CHAPTER DISCLAIMER: A flashback to #35 The Proposal.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: …Look, folks, I'm really sorry for not having more done sooner. Real Life kept getting in the way, and this wasn't such a great year for me. Even though the first OC akuma hasn't happened yet, I wanted to give you all SOMETHING to read. I especially think that some feel-good vibes would counterbalance all the angst and drama really well. More details down at the bottom.
(But in the meantime, Happy Holidays!)
Also, I've gone back and fixed a few things in previous chapters (these changes should be visible soon if they're not already)…
-When yelling at Chloé after the Stoneheart bout, Marinette sarcastically asks if Chloé got lessons in hostage negotiation from her father the mayor.
-The line about rage as an anesthetic is properly cited, as something which Zaeed Massani said in the video game Mass Effect 2 (from his loyalty mission, "The Price of Revenge").
-The bit about Rachel-as-Chloé reflecting about how she impulsively used Ivan as a stand-in for Tom should be pushed back to a previous chapter.
-The sweet ingredient in those oatmeal cookies is now brown sugar instead of powdered sugar.
-I also wanted to go back and include the Mortal Kombat franchise as something which Rachel-as-Chloé might play to work out all that aggression. (And speaking of video games, how could I not mention Half-Life because of those stupid head-crabs!?)
Also, at the request of Renae, I've included the link to where you can see that picture of Rachel-as-Chloé behind the hotel front desk at the artist's own website; please visit her website!
Major thanks to Keyseeker for helping to beta-read most of this (please check out her work!); it's not 100% beta-read, but I'm posting it now anyway because an update for this story is long overdue!
TRIGGER WARNING: A brief mention of child abuse and neglect.
Chapter 12: Resisting the Urge to Spiral
Another morning, another day at school.
Nino was hanging out by the entrance to the school when someone shorter than himself almost bumped into him.
"Oh, sorry, Nino!" the ginger-haired girl exclaimed.
"Don't worry, Sabrina, it's cool," Nino said easily. And now he could see why the happened: She must have had her nose buried in a new book. "Whatcha readin'?"
She showed him the cover, but it looked like the book was written was in English: Counterfeit Son by Marie Elaine Alphin.
"After the thing with all those books and movies in Ms. Bustier's class yesterday, I guess I'm on a bit of a roll with all these mystery and suspense stories about people with double identities," Sabrina said by way of explanation.
"Cool," he said, "but why in English?"
Sabrina shrugged. "Well, I found this in a secondhand bookstore which I like to go to, and I couldn't find any French translations, so I decided to give this a try. Besides, since she's probably the most fluent in English out of all of us, I figure I could ask Chloé for help with any translation problems."
"Did somebody mention me?" came the voice of another girl who was now approaching them.
It was Chloé, dressed in yet another fashionable outfit, a nice blouse and skirt. It was ladybug-patterned, with black spots on a field of red, cinched by a black belt around her wait.
"Yeah, we were just discussing this one book Sabrina found in English," Nino said.
Turning to Sabrina, Chloé said, "Sorry, what were you saying, Sabrina?"
"Oh, I was just wondering if you could translate something from English for me if I needed help with it," Sabrina said happily, holding up her newly-acquired book for Chloé to see.
Chloé blinked as she looked at the cover.
"…Huh," she said at last. "What's this about?"
Now Sabrina looked a little sheepish. "Well… I know it's a touchy topic, what with child abuse, but… well, it's about a boy who pretends to be another boy, who went missing, and he does this to convince the missing boy's family that he really is their son…"
Even as she listened to Sabrina's brief summary, Chloé looked shocked at it…
"Everything fine, dudette?" Nino asked her. Now he was starting to remember how weird she'd been acting yesterday…
That also got Sabrina to stop rambling about it and then she focused on Chloé again.
"Yeah, everything's fine, just thought maybe the author's name looked familiar somehow."
"So Chloé," Sabrina piped up, "I was just wondering if maybe you would be willing to help me translate parts of it which I can't translate myself?"
"Yeah, sure thing, Sabrina," Chloé said, although somehow Nino got the feeling that she'd rather not do that.
But it didn't look like Sabrina noticed this small hesitancy on Chloé's part. "Thanks, Chloé!" she said, giving the taller blonde girl a quick hug. "Well, I'd better get ready for home room!" Sabrina added, and with that, she was off to homeroom.
Chloé gave her a half-hearted farewell as she waved off Sabrina, but Nino could tell that the blonde was preoccupied. Sometimes he wondered what was going through her head, but decided that it was alright if he didn't know.
Still, he couldn't help but ask… "Are you alright, dudette?"
"Yeah," she said, sounding normal. "Just thinking about that lecture about movies and the entire domino effect or ripple effect or whatever you want to call it which it's set off."
"Still thinking about yesterday?"
She shrugged. "It's an interesting topic and it's fine if people are fascinated by it, but I'm just ready to move on from it, you know?"
"Yeah, I totally get it," he agreed with her.
"So, what else is new in your world?" she asked him.
"Oh, just trying to go over some ideas for a movie to submit to the film contest," he said casually.
"Care to share any details?" she asked, genuinely interested.
Nino grinned. Oh, did he ever have some ideas for it!
Nino was just chatting with Chloé about the movie project he was working on when he thought he sensed something behind him as they walked up the stairs.
Or, rather, someone not moving.
"Uh, Chloé…?"
"You'd better not be looking up my skirt," he heard her mutter in a dangerous tone.
Nino started and flinched; what on earth was she talking about? Not to mention the tone in her voice, which made him fear for not only his own safety but for that of everybody else around.
Turning around to see her, Nino saw her standing in place and glancing down at the stairs, peering down at something between the steps. "Chloé, what—?"
She put a finger to her mouth to request silence, and then pointed downward.
Nino could see what the problem was: It looked like somebody was hiding under the stairs.
From what Nino could tell, it looked like they were hunched over and looking down and not looking up, but Nino couldn't blame Chloé for being alert like this.
He did, however, worry about how much of a mess Chloé would leave behind if this other person was in fact trying to do something inappropriate… and, dare he say it, worthy of a beatdown from Chloé Bourgeois.
Indeed, the increasingly angry look on Chloé's face promised a world of pain for that unlucky soul, if that one was indeed guilty of what she thought that person under the stairs was doing.
I guess I'd better make sure she doesn't go too far, Nino thought to himself, hoping for the best but also preparing for the worst.
Chloé spun on her heel and marched back down the stairs, ready to have words with whoever was hiding under the stairs.
"Look, pal, I don't know what you're doing under the stairs, but—"
Whatever Chloé was going to say next died in her throat when the kid hiding under the stairs got out from under there, straightened himself out, and stood up.
Or at least Nino guessed it was a "he," because if this kid was a boy, then he was a rather effeminate-looking boy.
But Chloé was just gaping at him, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Finally, she got a hold of herself and muttered, "Marco?"
The other kid blinked before he (?) responded, "Um, no, sorry, it's not Marco. My name is Marc, actually. Marc Anciel." Marc then held out his hand and added, "Nice to meet you. You're the mayor's daughter, right?"
Chloé just blinked a few times before clearing her throat and saying, "Um, yes, sorry about that. Chloé Bourgeois, nice to meet you."
She shook his hand, albeit a little awkwardly.
"So, you thought I was somebody else?" Marc asked with nothing but honest curiosity.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Chloé admitted. "Your parents' names wouldn't happen to be Peter and Eva by any chance, would they?" she asked.
Marc looked startled, and shook his head. "Nope."
"Your father isn't a software engineer and your mother doesn't go sailing?" Chloé queried.
"Nope," Marc replied again.
"Oh," Chloé said, a little lamely. With a shrug, she then added, "Sorry, Marc, I just thought you were someone else."
"Who, this 'Marco' person?" Marc asked her.
"Yeah, him," Chloé said. "Sorry, but wow, I swear you could pass for his twin."
Marc smirked and snickered. "Gee, thanks." And then he seemed to notice Nino. "Oh, sorry, excuse me, what's your name?"
"Nino Lahiffe," Nino replied.
"Nice to meet you too, Nino," Marc said, checking the time. "Wait, I think I've seen you around before. Aren't you usually going around filming something?"
Nino felt a small burst of excitement. "Yeah, that's me," he said proudly.
Marc laughed a little. "I can related," he said earnestly, "because I like to write too." Here he held up a notebook, and Nino could only imagine how much of it was filmed and what was written within it. "I can write short stories and novels just fine, but I want to write stuff like comic books, too."
Then checking the time on his phone, Marc said, "Well, I gotta get to class. Talk to you later, then?"
"Yeah, sure thing," Chloé said. "See you around, Marc."
Marc gave them a nervous smile, and, clutching his journal and stylus to his chest, hurried off to wherever he was supposed to go next.
Both Nino and Chloé just watched the other kid go before he decided to break the silence.
"Wow, Chlo, you really looked scary there," Nino commented. "Especially when you thought he was… y'know… doing something nobody should be doing?"
Chloé grunted something in acknowledgement.
"Seriously, dudette, you were like the freakin' Terminator…"
And somehow that made Chloé stop dead in her tracks.
And that made Nino stop as well as he turned to look at her again. She was staring in shock, and then looking him oddly.
"The Terminator?" she repeated, still looking at him oddly. "Why compare me to him?"
And then Nino blinked. "Actually, I was referring to that female Terminator. You know, from the third movie."
She blinked and then realized what he was saying. "Oh, that bimbo," she scoffed. "Sorry, but I don't really care for her at all."
"I get what you're saying," Nino said, "but just wondering why you thought of the original Terminator instead of that model."
