Chapter 5 - Let the best rollerskater win!
Chapter Summary
In this chapter, we will explore Adrien's first day, Lance and Alix's race, and their goûter.
Chapter Notes
Trigger warning of xenophobia by a side character.
Here are the words used in the chapter and their meaning:
Terminales: French students in the equivalent of grade 12 or senior year.
Carving: Making quick and controlled turns by using the edges of the roller skates or rollerblades.
Mon amour: My love.
Goûter: A light afternoon snack.
Bise: It's the France custom of giving light kisses on the cheeks as a form of greeting.
relou: A slang term in French that is used to describe someone or something annoying, bothersome, or irritating
arrond: Short for Arrondissement.
écoliers: French students who attend primary school.
'Bonjour Madame, ravie de vous rencontrer.': Hello Madam, nice to meet you.
Ma douce: My sweet
CE2: the equivalent of 3rd grade in the American education system.
mec: It's an informal way to refer to a guy that the speaker is either close to, (or potentially doesn't know the name of and so is using a placeholder word).
Inside the luxurious Agreste mansion, the morning light passed through an open window in the heir's imposing room, evidence of his last night's escapade, of his new persona.
The rays of sunlight brightened the sleeping boy's golden locks and reflected upon the silver ring on his curled finger.
As he breathed softly, his mind and body peacefully resting, increasingly louder footsteps echoed outside the room, quickly nearing the door before suddenly stopping.
(Thud, Thud)
"Adrien," A stern monotone voice called out, abruptly waking him up.
"I'm awake, Nathalie!" The boy replied in a dull tone, tightly grasping the warm sheets for comfort that was slowly slipping away. Isn't it a little early for lessons?
"Your father has decided to grant your request to attend Françoise Dupont. Get prepared and meet Placide by the gate in 20 minutes. " She announced, walking away shortly afterward.
'...attend Françoise Dupont', her words echoed in his drowsy mind.
Ç ! It clicked at last.
In a moment of ecstasy, Adrien jumped from his bed, accidentally launching the sleeping Plaag into the air and jarring him awake.
"Hey!" The kwami shouted before flying to his holder, now inside his bathroom. "Do you realize what you did? I was having the most amazing of dreams. Camembert fell from the sky, and I–hey! Are you even listening to me!?"
Adrien hurriedly chose his clothes and then moved further within, closing the double glass doors behind him. "Sorry, Plagg, no time to chat. I have to get ready for school!" He explained with exuberance, the words he longed to utter for so many years electrifying his mouth as he spoke.
"What the–school?" He scoffed. "So your dad is suddenly fine with his 'golden child' joining the common folk. Just like that?"
Adrien froze for a moment before he continued putting on his clothes.
The kwami's comment, though purely sarcastic, resurfaced some of the intrusive thoughts Adrien had carried since his late mother's passing. Yet he was quick to dismiss them. His father does love him, the mansion isn't a prison, and his family is whole.
"C'mon, Plagg, don't say those things about him. He just wants to keep me close because he cares a lot, even if he has a hard time showing it. Plus, I did ask him to let me go, so it's not like it's out of the blue."
"Wasn't that after you ran away from home?" The kwami retorted.
Leaving his bathroom, now fully dressed, Adrien let out a long, defeated sigh as he gathered his books. "I wanted–all I want is to be like everyone else. Go to school, make good friends, and…maybe fall in love? " He sheepishly admitted, his cheeks tinting a bright pink as he scratched his head. "Of course, father preferred that I remained homeschooled so 'I wouldn't be endangered by the outside world'. "He reminded himself, quoting his dad's go-to rhetoric. "I do get annoyed with him over stuff like that and the exhausting schedule he has me on – photoshoots, fencing, piano practice, Mandarin lessons – but…I'm all he has, Plagg."
The black cat internally wrestled with challenging his chosen dismissals or leaving them be. Technically, it was neither his role nor duty to interfere in the family matters of his kittens, and yet…
Eventually, the cracks in his small stone heart widened, ultimately giving way.
"Kid, trust me, in the eighth millennia I spent on this big rock of yours, that excuse is more common than processed cheese, and it never turns out well…like processed cheese." He confessed.
As he mulled over his companion's speech, Adrien finished packing his satchel and moved to the door.
Holding the handle, he sighed once more. "We'll talk about this later, I promise," He reassured him before leaving the room.
I've heard that one a million more times, thought a frustrated Plagg, hidden away in his holder's shirt.
Standing by the large monitor, mercilessly judging the designs for the upcoming collection, Gabriel heard a faint knock at the door.
"Mr. Agreste?" A soft, shy voice called from outside the atelier.
"Nathalie, come in, "He ordered with a stiff tone, instinctively stroking the purple jewel adorning his neck, his mind straying further and further from the amateur drawings on display.
"Adrien is currently on his way to Françoise Dupont," Notified Nathalie as she gently shut the door behind her.
"Excellent. I'll allow him some time to become acquainted with his…peers before I bring him to his senses."
"And as requested, sir, here's an overview detailing the public stance after yesterday's attack."
The screen that once showed sketches for winter jackets changed to news headlines, government officials' statements, and threads on public forums, all vomiting the same opinions as if to taunt him.
"From what I could uncover, the nationwide consensus is one of support and adoration for Ladybug and Chat Noir, despite their initial performance."
