Marinette ran her hands down her pants, wiping the sweat off her palms. She once again questioned her choice to match her green velvet shirt with a light pink jacket. She thought the colors and pieces worked together-she'd designed them to work together, afterall-but everyone else was wearing such dark, basic colors. Though she usually relished in standing out in her own designs, today she wondered if she should have styled herself after an Agreste design instead. Tikki had assured her that her outfit was beautiful, especially with the black leather pants, but Marinette was too nervous to agree with her.
She'd been contacted a few days ago that her entry in the Clarence fashion contest had won first place, and Aubrey Clarence had been so impressed by the design that she'd come to Paris to meet her and spend time with her. Now, she was waiting at a fabric store for Aubrey Clarence, and she was not ashamed to admit that she was freaking out a little.
The door chimed. A tall blonde woman stepped in. She wore a long sleeve ice blue shirt with enormous sleeves, large enough to be called avant garde. The shirt was lined with white puffy cotton inside, and a few snowflakes cut across the front of the shirt, from shoulder to shoulder. She wore a matching blue mini skirt with thick white leggings underneath. Her white boots extended to her knee, accentuating her height. It was bold, and on anyone else, it might have looked tacky, but this woman exuded class.
She took off her sunglasses and glanced around the room. When her cool brown eyes landed on Marinette, she strode over, the heels of her boots clicking on the floor. Scampering behind her, Chloe Bourgeois straightened her clothes and fixed her hair.
"You must be Marinette Dupain-Cheng," The tall woman's voice was deeper than she'd expected, but warm and inviting, like Sabine when she spoke to customers.
"Yes," Marinette forced down her anxiety and extended a hand. She knew her smile was a little too wide, too excited, but there was no way she could tamp that down. This was Aubrey Clarence, one of the top fashion designers in Paris, who had connections all throughout the world, who showed at New York Fashion Week every year. She was one of Marinette's idols, and it was impossible for her not to be a little starstruck. "It's so nice to meet you! I almost couldn't believe it when I got the email from your fashion house!"
"What's not to believe?" The woman smiled as she gracefully shook Marinette's hand. "You're certainly talented enough. I might be the first, but I won't be the last to want to meet you. Why, just look at you!" Aubrey examined Marinette's jacket, "This is divine!" She looked at Marinette for permission, then physically inspected the pink jacket, feeling along the edges, flipping it to look at the inside, and pulling the pockets inside out.
Marinette felt lightheaded, like she was going to pass out. Aubrey Clarence was looking at her jacket, and she seemed to like it! She could just die and she'd be happy.
"Look at the stitching lining the pockets, Mom," Chloe piped up, pointing at the embroidery running along the inside of Marinette's jacket pockets.
Aubrey sighed. "Yes, Cleo, I have eyes as well." Her voice was much sharper when speaking to Chloe than it had been while conversing with Marinette. She looked at Marinette apologetically, gesturing to Chloe. "My daughter. She will be joining us today." She didn't sound exactly happy about that.
Marinette glanced between the two of them. This was Chloe's mom? There was something weird about that. It wasn't that they had different last names-neither of her parents had changed their last name after getting married-but it was about the feeling between them. It was almost like they were strangers. Given that Aubrey Clarence had been living in New York for the last twelve years, that wouldn't be shocking. It also could have been the fact that Aubrey apparently didn't remember her own daughter's name.
Marinette didn't want to say anything, though. This was Aubrey Clarence. If she got on her good side, opportunities would open for her in the blink of an eye. She would easily be able to get an internship, or even a job, as soon as high school ended, and she'd be able to help her parents pay their bills. She couldn't afford to question their relationship, and she figured Chloe wouldn't want her to, either.
"I always embroider something near the pockets, or at the edge of my shirts," Marinette showed the two of them the inside hem of her velvet shirt. "Usually it's the inspiration for the design, but sometimes it's just my name. It's like my signature."
"I love it," Aubrey gushed. "Oh, I was thrilled when I saw your design. Out of all the submissions we received, yours was the most...how do I say? Inspired. It was so inspired, with so many layers, and so much work and passion was put into the design-I haven't felt so refreshed after seeing a design in many years, let me tell you. When I saw that you lived in Paris, I wasted no time in purchasing a plane ticket and coming here to visit."