"Yeah, I get what you're saying," Chloé said, "but personally, I didn't like the third movie all that much, and I liked the first two films better. The third one just seemed to undo the first two and render everything moot. At least at the end of the second film, there was optimism and hope."
And then she fell silent for a moment, as if lost in thought… before finally showing signs of life again, if only by growling in frustration.
"Alright, that's it!" she said at last. "I'm going shopping!"
"Uh, dudette, it's still early in the morning and first period hasn't even begun yet," Nino pointed out.
Chloé paused, looking like she was thinking it over. "Well, then I'll do it after school!" she declared.
As she walked off ahead of them, Nino shook his head. Chloé was an awesome person — beautiful, kind, loyal, and as smart as a whip too — but occasionally her behavior made him wonder what she could have been dealing with to make her act this way.
He just hoped that she got her issues straightened out, and soon, because none of them liked seeing her act this way.
As he walked into Ms. Bustier's classroom, he saw Chloé meet and greet Marinette.
"Hi, Marinette! What do you think of my new outfit?"
Was it just Nino's imagination, or did Marinette look surprised that Chloé was wearing something inspired by Ladybug? "Wow, Chloé, it looks great, and you look great with it too!" Marinette said, earnestly and sincerely. "I guess you're Ladybug's newest big supporter?"
"Yes, well, that and somebody who just wanted to help support the local economy," Chloé quipped. Marinette smiled and chuckled at that.
Still, Chloé was resilient, and was that kind of person who could bounce back from anything.
So perhaps Chloé wasn't in such dire need of help after all.
Feeling better somehow, Nino fished out his personal notebook again and began looking over his ideas for a student film yet again…
Alya was having a good day so far. Another blissfully supervillain-free day.
…Although she wouldn't have minded another attack from Hawk Moth sometime soon, as her blog numbers were starting to go down a bit. It was inevitable that he would attack again; the question was when that would happen, and if she could capture any decent footage in time.
Her attention was then diverted to Chloé entering the room, wearing that ladybug-patterned outfit which she'd seen yesterday. Alya jolted a little and felt a little regretful when she remembered her curious snooping and Chloé's eventual forgiveness.
Good thing that Chloé and most other people around here were so forgiving.
"Hey, nice dress, Chloé!" came a boy's voice from the back of the room. "Wait, isn't that the thing which Alya was trying to get a look at yesterday?"
…Well, most people.
Alya frowned and turned around in her seat to see that it was Kim who had said it. Something about what he said and the way he'd said it.
"Don't worry, Chloé," Kim declared, "the next time you need someone to protect you, let me know and I'll be there!" He even struck a pose and looked off into the distance.
Alya groaned at his display, and felt serious annoyance that he should treat her like she was some kind of threat to another person.
But luckily, Chloé was having none of it. "Whatever you say, Kim," she said in a tone which clearly conveyed that she was having none of it.
And then Alya heard what sounded like Kim wincing in pain. "Ow, ow, ow!" he whined, and Alya turned to see Alix dragging him by the ear as if he were an errant little child.
"What did you have to go and do that for, Monkey Brains!?" Alix scoffed. "That thing from yesterday was nice and dead and buried, and then you had to go bring it up again!"
"I'm sorry!" Kim protested.
"Don't tell me, tell Alya!" Alix retorted.
"I'm sorry, Alya!" Kim whined.
"Fine, I accept your apology, and don't do it again," Alya sighed.
Alix finally let go of Kim's ear, and he walked away with as much dignity as he could still muster after that.
"If he gives you any more grief, just let me know," Alix said cheerfully, before the skater girl sauntered back to her own seat.
"Don't let it bother you," Sabrina whispered to her. "Kim's got this crush on Chloé, and she hasn't really reciprocated. Besides, Kim isn't usually so bad… but when he says or does something stupid, well, he doesn't do that by halves."
"Yeah, what Sabrina said," Chloé added, approaching Alya. "And even though that wasn't my fault, let me just say I'm disgusted by that; not just him trying to woo me like that, but bringing that up from yesterday again."
"Don't worry about it," Alya said, handwaving it away.
"Cool," Chloé commented, before pausing momentarily and then asking something else. "Hey Alya, Sabrina," she said to the two girls in front of her, "I was thinking of going to one of the malls after school, do some 'shopping therapy' — either of you want in?"
Sabrina replied first. "Sorry, Chloé, but I've got to do some stuff around the house this afternoon."
"That's fine, Sabrina. What about you, Alya?"
Alya blinked, not having expected this. "Sounds like fun, Chloé, but I don't think I'd be able to keep up with you in terms of spending."
But Chloé could tell what Alya was talking about. "No, it's not something that outrageous," Chloé whispered to Alya. "I'd be going in disguise, just another middle-class teenager with only so much cash on hand."
Alya blinked. "Huh?"
"I've done it before, especially when I want to avoid attention," Chloé said easily, before her mood fell a little and she then added under her breath, "like when I'm in the news…"
"So… you mean to tell me that you purposely pretend to be a normal teen and do the shopping experience that way?" Alya repeated, making sure that she was understanding everything.
"Yup!"
Alya processed those words, before she shook her head, chuckling softly. "Sorry," she said at last, "but now I'm just trying to envision that in my mind's eye… for some reason, I keep thinking of—"
"The way Princess Jasmine escaped from the palace in Aladdin and mingled with the commoners?" a boy's voice came from the side, and they all turned to see Adrien there.
Chloé sighed and rolled her eyes. "Dork," she said aloud in a not-unkind way. "You mention that every time I mention one of my 'shopping therapy' trips," she said to him. "Every. Single. Time. And seriously, do you have every Disney movie memorized or what?"
"So what if I do?" Adrien asked, looking a little affronted. "Anything wrong with liking Disney movies, and having a good memory too?"
Chloé closed her eyes and shook her head, but Alya could see the big smile on the blonde's face. Opening her eyes and looking at Alya again, she said, "Adrien here is like the adorkable little brother I never had."
Adrien huffed and pouted, but didn't retort to that.
"So, anyway, Alya," Chloé continued, "did you want to join me and Marinette later after school?"
Alya thought about it, and she didn't see any reason why not.
"Sure, why not?" Alya grinned.
"Great," Chloé declared with a smile. And then she turned to Sabrina and asked, "How about you, would you like to come along?"
Sabrina gave a sad little smile, explaining, "I'd love to, but unfortunately I've got after-school study hall to help others with their homework, and then I've got chores at home."
"Sorry to hear that," Chloé said sincerely. "Still, maybe next time?"
"Oh yes, definitely!" Sabrina said enthusiastically, and nodding just as enthusiastically.
"Don't worry, Sabrina, we'll all do something together some day," Marinette added, and Sabrina beamed at the support which she got from her classmates and friends.
Ms. Bustier arrived shortly thereafter, and the class got underway.
The rest of the day progressed smoothly from there, with everybody seemingly relieved that there were no supervillain attacks today (even if nobody voiced this sentiment aloud).
All in all, it was a refreshingly boring day at school, and the only real action came in the form of some mock verbal sparring between herself and Alix.
It had all started when Chloé came to school looking nice and dressed up like a young businesswoman, because she would be meeting up with her father immediately after school to accompany him on an inspection of Montparnasse Tower. The blonde had gotten her fair share of compliments from her classmates and fellow students, and somehow that had turned into a discussion about how Alix herself would be needing a dress soon for a special event at the Louvre.
After all, Alix was the daughter of the director of the Louvre, and so sometimes she had to be present for special events, much like the mayor's daughter herself. But the skater girl and dresses did not go well together.
"I can't wait to see you again at the newest exhibit opening up, Alix," Rachel remarked, smirking just a little.
"Don't say it, Chloé," Alix warned her.
"I bet you'll look just lovely…"
"Don't freakin' say it…"
"…in that dress."
"I told you not to say it!" Alix yelled, getting everybody else's attention.
And then the temperature dropped in the classroom as both girls starred each other down. Alix was standing on one of the steps higher up, which gave her the ability to look Chloé Bourgeois dead in the eye.
On the edge of her field of vision, Rachel saw Alya look a little worried and about to say something, but Sabrina assured her that it was nothing to worry about.
And then the blonde girl and the pink-haired girl began to trade barbs. They went back and forth, like two opposing players in a tennis match.
"Bourgeois."
"Kubdel."
"The Princess of Paris."
"The Lurker in the Louvre."
"Hoity-toity calligrapher."
"Low-brow graffiti artist."
"Socialite."
"Skater girl."
"Action junkie."
"Street daredevil."
"Blondie."
"Bubblegum."
And the two of them stared at each other for a moment longer, with everybody else watching with baited breath… before one of them finally cracked and both of them burst out laughing. The rest of the class also relaxed, and they also laughed softly at the two girls' antics.
"You get used to it," Sabrina whispered to Alya, the ginger grinning a little herself.
The rest of the class seemed relaxed again… until they saw both Chloé and Alix suddenly staring at each other again.
"Bourgeois…"
"Kubdel…"
"Alright, alright, enough already!" Marinette said exasperatedly, although Alya could also see a hint of amusement on her face at the other girls' antics.
Hours later, the school day finally came to an end, and now Alya was getting ready to go shopping with Marinette and Chloé.
At first, Alya had been worried that she wouldn't be able to keep up with the blonde girl, and could only guess how much disposable income the heiress had at the ready, but Chloé assured her that it wouldn't be a problem. To Alya's surprise, Chloé said that she would be "going in disguise" as an average French teenager.
After school let out, Alya went with Marinette back to the other girl's own home while Chloé returned to the hotel.
"Come on, you'll get to meet my parents," Marinette told her happily.
As it was the middle of the afternoon, Marinette's parents were able to get a break in the action from running their bakery, and so Alya got to meet both of them.