"I see…" Gabriel pensively browsed through the summary before gesturing the monitor to shut down, his expression betraying the deep displeasure within him. "This faux optimism of theirs will wither away in due time. Soon enough, they will demand that their precious heroes relinquish their miraculous!" His hands clasped behind him, he turned to face the portrait of her, admiring every detail in it as if it was his first time laying eyes on her beauty all over again. "Regardless, that's not our only pawn on the board. Did Tomoe provide a response yet?" He asked, shifting back to his flat, emotionless voice.
Nathalie held the tablet close to her chest upon realizing her error. As tremors slowly overwhelmed her, she opened her mouth. "F–Forgive me, sir, but with the runway show happening later this month, I've been busy pre–"
"Busy," Gabriel quietly scoffed, tightening the grip around his wrist to steady himself as anger coursed through his body, exacerbated by the cumulative stress from the previous days. "I am risking everything,Nathalie, everything. And you can't so much as contact the one personthat could aid in our endeavors because you were 'busy.'"
Nathalie felt the pain mixed with the venom in Gabriel's words and blamed herself for causing it. Deep inside, she saw the Agrestes as her family, their pain was her pain, and she had failed them once again.
"G–Gabriel," She commenced, her voice shaking as she spoke. "Forgive me, I promi–"
"You will take the jet to Tokyo, and you are not to return without Tomoe's answer," Gabriel turned back to her, his expression unsettling and foreboding, reminiscent of the same he used when addressing new employees, and at this moment, she felt like one. "Do I make myself clear?"
She regained her composure and then nodded in agreement. "Of course, sir."
"Good. You're dismissed," He declared, turning the monitor back on to continue his work, ignoring her presence as if she was already gone.
(Ding!)
Nope, Alix thought, further burrowing into the soft bed.
(Ding! Ding!)
She loudly groaned yet remained deeply enwrapped in her blankets. I'm gonna throw that damn phone out the window...
(Ring, Ring)
OK, THAT'S ENOUGH! Prying her half-asleep, bloodshot eyes open, Alix stood up and snatched the device from the nightstand, promptly answering the call. "WHAT IS IT!?" She shouted in a husky voice, her sudden yelling causing a slumbering Jalil to jolt off his bed.
"Well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty," Quipped Alya, only receiving disgruntled groans as a response. "Anyhow, girl, you're not gonna believe what happened! I put out the Stoneheart video in the Ladyblog, and guess what? It exploded! Isn't that awesome? The blog's first post, and we've already gone viral!"
Ladyblog…exploded…gone viral.
"Alya," Alix started, weariness palpable in her tone.
"Yup, that's my name," She confirmed, knowing she was enjoying this too much for her own good.
"I didn't even listen to half the things you said. Now, can you pleasestop blowing up my phone and let me slee–"
As if on cue, the device started vibrating in her hand and blasting music from Red Order, her favorite rock band, not that serving as her alarm was doing it any favors.
"Sorry, can you repeat that? You got cut off."
A defeated Alix fell back on her bed, conceding over the fact she couldn't hibernate for the winter before grabbing her phone again. "Forget it. I'll be there in a few."
"Sounds good, but hurry! There's still a lot of stuff we need to talk about for the blo–"
(Beep!)
After getting dressed and packing her books, Alix found herself making a vital decision.
Quad or inline?
Opening the closet shelf where her skate bags were, Alix's hand first hovered over the old roller skates she received ages ago.
She made sure to take good care of them; Regularly wiped them clean, lubricated the bearings, and rotated the wheels, but unfortunately, the passage of time had inevitably worn on them. The once pristine boots now showed small cracks and wrinkles. Their snow-white leather, alongside the pink shade of the wheels and the lime-green line running across it, had long since faded away.
The most glaring issue was the evident wear on the axles, the metal chipped and rusting, meaning the skates no longer carved as cleanly as they used to. "Only one sharp turn on this course though. . ." she mused, ". . . Eh, whatevs."
Alix's focus changed to the dark sky adorned with a myriad of stars covering her other bag. Unveiling it revealed a matching pair of rollerblades. Their body held a space-like hard carbon shell, a velvety black canvas speckled with starry motifs. Against this backdrop, five shooting stars streaked in midnight blue. An aluminum frame coated twilight purple with four large wheels sprayed a bright blue flawlessly completed the look.
It had taken Alix most of her summer break to work up the money and then another three weeks to finish the paint job, but now they were one of her most prized possessions, seconded only by the originals.
I've been waiting for a chance to try them out! She thought, holding the pair above her head as if they were a holy relic. I'd for sure beat my record with their mad speed!…but it's his first time skating, so I'd be kind of a douche to try hard like that.
Alix stashed the 'space skates' back in the bag, taking them with her as she left the room.
I mean, technically I never used blades before, but they can't be that hard, right?
(...)
Right!
Moving into the hallway with her backpack and bag in hand, Alix noticed the door to her brother's room was open, yet it was vacant inside. That's strange. He usually sleeps in on Wednesdays because the museum's closed.
"Alix, come join me and Jalil," Her father called. "I have great news to share!"
"Coming!"
When Alix reached the dining room, her eyes widened in shock. Mountains upon mountains of papers covered the table, leaving only a minute space for her and Jalil's breakfast.
"Are those…the great news?" She asked, then sat down and started topping her yogurt with the berry compote and the granola hidden away on her side of the table.
"Indeed," He replied as he happily signed one of the forms and stored it inside a big, yellow envelope before taking another from the pile. "These are the last papers in need of signing for the Egyptian exhibit. It took me and my colleagues months to make it a reality, and now that we're so close it's exciting for all of us!"