"I thought you didn't want to come to Paris in case a Makara attack kept you from work?" Chloe questioned from her mom's side. Aubrey ignored her. Marinette tried not to look at the red cheeks or downcast look on Chloe's face. She forced herself to focus on Aubrey Clarence.
"Talent like yours should be cultivated," Aubrey leaned down and grabbed Marinette's hands. "That's why I asked you to meet me here. This is the most well-stocked fabric store in Paris, and I'd like you to have free reign here."
Marinette's jaw dropped. She knew what she'd heard, but she wasn't sure Aubrey knew what she'd just said. "Do you mean-"
"That's right," Aubrey smiled. "Anything you want, as much as you want. Don't be shy. You are a true designer, and the world deserves to see what you have to offer." She suddenly seemed to remember Chloe's presence. "Cleo will go with you, to help you carry anything you like. Right, Cleo?"
"Yes," Chloe answered immediately. "Of course. Come on, Marinette."
Marinette allowed Chloe to drag her away, suddenly feeling like she was in an alternate universe. Here she was, in a high-end fabric store, with Aubrey Clarence (who liked her design enough to fly to another continent to meet her) and Chloe was calling her 'Marinette' again for the first time since elementary school. All of it was so surreal, she wasn't sure which was more unbelievable.
Marinette and Chloe went to the second level of the store, and Marinette immediately forgot about everything else. Here she was, surrounded by silks and cottons and brocades she'd previously only dreamed about touching. Now, she was going to be allowed to buy it, to own it, to create with it!
Each fabric got its own section, and was color coded with light colors on the right and dark on the left. Marinette made a bee-line for the fake fur, but the brocades distracted her. An employee of the store came by when she was particularly interested in a black and gold brocade and helped her cut ten yards of the fabric. A small part of Marinette felt bad about spending someone else's money as freely as she was, but it was easy to ignore when she remembered how much work she'd done to get recognized by Aubrey Clarence.
"Oh, this is interesting," Aubrey felt the sunset orange fleece fabric Marinette was admiring. "Any plans for the fabric, or are you the type to get what speaks to you and design later?"
"I've had an idea for a while of a sporty shirt/dress for a while, and I thought the color would be bold enough for my style!" Marinette was practically giddy. She'd only ever had her aunt to talk with about fashion. Speaking to someone-a successful businesswoman, no less-about clothing was like a dream come true.
"You should go with white or beige," Chloe said. "It would be more neutral, easier to sell. Right, Mom?"
"Cleo, the fashion world is a bit more complicated than that," Aubrey shot her daughter an irritated look. "Go look at the lace, or the rhinestones or something. I can help Marinette."
Chloe shot them a hurt look before turning and wandering away. Marinette glanced at Aubrey who seemed totally unaware of her daughter and continued to inspect the orange fleece.
"Three yards of this," she turned to tell a nearby employee. They cut it and stored the fabric with the rest that Marinette had picked out.
As the hours passed, Marinette was almost overwhelmed by all the options. The cotton patterns were beautiful, the colored silks were more vivid than any she'd been able to get her hands on, and the sheen of the satins added an extra dimension to the possibilities she could create with them. Fabric after fabric, Marinette's pile grew larger, and she should have been happy. She should have been ecstatic with what Aubrey Clarence was willing to buy for her, and the face that she believed so strongly in her that she gave her no budget. But it was impossible.
Every dozen minutes or so, Chloe would cautiously wander back to talk to her mother, and every time without fail, Aubrey would rebuff her and send her away again. After a certain point, Chloe found her best bet was to hang around Marinette and talk to her about the fabrics until Aubrey found something she said agreeable. It was horribly awkward, and so incredibly sad.
"Look at this," Aubrey held out a nearly sheer navy blue chiffon. "With layers and a proper design, this could be so elegant, don't you think?" Marinette glanced to the side, where Chloe was staring at her longingly. It left a sour taste in Marinette's mouth. Aubrey Clarence would always be one of her favorite designers, and a business role model, but Marinette couldn't allow herself to accept this kind of attention from her while Chloe was so desperate for even a few moments of her mom's time.