"Oh, hello, dear," said a Chinese woman behind the counter, who was clearly Marinette's mother. "Are you one of Marinette's new friends?"
Alya briefly wondered if she should still classify herself as Marinette's friend or just as a classmate, but opted to go with that. "Yes, I am," she said unwaveringly. "Alya Cesaire. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Cheng." (Marinette had already told Alya about how her mother kept her own surname despite being married to Mr. Dupain, while Marinette herself had both her parents' surnames as a way of honoring both sides of her family.)
"And it's nice to meet you too, Alya. Tom's a little busy in the back, but he'd love to meet you yoo."
"Don't worry, I know what that's like," Alya told the older woman. "It's the same thing with my mom in the kitchen. I don't know if I told you this, but she's the new chef at Le Grand Paris."
"Yes, so I heard," Mrs. Cheng replied with a smile. "Congratulations to her on the promotion, and I hope that you and your entire family will do well here in Paris."
"Yeah, I hope so too," Alya said absentmindedly, but unable to stop thinking about everything they'd left behind back in Martinique…
"Alya," Mrs. Cheng gently said, and it was enough to get Alya to lift her head again to see the face of Marinette's mom hovering close but not too close to her. "It's fine if you're homesick; I went through these feelings too when I left Shanghai behind to come here to Paris."
A small part of Alya wanted to respond that she doubted that Mrs. Cheng was an adult at the time of her moving here to France and wasn't a teenager dragged along by her parents, but the aspiring reporter wisely held her tongue, and instead looked down at the countertop, nodding in assent to the older woman's helpful words.
She doesn't know, Alya reminded herself. Don't start making drama with the mom of one of your new friends as soon as you meet her.
Apparently sensing Alya's silent reaction, Mrs. Cheng spoke up again. Alya briefly worried about how she might have come across to Marinette's mom, but she was relieved when she saw that Mrs. Cheng was still smiling.
"Don't worry, dear," she reassured Alya. "It will get better, I promise."
And before Alya could say anything else, Mrs. Cheng was already busying herself with something behind the counter, but still smiling at the teenager.
"Here," Mrs. Cheng said, putting a few macarons in a small paper bag and handing it to Alya. "On the house. Welcome to Paris."
"Thanks!" Alya said happily, then peering inside. She noted that there were three macarons in there, one blue and one white and one red (blueberry, vanilla, and strawberry respectively, or so she assumed), and wondered if it was deliberate as she thought of the French tricolor flag.
And so Alya took her time, eating them one at a time and savoring every last bite, until she was done with them. And it turned out to be good timing, too, because just as she was finishing up and cleaning up after herself, Marinette returned from her room in more comfortable clothes than what she'd been wearing earlier.
"Ready to go?" Marinette cheerfully asked Alya.
"Yup!" Alya said, excited and ready to go. "Thanks again, Mrs. Cheng!" she thanked the older woman.
"Not a problem, dear," Mrs. Cheng said with a smile. "Just stay safe and come back soon alright?" she added, pulling Marinette into a hug.
"Yes, Mom!"
And with that, they left the bakery and were on their way. With Marinette playing the role of impromptu tour guide, Alya navigated the bustling city of Paris to their destination: Westfield Les 4 Temps.
Alya had heard of this place and had done some research too, but despite all her homesickness, she was still feeling awed and humbled to set foot in this world-famous place.
It was only a few minutes after they'd entered the main building, and they both heard Marinette's phone ringing. As the ravenette checked the number, she looked up to Alya and said, "Do you mind if I take this real quick?"
"Yeah, sure thing, girl," Alya said casually. "Do what you need to do?"
Nodding her thanks, Marinette answered the call, walking a little ways away to a relatively deserted spot.
Alya was just looking around, eyes wandering around in all directions to take it all in, when someone else's voice caught her by surprise.
"Um, excuse me, Mademoiselle?" another girl's voice called out to her. "Are you waiting for someone?"
Alya sighed as she turned to look at whoever was asking her that. "Yes, I'm waiting for…" but then her voice trailed off as she saw the blonde girl standing in front of her. "Chloé?"
Alya almost didn't recognize her new classmate at first, and for good reason: It was Chloé's new ensemble, clearly a disguise. She looked like a taller and blonde version of Sabrina, wearing a patterned sweater (dark gray with a white diamond pattern on it) and nice black skirt, very thick black glasses, and nice pants. Not only that, but her long blonde hair was in a neat braid, and the whole disguise was topped off by a cute little black beret, complete with a badge like the French tricolor flag on it. Alya also noticed how the cuffs of Chloé's sweater also had the tricolor theme going, and that drew Alya's attention to how Chloé was clutching a cute little white or pearl-color purse in one hand. The little gold heart earrings were also a cute little touch.
In short, Chloé now looked like one of the nerdiest "nerdy girls" to ever grace the city of Paris.
And then Alya noticed the handbag which Chloé was carrying, which she nervously clutched to her chest as she glanced around. "Oh wow, I hope nobody's caught onto me and who I am," she mock-whispered to Alya, even as she stuck her pinky in her mouth as if to chew her fingernail in nervousness. This made Alya think of the stereotypical nervous secretary or office assistant in all those movies and TV series.
Alya just gaped at Chloé, and in the next moment, the blonde took her hand away from her mouth, and winked at the other girl with a smirk.
Alya couldn't help it; she snorted in amusement and had to clap her hand to her mouth to stifle the laughter coming from her.
"Hey, Alya, what's so funny— oh…"
Then Marinette came up to them, done with her phone call and putting her cell phone away. Of course she noticed Chloé's new look. "So, what do you think, Marinette?" Chloé asked her longtime friend. "How do you like it? I was going for 'studious girl with some Gallic chic mixed in.'"
The young designer sighed and rolled her eyes, saying, "You're truly a master of disguise." But Alya could see the amused grin on Marinette's face.
Chloé winked in response. "You have no idea."
"But otherwise, yeah, I'd say you definitely pulled off that look," Marinette added with a smile.
"Why, thank you!" Chloé said cheerfully.
After getting herself to calm down again, Alya said through the last of her chuckles, "So, now that you're going in disguise, then what do we call you?"
She shrugged. "I dunno," she said quietly, and then whispered to them, "but just don't call me Chloé, obviously."
Both Alya and Marinette hummed as they thought about it, but before Marinette could come up with something, Alya snapped her fingers and exclaimed, "Hey, I know! How about Rachelle?"
Chloé blinked and looked surprised. "Why that name?"
"Remember we were talking about that movie the other day and you pretending to be the female lead? Rachel from Blade Runner, right? Just go with the French version of the name instead of the English one! How about it, 'Rachelle,' what do you say?"
Chloé looked off into the distance, thinking it over for a moment, before she finally replied, "You know what… sure, why not? 'Rachelle' sounds good."
Alya smiled, glad that Chloé liked her idea. "Well then, Rachelle, how about we go shopping?"
Chloé — now calling herself 'Rachelle' — smirked. "Let's do it," she said with gusto.
And off they went.
However, barely a few moments later, something interesting was already stopping them in their tracks.
"Hey, Alya! Rachelle! Take a look at this!" Marinette cried out.
Now all three girls were looking at what had caught Marinette's attention.
"Oh wow," she said, practically gushing the words as she held her own face in her hands and stared at what looked like a perfume advertisement. But what really caught Alya's attention was precisely who was featured in the ad: her new classmate Adrien. (Not that Sunshine Boy was really Alya's type, but she supposed that he looked nice enough for this purpose.)
"Huh, I guess only now they're starting to roll out the ads for the newest line," Chloé commented, taking on a pondering pose. "Then again, maybe we missed it with the excitement of the past few days…"
"Ah, Adrien," Marinette said dreamily, and even from this angle, Alya could see the lovey-dovey look in the other girl's eyes and on her face too.
"Ahem," Chloé said quietly, "you might want to pull yourself together before you get too many weird looks." But Alya could see that Chloé was merely trying to discreetly help her friend and not be too harsh.
Still, that seemed to snap Marinette out of it, and she looked a little embarrassed. "Sorry," she said a little meekly, holding her own hands in front of herself.
"Wow, you really do like him that way, huh?" Alya asked, but still smiling and thinking it was cute to see Marinette have a crush on Adrien like this. Marinette didn't answer, but looked down at the floor with her cheeks reddening and still unable to keep that smile off her face.
"Oh?" Chloé said coyly, propping her arm on the other and looking thoughtful. "And what do you like so much about him? Inquiring minds want to know."
Chloé's friendly and playful tone made it clear to them that it was all in good fun and certainly not an interrogation. But after a moment or so, Marinette looked normal again and confidently answered that query.
"Oh, he's so nice and kind and polite, and has a nice goofy sense of humor too," Marinette said honestly. "And unlike all those fangirls, I know him and I see him for what he is what anybody thinks he should be." And then, with a mischievous smirk on her face, the designer then added, "He's also the only one who even comes close to me in Ultimate Mecha Strike."
"Good to know," Chloé said happily. "And, like I said already, I'll be happy to play wing woman."
Alya's sense of intrigue was rapidly climbing. "Ooh, sounds like fun," she remarked. "I don't suppose I can play wing woman too? Let me do my part to help out?"
Marinette and Chloé exchanged a look and shrugged. "Sure, why not?" Chloé said cheerfully.
"Well then," Alya said in a faux conspiratorial tone as she gleefully rubbed her hands together, unable to wipe the growing smile from her face, "count me in 'Operation: Get Marinette With Adrien!' Or whatever you're going to call it."
"Okay, you're in," Chloé replied. "And we all know that Marinette will treat him well," the blonde added confidently, giving a knowing look in Marinette's direction.