Seeing her old man's joyfulness at his work brought an endearing, broad smile to Alix, as she recalled his famous motto.
"Loving what you do with the people you love. Right, Dad?"
Alim turned towards Alix and matched her pleasant expression. "Exactly!"
"Couldn't the exhibition department handle some of the paperwork? It feels as though they dumped everything on you, Dad. "Jalil chimed in.
"It's my job as the museum's director to oversee the filing of these forms. Consider me signing them myself as…expediting the process," He responded in a light-hearted tone. "Despite that, It's an off day for most of them. I wouldn't want to impose."
"Doesn't mean you should do all of their work…" Jalil muttered under his breath as he ate another spoonful of his cereal.
"I should be free by 3 after the celebratory lunch with my curatorial team at Le Grand Paris. The mayor informed me it was his way to thank us for the 'continuous preservation and education of history.' While it might simply be for his constituents' support, it was nevertheless a very thoughtful gesture! After lunch, I was thinking of taking you both to that creperie we used to visit near the Panthéon. I'm not needed back until 6, so we can take our time."
"I'm afraid I can't, Father. I'll be at the university until 5. Then there's a group project meeting following classes, so the earliest I'd be home is by 6, but then I need to continue working on my thesis…"Jalil trailed off.
"It's fine, son. I completely understand," He chuckled softly. "I vividly remember how time-consuming université is, especially during the last year, so please don't apologize."
Alim shifted his gaze back to Alix. "What about you, mon amour? Can you spare some time for your old man?" He asked with a playful tone.
"'Cour–" As Alix began answering, it dawned on her.
How did I just forget about the race!? I literally spent half an hour over which skates to pick! I don't wanna just bail so it looks like I didn't wanna hang out with him, but Dad–
Her father looked at her, puzzled. "Alix? Is everything alright?"
"YES!" Alix replied, startling even herself. "Sorry… spaced out," She explained, flashing her father a shy grin.
"Alix…" Alim imposed, acutely aware of his daughter's sudden bout of nervousness.
"Okay, okay." She sighed in defeat. "So I was going to racewith a friend after school, but I can call it off, it's no biggie."
"Forgive me, but I can't allow you to do such a thing," He informed her, nearly finished with the first tower of documents. "When you make a promise to someone you care for, like a friend, you should always endeavor to honor your commitment. Our bonds, no matter their strength, are based on trust, and for that, you need to hold your word."
Her old man's speech left her eyes sparkling in amazement. "Woah, Dad. That's like…really philosophical!"
His features softened at the praise. "I suppose one could say that. But do you understand why you can't cancel your plans with your friend?"
"Of course, Pops! I…just didn't wanna bail on you too." She admitted.
"And I appreciate your concern, mon amour. I truly do. But you shouldn't fret over that. I have plenty of articles to catch up on since we started working on the exhibition and an entire afternoon at my disposal. I'll be fine."
"Yeah…" Alix gave a weak hum of agreement, shifting her gaze to the side.
Alim reached over to take her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "I promise," He swore, holding an infectiously fond smile, causing Alix to form one of her own. "Now, I believe your classes start in–" He moved his sleeve to view his watch." approximately 15 minutes, so it'd be best if you went on your way."
"Right!" She jumped from her chair and planted a bise on her dad's cheek before rushing to the door. "Love you, Dad! See ya, Bro!"
Inside Ms. Bustier's classroom, Sabrina was frantically running around with a small damp cloth and spray bottle in hand, obsessively cleaning the room to a worrying degree.
"That's it, Sabrina, don't stop until the entire place is spotless! I won't have my Adrikins stay in a room with you all without proper disinfection!" Commanded Chloé, shamelessly lounging on her and Sabrina's desk with her legs stretched out, taking both of their seats.
"Yes, Chloé!"
"Chloé, if you're that worried that the class is too filthy for your model friend, how about you clean as well?" Questioned Alya, her focus unwavering from her screen. I wonder if Ladybug could be persuaded to beat up entitled brats and schoolyard bullies from time to time.
"Oh, please, don't be ridiculous! A Bourgeois doesn't sweep the floor; they have one of their peasants do it for them." She stated with sickening confidence.
Alya scoffed. "Say, do you also have someone to clean your a–"
"Al!" Hissed Marinette, tugging at her friend's arm. "Class hasn't even started yet. Let's not provoke Chloé if we don't have to. Please." She pleaded with a raspy, hushed voice, the dark bags under her eyes reflecting her troubled night.
"Girl, you sound awful!" Murmured Alya as she set her phone down.
"Thanks…" Replied a sleepless Marinette, now resting her head atop her folded arms.
"I keep telling you, 3 am is not the time to shop for fabric online." Reminded Alya, before tidying her friend's disheveled hair.
"It wasn't that…not this time." She let out a deep, soft yawn as she stretched her back. "The whole 'heroes and villains in Paris' fiasco. It kept me up all night."
"Well…if your problem is keeping up with our super friends, I got just the thing!" She reached for her phone.
"Is it your blo–"
Alya excitedly shoved her screen in front of Marinette's face. "The Ladyblog! It's the best and, so far, only place on the web for all the latest news about Ladybug and Chat Noir! Whether that be an akuma attack, hero sightings, or my groundbreaking theories, we got it all and more!"
