Beneath his calm exterior, Adrien has always been very impulsive. He follows his heart, not his head.
And his heart screams at him that he can no longer live without Ladybug.
With an almost sickly feverishness, Adrien types words on his phone. Fast, fast, faster, as if he feared some new impulse would make him change his mind. Jaw clenched in concentrations, eyes fixed on his screen, he writes a message with as much ardour as if his life depended on it.
This is certainly the case somewhere.
Adrien's pulse skyrockets and the young man taps, taps again. Then, after a few feverishly written lines, he takes a deep breath.
And press the "Send " button.