Adrien

Dinner had never been an intimate affair. At least, not since his mother disappeared. Most nights, Adrien sat alone in the dining hall without a soul to enjoy his meal with.

Over half of Paris envied his life of luxury, after all he was the son of one of the most renowned fashion designers. He had it all, a personal chauffeur, private lessons, and of course, the best of everything that money could buy. This elite staff obviously included his very own chef. Yes, Jacque spent every hour of the day toiling in the kitchen preparing the most heavenly of delicacies. But what the people of Paris didn't know was that even world class cuisine tasted bland when dining alone.

Tonight however, Gabriel Agreste had decided to have his beef bourguignon and pinot noir at the dinner table instead of the office. It was a rare occurrence, but not so uncommon that it caught Adrien off guard. Meals with his father weren't much different than meals without. On the rare occasion that Gabriel did make an appearance at dinner, he mainly focused on his tablet, most likely approving designs or responding to emails for his fashion brand. One might think that father-son meals were supposed to be a time to bond. But no. Apparently spending an hour away from his work and giving undivided attention to his son was something Gabriel Agreste was incapable of doing.

Adrien knew this fact a little too well. While his father had never been one to express his feelings openly, his inability to place family before work seemed to have worsened since Emilie disappeared. Adrien couldn't possibly imagine how much his father was hurting, so for the most part, he cut him some slack. However, it didn't make their dinners together any less awkward.

"So Adrien," his father began, not bothering to make eye contact, "did you have a good day?"

"Yes Father, today I-"

"That's good, my son. I'm glad you had a good day today." Gabriel picked up his wine glass and, with a slight rotation of the wrist, softly swirled the crimson liquid around in it's chalice before taking a small sip, all without breaking his focus on the screen in front of him.

"Yeah. . . me too," Adrien sighed, picking at a carrot with his fork. This evening's conversation had gone exactly as each and every one before. What was the point of eating together if they weren't even going to talk to each other?

After that very short conversation, the two sat in silence, Gabriel, never letting his eyes leave his tablet, and Adrien, never letting his vegetables leave his plate.

He didn't have an appetite, especially after today's events. The whole thing was just too much to process. Just when he had gotten his mind off that stupid amulet, something else just as mind-boggling had happened. That moment in the convenience store played over and over in his mind like a broken record, the memory stained forever in his conscience.

Attempting to calm his mind, Adrien forced his thoughts wander back to the events at the museum. After all, this is where everything had started. Though, there one inquiry that had tugged at the back of his mind since the field trip. How was it possible that he knew absolutely nothing of his own ancestry? Never once had his father told him about his grandparents. His only family that he ever talked to was his cousin Felix and his aunt Amelie. But beyond that, he knew nothing. And then there was the strange incident with the amulet. . . Were they connected? He needed answers and the only way to do that was to ask.

"Father," Adrien began cautiously.

"Yes, my son?" Gabriel responded casually, still not drifting his eyes away from the screen.

"Are you. . ." He paused for a moment. Did he really want to chance possibly enraging his father? He knew more than anyone how cold his father could become when provoked.

Adrien lifted his hand to his cheek once more, knowing fully that where his fingers touched should be a huge scab. He felt his breath grow uneven, remembering that moment in the convenience store bathroom, reliving that earth-shattering moment when the impossible had in fact happened. He needed to know what was going on with him.

"Speak up, Adrien. I can't hear you when you're mumbling."

"Yes, Father. I'm sorry." He paused take a deep breath, hoping to calm down, but instead it only brought more fear. Finally, he mustered up the courage to push the sentence out. "What I asked was, are you. . . hiding anything from me?"

Gabriel shifted in his seat, appearing just as relaxed as he had been the entire meal, eyes still on the tablet, his disposition unchanged. "Of course not son. And even if I was, I hope you know that it would only be to protect you."

Relief flooded Adrien's body. He felt his pulse slow and his breath calm. He knew he could trust his father. Even if there were secrets his father was keeping, they were probably kept for good reason. After all, Adrien would be a huge hypocrite if he got upset at his father for having secrets when he himself was keeping his own.

"Of course, Father. It's just that when we went to museum yesterday, I realized that I know more about world history than I do about Agreste history, especially after going to that supernatural artifacts exhibit and learning about vampires and-"

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room. Gabriel Agreste sat in his seat for a moment, eyes wide, mouth open in shock, red wine dripping from his now empty hand.

"Father, are you okay?" Adrien immediately hopped from his seat while simultaneously grabbing the napkin in his lap and rushed to his father's side.

Gabriel quickly regained his composure and set his tablet down on the table in order to begin drying himself off. "I'm fine, Adrien. Just held the glass too loosely. I'll pay better attention next time."

"I'm glad you're not hurt, let me help you clean this up." Adrien knelt down to pick up the pieces of shattered glass. He unfolded his napkin to begin picking up the larger wine-stained shards and placed them on the white cloth, slowing turning it blood-red.

"Don't touch those son," his father warned, "you'll cut your hand. Let me call for Nathalie. She will help me clean everything up, you just focus on finishing your dinner."

"Okay, Father. But, just let me get this really large one," Adrien replied as he grabbed one last shard.

"No Adrien, I mean right-"

"Ow!" But it was too late. The glass had sliced his finger, blood already beading out.

"Adrien, when I tell you not to do something, I need you to listen to me. Now go to your room and clean that up. I'll have Nathalie deliver your meal to your room. You'll be finishing your dinner there."