"Wow." Marinette scrolled through the active feed plastered with posts and comments congratulating her alter ego, unconsciously bettering her mood. Eventually, she reached the end of the page and noticed two names accredited on the site's footer."'Brought to you by Alya Césaire and–'. She is going to murder you when she finds out."
"No way," Opposed Alya. "The recording you see in that video is solely thanks to her help!"
"Still, you know this isn't her type of thing. I doubt this is what she wants her online presence to be about." She persisted, handing back the phone.
"We'll be buddying up anyways, might as well make it official, no? Partners and all tha–"
"(Gasp) Alya!" A voice cried out from outside.
"Told you," Marinette absently singsonged as she began searching for her backpack, partly to get something ready and partly to avoid getting caught in Alya's drama – it was way too early for that.
The door forcefully swung open, revealing a disgruntled Alix and making Sabrina shed a small tear as blankets of settled dust flew into the room and covered the newly cleaned floors.
Wasting no time, Alix stormed in and marched to their desk.
"Feel like explaining this?" She questioned Alya, showing her the blog's footer on her phone; practically shoving it in her face. "Last time I checked, the blog was your thing, not mine!"
Alya shrugged her shoulders a bit too casually, even for Alix. "Look, girl, I'm gonna be honest. Yesterday, if it weren't for you, I'd probably have gotten squashed by one of those iron giant wannabes and no good footage. So, I thought," She gestured her hands, miming two talking mouths. "'Hey, me! Since Alix put in all this work for us, what if we surprise her by making her the co-owner of the Ladyblog?' 'Wow, me, you're so cool and awesome for caring about your friend like that! I'm sure she'll love it!' 'Thanks, me!'"
"Maybe you should've asked first like a normal person." Replied Alix with her own hand puppetry. Then, she placed her hands on her hips and sighed. "Guess I own a blog now."
"Co-owner." Alya corrected, crossing her arms and glaring at her giggling friend. "We started with a hit, but unless we keep pumping out content, we'll be old news by the end of the week!"
"Well…" Alix reached with her hand past the reporter's shoulder and grabbed the two paper bags held by Marinette's weary fingers. "That will need to wait until tomorrow. 'Cause today I got profiteroles to devour and a race to win!" She munched on one of the soft, creamy pastries and then moved to her desk, placing a bag on each side.
"Race?" Inquired Marinette as she wrapped up the last rogue strands of her morning hair. "With your derby team?"
"Nah, we meet on Fridays, remember?" She explained before stuffing down another one of the heavenly treats.
I swear, Marie is like the fairy godmother of pastries!
"Who then?"
"Lance. We'll be racing from the Eiffel Tower to the Louvre, and the loser buys le goûter!"
Marinette's face lit up. "I didn't know he skated as well! That must be great for both of you!"
Her friend's misplaced cheeriness forced a guilty chuckle from Alix. "He doesn't," She pointed out, watching the wheels slowly turn in Marinette's head.
"Oh. But, you still agreed to race…?"
Alix rolled her eyes at her classmate's questioning gaze. "Don't worry Ms. Soft Heart. I'll give him the rundown, so it's not a complete wash. But the moment we pass the Seine, it's free game!"
"Finally!" Screeched Chloé when the long-awaited ping hit her phone. Then, she clapped her hands to capture the class's attention, much to their annoyance and her amusement. With all eyes on her, she gracefully strode to the door, grabbed the knob, and slowly opened it for dramatic effect. "Everyone, meet my BFF, Adrikins!"
A hunched, blond teen timidly entered the room, the hand running along the back of his neck and his modestly downcast eyes betraying the confident persona shallowly portrayed in fashion magazines.
"Hi," Adrien breathed, instinctively hiding behind his old friend, his excitement abruptly cut short after the grand opening she'd granted him.
He then felt a force, Chloé's, nudging him forward, encouraging him in her own special way.
Filling his lungs and clearing his mind, Adrien tried again. "Hi everyone! I'm Adrien, and it's a pleasure to meet all of you!" He offered them the toothy grin he tended to default to on formal occasions.
As the whistling silence steadily settled in and sprouting thoughts of inadequacy and alienation filled his head, echoes of pleasantries covered the room, cleansing his growing anxiety and allowing him to release a breath he didn't realize he had been holding until now.
Proud of herself, Chloé returned to her seat and gestured to him to follow suit.
The closest desk, right next to the door, was occupied solely by a tall ocher-skinned boy. A speculative gaze colored his expression, yet he corrected it when Adrien turned to him.
"Sup." He began, noticing the model's hesitance.
"Hi, uhh, could I–" Adrien pointed to the empty spot near him, not trusting his voice to finish the request. "If that's cool with you."
"Hmm…" The teen pondered his answer as he gave him a once-over.
Rich? Check. Full of himself? He did greet us, so better than Chloé, at least. Now for the big one.
"Are you seriously her BFF?" He whispered to him. "Like, do you hang out with her and do the stuff she does?"
"I…" He glanced at Chloé's desk and winced when she screamed at Sabrina for messing up her nail polish." I don't leave home that often, and when I do, I tend to be busy, so I don't really get to hang out with her. But, she's my only friend, so I suppo–"
"Wait, hold up!" Interjected the boy, causing Adrien to startle and take a step back. "Only friend?" He mouthed as he moved his head closer to him, receiving a guilty nod in return. "Damn, dude."
Adrien turned his face to the side, veiling his sorrowed mood from his new classmate ."I–I think I'll just go–"
Before he could retreat, a hand grabbed his arm, gently pulling him to sit down, which he did after the initial shock.