She put down the silver fabric in her hand and took a deep breath, chest aching. She knew what her conscience was telling her to do. She knew it would be best for her in the long run. She should tell Aubrey Clarence that she was thankful, but that she couldn't accept any of this. A wave of nausea rolled over her as she looked at the pile of expensive, high quality fabrics that the store had cut and set aside for her. It was literally thousands of dollars worth of materials, and she couldn't accept any of it.
"Aubrey," Marinette clenched her hands. Was she sure she had to do this? With Aubrey Clarence's approval and friendship, she could go so far in her career, so much quicker than if she tried to on her own. Was this worth it? She glanced once again at Chloe. She was usually so arrogant, so full of pride, so confident. Now, she slumped in the shadows, eyes round and lost like an abandoned child. Marinette knew then that she could never create with the fabrics Aubrey was offering to buy her. She loved fashion, she wanted it to be her career, but she would never compromise her morals for a job. "I can't accept this."
Aubrey blinked at her, and Chloe looked confused. That sick feeling whirled through Marinette's stomach again.
"What do you mean?" Aubrey asked. She still had a chance. She could play it off as though she was just embarrassed by all the attention, or she was uncomfortable about all the money spent on her from a stranger. But no. Marinette was a lot of things, but she was not a liar.
"I can't accept gifts from a woman who treats her daughter-my classmate-so coldly. I would look at the fabrics and feel too disgusted to touch them anymore. I'm so sorry for wasting your time, and thank you for coming out to see me because of my design, but I can't work with you. I won't let myself work with someone who throws away family for success."
"Be reasonable," Aubrey laughed. "You and I are in fashion. You need to know the harsh reality of the business-you either give everything you've got, or you get nothing."
"That might be true," Marinette said. "But I can live with myself if I don't make much money. I can't live with myself if I accept these fabrics from you."
Marinette turned to leave, grabbing Chloe on her way. Aubrey didn't say a single word to convince her to stay. Marinette pushed her way out into the frozen streets of Paris and shivered. She continued to hold onto Chloe's arm as they trudged through Paris. The sun was high in the sky, but it provided no warmth, only light. The sunshine reflected off the ice, making the Parisian avenue bitingly cold but blindingly bright.
She spotted a cafe and entered with Chloe, quickly getting seated at a booth in the back.
"Order anything you want," Marinette handed Chloe a menu. "After what you just went through, you deserve it."
Chloe didn't say anything and read through the menu. A waiter came by and took their orders. The two girls were silent. The bell at the front of the cafe chimed and Marinette rolled her eyes. Chloe turned to see what she'd seen. It was Mrs. Bustier, walking in with another woman. The other woman was taller than Mrs. Bustier, and she had a darker complexion. She wore a red turtleneck sweater with dark jeans and brown boots. She was beautifully put together, and Marinette felt a ball of almost regret in her throat. She'd picked out a cotton fabric that same shade of red. She'd never get to work with it now.
"Mrs. Bustier?" Chloe looked at the other woman. "Who's that?"
"Her wife," Marinette said. Chloe gave her a look. "I know for a fact it's her wife," Marinette defended. "She orders things from my website every once in a while. I'd rather not say what exactly she orders. But one time she gave me a picture of the two of them and asked me to make two shirts with the picture on it for their anniversary. They're diabetes-level sweet."
"You don't like Mrs. Bustier," Chloe said casually as the waiter brought them their drinks. She took a sip while Marinette rolled her eyes.
"Who would? She's a coward who runs away crying more than she actually teaches. The only reason she hadn't been hit by an Akuma like all the other teachers is because she sneaks away with the students. I've seen her."
"I believe you," Chloe murmured. "I never thought, though…"
"She's got a victim-complex," Marinette continued, "And cries to fix things, or runs away. It's pathetic, and I have no respect for her at all."
"Well, don't sugar-coat it," Chloe huffed with the hint of a smile on her lips. "I would have thought that you wouldn't like her...for other reasons?"
"I don't need other reasons when she's given me plenty already," Marinette said. She pursed her lips and took a sip of her hot chocolate. She made a face. It was water-based. Gross. Her dad made it better at home. She pushed the mug aside.
"You want to know about my mom?" Chloe sighed. Marinette shook her head.
