Feeling Lucky
There's a chance, one of us will give in soon
I could ask, but what's an answer gonna prove?
I try to get mad, but the fever drops
My heart can't break 'cause the beating stops
Yeah, suck that lucky feeling right outta me.
A week after the band returned from touring, Luka received another email from the recording studio. It had been a chore to return to work, to go back to his life after the amazing experience that had been touring. He didn't have much choice though but to continue with his normal life when the studio had told them they'd be in touch and sent them on their way. Since he'd been back, he hadn't done anything but work. To even go on tour to begin with, he had traded away every shift he could, and call in every favor. Now he was making up for his coworkers' generosity tenfold.
So when Record Star Studios finally called him on his first day off since returning, Luka was ecstatic. None of the band had gotten their hopes up, they were mostly content to return to their normal lives, even if he could see the disappointment that simmered just under the surface. But not him. Luka had refused to give up hope, waiting with bated breath each day. And it finally seemed to be paying off.
Standing outside the building they had auditioned in, Luka tried to get his nerves and excitement in check. Tried to temper his expectations. Whatever they offered, he knew the band would take it in a heartbeat, but it wouldn't be wise to get a picture in his head that might not line up with reality. One more steadying breath, and the blue-haired musician made his way into the building. He was a little surprised to find a blonde woman reading at a desk that hadn't been there when he had come in last time.
"What can I do for you?" She didn't even look up from the magazine, sounding for all the world like she would rather be doing literally anything else.
"Uh, my name's Luka Couffaine. I'm here to see M Damocles."
Without a word, the secretary pointed him down the hallway. The opposite one he had taken when he'd been here to audition. With a murmured thanks that she didn't bother acknowledging, Luka set off down into the building. As he went, he peered curiously into each of the rooms he passed, trying to see through the frosted glass on the doors. The last door at the very end of the hallway had Pallas Damocles chipped into the effect on the door.
Luka knocked on the glass, trying to project the confidence he wished he was feeling. He listened to the sound of whoever was inside hastily shoving papers around and slamming drawers shut before they started shuffling over to the door. Luka waited patiently until M Damocles inched the door open just far enough to peek through.
"What do you want!" Once the man got a good look at who was waiting on the other side of the door, he pulled it the rest of the way open, frantically gesturing Luka inside. Luka squeezed his way past him and into the office, watching in confusion as Damocles gave the hallway a once over before closing and locking the door, muttering about uppity secretaries the whole time.
Damocles turned back around, all smiles, and gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Luka hesitated a moment before shoving the pile of folders - some of the many around the office - to the back before perching on the edge of the chair. He waited quietly while Damocles began shuffling through the papers on his desk before extracting a folder and handing it over to Luka.
"Take a look!"
Luka took it and flipped it open, eyes scanning down the typed words before he stilled, gaze snapping but to the top to re-read it. "T-this is?"
Damocles nodded enthusiastically, "That's right, the studio would like to offer your band a contract. All the information you need is inside the folder." He gestured to the manila folder in Luka's shaking hands. "All of you will have to sign, so take it home and look it over, and return it once you're done." Damocles leaned back in his chair for a moment, a troubled look on his face. "There is just. . . One condition though."
Luka's eyes snapped up to stare at the executive, an unsettled feeling curling in his gut. Conditions were never a good thing.
"The name has to change."
The feeling in Luka's stomach unraveled. That wasn't even a problem for him personally, and he really doubted any of the others besides maybe Juleka would care. Kitty Section had been Rose's choice, and she was no longer even a part of the band.
Luka nodded to indicate his agreeability with the condition before his focus fell back to the contract. He flipped to the next page, eyes widening at the advanced compensation they would each be receiving. Continuing on, his attention zeroed in on the section about wardrobe and how the studio would provide them. It said that seamstresses on staff would prepare all the clothing for their shoots, tours, and events as a measure to avoid paying royalties to clothing companies.
"I also have a condition, M Damocles." Luka had to tread carefully. True, the studio wanted to sign Kitty Section, but how much leverage they would have in negotiations would depend largely on just how big of a future the studio saw for them. "This part about wardrobe, here?" He held up the paper, pointing to the relevant section. "I know who I want to dress us. The woman who dressed us for the audition."