"Yeah, you know I would never act like any of those crazy fangirls," Marinette responded to that. "I even made him that nice T-shirt once, the one which reads MODELS ARE PEOPLE, TOO!"
The three of them all got a good laugh out of that. For Alya, it felt good to laugh along with them. She could feel herself slowly but surely becoming good friends with these girls, and she was enjoying every moment of it.
And once they got it out of their systems, they went to the first store, which happened to be a clothing store.
As they went shopping, Alya marveled out how much Chloé was able to blend in with the rest of them. She didn't act like a spoiled rich kid trying to figure out how to shop on a budget like a normal middle-class kid; no, she just slipped into the mindset, as if she had already been such a person before, somewhere in the distant past.
In the first store they visited, Alya could only watch, fascinated, as Chloé went through shirts and blouses all lined up on a rack: "Too tacky… too expensive… well, maybe this one would work with a nice pair of pants or jeans… don't like the feel of the fabric on this one… yikes, did a blind person do this pattern or what? No, that would be an insult to blind people, I'm sure even they couldn't come up with something as horrid as this…"
And Alya found herself nodding along, agreeing with Chloé's assessments. The girl really knew her stuff when it came to fashion.
And then Chloé seemed to notice something next to Alya. "Ooh, this looks nice… hey Alya, look at this."
Chloé held up a gray sleeveless vest which looked very professional. "This could look good on you, Alya," the blonde told her. "Got any sit-down interviews or internships coming up? This ought to look good on the job!"
Alya looked it over, and then held it up in front of her to the mirror. "Huh, you're right, I think this could look good…"
"Actually, Alya, I found a nice pair of slacks which might go with it, hang on…" And with that, Chloé was gone, disappeared into the labyrinth of clothing-filled racks.
Alya looked at Marinette, who shrugged and smiled back at her, and Alya took another look at herself in the mirror with the sleeveless vest which Chloé picked out, marveling at how nice it looked…
Sure enough, barely a minute later, Chloé was back with a pair of slacks on a hanger. "Here, take a look at these," Chloé said, handing them to Alya. "I think they're your size, and they would look good on you."
Marinette chuckled. "Sounds just like her," she said with a grin. "Give Rachelle here an hour, and she'll write an entire dissertation on pants."
Chloé gave them a funny look. "An hour, you say?" she repeated. "No, give me half the time or less, and I'll write that dissertation for you, and then some."
Alya shook her head and chuckled at their banter.
Once they collected everything, they made their way to the changing rooms. It was surprisingly empty today, and they wasted no time in picking empty stalls for themselves. They had fun trying on different styles, and commenting on and critiquing these new looks on each other.
All three of them were just picking out what would be their final purchases before leaving the changing room, but then Marinette's phone started ringing. "Sorry, I need to take this," she told them, after glancing at whatever number was displayed on it. "Please watch my stuff while I'm away?"
"Sure thing, Mari," Chloé said, pulling Marinette's bag and purchases toward her. "We'll protect it with our lives."
Marinette smiled as she shook her head, and then went off to answer her phone call.
Alya watched as Chloé sat there, sipping her smoothie and watched the scenes go by, staring at nothing in particular.
"Hey Chloé, can I ask you something?" Alya asked Chloé between sips.
"Yeah, sure, what?"
"So, I was talking to my Mom this morning during breakfast, and she said she saw you running the hotel's front desk, wearing a hotel uniform and everything. What was that all about?"
Chloé looked a little surprised. "Wait, she saw that? Huh, I didn't even notice her."
"All she did was pop her head into the lobby for a moment to look for somebody, and she saw you behind the desk," Alya said by way of explanation. "So what were you doing?"
"I was covering for another employee who couldn't make it in," Chloé said matter-of-factly. "I help my father with the hotel and I pull my own weight. Sometimes, I even do the same tasks as most of the other employees. It really raises the troops' morale and earns their respect when you fight in the trenches along with them."
"Really? And which military leader said that?"
Chloé scoffed and smirked. "I think they've all said that at some point or another," she said easily. "Stand by the troops, blah-blah-blah, it raises their morale and their respect for you, yadda-yadda-yadda, quoth every military leader ever."
Alya blinked, a little surprised by the war metaphor, but she nodded in understanding.
"I see," she said at last. "Also, Chloé, if you don't mind me saying so… you're not what I expected."
Chloé turned to look at her a little strangely. "What do you mean, Alya?"
"I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but when my mom accepted this job with your dad, I was afraid, well…" Then Alya trailed off, not quite sure what to say, but Chloé quickly figured it out.
"You thought I would be some insufferable spoiled brat," Chloé said flatly, not asking it so much as she was stating it.
"Er, yeah," Alya affirmed, looking a little sheepish and glancing away, before hastily adding, "Please, it's nothing against you! Just that I'd had some bad experience before with some of Mom's previous bosses and their own offspring…"
"Alya, don't worry, it's fine," Chloé placated her. "Believe me, I get it. Besides, I'm surrounded by other rich jerks and their spoiled spawn all the time, I know what you mean."
Alya heaved a sigh of relief, and couldn't help but smirk a little at Chloé's description of those other rich people. "Thank you, Chloé," she said earnestly.
"No problem."
"I also wanted to ask you something else," Alya continued.
"Yeah?"
"Well, obviously, I'm just trying to get to know all my new classmates and friends better," Alya said by way of explanation. "Sabrina especially as been very helpful, but I also wanted to get to know other people better than just asking about them."
"What do you mean?" Chloé asked.
Alya sighed, trying to brace herself. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, especially after treating us to this nice day out, but I just wanted to understand some things," she said gently. Lowering her voice a little more, she then added, "I've also heard stories about how you take no prisoners when you or anybody else gets threatened, like whatever you said or did to that rich girl the other day."
Chloé remained silent, digesting Alya's every word. When Chloé didn't reply right away, Alya was afraid that maybe she'd overstepped her bounds. "Okay, maybe this wasn't the best time or place to ask about it," Alya conceded at last. "I'm sorry, Chloé, I just can't help it when my curiosity gets the better of me…"
"Alya." Hearing her own name come across like that, firmly but not harshly, made her stop rambling. Daring to look up at Chloé again, she saw Chloé looking straight at her, not unkindly. "It's fine, really. And I appreciate you being so tactful about it."
Collecting herself, Chloé finally spoke again. "Okay, so…
"It's just me and my father living at the hotel. My mother… well, she does her own thing. And actually being a mother doesn't fit into that at all.
"She walked out on us when I was only five years old. And I didn't take it very well. I was… oh gods, Alya, I was such a little monster.
"About a year later, sometime after my sixth birthday… which she didn't show up for either… well, let's just say that I saw some other kids getting bullied and it made me realize something. It made me realize how I was acting, and not want to be like that anymore.
"However, I was still a little rough around the edges, and even when I first met Marinette, I was still a little haughty and bossy. Even when I meant well and said nice things and gave helpful advice, it could come across as condescending if I wasn't careful with how I said it.
"And then, around the time of my twelfth birthday, when I thought my mother would come home again for the first time I years, I was so excited! But then she didn't show up. I sat there, surrounded by my friends and classmates, feeling like a fool. That weekend, Marinette even invited me for a sleepover at her place; looking back on it now, I suspect it was to make me feel better, but I wasn't complaining.
"But then, when my mother finally showed up over a week later, it wasn't even for me but for some business-related reasons of hers. I asked her how she could be like that, and how she just blew me off… and some of the things she said to me…"
Chloé slammed her eyes shut and hunched over, holding herself as if trying to stop herself from falling apart. She even yanked her glasses from her face with one hand, then rubbing her face and eyes with her other hand.
"I'm sorry," Chloé whispered hoarsely. "I know better than to let it ruin my life, but it just really hurt, ya know?"
"It's okay, Chloé, I get it," Alya said, although she couldn't even begin to imagine her own mother acting this way.
Chloé nodded, looking down at the floor but at the same time staring off into space and focusing on nothing in particular.
Not sure what else to do and remembering what happened yesterday, Alya moved in and pulled Chloé into a strong hug.
"Alya, this isn't necessary," Chloé began to say, but Alya swiftly yet gently cut her off. "Look, really, I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me…"
"Don't overthink it," Alya muttered, still hugging Chloé. "You were there to help me, and now I'm here to help you too."
Alya could feel Chloé eventually nodding her head, and the blonde gratefully returned the hug.
"Thank you," Chloé whispered.
"Anytime," Alya whispered back.
As Chloé pulled away and wiped her face with a tissue, Alya said, "You can talk to me anytime, you know; I'm here for you, girl."
"Yeah," Chloé said with a sniff as she seemed to pull herself back together. "I know."
"If you don't mind me saying so…" Alya began to say, but then trailed off.
"What?" Chloé asked, catching on and not letting go. "What is it?" she pressed as she put her glasses back on.
"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but…"
"But…?"
"…well, you really don't like showing weakness, do you?"
Chloé seemed to consider that question for a moment, before finally answering, "No, I really don't. And I don't think it's a rich person thing, so much as it's a me thing."
"I totally get it. Still, either way, I can't imagine what that must be like for you," Alya said, quietly and sincerely. "I mean, it's one thing if somebody's mom passes away, but for her to just walk out on you like that…?"
Alya couldn't even begin to imagine either of her own parents doing such a thing to her own family. She couldn't imagine her own mother walking out on them to advance her culinary career, or her father walking out on them to explore new opportunities in caring for rare and exotic animals.
"Yeah, it's not right, but what can you do?" Chloé asked rhetorically with a little shrug.
"And I'm guessing that you need to put up the facade because of your tax bracket and how you're the mayor's daughter?"
