The car ride to the gala is silent and tense. Her father attempts to make conversation, all small talk as though she were one of his old acquaintances rather than his daughter. Chloe sets her jaw and stares stubbornly out the window, drawing up every image of teenage angst and rebellion to close herself off.
He gets the message after a few questions, and settles back into the seat awkwardly.
The radio barely plays loud enough to be heard. Chloe ignores it. Ignores everything and tries to breathe through the cement in her lungs and the ache between her ribs.
Her eyes remain stubbornly dry despite how much she wants to break down.
The next few minutes pass in quick heartbeats until they arrive at Intercontinental Paris Le Grand. Already the building was lit up, glowing against the dark sky. Music pours out of the doors, the sweet sounds of a classical orchestra, and mixes with the rumble of conversation. Reporters line up alongside the stairs, snapping pictures of everyone who enters and jotting down names and outfits in their notepads.
Chloe gets out of the car before her father can offer her a hand, and walks ahead of him, head held high as her eyes adjust to the bright flashes of light. Her dress trails along the ground, and she lifts up the hem to avoid stepping on the fabric with her heels. It works to hide the shaking of her hands too, from the sudden onslaught of attention she's managed to avoid the past week.
She walks straight up the stairs, not pausing when she hears her father be pulled aside to speak to a reporter, and ignores any calls of her name.
Inside, Intercontinental Paris Le Grand is sparkling and gold, the picture perfect image of luxury. Men in fitted suits and women in elegant dresses hold flutes of champagne as they chat. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling and the walls seem to be lined with gold. Arrangements of flowers covered every table and lined the room.
Chloe hates it.
Every laugh is fake, every smile used to manipulate. Some people may genuinely like others, but it never stopped being a game of power. She liked it once, but now Chloe's tired and doesn't want anything to do with them.
She walks forward and joins the throng of people, moving through them with years of practice turning her steps light and graceful. A few people try to stop her, grab her attention and drag her into conversation. Chloe nods at them in acknowledgement and keeps going.
She made it in.
She can make it out.
Her father had only told her to go to the gala, after all. He never said she couldn't leave once she arrived.
The lively music of the orchestra changes into something a little slower, but still light and energetic. Chloe escapes to a wall near a table full of finger foods and looks around the room. There's a group of people dancing in front of the orchestra, spinning and swaying with perfectly practiced motions. Her eyes catch a flash of red hair, and suddenly.
Sabrina.
She dances with her father, laughing and enjoying the night. The dance moves them away, hidden by other bodies before Chloe can get a good look, but the brief glimpse leaves her heart pounding in her chest regardless.
"Chloe!"
The sudden voice startles her, and she flinches back as she turns, watching Adrien bound up to her with a smile.
"I wasn't sure if I was going to see you tonight," he says when he reaches her side. His eyes flicker around her face for a moment, concern clear in the quick downturn of his mouth. "You look nice," he adds, because this is Adrien and Adrien is nothing if not polite.
Chloe lets her eyes flick over his form quickly, and says, "You don't look too bad either."
Adrien shifts on his feet as Chloe keeps her eyes glued on the couples dancing, trying not to seek out that flash of red again no matter how much she wants to.
The silence between them is tense, and Chloe is all too aware of every glance he takes of her, of the way he bites his bottom lip with worry, of the way he fiddles with the buttons of his suit. She knows what he wants to say, and the thoughts warring in his head and he tries to drag the words out of his throat. The waiting sets her on edge, tense and prepared to flee to safety.
He doesn't say anything.
Chloe snaps first.
"Just say it," she hisses out, resolutely not looking at him.
Adrien steels himself, straightens his back and angles his shoulders towards her. "Are you okay?" he asks, eyes wide and sincere. "You haven't been acting like yourself lately."
"Haven't been acting like a demon disguised as a brat, you mean?"
He startles at the venom in her voice and blinks. "What? No. I just mean you've been quieter and more withdrawn. You barely looked at anyone during the last week of school and you haven't talked to anyone since you walked out."
Chloe scowls. "Did you ever think that maybe I didn't want to talk to anyone? That maybe I wanted to be alone?"
"Any other time I would have left you alone, but I'm worried about you."
"You can stop worrying. You've seen me and talked to me and everything." Chloe lifts a hand to look at her nails, leaning her weight onto one foot to look as uninterested as possible.
Adrien's too used to that game to let it deter him. "But you never said that you were okay."
Chloe flinches. Damn, she thinks. He wasn't supposed to still be focused on that. But it's always been one of Adrien's best traits; taking care of his friends, pushing them until he knows how to help, even when they don't want anyone helping them.
She honestly can't understand why he would push her that way. He found better friends and left her behind no matter how hard she tried to bring him back.
They weren't friends. Not anymore.
"Sabrina's been really worried too," Adrien adds, and that catches her attention.
"Sabrina?" Chloe repeats, turning to properly look at him.