Damocles tapped his pen on the desk in an uneven rhythm, not looking happy about having negotiations of any kind. "Look, we have seamstresses on staff already, surely one of them would be-"
"Pay her out of my starting cut."
Everyone's advance had been laid out, it was more than Luka made even in a year of work. He could easily pay Marinette a good wage and still have enough to take home and not even notice a change in his finances. Only this time he'd be making music, his dream. He wanted to try and help Marinette achieve hers. And she was never going to get Gabriel's attention working at some wedding boutique.
Damocles was quiet for a few minutes, continuing to tap away at his wooden desk. Finally, the man sighed and held out his hand to shake, which Luka did with zero hesitation. "Fine. She'll start the first year on your payroll. If at the end of the tour I like her work, we can revisit signing her under the label." He didn't look impressed though.
Luka thanked him before agreeing to drop off the contract with the updated name as soon as possible. He left the building, barely paying attention to his surroundings as he continued reading through the information, thinking about what he had to do now. Fishing out his phone, Luka dialed his sister quickly.
"Hey, can you guys all meet me at the bar? It's important."
Kitty Section was gathered around a small table at the same bar they had come to after the audition to celebrate. All sets of eyes were on Luka as he dug in his bag before dropping the plain manila folder on the table in front of them all. He hadn't told him why he wanted to see them all, just that it was important. Luka wanted a genuine reaction to the news. The rest of the band leaned forward when Marc flipped the folder open, each jostling each other to get a look at what was inside.
"Holy fuck, are you serious!" Alix screamed after the first few sentences, being quickly shushed by the rest of the table.
Marc looked ready to faint, his face going slack with each subsequent line he absorbed. Juleka just looked contemplative. For a split second, Luka was worried. Would his sister decline so she could finish out her schooling? There were only a few more months left before she graduated, but doing both school work and recording an album would be taxing. He felt ashamed for not even thinking of her in his joy over the news.
"This seems too good to be true." The purple haired bassist finally said, pushing the papers back towards her brother.
Luka snatched the contract back up, and began flipping through the different pages and pointing out all the interesting bits to them. First was the pay -
"Holy shit, that's a lot of money." Marc whispered to no one in particular.
They all expressed excitement at recording an album, even if none of them besides Luka and Juleka had any idea what that entailed. Just the fact that they were going to be able to do it was exciting enough. The tour also brought another round of excitement. Everyone had enjoyed being an opening act for Adrien Agreste, for the experience if nothing else.
"Are we going to have to choose our own opening band too?" Alix asked in interest.
"Okay but if we do, can we actually be there to pick ourselves?" Marc brought up a good point. While the band would never disparage the opportunity they had been given, there was no question that their style of music didn't really line up with what Adrien had been doing. All of them wanted to avoid that situation.
"We'll have to let a lawyer look it over first," Luka said, slipping the contract back into his bag so he didn't lose it. "I guess we can ask dad's," he continued with a sigh. He wasn't looking forward to bringing this new development to him, but at least now they could say they had made it on their own merit and not any lingering fame of his.
"You can do that alone." Juleka said with more venom then she showed most things in her life.
Luka smiled indulgently at his sister. "That's fine, you can do something for me while I do." At her questioning look, he continued, "I'll tell you about it when we leave."
Marc finally shook himself out of his stupor, leaving forward, his body nearly vibrating with excitement. "This is awesome! Did you see all those zeroes? I can quit my job!" They all could, but Luka also seriously doubted Marc would stop helping Nathaniel out with his own art business though. "I can't believe they want to sign Kitty Sec-"
"That's another thing," Luka interrupted, looking at them each in turn. "They want us to rename the band." Predictably, Juleka was the only one who looked upset at this fact, but thankfully she kept it to herself.
As a band they deliberated amongst themselves for over a half hour about a new name, but were unable to come up with anything. Alix dropped out of the conversation entirely after only five minutes, stating that she didn't care what the band was called, she was just there to play drums. It took a little longer for Juleka to bow out as well until it was just Luka and Marc bouncing ideas back and forth. Both men fell silent before Luka finally had a stroke of inspiration.