"Yup." Glancing at Alya, Chloé then added, "I'm not complaining about my lifestyle, and I certainly won't claim it's anything like 'golden handcuffs' or 'gilded cage'… but it can get tiresome at times.
"Yeah, it's just me and my father," Chloé continued, "but we're fine with it. We've learned to adjust. Don't ever tell anybody I told you about this, Alya, but… well, before my little 'breakdown' after my twelfth birthday, my father tended to pass on most of the child-rearing duties to Jean and the rest of the hotel staff. I still remember him trying to make me feel better with this unbelievably glitzy cell phone case for my cell phone, and I told him that I didn't need any more trinkets, I just needed my family to be there."
Alya silently nodded, digesting Chloé's words. "And now?"
"Well, I'm pleased to say that I can't complain about him as a father," Chloé said, now sounding calmer after sounding so stressed from earlier. "He hasn't forgotten anything or neglected me in any way, if that's what you're worried about." And then after a thoughtful pause, Chloé smirked and shook her head. "Actually… no, forget it, it's nothing."
"Why, what is it?" Alya asked the other girl, unable to control her own curiosity.
"Just thinking about the one time since then when he ever passed off parental duties onto somebody else," Chloé said, with a funny smile on her face. "Ironic, because I can't exactly blame him for doing it." Seeing the curious look on Alya's face, Chloé asked, "Are you sure you really wanna know? Remember, all of this is secret, between you and me."
"I swear on my honor, Chloé," Alya said solemnly, even raising her hand as if she were about to testify in the court of law.
"Okay, then," Chloé replied, looking around the deserted changing room one more time. "If you really must know…" Here Chloé's face turned a little red, but she went through with it anyway. "It was the time he had to give me… The Talk."
Alya blinked. "What?"
"Yeah, he didn't think he could get through explaining all that stuff to me without either or both of us dying of embarrassment," Chloé explained, with a funny look on her face as she pressed forward with explaining it. "So he called up Marinette's mom and asked her to do it for him. He sounded like he wanted to beg her, but she was already more than happy to do it for him."
Alya nodded as she listened to what Chloé was saying, trying to imagine such a scene in her mind's eye… and then she had to clap her own hand against her mouth to suppress some shocked laughter.
Laughing softly and shaking her head again, Chloé continued, "She didn't make any demands or anything, but he was more than happy to return the favor all the same. Not long after that, when Marinette and her family had to drop everything to fly to Shanghai to visit some relatives — I think it was something about her great-uncle the chef? — my dad made sure they flew first class on the next flight out from Paris to Shanghai."
"Oh, so that is why we got to fly first class that time on a private jet!?" another girl's voice piped up, and both Alya and Chloé jolted and turned to see Marinette striding up to them, looking surprised.
"Wait, how long were you there and how much did you hear?" Chloé asked Marinette, sounding a little suspicious while at the same time sounding like she was trying to keep the suspicion out of her own voice.
"Seriously, we got to do that because your dad got my mom to speak to you about… that stuff?" Marinette reiterated, although she tried to keep her voice down to avoid attracting unwanted attention and causing embarrassment.
"Hey, I thought you knew!" Chloé said in defense of herself, and now Alya had to keep her hand clapped to her mouth to try and suppress even more laughter.
When she opened her eyes again, Alya saw both other girls giving her funny looks, and she held her own hands up in defense, saying, "I'm sorry, but c'mon, but this is too funny…"
Eventually, both Marinette and Chloé were also grinning themselves as they shared Alya's amusement at the situation.
They finished up in the changing room, and by the end of it, each of them already had a bulging shopping bag of their own. Alya was especially happy with her own purchase, which included a few things which Chloé recommended, as well as something which Marinette had pointed out.
"I love shopping," Chloé said happily, hauling her stuffed shopping bag along with her. Indeed, Alya hadn't seen Chloé happier than this before.
On the way out, they noticed a few female mannequins getting moved around, and they were all wearing summer swimsuits.
"Hm, you know, we might be able to get some swimsuits at a discounted price, given the time of year," Chloé mused. "How about it, are both of you set for the pool party on Saturday?"
"I'm fine," Marinette chimed in.
"I've got something too," Alya replied.
"Well, then we're all set," Chloé commented. And then, with a little smirk, she then added, "Seriously, though, did you check out that last swimsuit on that last mannequin? The, ahem, minimalist one? Seriously, anybody who wears that outfit would be one sneeze away from getting arrested for public indecency…"
Alya let out a shocked and scandalized laugh before she could stop herself, and Marinette threw her hands to her mouth to stifle her own giggling.
"Chloé!" Marinette chastised her best friend through the giggles.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," Chloé said, a little apologetically but still grinning like a fox.
"I'll admit, that was kinda funny," Alya admitted.
"Alright, then," Chloé said after they'd all gotten that out of their systems, "how about shoes next?"
And the more time Alya spent with these girls, the more she like them and was glad that she met them.
Of course, she still missed her other family and friends back in Martinique dearly… but she realized how lucky she was to make new friends such as these.
And now they were off to the shoe store.
Once again, Chloé was analyzing all of the available merchandise with a critical eye. And once again, Alya found herself drawn into the blonde's commentary: "Too childish… too gaudy… these high heels are too high… I can tell this pair would be uncomfortable because I can feel my feet hurting by just looking at it… this pair is so gem-encrusted with fake gems that it's ridiculous… somebody clearly wants to ape Jimmy Choo or Manolo Blahnik, but they just aren't doing a very good job at that…"
Once again, they spent several minutes going through these things, with Chloé's ongoing commentary permeating their range of hearing like background noise, until they finally made their way to a secluded corner where they could try on some shoes.
Things were going fine, until Chloé suddenly pulled out a pair of high heels which didn't look like they'd really fit her.
"Oh, they're not for me," Chloé said, noticing the curious looks on their faces. Turning to Marinette, she said, "Actually, I saw these and I thought of you. They'd look really nice on you, especially with the right outfit."
However, Marinette didn't seem all that enthused by the sight of them. Alya guessed that Marinette wasn't really fond of high heels.
"Come on, Marinette, give them a try!" Chloé encouraged her best friend.
"Chloé," Marinette protested, not quite a whine but halfway there, "this is begging for trouble. You know I'm clumsy…"
"All the more reason to practice," Chloé told her sagely. "Come on, give them a try. Don't you want to be able to walk down the runway at your own fashion show when you give the big speech? Come on, Marinette, you know you can do this."
From where she sat, Marinette still eyed the shoes wearily, as if they might be some kind of trap in disguise.
"Come on, Marinette, think of how wonderful that would be!" Chloé encouraged her. "Imagine the scene now: It's your first major show, the seats are packed with people watching you, including some reserved specifically for your parents and your friends, and they're all watching with pride as you walk down the cat walk, the fashion world's newest brilliant designer: Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" (Chloé finished this description with a flourish, almost sounding like an announcer herself.)
Heck, even Alya herself suddenly felt motivated after hearing Chloé's little pep talk.
Marinette looked apprehensive, before she swallowed her fear and put on a brave face.
"Yeah!" she declared. "I can do this!"
Standing upright from her seat and looking defiant, she looked down at her feet and took one step forward… then another… and another… and yet another after that…
She looked up to see both Chloé and Alya watching with hopeful and encouraging smiles, and that made her feel even more emboldened as she took another step forward…
Marinette smiled nervously. "Ha, I'm doing it, I — WAHHHH!"
She fell face forward and almost face-planted onto the floor, but before Alya could get up from her seat and spring into action, someone else had already beat her to it. Chloé moved forward in a blur, and in the next moment the blonde was holding the ravenette around the waist with an outstretched arm. But what really got Alya's attention was the unconcerned, no, almost bored look on Chloé's face, as if she was used to this and had done it before.
"Thanks, Rachelle," Marinette muttered, steadying herself and taking off those shoes.
"Don't sweat it," Chloé waved it away.
"Wow, Rachelle, you have a very good sense of balance," Alya commented. "Great reflexes, too."
"Thanks. I do both martial arts and fencing, and all those dancing lessons I took as a little kid can't have hurt either." And then, as an afterthought, she added, "Don't forget gymnastics, either…"
"Wait, both fencing and martial arts?" Alya asked, curious.
"Yeah," Chloé murmured as she continued rummaging through boxes of shoes. "Truth be told, I only really got into fencing a year or so ago to spend more time with Adrien, because it became one of the few reasons his father would let him out of the house."
"And she's good at it, too," Marinette added as she looked for another pair of flats to try on instead of another pair of high heels. "Like, scary good."
"Yes, well, I do it more for Adrien than myself," Chloé said.
Somehow, the idea of Chloé with a sword or any other kind of pointy weapon seemed strange in Alya's mind's eye.
"And martial arts?" Alya queried.
"Krav Maga," Chloé said simply.
"Come again?" Alya asked, not quite recognizing the name.
"It's a military self-defense and fighting system," Chloé rattled off, "developed for the Israeli military and related security forces, now used by all different kinds of forces around the world. It's really aggressive and brutal, but the point of it is to be able to finish a fight as quickly as possible if a confrontation is unavoidable."
"So in other words, it's just 'beat 'em up and run away,'" Alya surmised.
"Yeah, basically."
"Wow, I bet Nora would find that interesting."
Chloé blinked as she searched her memory for a frame of reference. "Your older sister, right?"
"Yeah, she does boxing." And then a thought occurred to Alya. "Heh, now I'm imagining who would win in a fight: you or her?"
"Well, I don't know if we would or could or should fight just because," Chloé said slowly. "I mean, what I practice, it could easily hurt somebody if you're not careful… maybe even kill them."