He nods. "She's been texting me a lot, asking if I had heard from you or if you even read any of my messages. She's been really worried."
Chloe swallows heavily and tries not to cry. If she had known how much it was worrying Sabrina maybe she would have come out of her self-isolated state sooner. She never wanted Sabrina to worry about her. She could barely comprehend the fact that someone so wonderful cared about her, especially when she's been crueler than usual in an attempt to hide her own problems. Sabrina shouldn't care about her at all, yet she set dozens of messages trying to reach Chloe and Chloe can't figure out what's kept an angel by her side for so long.
"I saw the messages," Chloe manages to get out.
"After a week," Adrien counters.
She shrugs. "Does it really matter? I saw them and I'm here now. I'm clearly fine."
"The poems-"
"Forget the poems!" Chloe snaps. "Forget you ever saw them, forget they exist, forget that they have anything to do with me!" She takes a breath and looks away from a gobsmacked Adrien. "Just. Forget it."
"I can't," he says, "They're the most honest things I've ever seen about you and-"
She turns on him, snarling. "And they're private. No one was ever supposed to see them! But you took them and looked at them and you scared me." There are tears in her eyes now, tears that she desperately blinks back. She's wearing mascara; if she cries now, it'll be too noticeable.
"Chloe-"
"Leave it. And leave me alone while you're at it." She turns and storms away, sticking to the walls of the room as she searches for a place to hide. There's a door that leads outside to a patio, and she can almost feel the fresh air and quiet that the door promises.
She pauses with her fingers wrapped around the handle and glances back to where she left Adrien. He's frozen, staring at her with a look of devastation on his face.
I did that, she thinks and feels her heart break and pierce her lungs. Somehow, she had never managed to hurt him in all her years of knowing him. But one night, one moment of all the wrong things said, and she'd broken him.
She leaves when her throat chokes on a sob, escapes outside and away from the many prying eyes of the gala.
The air outside is cool and damp from the rain earlier that day, but the sensation of suffocation stays with her. She's not getting enough air, no matter how many deep breaths she takes. Chloe stumbles into the railing of the patio and grips the metal with her hands hard enough that she feels it bite into her skin.
The cold of the metal grounds her, brings her back from the whirlpool of emotions she was drowning in. Chloe lets out a long, shuddering breath and blinks the last of the tears from her eyes.
Above her, there's a flash of red.
Ladybug.
Chloe feels her breath catch in her throat and can't look away from the graceful figure sailing through the air between the far off stars.
Ladybug comes closer and closer, until she drops the ground suddenly, landing on the other side of the patio.
That's right. Ladybug was invited to the gala. Chloe wants to hit herself for forgetting.
She's staring at the hero, eyes wide, feeling terrified at how beautiful she finds Ladybug, when she turns and faces Chloe.
Ladybug offers a small smile. "Hello," she says, voice sweet and high, "I am late for the gala?"
Chloe swallows and looks away. "It started a while ago, but there's still hours until it ends. You're fine."
"Should I go in from here…?" She gestures at the door leading into the hotel, hesitant and nervous enough that it makes Chloe frown.
"You can," Chloe answers, "But I believe you're expected to make a grand entrance at the actual entrance." When Ladybug doesn't move, Chloe adds, "It's around the building, has stairs and tons of reporters. Can't miss it."
Ladybug steps closer with a frown and asks, "Are you okay? You seem rather upset."
"I'm fine. You can leave now."
"You're usually much more excited to see me."
"There are more people excited to meet you inside the gala," Chloe snaps, voice tight, "You should go and actually meet them."
Ladybug takes another step closer. Chloe leans away, wary and tense; the bright feelings of admiration and - and (she can't say it) - have disappeared under the fear of her once idol discovering her secrets.
Logically, there's no way Ladybug can figure out what Chloe feels for her just with one conversation. But she's a superhero, so logical doesn't fully apply to her.
Chloe feels a little sick under Ladybug's gaze and, just this once, wants her to go away. Ladybug steps closer.
"I snapped at Adrien," Chloe blurts, because that's the one problem she can actually talk about.
Ladybug freezes. "What?"
"He was pushing me to talk and I- I just snapped. As awful as I am, I've never snapped at him before." Chloe swallows heavily, looking up to the stars. "He looked so hurt it made me want to cry."
"Why don't you go apologize to him? Talk things out?"
"I don't know how to."
There's nothing Ladybug can say to that, so she stays silent as she takes in Chloe's words.
An idea hits her. Two birds, one stone. "Can you-" Chloe pauses, gathers her thoughts, and says, "Adrien's a huge fan of yours. If anyone can cheer him up, it's you. Can you go make sure he's okay?"
Ladybug draws herself up, determination lighting her endlessly blue eyes. "Of course," she says. "Take care of yourself, alright Chloe?"
With those parting words, Ladybug swings away on her yo-yo to the front of the hotel, safely away from Chloe, who draws in a deep breath, grateful for the solitude. A snap of cold wind whips around her, bringing goosebumps to her skin. The sleeveless gown she wears doesn't offer any warmth, but a little cold never killed anyone.