"How about La Mar en Été?" He didn't like the look Juleka instantly shot him. He was beyond grateful when she kept her mouth shut, for now at least. He had no doubts that she would be all over him as soon as she felt like giving him the third degree. Luckily, no one else seemed to notice their stare off, or seemed to make the connection with the name.
Marc, being the only one who even cared anymore, agreed with the name change. Though Luka was pretty sure that was because they had been deliberating for awhile now and everyone just wanted to move on with their day. One by one they stood, saying their goodbyes and leaving until it was only Juleka and himself standing outside the bar.
Luka dug out the crumpled receipt from the bar, hesitated, and then quickly wrote down a number before he could second guess it. He handed it over to Juleka without a word, who just raised her eyebrows behind the curtain of her hair at the number written there. Easily half of what his starting advance would have been. But sometimes in life you had to take chances.
"Okay, so I got them to agree to hire Marinette as our stylist." He wasn't about to tell her, or anyone, that the money was coming directly out of his pocket and not the studios. Hopefully when all was said and one, it wouldn't matter and she'd be paid on her own merit from them.
He explained the details of what Juleka would be doing, "I need you to take the offer to Marinette while I visit dad. That," he pointed to the paper he had just handed her, "is her yearly pay." Luka grasped at his sister's shoulders, trying to convey just how important this was to him without coming right out and saying it. "Please make sure she agrees. I'll have dad's lawyer draw up a contract." He gave Juleka one final shake for emphasis before letting go.
"They're being awfully generous with a starting seamstress," Juleka mumbled. Luka's lips flattened into a thin line, unwilling to explain just what was going on. His sister didn't say anything else after observing him for a minute. "I'll text you when I'm done." She waved, and then turned to head towards the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Luka breathed a sigh of relief and sent out a silent prayer that now Marinette would just accept.
Luka started up at the ostentatious mansion his father called home. He always hated coming here, especially when all it did was remind him that Juleka and he had grown up on a cramped boat because their father was never around. It didn't matter that it was what their mother had wanted. Or that it had been an adventure as kids until they got older and the space got smaller. They had been lucky to see their dad once a year. Usually around Christamas when he tried to bribe them with more gifts than would even fit on the boat to make up for his lack of parenting. They didn't even share a last name, their parents had never married. The only thing they had in common was their love of music and colored hair, though Luka and Juleka both tended to be much more low key than either of their parents.
With a sigh, knowing he was going to hate this whole experience but needing to get it over with, Luka pressed the buzzer attached to the closed gate. After a moment, static crackled from one of the speakers before a female voice came over the intercom.
"Jagged Stone's residence, how can I help you?"
Luka turned to the left and waved to the little camera that was slowly turning its way towards him to take a peek. "Hey Penny, I'm here to see my dad about something." The gate opened, and he began making his way up the long drive. The door opened before he even finished climbing the steps to reveal Penny, Jagged's longtime assistant and girlfriend.
"Oh Luka! It's so good to see you again!" Penny swept him up into a hug, which he gladly returned. Luka had always liked Penny, even if Jagged had broken off things with his mom, whatever it was they had had, shortly before she died. He didn't hold it against Penny though Jagged could be quite the handful, and she could handle him far better than Anarka ever could.
"Hey, Penny. It's good to see you too. Do you know if dad's around? And hopefully M Dubois as well?" M Dubois was the family's lawyer. Luka had only met him a couple of times in the years he had been representing his dad.
Penny started leading him through the winding mansion to what he knew was his dad's office, a hilarious oxymoron as Luka was sure Jagged had never done paperwork a day in his life. "You're in luck," she told him. "M Dubois is actually here going over some licensing deals with your dad right now." They came to the double doors and Penny knocked on them. The voices inside died down, and she pulled it open to usher him inside, closing it behind him without coming in herself.
M Dubois smiled at him in greeting, obviously recognizing him, but otherwise saying nothing. Jagged however, was out of his chair in seconds, rushing over to descend on his son. "Oh Luka! Why didn't you tell me you were coming over?!" The rock star cried. Luka tensed to avoid being lifted and twirled around as Jagged was wont to do, but he was far too lanky these days to pick up his gym-going son.