"Nah, it's cool, bro." Assured the teen. "Also, how 'bout we make it two friends?" He proposed, earning him a shy grin." It's not a lot, but it's a start."
"I'd love that!" Announced the blond boy, still incredulous over what just happened. "Thank you so much…"
"Nino," He supplemented. "Or DJ, whatever floats your boat."
"DJ?" Wondered Adrien, pulling out his textbook while still attentively looking at his deskmate.
Nino pointed to the pair of headphones hung around his neck with a pleased grin. "'Course, man! These babies aren't just for show!"
As the two boys chatted about Nino's musical escapades during the city's nightlife, Marinette gave Adrien a considering look as she mulled over her previous assumptions.
"Are we there yet?" Faang whispered, nestled in Lance's hood, the tiger's little paws aimlessly tapping, brushing his scalp.
"Aren't you supposed to stay hidden?" Lance ribbed with a knowing smile. Then, he adjusted his jacket to better conceal the kwami from prying eyes. "But yeah, we're close."
"Well…for your information, a kwami must face the morning sky every day to refuel their miraculous. That's one of our core rules!"
Wait a minu– "You started reading my old Majestia comics, haven't you?" He asked, curious.
"I…okay, I did take a quick peek at them while you were sleeping–but! They were super boring, so I dropped them."
"Oh, in that case, you wouldn't mind me talking about that part in the 'Dawn of a New Age' arc where we finally see Majestia meeting her si–" Before he was allowed to finish, two hard taps hit the back of his head, causing him to wince in pain. "Ow!"
"No spoilers! I'm still at the beginning of 'Justice Wars'–Oh, damn it!"
As Faang's lies crumbled in shame, Lance pitifully failed to hold in his laughter.
"It's okay that you like comics, buddy. Remember, they were in my room. Just let me know when you're done with them, and I'll ask Luka if he still has his stash."
"When can we meet him!?" Inquired Faang, dropping the ruse in favor of literally bouncing with excitement.
"After Alix, we could visit the boat." Lance proposed, aware of his perpetually barren schedule. "Hopefully, he'll have a spare guitar there so we can play a bit. I'd use mine, but It's at home, and I'm not detouring to the other side of the Seine after skating that much."
"Hmm…you're my first hunter with an affinity for music," The kwami noted, consciously remarking him with the appropriate title despite Fu's wishes. "Not that the others didn't enjoy a hero's ballad or a romantic haiku, of course. But let's just say there wasn't nearly as much desire to pick up a flute as there was a longsword in those times."
As Lance reached the end of the street, silently musing over Faang's words, he saw groups of terminales lounging around the nearby park, idly chatting as they awaited the bell's call. I must have missed them yesterday.
Shifting his eyes to the front of the school, Lance spotted Juleka leaning against one of the entrance's stone pillars alone as she scrolled through her phone, clearly bored.
Jules got so worried because of me; Gotta make up for that. He thought as he crossed the sidewalk to her, determined to cheer up his old friend.
"Hey." A familiar voice called to Juleka, breaking her trance. "How's my princess of darkness on this fine day? Hopefully, not too enraged with her…negligent knight." He confessed, treating her to an honest smile with a dash of guilt.
She didn't respond. Instead, Juleka stored her phone in her purse, hurried to Lance, and enveloped him in a tight, warm hug.
"Luka was this close to breaking into your apartment." She muttered, secretly glad her friend was safe. "I don't think I would've been able to stop him if he decided to go."
"Jules, I'm really sorry for yest–Ow!" He cried as her hand left their hug to snatch his ear, giving it a strong pinch.
"That's for making us worry," Juleka calmly informed him before giving him a quick bise on each of his cheeks. "And that's for returning to my presence unscathed," She bashfully mentioned with a formal tone.
He openly chuckled as they released from the embrace, opting to walk side by side into the courtyard crowded with students on their phones, the vast majority chatting about a 'Ladyblog', whatever that was…
I have to ask her.
Lance took a sharp breath, forcing his mind to focus on the here and now instead of the 'incident.'
"Jules, did you end up filing a police report against that pig?"
Juleka's body trembled at the mere allusion to what had happened. "The–uh-the butterflies? They swooped in before I could talk to my mom about it."
"Right…and after Stoneheart was dealt with?" He pressed on, despite sensing her evasiveness.
"I–it was late. I didn't wanna wake her up for that…" Her step visibly hastened, as if she secretly feared that simply talking about the event could conjure the vile man from thin air.
Lance wrapped an arm around Juleka's shoulder and gently pulled her in to comfort her as they walked. "Does Luka know?" He whispered after allowing for a brief silence between them.
"No," She admitted, her voice barely audible. "Only you and me."
"Hmm...I'll go to the station after lunch. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to."
"But…" She looked up at him, her side resting on his. "You texted me you were going skating with Alix. You were so excited about it!"
He sighed, holding her close. "I can give that a raincheck, but not this."
Once they reached their destination, Lance went to open the door; however, Juleka grabbed his wrist before he could touch the knob.
"I'll go," Juleka exclaimed, shifting to the new deterministic tone she'd recently adopted. "I'll call Luka during break and tell him everything. If he's free after lunch, I'll take him with me, but if not, I'll still go by myself."
The unexpected change in his friend's attitude took Lance by storm, leaving him befuddled. "B–but you said…by yourself?...are you sure you–I shouldn't come with–"
"Just promise me you'll have fun. Alix is an amazing girl and a great friend. I don't wanna deprive you of hanging out with her because of me."