Alya did a double-take at those words, and reading Chloé's face, she could see that the blonde was completely serious.
"That, and there aren't really Krav Maga competitions," Chloé added. "That's how serious they are about it."
"Why?" Alya asked slowly. "Has anybody ever threatened you before?" Lowering her voice a little more, she then added, "Has anybody ever, I dunno, made a kidnapping threat or something?"
Now even Marinette had stopped what she was doing, furtively glancing at the other two girls instead.
If Chloé was at all worried about the possibility of something like that happening, then she didn't show it.
"Well, not that I know of," she said dismissively, "but I just take my personal safety very seriously, that's all."
"So you're not really worried about that kind of thing?" Alya asked.
And then Chloé did something unexpected, at least to Alya. She smirked and said, "Well, if any fools think they can take me, they've got another thing coming."
An awkward pause passed while Alya glanced at Marinette. From what Alya could tell, Marinette looked concerned too, as if she didn't like seeing this side of Chloé either. And if Alya was reading Chloé correctly, then the blonde either wasn't afraid of such a threat… or she almost welcomed the chance to beat up somebody.
Alya knew that she herself was pretty gung-ho, but even she didn't go around looking for fights. Honestly, something about this with Chloé made Alya just a little worried…
"Well, anyway," Chloé said, breaking off that particular train of thought for them, "what do you girls think of the shoes?"
Silently relieved at the change in topic, they all went back to talking about shoes. They even managed to find a nice pair of high-heeled boots which Marinette walked around in without tripping even once.
After they were done with clothes and shoes, they decided to check out the next store to catch their interest, which happened to be the music store.
"I'm gonna go look for anything by Jagged Stone and stuff like that," Marinette announced, heading off in that direction.
After Marinette headed off in the direction of the rock and heavy metal records, Alya decided to address something which had been on her mind.
"Hey, Rachelle?"
"Hm?"
"Hey, I just wanted to say… what you told me back in the changing room, about you and your mom… don't worry, I won't tell a soul," Alya reassured Chloé, gesture as if her lips were sealed.
"Never doubted it," Chloé said, just as reassuringly.
"Good," Alya replied with a smile. "I just wanted to make sure."
Chloé nodding, still smiling. "Don't worry about it, Alya."
"Thanks. So… what kind of music do you like the most?"
"Well, mostly classic rock and power ballads… especially stuff from the Eighties as well as the Nineties too."
And so they got to work on looking for new music to find and enjoy.
However, several minutes later, the girls got a surprise.
"Hey there, dudettes," a familiar boy's voice, and the three girls turned to see Nino farther down the aisle. And then he did a double take when he saw Chloé. "Whoa… who are you?"
Not breaking stride or ruining the act, Chloé continued acting like such a studious and erudite girl and stuck her hand out, saying, "Hi, I'm one of Marinette's friends. The name is Rachelle Dauphine. Nice to meet you."
Nino raised an eyebrow at this, while Alya gave her a bemused look. "Rachelle Dauphine?" she repeated incredulously, muttering it under her breath, just loud enough for only them to hear.
"What? I like dolphins, and dolphins are cool," Chloé whispered back to her. Alya nodded, amused by the fake full name.
Nino just grinned and shook his head. Still grinning, he said to Chloé, "Why you don't want to be an actress when you're so good at it is beyond me."
The blonde just shrugged as she took her hand back. "I dunno."
"Oh hi there, Nino!" they all heard Marinette say in her usual chipper tone, and they turned to see her walking back up to them with a few rock albums in her hand. "Looking for more music?"
"Yeah, but nothing in particular," Nino said easily. "Just trying to see if I can find any rare albums today… you never know when you might find a diamond in the rough."
"Why not just look for it online?" Alya replied. "Isn't everything online these days?"
"Yeah, true, but I just like the thrill of finding that rare treasure and holding it in my own hands," Nino said easily, flipping through the plastic CD cases and vinyl record sleeves as he spoke.
"Now that I can agree with," Chloé said thoughtfully. "Always good to have a hard copy of something in your possession."
"A bit old-fashioned, are we?" Alya asked Chloé in a teasing but still good-natured tone.
Chloé just shrugged. "Perhaps, but I'm just practical too."
"Yeah, Rachelle here is very practical, always the no-nonsense type," Marinette added with a wink.
"Yes, your friend Rachelle Dauphine here seems very nice, and I'm glad to have met her," Nino said with a wink, playing along. Marinette blinked and turned to Alya curiously, who just shrugged as if to say, Just go along with it.
"So, Alya, are you looking for anything in particular?" Nino asked her. "I'm guessing you're a Jagged Stone fan," he added, nodding to her shirt.
"Well, who isn't?" Alya replied easily as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So, what other singers or bands do you like?" she asked him in return.
They chatted for what felt like a few minutes about this music act or that one, until Alya felt somebody gently tapping her on the shoulder and turned to see Marinette behind her. "Let's just keep an eye on the time," she gently reminded Alya. "No offense, Nino," he hastily added.
"None taken, dudette," Nino said easily.
"So… what other music do you like?" Alya asked him. "What else would you recommend?"
Nino was happy enough to start listing his favorite music groups to her, and she instantly recognized a few of them, even the more obscure ones.
And so Alya chatted with Nino for a little more to finish up their conversation, and she was surprised to see how much in common with him. As she rattled off the names of some songs and musical performers she liked, she was pleasantly surprised to see that he knew the same things, and could almost finish her sentences for her.
"It's almost like…" she began to say.
"…I'm reading your mind?" he finished for her.
They both looked each other in the eye for a moment, and then burst out laughing together in perfect stereo.
Nino was shaking his head in amusement, and then he seemed to notice something. Glancing down at his watch, he suddenly said, "Oh, shoot! I gotta get back home. I'm supposed to be watching my little brother tonight, because my folks are going out for dinner by themselves."
"Babysitting little siblings?" Alya asked him. "Yeah, I hear ya. I do that with my little sisters all the time."
"Little sisters? Really?"
"Yeah, double trouble."
"Ooh, I hear ya. We'll talk more later, okay?"
"Sure thing, Nino. Go! Get home as fast as you can!"
"See ya later, Alya!" he said with a wave, before briskly walking out of the store and the rest of the mall (as opposed to running out at full speed).
Alya stared after him for a moment, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and then she turned to see Marinette and Chloé watching her from a distance. The two girls just gave Alya small yet knowing grins.
"What?" she asked them, sounding a little annoyed.
"Oh, nothing," Chloé said in a slightly coy voice.
"You just look so cute together, that's all," Marinette added, apparently less coy and more innocent about it than her blonde best friend.
"Oh, hush, both of you," Alya said, handwaving it away.
Both the blonde and the ravenette grinned and then began to look interested in other things, or at least pretended to take an interest in other things, apparently moving on from that topic…
Still, hanging out more with Nino doesn't sound like such a bad idea, Alya found herself thinking to herself. Deciding not to dwell on it for too long, she turned her attention back to browsing through music with the rest of them.
As they were looking through music, Chloé became a little thoughtful as she saw one name in particular.
"Aaliyah," she muttered. "I remember her." After seeing the funny looks which both Alya and Marinette were giving her, she elaborated, "I mean, I remember listening to her songs somewhere along the way." Looking at the album again, she muttered, "I can't believe she died in a freakin' plane crash like that…"
"Actually, I might be named after her," Alya admitted.
Both Marinette and Chloé turned to look at her, and Alya elaborated, "I mean, I was born not long after that happened to her. Maybe my parents really did name me after her?"
"What, you've never asked them?" Chloé asked, sounding more curious than anything else.
"I dunno," Alya shrugged. "I guess it's just never been high on my list of priorities."
"Fair enough," Chloé commented.
And with that out of the way, they finally continued on their way to the next store, whichever one caught their interest the most.
…Although, along the way, they did see several children lining up for face paint from an artist. Near them were lots of other children who'd had their faces painted already.
"What a zoo," Chloé commented jokingly. Alya and Marinette both hummed in agreement.
And then they saw a few of the kids messing around before being separated by their respective parents, but not before one of them snarled and yowled like a wildcat, even trying to leap like one onto its prey.
"Didn't I see something like this in Mean Girls?" Alya commented. Marinette shrugged, but it was Chloé's reaction which piqued Alya's curiosity.
Chloé laughed… for a little too long, in Alya's honest opinion. To the surprise of both Alya and Marinette, she even dropped her shopping bags and doubled over laughing, clutching her sides.
"That scene… from Mean Girls… with the kids at the mall… acting like animals," Chloé wheezed with laughter.
Alya exchanged a look with Marinette, who looked just as confused as her. Alya felt the urge to ask Marinette if this was typical for Chloé, but decided against it.
Still, something had to be done about it…
"Uh, Chloé?" Marinette whispered to her best friend, gently tapping her on the back. "I think you're beginning to draw attention to yourself…"
And that seemed to snap the blonde back into place, as she quickly sobered up and instantly began to appear normal again. "Ahem… right, sorry," she said. "Alright, onto the next store, then…"
And if she noticed and curious stares from a few onlookers, then she didn't show it. After exchanging and confused glance with Marinette, Alya just shrugged and went along with it.
"Let me guess, you really like that movie Mean Girls?" Alya asked Chloé.
"Eh, it's fine," Chloé said with a shrug.
"If you don't mind me saying so… you could almost pass for Regina's twin," Alya commented before she could stop herself.
Chloé gave Alya a funny look over her own shoulder, and Alya instantly regretted it. She couldn't help it that her mind went on all these tangets. "Sorry, I didn't mean that as an insult!" she hastily amended.
Chloé nodded. "Okay, that I'll accept, thank you," she said with a small smile.
