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August 3, Entry #29 of Gabriel Agreste's Secret Journal

I try not to get addicted to things. Well, I admit I do have a bit of an issue with being power-hunger. As is the case, I try to steer clear of addictions that might impede my mission to be more powerful.

I've never smoked or taken recreational drugs. I drink only on occasion, particularly when the day has been rough. I never watch more than the first season of a show, and I refuse to get Netflix. I've heard Adrien belt many anime theme songs at three in the morning, so anime is a Must Steer Clear Of At All Costs. I never listen to more than one song from the same artist, and I don't read books so that's a non-issue. And I also try not to order the same dish from a restaurant twice.

However.

Today, the intern brought in a case of pastries from her parents bakery, and I cannot stop thinking about those chocolate-filled croissants.

On my schedule, I saw I had a lunch appointment with my son to discuss his life goals. Or more accurately, my goals for his life that he will follow like the good son he is. I am rocking this whole parenting thing. But that's besides the point, because I asked Natalie to cancel the appointment with my son so that I could go and get about two dozen chocolate croissants from the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

I put on my black sneaking-around jacket and told my personal driver to drive me to the bakery. It was a nice day, so all the bakery windows were open, letting all the delicious smells permeate into the street. As I walked up to the door, I heard voices talking inside.

"Yeah, my dad canceled on me again so I thought I would come visit you guys for lunch."

"Well son, you know you're always welcome here."

"Thank you Tom! You're the best!"

"It's no problem at all. I'm just surprised Marinette didn't come with you?"

"I asked her to come, but she's working on a new dress design. You know how she gets when she's in the fashion zone."

The other voice chucked. "Ah yes, that sounds about right. Well, I'm glad we at least get to enjoy the presence of our future son-in-law."

I wondered if that was something all parents said about their child's friend. I asked Nathalie about it, and all she told me was to gain some common sense, so that wasn't helpful at all. Perhaps I should take to google again.

The older voice continued speaking, "So son, what are your plans today? Anything exciting going on?"

"Ah, nothing much. Nino's probably coming over later to play video games. Marinette keeps beating our butts, so we have to practice extra to even have a chance at winning."

It was then I realized the conversation was delving into trivial chit-chat I had no interest in hearing. I opened the door and stepped into the bakery. T

To my son I said, "Hello son."

To the alarmingly large man behind the counter I said, "Can I please have two dozen chocolate croissants?"

"Father!" Adrien shouted. "What are you doing here?!"

I was not prepared for this question.

"Some of the board members I'm having the lunch conference with ate some of the pastries the intern brought in. They were dying to have more, so I volunteered to go run and get some."

"Why didn't you just ask Natalie or another of your assistants to get them?" Adrien looked at me. "And why are you wearing your black sneaking-around jacket?"

"Ah well," I said, very elegantly. "I thought it would be nice to see you where my best intern lives. And this was the only jacket I had left. Nathalie took the rest to the cleaners." I cleared my throat. "I did not realize you frequented this spot.

"Uh, yeah, it's really good," my son stuttered out.

"I am now aware of that," I stated. Then hastily tacked on, "As is the rest of the board members. Who I really should be getting back to. You know how they are."

"Oh, of course."

"Two dozen chocolate croissants to go," the very large man said. He had not stopped glaring at me since I walked into the bakery. I handed him money, and he shoved a box of croissants into my hands. I have never been so scared of being murdered in my life. And I had received death threats from many of the fashion industry's elite designers.

"Thank you," I said to the man. I then turned to Adrien. "I will see you later at home. I will be in my office for the remainder of the day, as usual. So have a good rest of the day." There. That was a good fatherly thing to say. I should've ordered another croissant to congratulate myself on a job well done.

As I proudly strutted out of the bakery, I heard the man say to my son, "Why don't you stay for dinner as well? And if you want, our couch is very comfortable to sleep on. You're welcome to just stay here."

Okay, so maybe I didn't actually deserve that extra croissant for good parenting. Regardless, I realized that I should probably step up my parenting game. Worrying about my son in my secret journal clearly isn't cutting it.

On the way back to the office, while I tried to think of good parenting things to do, I stress ate all of the two dozen croissants.

I've decided to just ask Nathalie for ideas later. And perhaps order more chocolate croissants.