"Jules!" He protested. "That's not what's importan–"
"Please." Juleka countered, holding his hands, her big copper eyes and shy smile treating him to a rare sight into her veiled pureness and golden heart. "For your princess of darkness?" she added, tugging at his heartstrings.
Lance sighed once more. Then, with a slight hesitancy in his voice, he answered, "As you wish, your Highness."
Entering the class with the bell's call following right behind them, Lance and Juleka gave the other one last look of agreement before parting to their seats.
As he passed the front row, Lance noticed an unfamiliar face in the corner of his eye, his blond hair and designer clothes too publicized to forget.
Is he…? Nah, probably just a look-alike or a fanboy.
By the time he sat down and greeted Alix, Chloé was already fuming at her desk, with a heavy frown and gritted teeth to boot.
"Are these for me!?" He inquired as he opened the paper bag, the sweet aroma from inside made his mouth water. "They smell amazing!"
"Yup!" Alix ate one last profiterole before stashing the rest in her backpack. "You can thank Marinette for it; she baked them herself!"
Lance scanned the room until he laid his eyes on Alya's deskmate. "Is…that her?" He whispered, nodding in their direction, hoping his ignorance would go unnoticed.
"Oh–I forgot! You haven't met her yet!" Alix exclaimed in a bout of remembrance, breaking the silence and making Lance cringe from embarrassment. Then, she stood up and turned her head, "Hey, Mari! Lance wanted to say thanks for the food!"
"Oh, you're welcome!" She offered him a polite smile. "My parents' bakery is actually right next door if you two want to have your goûter there…"
Alix's glance switched back to Lance. "Since the loser's buying it, how 'bout we make it so the winner picks where?"
He tried the puffy treat resting in his fingers as he pondered her idea. The moist and tender delight that blessed his taste buds seemingly served to convince his mind. "Deal."
"Great! Just text me on ChatAll if you end up coming over, and I'll whip something up!" She gleefully offered, returning to her talk with Alya afterward.
"Ok, now that that's out of the way… you ready to get dunked on?" Alix teased with a mirthful smirk. Then, she grabbed a small bag tucked on her side of the floor and placed it on the desk. "If you liked those ancient skates from yesterday, get ready to freak out!"
When she unzipped the bag, Lance audibly gasped at the cosmic painting hidden within.
"They look awesome!" He praised, carefully inspecting their design after she'd let him hold them. "How did you make them shine like that?"
"Oh, that was nothing. Just a couple of sprays of reflective coating, and boom! Space skates!" She explained, clearly content with her fine work. "It's a tad tricky 'cause you gotta make sure all the coats are even and thin, but aside from a couple of issues with the wheels, it turned out super good!"
"What was the problem with them?"
Alix grunted as she thought back on her past ordeals. "Well… basically, there's this thing called a bearing puller that you need, go figure, to pull the bearings. But the one I had was for quads, so I had to wait for like a week and spend, what, €90, to get one for inlines to finish the wheels. Worst part is, that was literally the last thing on my list!"
Lance gently flicked his finger against the wheels to watch a starry, baby-blue sky reflect upon them. "Like I said, they look—"
"Hey, you!" Chloé yelled, pounding her fist on their desk, startling Lance as he fumbled to keep hold of the skates, nervously hanging on to them before settling them down. "That's Adrien Agreste you just ignored. My Adrikins!"
"What?" He replied, confused, not having registered her words.
Lance could now hear a low, deep growl forming against his abs, causing his mind to fixate on his defensive kwami.
"Chloé, right?" He guessed, receiving a disgruntled nod from her. "Sorry if I did something to upset you or your Adricana—"
"Adrikins!" She rudely corrected him.
"Yeah…" Lance answered absentmindedly as the snarling, while still inaudible to the others, increased in intensity, furthering his concern. "It wasn't intentional, I promise."
"Oh, right, I forgot, you're American," Chloé sneered, switching to English as she gave him a judgmental once-over.
Her clear disdain made him flush. Lance could practically feel everyone staring at him as he demanded, ''What does that mean?"
"Of course, you don't know who Adrien is. You people are always so ignorant when it comes to real culture," she scoffed, giving him a look full of mocking pity. "Poor thing. You're never gonna fit in here. I can't believe I bothered correcting you. You'll just forget it by the afternoon."
As Lance sensed his whole body heating up, he rose from his desk, slamming it and staring her down with a piercing gaze. "WE'LL SEE–"
There, he felt it again. That same unbridled rage from yesterday at the tower had crept its way across his body and into his mind, enough to grind his ranting to a halt as cold beads of sweat dripped down his forehead.
Really? He thought in a flash of clarity, not knowing who to blame. I almost blew everything on my second day because of this…this human-sized snake.
"Hello!?" Chloé snapped him from his daze, hands on her hips. "I thought you knew French, relou!"
"I…" Lance heard the same animalistic sound, but this time it was resonating in his chest and deep in his throat. "I have to go."
Before anyone could protest, Lance rushed out the door and into the hallway, passing Ms. Bustier as she reached the class.
"Lance!?" She exclaimed as he dashed down the stairs. "Are you alright, dear!?" Yet he didn't answer.
Shutting himself inside one of the bathroom stalls, Lance unzipped his pockets after ensuring he was alone.
"I–I can't stop it." His upper body trembled as a profound growl reverberated throughout his chest. A blaring red encapsulated the edges of his vision, causing the back of his eyes to heat up.