"No. I want to know about you. Are you ok?" Chloe stared at her. Marinette scowled. "What? Are you not ok?"
"No, I'm fine," Chloe said. "I'm used to Mom. I'm just not used to you I guess."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Marinette frowned as the waiter came with their food. He scampered away, and Marinette picked at the food on her plate. She sighed. "If I hurt your feelings, or something, I'm sorry. I don't even realize if I'm being rude half the time."
"No, it's not that," Chloe shook her head. "I just thought you hated me. Why would you-you're not rich, Dupain-Cheng. You'll never be able to buy that amount of fabric from that store. Ever. Why would you give it all up?"
"Why the hell would you think I hate you?" Marinette narrowed her eyes. "I talk to you, don't I? Yeah, sometimes you can be a bitch, but you're not a complete loss, you know? And besides, who cares about some dumb fabric? Seeing how your mom treated you made me feel sick. I'd never be able to separate the clothes from the experience, and if I tried to use them, I'd feel...dirty. So I had to turn her down."
They were silent for a while, just eating their food. Chloe looked up at her. "No one's done that for me in a long time," she finally whispered. "I can't even remember the last person who chose me over my mom. Thanks, Du-thanks Marinette."
"It's the right thing to do." She glanced at the still full mug in front of her and pushed it in front of Chloe. "If you want to thank me, have this hot chocolate."
Chloe sniffed it and wrinkled her nose. "No way. That's water-based, and all the marshmallows look stale."
"Damn," Marinette mumbled, pulling the mug back towards herself. "My plan has been foiled."
Chloe laughed, taking a bite of her macaroni and cheese.
Marinette opened the door to her home, Chloe following close behind. The unbearable heat of the kitchen translated to a comfortable warmth in the front of the bakery, and the smell of fresh bread wafted through the air. Marientte went behind the counter and kissed the woman there on the cheek. She asked about the meeting with Aubrey Clarence, and Marinette scowled in response.
Chloe studied the woman, surely Marinette's mom. She was the same height as Marinette, but the slightest bit stockier. Her hair was the same color as Marinette's, but trimmed short, and straighter. She had crow's feet at the corner of her warm brown eyes and the smoothest skin Chloe had ever seen on a real person. She wore a black apron, almost entirely covered in flour, and a faded pink t-shirt. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng looked over at Chloe and gave her a welcoming smile.
"Hello," Chloe greeted, a little uncomfortable with this still. She appreciated what Marinette had done for her, but it was still weird to hang around her when she'd been convinced a few hours ago that the girl hated her. Her mom waved at her from behind the counter,
"Hello, are you a new friend of Marinette's?" she asked. Chloe and Marinette exchanged glances. It wasn't a simple yes or no answer, and both of them knew that. They'd been in the same class since elementary school, and they'd never gotten along. It had gotten a bit more volatile and obvious as high school started, but they also had a bit of respect for each other. After today, Chloe had more than a little respect-for the first time, she understood why Adri-cat kept insisting that Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn't all that bad.
"This is Chloe Bourgeois," Marinette introduced. "Her mom is awful, so I brought her here to meet you. I'll man the front; can you like, spend time with her or something? Show here what a real mom does?"
"Are you sure you want to run the cash register?" her mom asked. "Your friend Adrien came by. He's in the living room with Tom."
"Adri-cat is here?"
"Do we have any croissants left?"
"He came by, upset about his father. Tom, my husband, took him back to the living room and they've been playing video games for the past hour." Marinette opened her mouth, but her mom shot her a look. "Don't you dare interrupt me, young lady. I've already given Adrien all the croissants we have in stock. Honestly, who do you think I am?"
"Are you sure this is your mom?" Chloe looked at Marinette skeptically. "She seems way too nice to be related to you."
Mrs. Dupain-Cheng laughed and Marinette rolled her eyes. "Shut up, you don't know anything about her. She's a slave-driver, a demon, a monster, a-"
"Don't talk about your mother that way!"
"Sorry, Mom." Marinette did not look sorry. "Anyway, go hang out with Dad, Adrien, and Chloe. I'm sure you've been working for a while, you deserve a break."
