It feels so surreal waking up to Sabrina's good morning texts again.

The empty space in her life that was Sabrina's place isn't so crushingly blank; though she's still not here, waiting for Chloe with a smile, it feels like the distance between them is bridged by a single, feeble string that's keeping them from drifting away from each other. But after a summer of silence and missing her with every fiber of her being, Chloe is going to take everything Sabrina is willing to give her and never let go.

She sends back her usual "Morning", then heads for the bathroom to prepare for her first day at lycee.

It's supposed to be a big change. Teachers went on about how lycee will be harder, is when they should start thinking about what they want for their future, doling out warnings about irresponsible teenagers drinking too much and being too cool for protected sex, and so much more about how lycee will be different. Media tells her that lycee will be the best years of her life, with romance and drama and growing up. Lycee is everything, the period of people's lives that they remember the most.

(She remembers her father once talking about being on the school's debate team and writing speeches; it's how he became mayor. She thinks she can recall her mother mentioning an old lycee friend, but the memory is distant enough that Chloe thinks it might be a dream.)

Here is what she knows: people don't change that quickly.

Chloe has been changing all summer. Her change began with Ladybug much earlier in the school year. But she has been first running from that change, then working towards it. Chloe is different. She very much doubts anyone else is.

Here is what she knows: others will always believe the worst in you.

They know her as spoiled, as cruel, as a bully with too much money to care about other people. They know her as the one who has caused the most akumas, who ruins everyone's day by walking into the room, by setting people up for failure through any means possible just to make herself look better. No matter how much Chloe has changed, they will only see this, because the world will believe that the worst in people is all that exists.

Here is what she knows: nothing will change.

She is out to three people, and only one will go to lycee with her. She has no friends besides Adrien, and he will leave her for Nino. She will be just as scared and lonely as she was in college, and she will deserve it.

Nothing is going to change. It never does.

But, Chloe thinks as she looks into the mirror, I've changed. I have to let that be enough.

Here, now, at the end of summer vacation, it's clear to see just how much she's changed. The bags under her eyes aren't so dark or severe. Her hair isn't so dull anymore. Her cheeks aren't sunken in anymore. Her arms aren't so thin and boney; all her days working in Takahogi's flower show has put muscle on her arms and legs.

Chloe doesn't look like a skeleton anymore.

She looks healthy. Alive.

(She looks like her mother.)

With a shaky breath, Chloe steels herself. She puts on her makeup with care, relearning how she did it after a summer of being too tired to put in the effort. She makes sure to change enough that she doesn't see her mother looking out the mirror.

Satisfied, Chloe pulls on the outfit she prepared the night before; a simple yellow blouse and jeans. She's ditched her heels for a pair of white flats - they're much easier to run in and she has no doubt that this first day of school will bring forth an akuma. Besides, she's gotten used to flats and sneakers after working in the flower shop.

On her desk, her phone buzzes.

.

From Sabrina: Heading out now! Good luck on your first day!

.

Sabrina is as bright and cheerful as usual. Chloe can't help but smile, some of her nerves fading away.

.

To Sabrina: You too, if anyone messes with you send them to me so I can beat them up

.

From Sabrina: Lol will do! Text me at lunch so we can talk about how our classes are!

.

To Sabrina: Sure

To Sabrina: Have fun today

.

As tradition dictates, Chloe's father is waiting in the limo for her. It's the only time they share a car when not going to an event of some sort. It's the only time they really see each other outside of his work. Chloe knows she should cherish the time he spends with her, but it's so little compared to the care Takahogi has shown her that all Chloe can feel is muted bitterness, knowing things will never change but still wishing they would.

No matter how old she got or how many things changed, Chloe always feels like she's seven again, desperate for her father's affection and clinging on despite the cold silence and neglect she's given.

"Good morning, Chloe," her father says as she enters the limo. It's the same voice he uses to greet visiting dignitaries and diplomats. She hates it.

When she slides into her seat, bag at her feet, and says nothing, he shifts, visibly uncomfortable in the tense silence.

"So," he tries again, ignoring Chloe's eye roll, "Excited for your first day at lycee?"

