Chapter Five
Nathalie sat opposite from Adrien, her laptop in between the two of them. Even thousands of miles apart, she still was able to monitor his father's scheduling and order him a coffee with three creamers and no sugar. Technology was a wonderful thing, at least the full time assistant thought so. The seating could be better. She made a note of that. She could feel the tracks beneath them even as they slid on by and cut through the wilderness of the lesser districts. This had been her idea, which was why she was the one to accompany her boss's son on the trip.
They had needed damage control. The Agreste brand would see a major drip in stock value if their holders thought that their money would be going into paying Adrien's way to winning the Games instead of continuing the build of their business. The public needed some sort of reassurance that Adrien would be treated as every other model tribute, so, she got them on the first and fastest train she could book and had them careening through the country to meet up with the tribute train that would take the District 8 tributes into the Capitol to make their debut. He would ride in with the Dupain girl and charm just about everyone at the train station in the Capitol.
Currently, the boy was in a foul mood, nearly the worst she had ever seen him in. Too bad they weren't looking to take photos of him in leather jackets or atop motorcycles. At least his pout and angry brow would be worth something then. And she would remind him of that "Adrien." She snapped, garnering his attention "Stop with that face. If your muscles get too tense like that, tomorrow, everyone will think you have anger issues."
"I am angry." His hard green eyes barely phased the woman. She was like a damn robot, it was unnerving.
"Well figure out a way to get over it." Checking her watch, and looking at the sunset out the window she noted the late hour "Soon, you'll have to meet with your tribute partner and you'd better start making a good first impression. From the records I found on her, she's likely to be no competition to you, but if you can figure out what sort of areas she likes to hide, then you can sell her to the careers. Statistically speaking, if you were to join them, the chances of you making it to the later stages of the game increase dramatically."
He nearly hissed "I'm not selling her out just to increase my odds! Are you even a fucking person? Or did my father just hire someone to handcraft you to be as emotionless and calculating as he is?"
She assumed that she would get this kind of reaction out of him. She swore, if she didn't know any better, she would not believe that he was the son of Gabriel Agreste. He is just so attached to his emotions. He doesn't ever think with a clear head, he's all heart and it makes Nathalie wonder if his father was ever like this in his younger years. Probably not, he got all if not most of his traits from his mother. The assistant sighed "I'm just thinking with a clear, nonobjective head. And I'm doing all of this for your benefit." She closes her laptop "You do know that this affects us much as it does you, right?" With a dismissive wave of her hand she cuts of his next words "Not just for your modelling or the stocks or anything like that. I'm just telling you that your father does care about you and your well being. He might not show it, but he has been afraid of this possibility since he found out about it. We don't want to lose you Adrien."
Her words stunned Adrien. It is one of the few times she ever sounded human, he could evenly call it motherly. Suddenly, he is plagued with guilt and it is written all over his face. His father did try, he wanted to make sure his son was safe. And now he had left the Capitol and his father and didn't even say a proper goodbye. Would Adrien be allowed to see his father again? Or would he only be allowed to see the man from afar and not be able to say sorry or thank him? "You'll tell my father that I'm sorry, won't you?"
"He already knows Adrien. That's just what you do for your kids." She reassured him. Truth was, her voice sounded stronger than how she actually felt about Gabriel's feelings for the young model, but someone had to be able to comfort the motherless boy. She reopened her laptop, feeling successful in appeasing the teenager "Let's continue with my reports and calculations. We've already had Vincent reassigned to work as your stylist for the Games, so he'll be able to make sure you look stunning for the cameras. He's already begun work for your Opening Ceremony outfit. Thankfully, from the last measurements he took, he should have everything in the right size, so long as you don't grow much more."
Stretching his arms, he sighed "I should stop growing. The growth spurt pains have stopped so hopefully I'll stay this height."
"Excellent. I've also constructed a new dietary regime for you to follow. It's similar to your summer one, but I've added in a higher count of protein and calories considering that you will need to build up your muscle mass in a short amount of time. Here is a print out of it, I have sent a copy to your mentor, who is by the way, Plagg Mittel, you know, that action hero actor. He should be on a similar diet so you must listen to everything he tells you and follow his exercise routines to the letter." She handed over a folder with a few papers inside. Adrien flipped through the first few that went over his diet and exercise, and his new mentor. And then he saw an unfamiliar face, with notes "There you will find the contests that we believe will be the best suited for you to get acquainted with. Mostly careers, but if they neglect to accept you into the group, we have also devised a 'B Group' if you will that you should have no trouble collecting and joining."
"Wait a second, you just expect me to walk up to these guys and start making friends?"
"Not friends Adrien, accomplices. Having a group increases your odds of survival."
He closed the folder "I can't do that! God! Have you ever seen me interact with anyone my age? I'm a mess."
"But you and the President's daughter, Chloe Bourgeois are always together during your free time." She pulls up his schedule, like she can find how she has been mistaken.
