Due to a certain depressing day having just passed, Adrien had professionally declined a photoshoot in New York. He hadn't felt like traveling that far when Ladybug's own memorial day had been so recent. Per the norm his father strongly disapproved of this choice but Adrien was a grown man now and had already spread his wings. The best was empty and Gabriel had no one to control or contain.

Maybe it was just because he had grown up in quite a wealthy environment, the uppermost level of the upper class, at the very top of the proverbial food chain…but he did still like to have plenty of money, enough to buy anything he wished for at any time. It was a huge disconnect from the life he chose for himself now but if he ever needed anything or if he needed to help pay for damage he had caused as Chat Noir—to which there was often much of—then he could afford it. It wasn't uncommon for him to donate money either. He didn't try to bring attention to that but Adrien Agreste had made quite a humble and kindhearted name for himself when repeatedly caught by the press doing anything beneficial to society, from charity to volunteer work.

And one day, if he ever met the right girl, he could settle down and have a family that wouldn't have to face financial adversity. If his wife or children had preexisting medical issues, they would be covered. His bride could have the grandest wedding in all of France with every kind of flower and color she could ever dream of. His daughter could have an actual pony with a horn strapped to its head. His son could have the most advanced gaming system. His hamster would be named Bijou. On top of this he was Chat Noir, perfectly capable of protecting his future wife and kids from harm, be it a petty break-in or an akuma. He could serve his family in all the ways a man was supposed to.

He'd dated quite a few times after Ladybug, figuring he had to move on from her if he ever wanted to have a good life, but none of them were the right girl and most were in it for the money. Especially knowing he was handsome and rich, love wasn't very easy to come by, so he did try his best to make things work if she was genuine. And, yes, a few of those girls did happen to be celebrities—only two hadn't been with him just to make sure they got double the coverage on all newspapers and magazines and certain TV shows. Looking back, he was pretty sure they were in it for a popularity boost. And since he was a trilingual worldwide fashion model with a famous designer for a father, he never had a problem attracting attention from the fairer sex. That said, despite being very loyal to any current girlfriends, they all treated him with subservience to keep him around. The celebrity break-ups were always so dramatic…it made him hate the idea of dating anyone remotely famous.

But not all people were like that. He still saw his old friends when he could. He kept up with Alya constantly on the Ladyblog, which by now had been reformatted and devoted more to Chat Noir now—Alya kept the name to honor Ladybug. She and Nino had—

"Turn left," a photographer told him. "Hold very still. I take many picture."

He turned to his side and posed with a hand on his hip while his other hand hung limply at his side. He looked innocently into the camera lens with a soft smile.

Alya and Nino had actually ended up getting married after two break-ups. Now they had two daughters and a son. They'd stopped trying to hook him up with a disinterested Marinette a long time ago and now would reassure him that one day he would have what they had. With all his responsibilities to Paris, he hadn't exactly put a domestic life on a pedestal like they thought he had.

Like him, the rest of his friends had moved forward in life too. He didn't see them as much as Nino or Alya, a package deal, but he kept in contact with everyone and was never out of the loop with what was going on. Marinette was the only one who grew more flaky as time passed. Now it was anyone's guess as to when she would reply and what she would reply to. His father had allowed her to intern under his company and she shadowed many great designers, improving her own natural skills by a landslide. One would think he, as a model who occasionally showed off her original designs, would hear from her the most. Ever since the alleged death of Ladybug that hadn't been the case. She sent in proposals and packages would arrive with an array of handmade clothes, but actual conversation rarely happened. It was usually professional now and she rarely showed herself—and when she did, it was brief. She would never stick around long enough for anyone to truly catch up. But she looked like she was doing okay for herself. So far he really only knew she visited her parents' bakery every two or three days, her home supposedly not too far from it, and that she tended to get more stressed out when a deadline was days away, which in turn meant she became almost entirely unresponsive to any messages. He never saw a ring on her finger so he assumed she was still unmarried. It was a little sad, actually… Everyone else seemed to be getting married and starting families and new lives but then there was Marinette, who either wasn't moving forward at all or was very sluggish in doing so. He wasn't hitched for obvious reasons but he couldn't think of anything outwardly wrong that would prevent her from marriage, not after all these years… But maybe there was nothing wrong at all. Maybe she just didn't meet the right man or maybe she simply didn't want to get married.

But at least she was fine and well. He could rarely meet up in public without being mobbed so most "outings" were through video chat. Sometimes they would gather at a café and bring a laptop, turn it in their direction, and they would all talk like that. He made sure to wear concealing clothes and dark glasses though. It probably made him look shady but it kept those maniacs away from his friends… And when he did dare step foot in public, he had to make certain he was covered all the way—hat, glasses, long overcoat, a scarf in winter… The whole nine yards.

"I need you to look up at sky, think of wish," the photographer said.