"Yes, Father" was all Adrien could say. Then without a word, he slowly picked himself up and walked to the door. But instead of leaving the room, he stopped.

Adrien turned to his father, a sudden idea popping into his mind.

"Father?" He began slowly.

Gabriel looked to meet his son's eyes. "What is it, Adrien?"

"Since you said you're not hiding anything from me, how come I know nothing about my grandparents or my ancestry?"

Adrien watched as his father took a deep breath. It was clear this was not a topic he was expecting to discuss tonight.

"Well Adrien," he began slowly, "there's nothing worth knowing."

Nothing worth knowing or something to hide? "Could you at least tell me about my grandparents?" Adrien pleaded.

"Like I said, Adrien. There's nothing to tell."

Adrien felt the anger build up inside him. It was as if something inside him flipped. He was tired of it. Tired of the lies, tired of feeling left out, tired of being bossed around by a man who wouldn't tell him anything. "There's nothing to tell or you wont tell me, Father?" His voice rose. "You just said if you had secrets, they were for my own good. So what won't you tell me?"

"Adrien!" Gabriel stood up, banging the table in the process. "I won't have you talking to me like this! Go to your room! Now!" his voice boomed. He pointed towards the door. His eyes were fierce, brows furrowed.

"Okay," Adrien responded non-chalantly, daring his father to yell at him more.

But Gabriel said nothing. Instead, he held his icy stare.

So without another word, Adrien left the dining room, walked through the house, into his bedroom.

Upon entering his room, Adrien slammed the door, let out a loud scream of frustration, and flopped on his bed. Now staring at the ceiling, he let out a heavy sigh. What had gotten into him? He never talked back to his father. Maybe he was just grumpy from not sleeping.

Closing his eyes, Adrien took a few deep breaths. He felt a whole lot better.

It was then that he remembered his wound. Now would be his chance to confirm whether or not what had happened to his cheek was real.

Adrien rolled across his bed and walked over to the bookshelf to pull out a small first aid kit. He hadn't kept one until Nino, Kim, Ivan, and Max started a party in his room one afternoon and somehow half the men in Paris joined in. It was that day he learned most people don't have common sense and it was best to keep bandages on stand by incase another guest thought it was a good idea to try playing basketball on skateboards.

Using his uninjured hand, Adrien opened the kit, pulled out an antiseptic wipe, and ripped open the packaging with his teeth. Carefully, he applied pressure on his finger with the wipe.

"Now for the moment of truth," he murmured to himself. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he had never gotten injured during his fight with Pop Quiz. Maybe, just maybe, the wound on his cheek wasn't there because it had never existed. Maybe he had hit his head a little too hard during battle. With how tired he was, it wouldn't be hard to imagine something crazy like that.

Holding his breath, Adrien slowly removed the wipe from his finger. There was no evidence of the cut he had gotten only minutes before. Just like the scrape, it was if it had never existed.

There was no question about it. Adrien needed answers and the only place to get them was at that museum. After all, it seemed like his father wouldn't tell him anything.

A brief knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Nathalie had arrived with the rest of his dinner. Adrien gestured for her to put it next to his globe on the cabinet next to his bed, hiding his hand from her sight.

"Your father and I will be in the office if you need us. I'll come back after a while to retrieve your plate," she said as she placed the tray on the cabinet, but instead of heading straight for the door, she paused a moment and made a few audible sniffs before hurrying back towards the door. She had obviously caught a whiff of Plagg's cheese collection.

Adrien chucked. If only she knew.

"I can return it myself when I'm done. Thank you though, Nathalie." He smiled at her innocently.

"If that is what you wish," she responded before walking toward the door. As she reached for the doorknob, Nathalie stopped and gave him a warm, almost maternal smile. There was a tinge of melancholy in her eyes. "If only Emilie were here to see you now. I'm sure she would be proud of how much you've grown in the past year." And without another word, she left.

With Nathalie gone, Adrien relaxed. She had just unknowingly given him an opportunity to sneak out for as long as he wanted and his father would never notice.

Adrien packed the first aid kit up and slid it back on the shelf. "Alright Plagg, we're going to that museum."

Plagg emerged from his cheese cabinet, a look of concern plastered all over his face. "Adrien, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean . . . think about what happened yesterday. Just forget about it and eat some delicious cheese!" Plagg quickly grabbed a small cut of cheese and waived it in Adrien's face, allowing it's pungent aroma to invade his nostrils. "I'll even let you have some of my home-made camembert!"

"No Plagg," Adrien retorted, taking a step away from the awful smell. He began fanning the air in front of him, hoping to disperse the nauseating odor. "I don't want any of your stinky cheese. I want to go to the museum."

"No you don't, Adrien. You just want to sit at home and enjoy your nice dinner." Plagg floated over to the plate. His little nubs wafted the aroma to his nose. "Mmm. . . Beef Bourguignon. One of your favorites!" Plagg grabbed the spoon off the tray and brought it to Adrien. "Are you sure you don't want to eat?"

Adrien glared at Plagg. He knew fully what the little kwami was doing. "You know something don't you?"

Plagg shook his head furiously and crossed his arms, almost smacking Adrien in the face with the spoon. "What are you talking about? I don't know anything?"

"Fine," Adrien growled, "if you wont tell me anything, then I will find out myself."

"But Adrien-"

"Plagg, Claws Out!"

As soon as Adrien felt the leather suit of his alter-ego envelop him, he thrusted his window open and ripped his pole from his belt loop. Without so much as a thought, he catapulted himself out the window and toward the direction of the history museum.