"Sure," Chloe says, voice flat.

"I was excited for my first day," he says. His voice becomes softer, more wistful, and Chloe can't help but turn and look, listen for what he'll say next.

(She remembers, suddenly, sitting on her mother's lap as her father told stories of his childhood, eyes growing distant and voice going soft in a way that always made her mother kiss him.)

"I even had my parents help me pick out my outfit," he chuckles, a fond smile on his face, "I still looked awkward, though, as most teenagers do. But I felt like a superstar and carried that confidence for the rest of the day. Then I went home and realized my fly was down the whole day."

Chloe can't help the disbelieving laugh that jumps out of her mouth. Her father has always been a good storyteller. She'd forgotten how good.

"The whole day?" she asks.

He nods solemnly. "The whole day. God knows how many people laughed at me."

It hits her then, just how much she's missed her father. Not the mayor, not the uncaring hand that gives her credit cards and material gifts to keep her out of the way. But her father who tells stories and laughs at himself and smiles more than Santa.

She wants to ask for more, keep this going, tell him her fears and worries about lycee. She wants to stay in this limo for as long as she can, listening to her father and feeling like she has a family. She wants to-

"Don't be like me, Chloe. Go in there and show the school that you are a Bourgeois and you are as close to perfect as any person can be."

Oh.

Of course.

What did you expect, you dumbass, she thinks, He's never really cared before. He's not going to start now.

That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It does. It hurts so much.

Chloe had thought her heart had broken enough that there was nothing left to shatter, but the heaviness in her chest says differently. She really had believed that her father cared for her, that her father saw her as his daughter and not a chess piece in his political game. She really thought that this time would be different.

She never learns.

"Fine," Chloe says, turning away and closing herself off again.

Nothing will change. Her father is no exception.

The rest of the ride is in silence.

.

.

.

Chloe doesn't say goodbye when she leaves. Her father doesn't stay to see her enter lycee. The limo drives away the moment the door is shut and Chloe doesn't look back.

She never does.

Already, people are in groups, upperclassmen and new students catching up with friends. To the side of the stairs leading to the main entrance is Alya and Nino, no doubt waiting for Marinette and Adrien. There is no one else she recognizes outside. With her heart in her throat, Chloe walks past them, feeling her blood run cold when then glance up at her.

But they don't snap at her, push her away, nothing. They just go back to talking to each other and ignore Chloe.

She climbs the stairs and enters the school, trying in vain to still the shaking of her hands.

Nothing has happened. Nothing will happen. She'll be fine, despite what the anxiety rolling in her gut says.

The familiar masks begins to slip into place: shoulders back, chest out, spine straight, looking just a little bit up and look no one in the eye. Her face smooths out to be completely expressionless, closed off from the rest of the students. In just a moment, the stone cold monarch her father created from her rises to the surface and takes over.

Chloe wishes she could hate it, but it makes her feel safe; her own fucked up version of a security blanket.

Lycee determines the future. Chloe knows her father wants her to focus on economics and business, but he hadn't been with her when she chose her specialization. It's her life, and her choice, and Chloe had chosen the L series, the literary studies that would let her explore writing a little more. And so her first class is French literature, and her following classes for the week are the required math, science, and geography classes, as well as the Latin classes she choose to take.

Every decision is a strike back at her father, but by now, Chloe doesn't know how to live any other life.

Waking up and not dying everyday is a fight in itself. She's good at surviving, even if that's all she's good at.

Chloe picks the seat closest to the door. She only recognizes Juleka and Mylene in the classroom. The rest are strangers she has no desire to talk to.

On her glass throne, Chloe sits alone, desperately wanting the day to be over. More students slowly trickle in. The seat besides her remains empty. She doesn't let herself wish that Sabrina was with her, no matter how much she wants to. She just stares into the bored and wills the rest of the world away.

So of course the universe decides to mess with her even more. The last student in, after the teacher, is Marinette.

And the only seat that is open in the one next to Chloe.

Great, Chloe thinks, Now I can have an entire year next to someone who hates me and proves how worthless I am.

The first day of lycee officially begins. What a day it turns out to be.