Mrs. Dupain-Cheng handed the filthy apron to her daughter and fluffed her hair, giving Chloe a refreshed smile. "That's better. It's so nice when my daughter gets off her ass and decides to help us once in a while." Ok so maybe it wasn't that far-fetched to think the two were related.
"Mom," Marinette complained. "Why do you keep wearing that disgusting t-shirt? I told you, it's embarrassing."
"Ignore her," Mrs. Dupain-Cheng led her through the bakery.
"Do not ignore me!"
They ignored her. Chloe walked through the bakery with Sabine. On the left was the kitchen and counter, with all the confections and breads displayed for customers. The left side of the bakery was filled with sitting space. The floor was checkered with black and white tiles, the chairs were red, and there were a few family pictures on the wall. It was just a bakery, but it made Chloe feel more welcome and at home than her actual home did.
As they wandered through the bakery, they made it to a door with an 'employee only' sign on it. Past the door was a stairway which Mrs. Dupain-Cheng led her up, and Chloe was greeted with a...house. It seemed that the Dupain-Cheng's bakery was literally their home.
"This is the closet," Mrs. Dupain-Cheng opened a door to the immediate left of the entrance to the house. "This is the bathroom. Through there is the living room, and on the left is the dining room. Feel free to move about as you please, but take your shoes off at the door."
Mrs. Dupain-Cheng was so much more polite and calm, but she was so much more firm than her daughter. Chloe had been in countless arguments with Marinette and she'd seen the full extent of her anger multiple times, but she knew she'd never last in an argument with her mom.
"Tom, we've got company!"
Mr. Dupain-Cheng made a distracted noise. "That's nice, Dear."
"We'll be in the kitchen."
"Be clean!"
"Don't worry, Tom," Adri-cat laughed. "I'll clean up after her."
"Adrien, you are a child after my own heart. If only you were my daughter instead of Marinette. I'm sure I would have so much brown hair left on my head!"
"Take that, Tom!" Adrien cheered. "Don't get distracted, Old Man-now I've finally won!"
Mrs. Dupain-Cheng shook her head and looked at Chloe, a long-suffering look on her face. "Tom always wanted a son. Now he's adopted one, it seems. Let's go to the kitchen, they'll join us after we're finished."
"Finished with what?" Chloe said quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself. The house was cluttered, in that lived-in way. It was easy to get comfortable here, almost too easy. She heard Adri-cat laughing and Mr. Dupain-Cheng calling for a re-match in the other room.
"Well, our brownies, of course." Mrs. Dupain-Cheng led her into the kitchen and started pulling ingredients out of multiple cabinets, drawers, and the fridge. "When she was young, we would usually practice martial arts or go on family trips together. Sometimes I'd dress her up as my little doll-oh, that was back when she was still agreeable and adorable, you know. I had a feeling you were just a little too old for that, and I'm not sure you'd be able to handle the training I had in mind. So, let's do what this family does best: bake."
"Thank you, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng," Chloe got up and started whisking together the dry ingredients as she had instructed.
"Mrs. Cheng," Marinette's mom corrected. "I didn't change my name after I got married."
"Do you...You didn't change your name, but you still live with your husband?" Chloe questioned. "Why?"
"I love my husband," Mrs. Cheng assured. "But because of familial traditions, I couldn't bring myself to change my last name. Same with Tom, actually. We have different last names, but we've been happily married for twenty years now. We don't need to change our last name to prove devotion now, do we?"
"I guess now," Chloe murmured. "My mom used to have Bourgeois as her last name. Then, she changed it back to her maiden name when I was seven and moved across the world."
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Cheng said. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but she sounds like a selfish bitch."
Ah, there was that Marinette charm. Chloe let out a startled laugh.
"She's not so bad," Chloe defended. "She makes a lot of money and sends it back to me and Dad."
"Money can be gained or lost with hard work and time," Sabine greased up a baking pan. "It's a lifelong pursuit, but it won't always be there. People who care for you can be gained in an instant, or lost just as quickly. Sometimes no amount of hard work will guarantee a person will come and stay with you in your old age. Chloe, you should remember that. Money is nice, but it's not an excuse to leave your family."