"I'm actually here to see M Dubois," Luka said, nodding to the lawyer. Jagged frowned at him, looking hurt that Luka hadn't come to actually see him. Luka offered him a strained smile before extracting himself from his dad's hold. He walked to M Dubois side and settled in the other chair facing the desk before pulling out the manila folder holding the contract. It was now or never.
"Kitty Section got offered a contract-" Instantly Jagged was screeching in joy, so loud that Penny barged into the office to see what the commotion was. "- and I was hoping you could take a look over it for me."
Both Luka and M Dubois ignored Jagged practically weeping on Penny's shoulder, blubbering something about how his little babies had finally made it. M Dubois took the contract and gave the first page a cursory glance. "Sure, Luka. Who offered you the contract?"
"Record Star Studio." This proclamation had Jagged gasping in outrage, he started lamenting to Penny that they hadn't even signed with his label. Luka felt his cheek twitch in annoyance. There was a reason he rarely came over; his dad's over the top attitude quickly grated on every last nerve he had. Juleka was damn lucky he needed her for something else. "There's another thing, I need you to draw up a contract for the band's stylist."
M Dubois looked up at Luka in confusion, "Doesn't the studio have stylists on payroll you can use?"
"They do but. . . Marinette dressed us for the audition, I don't think we would have won without her skills. She's pretty amazing and we'd just like to pay her back." Luka kept saying we, when really he meant I. He flushed in embarrassment, realizing he was probably going to have to tell M Dubois, and thus his father, mostly what was going on. "I'll be paying her out of my cut for the first year."
The lawyer raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing, turning to begin combing through the contract. Jagged finally abandoned Penny to drape himself back over his son, to Luka's great annoyance. "What's this I hear about a girl? Is my baby boy finally growing up?" As if Luka had never had a girlfriend or sexual partner in his life.
"I haven't been your baby boy in a long time," Luka said with disgust, trying to shove Jagged off him and back into Penny's arms.
Luka ignored his dad's heartbroken sobs, crocodile tears he was sure, as M Dubois went through the finer points of the band's contract with him. At the end, the lawyer declared the contract sound, that the record studio wasn't trying to swindle the band out of anything, and they were free to sign it. Penny finally dragged Jagged out of the office to get some water while M Dubois started drafting up a simple contract for Marinette.
Luka leaned back in his chair, relaxing and scrolling through social media on his phone before stopping at a picture on Juleka's feed. He started at the names who liked his sister's picture, focusing on the account named marinettedesigned. Tapping the name, he was happy to see it bring up a feed of pictures starring Marinette. Mostly they involved her sewing creations, which she seemed to take great pride in. A few of them involved friends, some he had seen hanging around Juleka before. He stopped at a picture where she was sewing something that looked like the vest he had worn for the audition, the caption read 'ugh why did i agree to this? nathaniel you owe me big time!' It had been posted at nearly four in the morning, and Luka felt instantly bad. He hadn't known she had been forced to do something like that to help them out.
Luka vowed to make it up to her, one way or another. He just hoped the offer Juleka was bringing her would be the start of that. Another hour passed before M Dubois finally declared he had the contract all prepared and notarized. Luka would just have to fill in the salary, sign, and have Marinette sign as well. He took it with a quiet thanks, reading it over as he got up and wandered back through the halls towards the front door.
It was an extremely simple contract. Marinette would make all the clothing for their tour, their music videos, and any parties they would have to attend. She'd also retain all the creative rights over the designs. Luka almost paused to sign it, but stopped when he realized that would probably alert Marinette to just who was paying her. That wasn't something he wanted her learning now, or ever. He would just have to sign it when he returned both contracts to the studio. The musician sent off a text to Juleka to meet him at his apartment for dinner before leaving, relieved to have not seen Jagged on the way out.
A knocking on the trap door leading into her loft broke Marinette out of the concentrated haze she tended to get in whenever she was sewing. She absently called out permission to answer, assuming it was just one of her parents coming up to bring her lunch. She tended to forget about things like food when she got involved with a new project. When whoever it was didn't say anything, and didn't seem to put anything down on one of her tables either, Marinette finally twisted around to get a look. She was surprised to see Juleka settling down into one of the few seats scattered around her bedroom.
"Oh! Juleka! What brings you here?" Marinette hadn't seen the other woman since the dinner over a month ago. But that wasn't exactly unheard of these days with everyone busy with their own lives. Alya was the only one she saw with any regularity anymore.