"Sorry, I didn't think you'd take the comparison that way," Alya admitted.
"Oh, please," Chloé said, rolling her eyes but not too hard. "I just hate being compared to every stereotypical rich blonde girl in every chick flick you've ever seen. No, really, I've heard them all…" And here she began to tick them off on her fingers: "Cher Horowitz, Elle Woods, Regina George, Heather McNamara and Heather Chandler…"
"Wait, you actually know the hair colors of all three Heathers?" Alya said, admittedly a little impressed by Chloé's memory.
"Yeah, I've seen that movie enough times," Chloé admitted. "Heather McNamara had strawberry blonde hair, Heather Chandler had blonde hair, and Heather Duke had auburn hair," she rattled off, as if it was a very commonly-known fact.
"I tried to watch it once, but once was enough," Marinette admitted. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I know it wasn't too bad, but it was just too dark for my tastes…"
"Eh, that's alright," Chloé replied, "it's not for everybody."
"I'm guessing you don't like scary movies much?" Alya asked Marinette.
"Nah, can't say I do," Marinette said, shaking her head.
"Okay, so I guess we can forget about the old trick of watching a horror movie with someone as an excuse to cuddle up with him," Alya responded to that. "So I guess that won't be in our playbook for helping you date Adrien?"
But the mention of Adrien's name made her seem to reconsider this stance, or at least if the new thoughtful and dreamy look on her face was anything to go by. "Huh," Marinette said aloud, cocking her head. "Well, maybe something not too scary."
Chloé smirked. "I'm just full of good ideas."
They all got a laugh out of that, and a brief silence lingered until…
"Wait, what were we talking about again?" Marinette asked them, trying to remember which way this conversation had been going.
It took them a moment before Chloé answered, "Oh yeah, we were talking about chick flicks."
And so they continued talking about the usual girly things as they made their way to the next store… and the store after that… and the next store after that…
Soon enough, they'd been to just about every store in the mall which caught their interest, from the cosmetics place where they'd tried some free samples of make-up to the bookstore where they compared and contrasted their tastes in reading material.
Making one last stop, they decided to try this smoothie place before leaving.
All three of them got fruit smoothies with varying ingredients (and then Chloé took them all by surprise by paying for all three of them before anybody could object), and they found a nice secluded table where they could talk amongst themselves without being bothered.
"Oh, by the way," Alya spoke up at one point, suddenly remembering something, "I'm working on a new blog for Paris' heroes. I was thinking… The Ladyblog. You know, named after Ladybug!"
Marinette gave Alya a funny look at that while Chloé pondered it. "What, you think it sounds too silly or something?" Alya asked Marinette, not offended but merely curious.
"Oh, no no no!" Marinette denied, waving her hands in front of her as if to dispel that. "I think it's cute and clever! I just wonder what Ladybug herself would think of it…"
"Well, I'll be sure to make a note of it the next time I see her," Alya said confidently. And then, because she couldn't help herself, she then added, "Well, hopefully it won't involve me in another situation like that where she needs to save my life again. "And then she muttered under her breath, "At least I got millions of views from the footage captured on my phone between the Eiffel Tower and when Ladybug caught me, so I'll take that as a consolation prize…"
She scrunched her eyes shut, trying not to think about that near-death experience too much, and then she noticed that neither other girl had said anything. When she opened her eyes again and looked up, she saw both Marinette and Chloé looking at her with very concerned looks.
"Alya, are you alright?" Marinette asked her in a very concerned tone to match her expression, and something about it touched Alya's heart.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, waving it away.
"Did you talk to somebody about it?" Chloé said quietly, now somehow looking even more like the humble studious girl in this disguise of hers.
"I got home, got hugged to death by my parents with a stern talking-to mixed in, then puked my guts out in the bathroom when nobody was looking, and then I tried to comfort myself by looking at all my accumulating views from my video and the rest of my blog," Alya rattled off.
"Well, that's one way of coping with it," Chloé commented.
Alya nodded. "I'm mostly dealing with it by thinking about other things instead," she explained. "Now I just need content to put on my blog until the next big thing happens with our new heroes… how about it, you think maybe Ladybug and Cat Noir have feelings for each other?" Alya added with a smirk.
Marinette, who had been taking a sip of her fruit smoothie, suddenly spluttered, prompting Chloé to forcefully pat her on the back.
"Alya!" Marinette spluttered after clearing her throat. "Alya… maybe you shouldn't go that route. I mean, doesn't that sound like something a tabloid would do, running on speculation for views like that?"
"Hey, I would never do that," Alya said, subconsciously raising her voice as she also rose from her seat. "If I wanted to tell tall tales, then I'd be a novelist and not a journalist!"
Both Marinette and Chloé reared back a little, with Marinette now looking a little afraid and Chloé looking like she was going to move to try and shield her best friend from Alya. And then, realizing that she might have gotten the attention of a few other bystanders, Alya forced herself to calm down and sat back down.
And then Alya told her tale.
"I would never report false or unverified information," Alya said. "At least not knowingly and deliberately," she then added. "Not after… well, not after that happened."
Here she glanced down at the tabletop, her mind taking her back to one of the last major things to happen to her and her family back in Martinique…
"Why, what happened?" Marinette asked softly.
Alya glanced back up to see both other girls looking at her with genuine concern.
With a heavy sigh, Alya let it out.
"Long story short… some local muckraker told some whoppers about my father and the zoo where he worked."
Seeing the shocked looks on their faces, Alya continued, "Some local 'journalist' — and I use that term quite loosely — decided to try and make a name for herself by reporting on local outrages. My father 'allegedly' failed to lock up the cages one evening after the local zoo closed for the day, causing a local panic until things finally calmed down. But by then, the damage had been done."
Both girls looked aghast. Marinette just looked horrified, while Chloé looked disgusted as well as outraged on Alya's behalf.
For a moment there, Alya scrunched her eyes and clenched her hands into claws or almost-fists, feeling the anger coursing through her body at the thought of the muckraker who'd made things so difficult for her family… before she finally got a hold of herself and decided to let it go, or at least for now.
Staring off into space, Alya muttered aloud, "I also wonder if that's part of why we moved, or even the main reason why we moved: Just to get away from what happened back there."
"Tell me who this person is, so I know who they are and how to avoid them," Chloé said in a dangerous tone which did not bode well for this far-off liar. Somehow, Alya got the feeling that Chloé didn't want to know this other person's name for only avoiding them.
But at the same time, Alya couldn't quite stop herself from saying out loud, "Chloé, please don't go after them for me."
Chloé jerked back as if surprised, and Alya was also surprised with herself for just blurting it out like that. After a moment, Chloé finally said, "I wasn't gonna…"
Alya quickly glanced at Marinette. The ravenette just shrugged, and making an expression to Alya as if trying to convey that this was typical for Chloé.
So, she can be just as gung-ho like me, Alya thought to herself. Good to know.
"Look, Chloé, I appreciate it, but don't go running off trying to avenge me or my family, okay?" Alya asked Chloé.
If Chloé was at all disappointed by this, then she didn't show it. "Of course not, Alya," she said earnestly. "I'm always happy to help, but I don't jump into other people's battles if they don't want me to."
"Good," Alya said, before deciding to finally settle this topic and be done with it.
"My point being," Alya declared to conclude this anecdote and this personal story of hers, "I would never do that to anybody else, especially after what me and my family went through."
Glancing over at Marinette again, Alya then added, "Also, I wasn't seriously going to shamelessly speculate on my blog about Ladybug and Cat Noir being romantically involved; I was just thinking out loud here, just between us."
"Oh, okay," Marinette stuttered. "And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you upset like that."
"And I'm sorry if I scared you too," Alya replied, saying that to both Marinette and Chloé.
"Are we cool?" Chloé asked. "Are we still having a good day here at the mall, as friends?"
Alya was touched by the words and gestures of both other girls. Friends…
Composing herself and allowing herself to smile, Alya said, "Yeah, we're still friends, and I'm still enjoying this day at the mall with you girls."
All three of them smiled at that.
"By the way, I was going to say," Chloé added, "if you wanted to wanted to go from being a journalist to being a novelist, you wouldn't be the first writer in history to do so." Jerking her thumb at a nearby bookstore, she said, "Look at Albert Camus or Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Or maybe even George Orwell or Ernest Hemingway."
Something about Chloé suggesting English-language authors mixed in with French-language authors seemed a little off to Alya for some reason, but she appreciated the ideas. "Seriously? Hemingway?"
"Yeah, he was hanging around Paris in the Twenties with all those other expatriates," Chloé said. Turning to Marinette, she said, "Remember that last movie night with all the girls before summer break? We rented Midnight in Paris?"
Marinette giggled. "Yeah, that was a cute and clever movie."
Leaning over again to Alya, almost conspiratorially, Chloé mock-whispered to Alya, "I think some of the girls just wanted to gush over Owen Wilson."
Alya chuckled softly at that, and Marinette giggled a little more. As Marinette got that out of her system, Chloé added, "How about it, let us know when you can do a sleepover with us? We'll let you pick whatever movie you want!"
"Deal!" Alya gushed without hesitation.
They continued to chat more for the next several minutes, about the sorts of things which teenage girls in Paris would chat about…
And then Marinette checked the time. "Actually, we should get going," she said, "especially if we're all going to be back home by dinner."
Alya felt a little pang of disappoint; despite the occasional heart-to-heart talks with the other girls, she really was enjoying this expedition to the mall. She really did like hanging out with these girls and being friends with them.
With a sudden flash of inspiration, she said aloud, "Hey, wanna take a picture? The three of us here at the mall? Something for the scrapbook?"