A cheer goes up inside the hotel.
Ladybug must have made her entrance. Chloe doesn't look.
The people inside chatter loudly, the indistinct voices merging together and overpowering the soft sounds of the orchestra. There are a few cheers mixed in from the louder, shameless fans of Ladybug.
(That was her, once, standing in the crowd shouting her love for Ladybug. That had been her, once, when love meant something else entirely.)
Underage drinking is nothing new to her, but Sabrina had always turned down her alcohol and Chloe followed afterwards with some sense of not wanting to be seen as less than perfect. But right then, with no Sabrina or Adrien or Ladybug, all Chloe wants is to drink until she can't remember who she is anymore.
She'd only be able to get away with it once before her father watches what she drinks to make sure she doesn't tarnish the Bourgeois name.
Chloe sighs and lets her head fall, pressing it against the railing at letting the cold of the metal soothe her.
She stays there, eyes closed and finding peace in the quiet of the night and the loneliness it brings. Her thoughts are miraculously quiet for once and all she wants is to stay there forever.
The door opens behind her, and a timid voice calls out, "Chloe?"
She lifts her head and the sound and turns to face Sabrina, who hurries to her side, hands twisting with worry.
"What are you doing out here?" she asks. "Aren't you cold?"
Chloe shrugs. "It's nice out."
"Are you okay?"
There's the question everyone keeps asking her. Chloe closes her eyes and counts to ten, trying to keep her cool, then turns to meet Sabrina's eyes.
Her voices catches for a moment, in the back of her throat, before she says, "Just tired. Been better though."
Sabrina offers a comforting smile and Chloe holds the memory of it close to her heart. "Do you want to me get you anything to drink?"
"No. Just. Stay with me."
Chloe wants to shove her phone into her mouth and choke back all the emotions that rise up in her. Saying such an obvious thing; it's a wonder that no one's caught on the the wrongness inside her. It's unusual for her to say such things, but Sabrina doesn't think anything of it, just hums in a way that doesn't tell Chloe anything, and stays by her side.
"The gala's really nice," Sabrina says, looking out to the Parisian lights.
"Sure," Chloe says, too lost in curve of Sabrina's lips and the moonlight on her cheeks.
"Ladybug came."
"I know. She talked to me before she went in."
Sabrina turns to her, excited and smiling. "Really?! What did she say, how was she? I'm so jealous I wish I could talk to Ladybug!"
She leans closer to Chloe, but Chloe can't find it in her to move away. "Just asked me if she was late for the gala," she answers.
Sabrina sighs wistfully. "Still, it must have been incredible! Talking to a hero. What I wouldn't give to spend time with her. Or dance with her!"
"I didn't think you'd like dancing."
"Oh! Well, I don't do it much," Sabrina answers, flustered, "But it's fun! I danced a bit with my dad, but I wish someone else would dance with me, you know?"
Chloe absolutely hates her lack of self-control when the next words out of her mouth are, "Dance with me then."
Silence stretches between them for a few terrifying heartbeats, and Chloe can feel her throat close and her lungs wither with the oncoming rejection, disbelieve, disgust-
"Really?" Sabrina's voice is quiet. She looks away, bashful, and worries her teeth on her lower lip in a motion Chloe struggles to look away from. "Would you really dance with me?"
"No one else is out here to dance, are they?"
"Guess not," Sabrina giggles, and grabs one of Chloe's hands. "Let's dance then!"
There's a smile pulling at her lips and Chloe can't find the strength to push it down. She lays a hand on Sabrina's waist, light and barely touching, still tense with nerves as Sabrina shuffles closer and starts swaying them in time to the muffles music of the orchestra. Her green eyes stay locked on Chloe's face, smiling softly. Chloe swallows her heart back into her ribcage and resists the urge to pull Sabrina closer.
What are you doing, a poisonous voice in her mind whispers.
What are you doing. Anyone can see you. Do you want them to know what a freak you are?
Shut up, she thinks back, Let me have this. Just for one night, let me have this.
They'll know.
Chloe feels sick, feels her hands begin to shake, feels the phantom hands wrap around her throat and begin to choke her. They've only danced to one song, but it hurts so much Chloe pulls away as soon as the music fades out.
"Chloe?" Sabrina asks, worried, as her hands drop back to her sides.
"I need to go," she whispers, and disappears back into the gala.
Bodies press against her, and some voices call out greetings to her. All she can hear is her heart beating too loud, loud enough for the whole of Paris to hear, and escapes back outside, phone out and calling a cab.
They know, the voice whispers again.
This time, Chloe can't fight back the tears that spring up.
Her head is filled with thoughts of Ladybug, and the feeling of Sabrina's body beneath her hands, and Adrien's broken expression. She's never had a worse night out.
She freezes before she turns off her phone, and sends off one last message.
To Adrien: Sorry.