Mrs. Cheng then stood to the side and explained all the steps and measurements to Chloe. It took a painfully long time, and her arm hurt from mixing so much by the end of it, but that made it all the more satisfying when she finally put it in the oven.
"So, Chloe," Mrs. Cheng sat in a chair across from her, "I might be wrong, but I was under the impression you didn't like Marinette. What changed?"
"Who told you that?" Chloe asked. Mrs. Cheng raised an eyebrow at her. Right, Marinette was her daughter. Of course she'd know about their arguments. "Oh, yeah. I mean we argue a lot. She's a little stubborn and is a bit nosy-"
"You don't have to hold back," Mrs. Cheng laughed. "She's my daughter, I know exactly how irrational and stubborn she can get. Lay it on me straight."
"Right," Chloe cleared her throat. "I guess we argued so much and she kept telling me to be better, it seemed like she thought she was better than me. But today, she turned down thousands of dollars of design stuff for me. I guess I just saw the nice side of her that Adri-cat keeps telling me about."
"Interesting," Mrs. Cheng hummed. "And she brought you here?"
"She said you would be good for me," Chloe mumbled, embarrassed.
"She left something out, of course." Mrs. Cheng said. "Tom would be good for you as well. I have a feeling your father isn't very present, either?"
"He tries," Chloe defended. "He's just so busy all the time that he tries to spoil me. It was nice when I was like, twelve, but I'm almost an adult now. It just feels lazy, like he'd rather throw money at me than spend time with me." Tears stung Chloe's eyes. She hadn't realized that was how she'd felt until she said it outloud, and now it hurt when her words echoed in her mind. Mrs. Cheng grabbed Chloe's hand and held it between her own, grounding her.
"Tom is a good man," Mrs. Cheng assured. "The doors to this bakery will always be open to you. Please take my words to heart, like Adrien has."
Chloe turned to try and glance at the living room. Mrs. Cheng smiled and stood, taking Chloe to Adrien and Tom.
The living room was small, but functional. The room was lined with a few small bookshelves stuffed with cooking books and photo albums. The walls had a few family photos in them, but there were also a few frames hung up with the stock photos still inside of them. There was a circular blue rug on the ground, right behind a couch which was situated in front of the TV. On the side furthest from Chloe sat Adrien. Next to him was, apparently, Tom.
He was massive. It was shocking to think that he was Mrs. Cheng's husband and Marinette's dad. His arms were thicker around than Chloe at the hip. His head towered at least half a foot over Adrien-and Adrien's height wasn't anything to laugh about. His hair was brown with a few streaks of gray at the temple, and he had a bushy mustache beneath his nose.
Looking at him, there was nothing to resemble Marinette. Chloe tensed. Maybe she'd inherited her matchstick temper from her father. She really didn't want to see this Goliath man angry. She moved behind Mrs. Cheng.
"Tom," she said. Her husband hummed, still focused on his game. She clicked her tongue in irritation. "Tom!"
"Yes, Dear?" His voice was deep, but surprisingly soft. Chloe felt instantly relaxed when he spoke, still focused on the video game in front of him. Well, Marinette certainly got that from him.
He hadn't looked over. Mrs. Cheng's eyes narrowed. Chloe shivered. She'd had that look sent at her before, but when Marinette did it, it was much less threatening.
"We have a guest," Mrs. Cheng did not sound happy. Neither of the boys paid her any attention.
"It's no trouble, Mrs. Cheng," Chloe tried to assure.
Adrien snorted, leaning his body to the left as he tilted his controller. "You don't have to be so formal with her-just call her Sabine."
"Do not," Sabine warned, but she was looking at Adrien rather than at her. Chloe still felt that she should assure her:
"I won't, Mrs. Cheng."
"She's joking," Adrien said. "I promise, she likes it more when you call her Sabine." Adrien clicked rapidly on his controller, and Tom's brow furrowed. After a few seconds, Tom brightened, throwing his hands in the air and cheering. On his left, Adrien wilted, pouting at the TV screen.
"Who is this?" Tom finally noticed Chloe standing there. "Another of Marinette's friends?"
"Hello, Mr. Dupain," Chloe greeted politely. "I'm Marinette's classmate, Chloe."
"Bourgeois?" Tom clarified. She nodded.