"Stop looking at your screen like you'll find some error on it for me to fix it!" He pushed at her laptop, turning it to face away from the two of them "Sure Chloe is my friend, but that's only because she made me her friend. I never have made a friend by myself." He has to bite his tongue when a pair of blue hair and dark hair pop into his mind's eye. He has to admit, even with her, she just picked him up as her friend and he went along for the ride "I don't know how. And trust me, I've tried. The other models just think I'm weird or a daddy's boy. I can't convince 23 other people that I've never met before to be my friend."
Nathalie grabbed her laptop back "Then we'll have to work on it. I'll speak with your Escort, he must be able to train you to do that."
Adrien wants to argue the fact that you can't train someone to learn how to be friendly, but she is too soaked up in typing to be bothered with.
The train slows and outside the window, the view of the sunset is obscured by a halted train. As it slows, Adrien looks into the compartment windows of the train. There is the odd avox placed here or there, District 6 train workers and Peacekeepers, but suddenly, two pigtails catch his eye. For a few moments, he's able to see Marinette following behind a bald headed man. The moments don't hold up for long enough before the train continues to move all the way down the tracks and then stop.
His grip on his folder gets tighter "I guess this is our stop."
Nathalie, who was also viewing the other train nods "Yes. I'll escort you to the entrance of the other train and then return here."
"Wait, you're not coming back to the Capitol with me?"
She shakes her head "No. The only reason that your father allowed me to come with you and not another assistant on this journey is because he needed me to continue onto District 8 to oversee a construction project for a new factory there that will produce more cloth for Agreste designs."
"Oh." He sighed. He holds back the 'Of course' that is bubbling in the back of his throat.
She packed up her laptop "Let's be on our way."
He stood up and followed her out, where Peacekeepers come and pat him down for any weapons. They then lead the two of them to an entrance in the train, the many compartments of where the passengers of the train are allowed. On the first step up the train he looked back at Nathalie "I'll see you?"
"I dare to hope so Adrien. Look over my notes and take care." She waves him goodbye as he stepped out of view into the train. A Peacekeeper followed the young man in.
After a minute of being taken through the train, Adrien could feel the silence and threatened to burst it "Sooo, where exactly are you taking me?"
Beneath his vision, he side glanced the tall model, which was difficult considering he stood over six feet "To your assigned room. It's bedtime."
The sun had just set, it was hardly bedtime, but he was not about to clarify that to someone toting a gun at his hip "Right, gotcha. Is there like a schedule or something I should know about the train?"
The Peacekeeper grunted "Not one you have to be concerned with."
Damn, dude was about as talkative as an avox. He already missed Vincent. Thankfully, he would be his stylist and he wouldn't have to worry about not being able to see him again.
At his door, the Peacekeeper opened it for him and waved him in. Thinking the man would close the door after him, he turned around to lock it, but the man stepped inside and bumped into him. He pushed Adrien forward "Move it."
The blond scrambled out of his way and further into the room. It held a single bed in the middle of the room. In front of it was a dresser with a TV on top of it and a door leading to the bathroom just off to the left hand side.
The Peacekeeper grabbed the remote off the dresser "You use this to control the room, lights, TV, and the window. If you need room service, hit this button and an avox will come for you, in the case of an emergency, slip open the plastic shield here and hit the button and someone will come running for you. Do Not hit the button if it ain't an emergency, got it pretty boy?" He held out the remote to him.
Adrien reached for the remote only to have it taken away.
"Got it?" He repeated.
"I got it." He answered and took the remote.
The man left, closing the door behind him but not locking it. The teen shifted his weight from one foot to the other and chewed on the inside of his lip. What was he suppose to do now? The reasonable thing would be to order some room service for dinner and then study up on his folder. Tomorrow would be a big day. The train would take them to the Remake, and in the late afternoon, the Tributes would ride their chariots to the City Circle to present themselves to the Capitol. Well, the Capitol knew him, just not as a Hunger Games contestant. That would be the smart play.
But he wasn't ever called out on his brilliance.
Adrien set down his folder and the remote on the dresser and peeked outside his door. No one was around. That was a good sign. He really rather not run into any of the Peacekeepers onboard. He just wanted to see if he could find Marinette. She was somewhere on here. His only questioning thought was what would he do once he did see her? It had been three years and when they parted it had been under stressful and confusing circumstances, so where exactly did they stand? He just wanted to find that out.
He continued through the hall. The car he was in seemed to hold about 8 rooms, but the cars next to both of his also had 8 rooms as well, totaling 24 rooms. He knew that he could take out one room because it was his own, so there was 23 possibilities. That was, if Marinette was even in her room at the moment. She could be with the district escort or their mentors. Even if he had watched all the Games since he turned 12, he couldn't remember ever hearing of a victor from District 8, but he assumed that there was at least one or two of them. All he knows for sure is that Plagg is one of them, if there are more. None of the victors of the Games were old enough to die just yet. His mother would still be a mentor if she hadn't disappeared.