Adrien turned his eyes skyward and thought of Ladybug. She was really the only thing he could wish for so soon after that interview… Sometimes he wondered what would've happened if only he hadn't let her leave on their last battle. He'd known she was sick. The few battles before her final one she hadn't looked so well either. She never got better. And instead of helping her, instead of personally seeing to it that she got the help she obviously needed, he chose to leave her to her own devices. He chose to believe that she wasn't as sick as she looked simply because she said so. He had blatantly dismissed the notion that she could've been downplaying it the whole time.

He had spent two whole years blaming himself for her disappearance. It couldn't have been mere coincidence that she was never seen again after being sick for four battles. But he'd finally come to accept that it wasn't completely his fault. He didn't know her true identity, first of all, so it would've been awfully hard to force her to see a medical professional. Secondly, she hated lying, and he chose to trust her against his better judgment because of that. And thirdly, she was clearly weak and didn't have half the strength she normally would've, but she wasn't vomiting or feverish, she wasn't passing out or staggering around with the balance and grace of a newborn gazelle, and he didn't see any physical injuries on her…nothing to suggest she could be really hurt. He naturally assumed that like she'd said, she just hadn't been sleeping much and "that was why she hadn't been feeling so well lately."

But after she vanished, after she didn't show up for the next akuma attack, he knew inside that sleep—assuming she wasn't lying about that—hadn't been the only factor played. Yes, she was sick, but he hadn't known she would permanently stop being Ladybug over it. He hadn't known how bad it really was…otherwise he would've found a way to get her medical help. Whether or not it was his fault didn't stop him from feeling like at least part of it was, like he could've saved her the last time he saw her. If she had just asked him for help, or let him know in some way that she something was very wrong with her, he would've gone through hell and high water to make her better. But she didn't and now, even he was trying to cope with the fact that she probably was dead.

Maybe he was actually just refusing to believe it because he dreaded hearing the truth, and dreaded accepting it even more. The only thing that ever put his mind somewhat at ease was thinking Ladybug could still be out there, somewhere, alive. Ironically, though, he of all people knew that nobody wanted to believe what they didn't want to hear. And with his close connection to her, he wanted to believe it least of all. There was probably some psychological malfunction in him stopping him from listening to the rest of the world and basic logic.

"No, no, not thinking face," the photographer said. "Wish face. Wish for something good."

He took a deep breath and instead of actually thinking of the one thing he really wished for, he played a series of random memories with Ladybug in his head. It managed to bring a little smile to his face, enough to please his Asian photographer—who had, in fairness, come from Japan but made an effort to speak another language for Adrien's sake. So credit for courtesy.

"Very good, very good!"

A quick barrage of bright lights and the sound of a shutter snapping at least ten times per second assaulted him. Between the sun just above his line of sight and the new bright flashes coming from the corners of his vision, his eyes were starting to hurt. Normally sunlight wasn't bothersome but he was looking almost directly at it.

It only took a mere few seconds for all the bright light to be done with but by the time it did end, his eyes were starting to sting. The moment he was told he was done, his head shot down and he closed his eyes, rubbing them as if that could help alleviate the pain.

"These good pictures," the photographer exclaimed as he viewed the photos on his camera. "I send these to my company! Thank you, Adrien, we are done here."

Adrien smiled and nodded his head. "You're welcome."

He continued to rub his eyes for a bit but he could hear fans swooning in the background, behind the camera…behind the tape that was set up like a weak fence to keep the crowd away only as a visual signal to pass no farther.

He opened his eyes and blinked away remaining spots obstructing his vision. The photographer bowed quickly and walked off, dialing a number on his cellphone and speaking cheerily in Japanese to someone on the other end. The rest of his crew gave each other orders to remove the set from this park.

He had been all too happy to model at this specific park. It brought him back to the good old days, all the free time teenagers had to spend with friends on weekends—whatever free time his father would agree to give him, anyway.

He sighed and pulled at the collar of his shirt, reading a small signature that seemed to become more rushed with each new design. Marinette. It had been quite a while since he last heard from her, let alone seen her, and only Alya had seen a mere glimpse of her entering her parents' bakery. They didn't stop to say hi at that particular moment and Alya had decided to come by later, only to discover that Marinette had already left. Maybe there was another deadline he didn't know about.

After the photographer and his crew left, Adrien sat on the edge of the fountain and took in the fresh air, beautiful day, and tried to block out the voices of his fans to make a more peaceful atmosphere for himself. But of course a great day to relax in his favorite park—loud fans or not—would only last maybe ten minutes before all the voices were drowned out by a deep rumble in the distance. There was no way anyone was shooting an action movie right by the park he happened to be modeling at.

He groaned as his already noisy fans scattered like confused ants, screaming and running away, no longer caring about his very existence. Chat time…again… Famous or not, he still didn't get enough credit for dealing with these things.

A/N

Yay she live! But why she so elusive? HMMM.

Wow you guys were quick to jump on the baby train. Is this fandom truly that ship-heavy? o-o"