I had the thought for this fic when I was driving around and "Salt" by Ava Max came on the radio... Originally I was going to do the whole thing from Marinette's POV but then decided to be angsty instead. This isn't related in any way to my other Miraculous fic, it's just a one-off that I wanted to get out there while the plot bunnies hopped around.

Also, I had way too hard a time trying to find a "club dress" that Marinette would actually wear, y'all have no idea. It's based on a little black number by Selfie Leslie.

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc, Jeremy Zag

Adrien felt the bass from the speakers thrumming through his entire body as he wove his way through the milling crowd of people, drink in hand. Kitty Section was playing at this club tonight, and although he was no longer in the band - his father would hardly allow it now that they were actually touring - he wasn't about to let his friends down by not coming to see their performances when he could.

This was a rare treat though. Gabriel Agreste had been unaware that Adrien's friends were playing in a club, and Adrien was allowed a small glimpse of the freedoms he would have if he were just any other Parisian teenager on a Friday night. Adrien grinned even as he flattened himself between two very excited club-goers, still making his way toward the far side of the venue and hopefully some more room for him to stand.

So far, nobody had noticed him as Adrien Agreste, super-model; everybody was far too worked up over the bands that were playing that evening, and Adrien couldn't be happier to for once be out of the limelight. He finally managed to find a spot near the far wall that, while it didn't have a great view of the stage, allowed him enough room to at least take a sip of his drink without worrying about knocking into anyone. He'd seen Kitty Section rehearsing enough times to know they put on a fantastic show, anyway.

"Adrien!"

The sound of his name made him turn in time to see Alya Cèsiare waving at him as she approached, her other hand gripping onto someone behind her that he couldn't see yet. Smiling, he raised his free hand in greeting, glancing around and backing up just slightly so that Alya could enter into his coveted space. "Hey! You actually managed to make it out to see Kitty Section too? That's awesome, we were hoping you could come!"

"Yeah, I told my father that my friends were playing a gig; he didn't need to know where," The rogueish grin Adrien sent Alya was matched by the brunette and both laughed until Alya turned to whomever she'd brought with her and gave a hearty tug.

"Come on girl, you can't hide behind me all night! Say hello!" Alya chided.

Marinette came stumbling out from where she'd apparently been hiding from him behind Alya, though Adrien couldn't imagine why. She looked incredible. Hurriedly trying to pick his jaw up off the floor, Adrien took in her outfit the only way somebody in the industry could, and didn't miss the way her face flamed even in the low-lighting of the club.

"H-hello Adrien!" She called, somehow still managing to sound meek over the throb of the music and the blood pumping through Adrien's veins. He must not have reacted because she only blushed darker, and the grin on Alya's face turned positively vulpine.

It was a simple ensemble when you got down to it, and there was no doubt in Adrien's mind that Marinette had created it herself. The simple black fabric - his signature colour, though of course, she didn't know that - hugged her curves and stretched where it needed to, allowing her more than enough freedom of movement to wriggle out of Alya's grasp. A slight ruffling along the curve of each shoulder drew his gaze down to the v of her plunging neckline, which, he realized, he was staring at. Those frilled mirrored those hemming the bottom of the skirt that dusted just a few centimetres shy of her knees, offering a tantalizing flash of thigh if she moved just a little too sharply. When she turned to face her friend, Adrien saw that her dress was kept on with a simple corset tie-up. Just one simple tug, and he could…

Adrien Agreste, it's time you put that drink of yours down. He chastised himself and was glad that the lighting in this venue was terrible.

"Marinette did you make this yourself?" He asked, already assuming the answer. When he received her stumbling, blushing nod, he smiled widely and gestured to the whole of her, noticing that she'd paired the dress with a pair of boots that oh, god just kept climbing her legs… "You look incredible!"

The expression she gave him made it seem as if he'd just told her he murdered a beloved family pet, rather than complimented her appearance. Alya spoke for her, thanking him, her grin still firmly in place.

"We were going to go backstage after the performance, do you want to come?" She yelled; Kitty Section had begun, and Rose was never one for letting something as silly as eardrums getting in the way of her rocking out.

Adrien glanced up toward the stage, considering it, but his reply died on his tongue when he noticed that he wasn't the only one who seemed to notice Marinette's beauty that night.

Luka was up on stage, his guitar tearing through note after note as tiny, sweet Rose snarled into the mic like a woman possessed. He'd caught Marinette's eye, and she'd begun to walk toward the stage away from both Alya and Adrien, smiling up at the musician.

He smiled back. He was looking at her like she was a goddess; like she was the sun... Like she was his muse.

Honestly, Adrien couldn't blame him.

Beside him, Alya clicked her tongue and shook her head, patting Adrien's shoulder as if to say 'better luck next time' and began to weave her way through the crowd after her wayward friend, leaving him there alone. The rest of the songs seemed to fade into a white noise that thrummed in time with Adrien's heartbeat as he kept his gaze on Marinette…

And she… She kept her eyes… On Luka.