"She and I made brownies," Mrs. Cheng announced. They'll be ready in just under twenty minutes. Now, I'm going to go downstairs before Marinette loses her temper with a customer."
Sabine left the room. Adrien shifted on the couch so Chloe could sit between him and Tom. Tom primly set his controller on the table in front of him.
"Get ready," he warned the two of them. "Marinette was just running the front of the house. When she gets up here, she won't-"
"Dad," Marinette's voice whipped through the air. Chloe turned and saw her stomping through the house. "Quit it with that joke, it's not funny. I'm not in a bad mood or anything, I'm just dirty!"
"Right, of course," Tom agreed. "Why don't you take a shower, then? We'll be here when you get out."
"Oh, and don't forget about the brownies," Adrien spoke up.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be right back. Don't burn the brownies."
"Marinette," Mr. Dupain sounded wounded. "I'm a baker. I don't burn things."
She stomped to her room. Tom and Adrien exchanged amused glances.
"Not in a bad mood?" Adrien scoffed. Tom nodded, chuckling a little. Chloe looked at the trapdoor ladder she climbed up.
"Where is she going?"
"Her room is the attic. It's the only room on the level above us. It gives her enough space to design, and keeps her out of our hair when she's in a mood."
"I'm not in a mood!" Marinette yelled down from her room. "I just want to take a shower!"
"Eavesdropping is a bad habit," Adrien threw back. "Hurry up, the sooner you get out, the sooner I get brownies!"
Chloe sighed, hearing Marinette walk above her. Adrien turned to her.
"So, Chlo, why are you here? I thought you hated Marinette."
"Why do people keep saying that? I don't hate her." Adrien sent her a look. Chloe looked at Tom and gently amended: "I never hated her, I just didn't like her very much. But that was before." She shifted in her seat slightly, facing Adrien more than before. "My mom saw one of Marinette's designs and came to Paris for a few hours," Chloe studied the frozen screen on the TV in front of her. It looked like a ladybug on the right and a black cat on the right. The black cat was victorious, and the ladybug was squished. This must have been the game they'd been playing when she walked in.
"Are you ok?" Adrien asked, now serious. Tom, sensing a shift in mood, turned to face her more fully. The look on his face was open, curious, but not prying. She knew he'd leave if she asked him to, but she didn't want him to leave-not just yet.
"I'm actually better than I've ever been when Mom comes over," Chloe confessed. She lowered her voice and looked at the trapdoor. "Marinette called her out about the way she acted towards me. Then we went and had food and we even went ice skating. It was actually really fun."
Adrien winced. "I'm sorry. I've never done that for you."
"It's alright," Chloe said. "It's not like you to confront anyone. At first, she didn't say anything either, you know. It took almost two hours for her to break."
"Surprising," Tom said. "She usually has such a short temper." He paused, looking at Adrien. "Though, lately, she's had a much better time calming down before she speaks."
"You're sure you're alright?"
"I've had a lot of fun with Mrs. Cheng," Chloe confessed. "Like, the most fun I've had in a long time. Which, when I think about it-isn't that just pathetic? Sabrina is like, my best friend, but I had more fun with Marinette's mom than with her."
"Well, not really your best friend," Adrien mused. "I guess I know what you mean, though."
A timer beeped in the kitchen. Chloe made to stand up, but Tom placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down on the couch. The width of his hand was double that of her shoulder. He was unreal.
"Don't worry," He smiled down at her kindly. "I'll get that." He went to the kitchen, and soon the sound of banging pots and pans reached Chloe and Adrien. They exchanged glances, but neither of them had the time to go look after him. Marinette came down the stairs, a medium pink towel running through her hair. She sniffed the air, looked at the couch, then huffed and stomped towards the kitchen.
"Dad!" she growled. "Go back to the living room!"
"Don't worry, Marinette, it's just some brownies."
"No! You bake all day, leave it alone, I'll do it. Now get out, Adrien and Chloe are waiting for you. Tell them about that giant shark you caught that one time, they'll like that."
"Do you really think they want to hear about that?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now go away!"
"I told you she was a good person," Adrien whispered, grinning at her. Chloe couldn't disagree anymore.
"Yeah, she is."