The little tiger swiftly flew up to face him and pressed his head against his chosen's cheek, gently rubbing it. "You'll be alright. I'm here. Steady your breathing and settle your eyes; I'll take care of the rest."
He did as he was told, holding the kwami against his face.
Soon enough, a soft vibrating humm emanated from Faang, gradually relaxing Lance's tense muscles and easing his worries.
After the harsh rumbling had subsided, Lance reopened his eyes.
"You're purring?" He asked, stroking the tiger's velvety fur. "I thought tigers didn't purr."
"It's magical purring," Faang replied, fully engrossed in his task. "Long ago, I saw Plagg, the kwami of the black cat, doing it to calm his kittens, so I had the Guardians give me my own version for my hunters."
I haven't purred in centuries…though I suppose there wasn't a reason to.
They remained in comfortable silence until voices from outside drew their attention.
"Lance, are you alright?" Questioned Marinette, secretly dreading the chance of an akuma. "If you're sad or angry or anything else, we're here for you!"
"Same here!" Chimed in Alya. "Sorry for not warning you about Chloé. She loves getting on people's nerves. Heck! Yesterday, before you showed up, I would've knocked her head off if it weren't for Marie here."
"Do you really want to go back?" Whispered the little tiger, refusing to abandon his master's touch. "There's a small window on the wall which leads to the street. We could transform and stroll the rooftops, just you and me."
Lance sighed in resignation. "I wish I could, buddy, honestly. But that wouldn't be right to them, especially Jules and Alix."
Faang breathed a weak whisper, "I know," before returning to his spot, his solacing purring rising in his hunter's concession.
Leaving the stall, Lance went to wash his face on one of the rusty bathroom sinks, letting the cold water refresh his mind as it dripped down his chin and dragged his troubles with it.
Then, he tucked his hands back in his pockets and calmly walked to the exit as the soothing trance-like rumble permeated him.
"I'm good," He announced after opening the door, the red that once colored his features long gone.
"Really?" Imposed Marinette as the two girls followed Lance back to class. "I–I mean not that I don't believe you! I–it's just…it's okay if you're not okay."
"Yup…just needed to cool off a bit."
"Lance, there's something you should know," Mentioned Alya as the end of their walk drew near. " When you left, Juleka… she went off on Chloé, bad. Like Ivan-and-Alix-had-to-grab-her bad."
Lance stopped dead in his tracks.
It's my fault. Was the immediate thought that crossed his mind.
"Is she in trouble?" He interrogated, his worry evident.
"No, and we made sure of that," Marinette responded, encouraging him to move forward with a light touch. "Alya, Alix, and I told Ms. Bustier what happened, despite Chloé trying to play the victim. After things quieted down, she asked us to check up on you."
At hearing this, a semblance of peace returned to Lance's consciousness.
"Thank you for standing up for her. Jules is a wonderful person, but confrontations aren't her strong suit. Usually, her brother or I are there to help her."
"You know, it's a shame she never opened up about her friends from outside our class. You sound like you've known her for ages!" Noted Alya.
A nostalgic smile rose on his face as he daydreamed about their childish hijinks. "I think… Friday will make it seven years since I first met her and Luka in CE2." He confessed. "But, please, don't tell her. I don't want her to feel like she has to do anything special for it. Lycée is stressful as is."
"Of course!" Assured Marinette, already planning on what frosting to use for the cake.
Why are they taking so long? Thought Alix, her eyes lingering on the door as Ms. Bustier gave her lesson. I should've come with, but no, 'Can't have more than three students outside the classroom at the same time.'
The class went on, yet her gaze remained fixed, and her anger began to boil.
Chloé's been doing this shit for way too long, but did I say anything when she insulted the guy that helped me save Alya from a supervillain? Nope, I just stood back like a wimp and let her have at it.
Alix heaved a drawn-out sigh of frustration before finally changing her focus to the board and opening her textbook. Well, that won't happen again…
Soon after, the three missing students emerged from the hallway, their entrance briefly hushing the room.
Ms. Bustier calmly approached Lance as the two girls returned to their seats and whispered something in his ear, too quiet for Alix to tell. Then, he made his way to her, his face turned to the side, purposely avoiding Chloé.
"Hey…" He awkwardly greeted her, grabbing his books from his backpack. "Sorry for losing my cool."
"What!?" She chuckled, the absurd nature of his apology breaking her sullied mood. "You think I'd be mad about that?"
"I mean, yeah, it wasn't right, and I kinda ruined your desk because of it." Lance protested as he sat down, now less uneasy.
"Yeah, you're right. I'll get Mr. Damocles to send you the bill during the break. You think these cheap wooden desks grow on trees!?" Alix rebuked with a disapproving 'tssk!', earning her a few soft chuckles.
"Here," She slid him her textbook. "I wrote down the important bits that Ms. Bustier mentioned, but most of it was about the same dead guy."
Lance thanked Alix as he scrolled through it, before stopping on the latest page, confusion riddling his head.
"You gotta decipher my handwriting first!" She mischievously added.
Despite the earlier 'hiccup,' the rest of the morning classes went by relatively smoothly, even with Chloé's perpetual resentment for being forced to apologize.
And with the students being released into the wild again, Lance and Alix traversed the concrete jungle until they reached a small store wedged between two buildings facing the back of the Seine.