Marinette dropped her sewing supplies on her workstation, standing and moving to curl up on the ottoman closest to where Juleka had chosen to sit. Wordlessly, the purple-haired woman held out a crumpled piece of paper, and confused, Marinette took it. Smoothing it out, she saw that it only had a string of numbers written on it. She flipped it over but found only what looked like a receipt from some bar or restaurant.
"Uh, what's this?" she asked, not understanding the significance.
Juleka brushed the bangs out of her eyes, seemingly annoyed for a moment when they settled back in place and obstructing half her view again. "So Kitty Section got offered a record contract-"
"Oh my gosh, Juleka! That's so exciting! I'm so happy for you guys!" And she was. Kitty Section definitely had the talent. Marinette was pleased to see that talent recognized in the form of employment. "Just remember the little guys when you're big and famous," she said with a smirk, reiterating what she had told Luka.
The bassist scoffed, "I doubt that will be a problem. Anyway, that number," she gestured to the paper still clutched in Marinette's hand. "Is your pay." At Marinette's increasingly confused look, Juleka explained further. "Luka convinced them to let you be our full time stylist. You'd be dressing the band for all the big things. Tours, videos, parties, that kind of stuff. If you want it, that is."
At first, Marinette felt elated. She could leave the dreadful boutique she worked in behind, where they all took ridiculous advantage of her talent. Sewing clothes for an actual band would give her brand a much needed boost and a much larger platform as well. It was one step closer to being noticed by a real fashion house, and thus gaining her dream job. But just as soon as the happiness rushed through her, was it chased away by the sharp feeling of sadness.
Why was Juleka bringing her this offer? Sure they were friends, but Luka knew where she lived. Luka was the one who had insisted she go to that company dinner. Luka was the one who had apparently even got her hired. And Luka was the one who she had been talking to almost non-stop for the past month and a half through text messages and the occasional phone call. She starkly remembered the spurned kiss a week before he had left on tour. Marinette felt the sting of rejection once again. If it hadn't been obvious before, it was crystal clear now. Whatever he was doing with the flirting, he wasn't interested in her outside of that.
Marinette turned her attention back to the crumpled paper in her hand. Unfurling her fingers from around it, she absorbed the numbers again, now conscious that this was a salary rather than a random string of numbers. It was more than double what she made at the boutique. The money didn't really matter to her though. She could have been making less and still been eager to leave that soul-sucking place. That fact that she'd be making so much money was just icing on the cake.
Plastering a smile on her face despite the feeling of rejection still curling in her gut, Marinette turned back to Juleka. "Great, is there a contract or something I have to sign?"
Juleka was concentrating on her phone, tapping away. "Luka said he'd have it for you once he cleared everything with dad's lawyer." Marinette raised her eyebrows at that. Juleka had never shared any information about her father before. But apparently he was someone important enough to just have a lawyer.
"Uh, alright. Well let the studio know I'd be happy to sign!" Marinette stood and saw Juleka out of her room, waving goodbye as the other woman left and not understanding the smirk the bassist wore on her way out.
The month that followed the contract signing saw Luka heading back and forth to the studio as they started setting up a dedicated space for the band to record in for the next few months. Occasionally he was accompanied by Marinette as she got her own little space ready, a small room off the side of the mixing room that usually would have just housed extra equipment.
They had both quit their jobs. He from a dive bar that was kind enough to let Kitty Section play music occasionally, and she from a bridal boutique she had claimed was slowly sucking out her soul. Luka was in the studio, busy rearranging some new music and writing new songs, sheets of penciled in notes and lyrics scattered around him, when Marinette found him.
She plopped into the chair beside him, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I got my soul back!" She exclaimed.
Luka looked up in confusion, guitar strings going still in his hands. "Who took it?" he jested back, a coy smile slowly sliding into place as he raised an eyebrow in her direction.
"My job," she started, "It sucked the soul right out of me. But I told the manager to go to hell and I took it back!" Marinette leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes in contentment for a few moments before turning to look up at Luka. "I handed in my two weeks, right? And fucking Odette," she was so cute when she swore, though he doubted that was the effect she was going for, "you remember Odette, right?"