Marinette and Chloé exchanged looks, and they both shrugged and assented. "Yeah, sure, why not?" Marinette replied.
"And don't worry, Rachelle, we won't give anything away," Alya said with a wink.
Chloé smiled back at her. "Never crossed my mind," she replied confidently.
And so the three of them clustered together while Alya snapped a few selfies on her beloved smartphone.
"Wow, these came out great!" she enthused. Then looking up at Chloé, she then added, "Maybe we can take other pictures like this later, when you're, well, yourself and not in disguise?"
"You got it, Alya," Chloé said with a wink.
"Looking forward to it."
And with that, they finished up their smoothies, threw the empty cups in the trash, and made their way out of the mall with their bulging shopping bags.
But on the way out of the mall, Chloé stopped and looked at something in a different direction.
"Chloé, what-" Alya began to ask, but then she saw where the blonde was looking. Marinette let out a small gasp, holding her hands in front of her mouth.
There was a tired and weary-looking veteran sitting on the ground, slumped against a building wall. He looked like he could have been as old as her own father, Otis Cesaire… or was that the weariness making the other man look older than he really was? Alya tried to make out the cardboard sign he was holding, and although it was too blurred, possibly from being exposed to water or rain, she could guess what it read.
"Wait right here," Chloé muttered to the other two girls. After carefully putting her own shopping bags on the ground next to Alya and Marinette, she confidently strode over to where the veteran was sitting and quietly spoke to him. Alya couldn't make out what she was saying. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a fistful of cash and handed it to the veteran. He looked up at her with what looked like shock and gratitude, but she tried to downplay it. However, she was also pointing off to something in another direction. The man looked like he couldn't believe his luck, and he smiled uncontrollably as he shook Chloé's hand. With an encouraging nod and smile, she bade him farewell as he collected his things and walked off.
Once he was gone, Chloé strode back up to them, somehow looking both happy and sad at the same time. Or perhaps "both pleased and somber" would have been a better way to describe her conflicted facial expression.
"What was that all about?" Marinette asked her best friend.
"I just gave him whatever leftover change I had from the shopping spree and pointed him in the direction of a decent shelter," Chloé said matter-of-factly.
"Rachelle, that must've been at least fifty euros!" Alya exclaimed.
"Yup," Chloé said casually with a shrug of her shoulders. "And he needed it more than I do. A lot more…"
For a moment there, Chloé seemed distant, as if she could see something far-off which only she could see, but a moment later, it was gone again.
"So," Chloé said, "who's up for a cab ride back home? If we're running short on time, then maybe we should go that route."
Rachel didn't waste any time in flagging down a taxi. She pulled a few crisp banknotes out of a secret place in her purse and slipped them to the driver, who knew to be discrete.
First they dropped off Alya at her apartment, and she gave both of them a strong hug before she got out with all her purchases.
"I really enjoyed going to the mall today," Alya said, giving both of them a strong hug at once. "Let's definitely do this again sometime."
"Sure thing," Chloé replied with a smile.
"Yeah, definitely!" Marinette said with a little more enthusiasm.
And so after they bade Alya farewell, Rachel directed the cab driver to take them back to Marinette's home. They both got out together, and she went inside along with Marinette to get herself a cup of coffee and some baked goods too. And so after saying goodbye to Marinette and her parents, Rachel made her way back to Le Grand Paris Hotel, carrying a cup of coffee and a box of food along with her bulging bags of purchases.
It could be a bit of a tricky balancing act, but it felt good to go shopping like again.
Rachel snuck in through the hotel's backdoor, along with everything she was carrying. A few of the hotel staff gave her knowing looks and reassuring smiles, very much accustomed to this habit of hers. She smiled and nodded in return, handing over the box of baked treats as something special to treat the hotel staff and employees. (These little acts of kindness, done from the kindness of Rachel's heart, went a long way with the workers.)
Yes, she'd had a good time at the mall, and she'd had a good time with Marinette as well as Alya, doing the usual thing with her best friend for the first time in a while as well as getting to know the new girl better.
But by the time Rachel returned to her room, some of her darker thoughts began to creep back in again.
And it went back to earlier that very morning…
She remembered getting quite a surprise when seeing that Marc Anciel kid for the first time. The resemblance to Marco was uncanny, from the complexion to the long hair to the love of comic books.
A rush of memories had come back to Rachel in that moment, all of those times when Marco made some snarky or sarcastic comment, and to which he usually replied with "Shut up, Marco" or some variation thereof.
And then there was Nino's smart-aleck comment, comparing her to the Terminator…
Marco was even more stressed by his personal problems than usual, but even though Cassie was doing her best to help him, he expressed it his usual way with his sarcasm.
"Cassie, everyone here has problems. Ax is the only member of his species within a trillion miles who's not a Controller; you're a pacifist who spends half her time battling aliens; Jake is just a dumb jock trying to play General Eisenhower; Rachel is about three millimeters away from morphing permanently into the Terminator; and, oh, by the way, Tobias is a bird who lives in a tree and eats mice for breakfast. We all have problems. We are not exactly the poster children for Mental Health Week."
(Irony: The third Terminator movie, with that series' first female Terminator, hadn't come out yet in Rachel's time.)
The scary thing was, Marco had been correct, in his own sarcastic way. It might not have been Rachel's intention to permanently become a heartless, inhuman killing machine, but there were times when she came close to irreversibly going past some point of no return…
Almost gave up my own humanity in order to protect humanity… oh, the irony.
Too bad I can't exactly see a therapist about this, Rachel thought to herself. Between the emergence of new evil bugs which could control people, enemies which somehow resembled her old foes, and now total strangers resembling her old friends and teammates in such uncanny ways… Is this the week for the universe or multiverse or whatever to be throwing my past back in my face or what?
She thought back to the title of that book Sabrina had mentioned… she couldn't recall ever seeing that book in her previous life, but she thought maybe she'd seen that author's name on some of the books' spines in some library's "young adult" literature section back then.
But now, even more so, she felt like a phony.
If anyone around here was a "counterfeit person," then it had to be her.
Counterfeit daughter. Counterfeit friend. Counterfeit human being.
They would abandon you if they knew the truth about you, she thought to herself for the umpteenth time, but also unable to stop herself from doing so.
Rachel tried to busy herself by relaxing and getting changed. She took off her hat, her glasses, her earrings, putting them all aside in proper places, but then the pinging of her smartphone caught her attention.
It was a message from Alya: Thanks, girl, I loved the trip to the mall! Save this one for the scrapbook! Your friend, Alya
She looked at the picture of herself along with Marinette and Alya again, with all of them looking so happy. She saved it in a safe place, and decided that she might print it out later.
Such good friends, she thought.
But as much as she loved and appreciated her friends in this life, she couldn't help but also think about her other friends, the ones who she used to know as well as fight alongside to save the world…
AUTHOR'S NOTES: So yeah, I felt that we could use some more character development, especially for Nino and Alya in this story, albeit for different reasons.
Interesting bit of irony: The third Terminator movie, which was the first to feature a female Terminator (or would that be "Terminatrix"?) hadn't come out yet in Rachel's time.
Regarding that book Counterfeit Son by Elaine Marie Alphin… OK, there's a reason I mentioned this book, and not because of the thing with imposters and double identities, like with all those movies in the previous chapter. There's something of a funny little connection between this book's author and Animorphs. That author's husband, Arthur Alphin, actually helped with some details in later Animorphs books, especially in #51 when Marco has his joyride in the tank; since Mr. Alphin once served in the U.S. Army, he helped with the details for that. Just an interesting little bit of Animorphs-related trivia.
And how could I not highlight any such similarities between Marco and Marc!?
Kim's a bit of a jerk, and while Chloé isn't a bully in this AU, I don't exactly see him becoming the class bully to fill that vacancy. So, Ms. Bustier's class doesn't really have a designated "class bully" — or not until a certain new kid comes along…
Major thanks to Ghostpainters for doing this chapter's illustration! You can find her (and this image) on DeviantArt!
Also, as for those stereotypical blonde girls in this movies… going by my reconstructed timeline, Rachel could have seen Heathers and Clueless in her own lifetime, but probably not Legally Blonde and definitely not Mean Girls.
Alya was named after the famous R&B star Aaliyah, who tragically died in August 2001 in a plane crash. (For that matter, many Miraculous fans might already know that all of the members of the Cesaire family are named after famous musicians.) The Animorphs, being 90s kids, would have heard Aaliyah's songs on the radio. So I just wanted to work that in somehow.
And what did you all think about that backstory I invented for the Cesaire family and they're leaving Martinique? I hope it doesn't seem forced, but I put that in to explain the move around the world… as well as establish that Alya WON'T stoop to the level of attention-hungry journalist as seen in countless saltfics.
Up next, we finally get to see my first OC akuma…
Oh, also, somebody made a comic with a little inspiration from this story of mine! (IT'S AT INSTAGRAM) p/CdjN0MeNOlB/
(IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT)
(NO, don't worry, I'm NOT abandoning this story!)
Let me just say how grateful I am for those of you who are still following me. No, nobody has been nagging me for updates, for which I am grateful… although somehow that makes me feel even worse. I don't want anybody to think that I'm being lazy or abusing their patience. I've just been dealing with depression and other Real Life concerns. I really do want to finish and continue this story, but it's a matter of me dealing with everything going on IRL (especially these days with everything going on in the world) as well as trying to plot out the rest of this story on top of rereading Animorphs and catching up with Miraculous. Again, thank you for reading this and sticking with me; I am indescribably grateful for your continued support.
(Also, there's got to be a better way for me to keep in touch and give alerts; what would you recommend? Discord? The forums at SpaceBattles? An email newsletter?)