Perhaps he should just wait til the morning to see her. No way, he'll never be able to sleep if he can't talk to her. He can remember the sleepless weeks he endured after their sudden separation. He can chuckle at the 14 year old fantasies he had of sneaking onto a train and finding her again, if only to say goodbye properly.
Then a great idea popped into Adrien's head. He went back into his room and picked up the remote, calling an avox for room service. She arrived moments later. Her and the other avoxes must share a living space in or near the rooms due to her quick arrival. She is dressed in red as they all are and it's easy for him to ignore her bright orange eye in favor of commanding her "Show me to Marinette Dupain-Cheng's room."
Bowing her head, she crooks her fingers in a 'come hither' and steps back into the dimly lit hall. The teen follows her lead, leaving the train car they were in and go into the next. At the second door on the left, she stops and holds her hand out to it, signalling their arrival.
He nodded to her "That will be all." He dismisses her. For some reason she stands there, unmoving. He supposes that she must stand there since this is a girl's room he is walking into, a girl that no one knows that he knows and should be his competitor. He slides the door open and steps in only to nearly trip over a silver platter.
On the bed, he hears a groan "I really told them not to need me."
Adrien's head whips up to the voice. On the edge of the bed, nursing a second platter filled with cheese and a bottle of wine between his thighs is none other than superstar action hero Plagg Mittle! He has to admit, he is a fan and seeing the tall man with middle eastern heritage is star striking. Even if he is suppose to learn from his man. His cheeks go a vibrant red "Oh, sorry, my bad. Hahaha! I must have the wrong room-" He backpedals and tries to exit from the room, but the door is slammed shut and the metal lock setting into place by the avox on the other side of the door is shocking.
"Nuh uh kid, ya got the right room. I just wished you'd have done it before a down three plates of cheese and two bottles of Merlot, which by the way had twenty years on it. Very tasty. Want a sip?" He holds on the bottle to the young model.
Standing in the doorway and unsure of what to do and confused, he shrugs "I'm good. But what do you mean I got the right room? I was just looking for-" He stops himself. He is not sure who he can trust and even if Plagg is his mentor, he probably shouldn't know how his and Mar-
"Marinette? She should be in her room right now taking a shower. She stinks."
How did he know that? What the hell does he mean?
Before he can get all his questions out of his mouth, Plagg stands. He is just as tall as Adrien but packs double the lean muscle that he does. He waved his hand "I am just going to preemptively stop all the stupid questions you got buzzing through those pretty blond locks of yours, alright? So shut up. I'm Plagg, I'm your mentor, guide to the Capitol, da da da, you know the rest of the spiel. Anyway, I also work for an organization in Panem. The type that hide in the shadows and do what they gotta do to get by. Main mission here is to stop the Games. We're sick of it and it's a fuck feast and if it means having to go through with another rebellion, so be it." Plagg bends down and lifts his pant leg.
Adrien sees the needle on the strap of his ankle but doesn't step away.
With the needle in hand, his mentor rises to his full height "So you got two choices now, and no, don't worry, one of them ain't dying, yet at least. If you want to play these rotting Games, I'll be glad to watch your head roll there pretty boy. Choice A: I put this needle in your neck and you take a good ole nap and forget this ever happened. Choice B: You join the resistance. I'll give you some time to think it over and all-"
"I don't need time. B. I'm in."
"Wait, you don't want an explanation or anything?" He smirked at the younger man, with similar green eyes.
"I don't need it, not really. But if you're serious, I'm in."
"Serious as a heart attack." He chuckles and leans down to put his needle away and pulls a box with chinese carvings on it "Take this and put it on. It's a one way communicator. You can talk to it, but you can't talk back."
Adrien opens the box and finds a silver ring. He inspects it for a moment, but there is nothing out of the ordinary about it. He slips it on and it's a perfect fit "So what's the point of me wearing this?"
"That's the question you ask?" He chuckles "You're one strange ass kid. We have someone monitoring it. Say that it's your tribute token. You can bring it into the Games and if you get in some trouble, maybe we can help you out." Plagg walks back to his bed, bottle in hand. He hits play and the television continues to play.
"Okay, but what's the game plan here? What am I suppose to do?"
"Play along. We sit and wait for orders and play along with the Games, until someone says otherwise. For now, why don't you go see Marinette and convince her to join up too, eh? You want her on our side, don't you?"
"I mean, I do, it's just.."
"Just what?" He leans forwards, acid green eyes peering at him.
"I want her to be on our side, it's just, I can't really make her. It's not my place to."
"Pfft. Pussy. Whatever, go see your little girlfriend."
"She's.. well she's not my girlfriend." He pointed out, a bit pathetically. He turned to the door and this time, it opened to the avox girl. He rose an eyebrow her way "So, are you going to led me to Marinette this time?"
She rolled her eyes and walked down the hall, back towards his room and stops by a door next to his room. Adrien felt stupid knowing that her room was next to his this whole time.