Luka did not, but Marinette continued on even after he shook his head. Apparently his knowing her was not important to the story.
"Well, she kept sending me all these stupid corrections today!" Marinette flapped her hands in exasperation and stood up straight, the legs of her chair hitting the floor as Luka rested his chin in his hand and his elbon on the edge of his acoustic.
"Yeah?" he said, just to let her know he was still listening.
"Yeah! She got the measurements wrong for one of the customers, again. And instead of fixing her mistake, she blamed me for making the dress wrong! I was just so-" Marinette flailed her hands around again before burying them in her loose hair to tug in frustration. Luka watched her, fascinated, as she continued with her story.
She regalled him with a take of Odette and her manager, Amelia, as they continued to blame Marinette for mistake after mistake throughout the day. She painted them as wicked demons in the fiery hells of bridal boutiques. And as they had continued to send Marinette correction after correction, she had finally cracked and declared that she had had enough.
Luka listened and watched her the entire time, admiring the passionate fury she was working herself into, while slipping into his own thoughts as he began to lose track of the details of her story. His mind was busy formatting music, conjuring up lyrics and wondering if he could somehow turn this situation into a new song.
"And then-" Marinette continued, turning her full attention back on him. Luka straightened up under her anger, not wanting to look like he hadn't been paying attention. "Amelia has the absolute gall to ask me to have all the wedding dresses done by tomorrow." She was practically screeching in indignation now, "Twelve dresses, re-seamed and re-ribboned, by tomorrow!" Marinette finally took a shuddering breath before collapsing onto the bench Luka was occupying, before burying her face in her hands.
"What'd you do next?" Luka asked, leaning forward and placing a hand on her knee in comfort. She sighed, obviously stifling a sob.
"I. . . I said 'fuck you bitch!' and then I stormed out. . . In front of the customers."
Luka blinked, staring at her for a moment to process what she's just told him, before bursting into laughter.
"Nooo," Marinette whined, looking up to glare at him. "It's not funny! Amelia might not send me my last paycheck now! I worked hard for that money!" she growled in outrage, wiggling her still bandaged fingers in his face.
"Who cares?" Luke finally chuckled, trying his best to stifle his amusement. "Now you can spend all your newly-found free time sketching designs, like you wanted."
Marinette pouted at him before snorting and crossing her arms, "You're only saying that because you like sneaking peeks at them."
He mimed crossing his fingers over his heart, holding his head high. "I promise to only look at the ones you show me, okay?" Her amused giggle was worth the promise.
Exactly four months after La Mar en Été had signed with Record Star Studios, the album was finally done. Four months of spending twelve-hour days in the studio coming up with new music and refining older tracks. Four months where Luka got to see Marinette five days a week. She had her own little side room attached to their recording studio, and she spent the same amount of hours as them in there each day working on the clothing they would need for their various engagements. The past month alone she had been hard at work creating couture outfits for everyone for the album's launch party. One day Marinette had let slip that she wasn't intending to attend the party. At Luka's insistence, she had started work on her own outfit, though she had refused to let any of them see what it looked like.
Tonight was the big night. Tonight they were doing the album launch party at Le Grand Paris. A dozen company executives would be there, along with an untold number of other celebrities, including Jagged Stone. How Juleka and he had kept their paternity under wraps the entire time was still a mystery to him, but he didn't doubt the secret wouldn't last past tonight.
Luka had been talking with one industry rep after another all night, Juleka at his side. The rest of the band had long abandoned them, not interested in the slightest in brown-nosing as Alix liked to call it. They knew Luka was the best suited to it out of the group, and would keep their best interests in mind. He was just lucky that Juleka loved him enough to not throw him to the proverbial wolves as well. Even if she hadn't said anything all night, her quiet presence next to him was a steady comfort.
He was nodding along to some executive, whose name he had already forgotten, as the man regaled him with tales about the olden days of music when he saw her. At first it was just a persistent twinkling in his peripheral vision. Just someone's jewelry catching on the overhead lights he said to himself. When it didn't stop he turned to peek and felt his breath catch. Marinette was standing at the top of the long staircase leading down into the crowded ballroom. She was leaning on the railing, staring around the area below her with rapt curiosity.
Luka apologized to the surrounding people, not even hearing whatever they might have said in return, before he took off across the ballroom towards the foot of the stairs. Vaguely he noticed somewhere along the way Juleka had peeled off him to join Rose and the rest of the band. Halfway there, Marinette finally started her way slowly down the staircase, eyes still sweeping across the room. At the last few steps she finally noticed him waiting for her at the bottom.
"Oh, Luka!" She looked happy to see him, and he felt his heart swell. He offered her his arm as she stepped off the final step, feeling elation when she slipped her slim arm through his own. "This is all so amazing!
Luka wasn't even sure he comprehended what she said, too busy roving his eyes over her figure. "You look amazing," he breathed. And she did. She was wearing a soft grey dress, the bottom made entirely of tulle, much like the dress she had worn to that dinner so long ago, a dress he had also loved. The dress had thin straps wrapping over her shoulder, and the entire top was dotted with a thousand tiny rhinestones that caught the light every time she moved. It was accented by a deep V, cutting down her cleavage to nearly her navel, that he was desperately trying not to look at.
He let his eyes give one more sweep over her figure before settling on her face. Her cheeks were a soft pink, probably embarrassed from his perusal, though he hoped she was also pleased. The dark makeup she wore stood out starkly against her pale skin, but he had to admit he definitely liked the dark red, almost black, lipstick she wore. He didn't want to admit what it was doing to him.
"Thank you, Luka. I've never made something so. . . Involved before." From what he knew, she had spent almost the entire month working on this, and now he knew why. Adding each rhinestone piece by piece must have taken the bulk of the time. Marinette reached out with her free hand, tugging on the lapel of his own black suit. "I've never made a tailored suit, either. But I must say I'm quite pleased with how it came out." It didn't scream punk, or whatever aesthetic they were going for with the band, but at this moment he was just glad to not look totally out of place at her side.
Luka cleared his throat, trying to clear his head of all the thoughts running rampant within it as well. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, gesturing to the crowded dance floor. The hotel's music selection had alternated all night, switching between playing songs from their upcoming album to other music that was more traditionally danced to. He had no idea how to do any traditional dances, other than what he had gleaned from television over the years. But if Marinette wanted to dance, he was damn well going to try.
Marinette smiled at him, a soft sweet thing that had his heart doing flips in his chest, and nodded. Luke took a step back from her, bowing and holding out his hand like he'd seen the dapper gentlemen on the television do. He was rewarded with a shy giggle as Marinette slipped her hand into his own. He swept them onto the dance floor, avoiding the bodies that were slowly circling the space. Luka settled his other arm around her waist, tensing in surprise when he found nothing but skin. Apparently the deep V on the front of her dress was mirrored on the back as well. He hesitated a moment before fanning his fingers out across her warm skin, the contented sigh she let out the only clue that she might have enjoyed it.
He had been determined to keep his eyes up, staring pointedly at the faceless people on the edges of the dance floor as they twirled. But one too many near trips forced him to spend more time looking at his feet. Marinette and he had been close before, not quite touching, but close enough to brush against each other with each turn. Now that Luka was forced to take a conscious step backwards so he could actually see where he was stepping, he was just grateful that so far he had avoided stepping on her toes at all. He looked down, deliberately skipping past the cleavage on display with a red face, trying to ignore the hint of a crestfallen look on hers.
They didn't talk through most of the song, partially because he spent most of his time concentrating on where he was putting his feet and their bodies. As the music started to end he looked up, intending to ask her if she would like to maybe dance again, or perhaps get something to drink, and a bite to eat. Luka swallowed his words before he could get any of them out. She wasn't even looking at him. He followed her gaze to find her watching Adrien Agreste on the other side of the ballroom. The famous singer was talking animatedly with a blonde woman who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.
Luka took another step back from her, seeming to startle Marinette when her wide eyes flew back to him. "It was lovely to dance with you, Marinette," he said, feeling a sadness creeping over him. "I'm going to go and get something to drink, I hope you have a lovely night." He turned and left, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the dance floor and staring at Adrien Agreste. What had started as the best night of his life, another in a long string of them, had morphed into something that left a sour taste in his mouth. A flavor he was determined to drown out and numb.