"Is that it?" He asked, pointing to the flickering neon sign shaped like a pair of roller skates with three metallic S's on them."'Stacy's Skate Shop'"
Alix gave him a convincing hum as she darted to the entrance.
"Come on! Stace has the best gear in the 5e arrond, and a crap ton of it is on sale!" She beckoned with excitement, already waiting for him at the front door.
A subtle smile crept across his face as he hurried to her.
The doorbell let out a sharp 'ding!' once they entered, the ever-mesmerizing sight inside dazzling Alix as she guided him through the store.
"So here is mostly just your regular 'helmets, pads, parts, etcetera' and up there next to the counter, those are display cases for the really fancy stuff. That desk in the corner is for skate repairs, and next to it are some benches to try them out."
"Did you get your skates from here?" Lance asked as he grabbed a pair of knee pads from a shelf.
"Nah, there's this spot close to the Parc des Princes that has all this really high-end stuff, but unless you know exactly what you're getting, they'll totally rip you off," Alix mentioned, leading him to the store's right wall, where banners and signs hung from the ceiling, advertising the discounted products around them.
"That's a lot of skates," The racks were piled to the brim with models and sizes of all kinds towering over them.
"It's actually perfect that you chose to get skates when you did!" Remarked Alix, giving each item a detailed once-over, carefully inspecting them with professional-like scrutiny. "You see tons of people wearing them during the summer 'cause they're fun as hell, but then school comes, and they don't have time anymore, so they end up selling them."
"And that leaves the stores with…" He gestured back to the wall.
"Pretty much!"
After a few minutes of browsing the mausoleum of orphaned sports gear, Alix snatched two pairs from the rack. Then, she returned to Lance with a determined look while he was trying out helmets.
"What do you think?" He asked, looking in the mirror with uncertainty.
"That I look great in these shorts," She quipped, snickering. "As long as it's comfortable to wear and does its job, they're all good, dude."
"I'll take this one, then!" He decided, picking the helmet with skull motifs. "Might as well keep up with the theme."
"Awesome! Now you get to do the best part." Alix moved to a nearby bench and set down the skates. "For a beginner, these two are probably the best fit. This one," She held the skate with a leather body and three bright blue lines across it. "Is second-hand, but the toe stop's still in good shape. It's meant to help you brake really quick or just check your speed."
"Oh yeah, like the ones from yesterday," He noted as he joined her side. "But it was kinda worn out."
"Yeah…I have a bit of a habit of spamming it during matches, especially when a blocker slams me."
"...I'm guessing that would be someone from the other team?" Lance assumed as he put on the first pair, with the boots proving to be a tight fit.
"Yup, but both have them. They're the ones that prevent the jammer from passing their team and scoring. And since that's usually my role, I tend to tank a couple of hits!"
Lance slowly stood up, his legs jittering as he tried to stabilize himself.
"There!" He exclaimed as he grabbed a wall rack for support, waiting for the tremors to subside.
"How are they?"
"Slippery," He confessed, chuckling before he released his hand to gauge his balance. "They're comfortable, though."
"Great! Now, try them out and see how they treat you."
Alix helped Lance take a couple of steps until he adjusted his posture, only coming back to her after shakingly traversing the store, careful not to knock the €500 'GlacierGlide LuxeElite' skates off its display case.
"Not bad, dude," Alix picked up the second pair as he sat down to take his off, clearly fatigued.
Lance inhaled a deep breath. "Thank–"
"Maybe in a few weeks, you'll be able to ride them to school without passing out," She interjected with a hearty laugh.
"Or maybe, you'll be eating my dust by then," Retorted Lance, treating her to a pleased smirk. "I like these, but those are more my style," He gestured to the black rollerblades with crimson stripes that she was holding.
"I showed you the quads first 'cause they tend to be easier to get the hang of, and it's what I started with, but inlines shouldn't be too different." Alix confidently said as she handed them over. "The big thing to remember is that standing in these is trickier than with the others. And after you get down the movement, it's supposedly way smoother and quicker to turn."
Suppose–" Wait, you never used rollerblades?" Lance questioned as he rose from his seat, realizing the harsh truth of Alix's assessment. "What about the 'space skates'?"
She patted her bag. "It's gonna be my first time using them since finishing the paint job. Think of it like me giving you a sporting chance!"
Now skating around the store's floor, Lance scoffed and turned to her. "More like giving yourself an excu–oh crap!"
It seemed a rogue box had seen fit to sprout in the middle of his joyride, causing Lance to trip on it and fall to the ground, burying his face in the hardwood.
"Lance!"
He grunted in response as Alix hurried to him.
"You good?" She asked, bringing him up. "You gotta watch where you're going, man."
"Inlines are no joke," He replied, checking his aching legs for bruises before removing his skates and following her back to their spot. "But I still prefer them. They are way faster than the quads, and you don't have to do as much if that makes sense?"
They grabbed the items strewn on the bench and started moving towards the small counter, where a tall blond-haired woman lounged on her chair with her earphones on, seemingly unware of what had occurred.
"You're talking about gliding," Alix noted, then she opened the shoe box where his new skates rested and pointed to the wheels. "They're big, so you can glide for longer until you need to stride again, and since the two in the middle are tilted, it's easier to do really sharp turns with them!"
Placing the gear down, they noticed the cashier's resurgence of movement as she jumped from her seat.
"Alix! I haven't seen you here in months! Don't tell me you've ditched old Stacy for those fancy snobs over at Juste's place!" Stacy, who kept switching between English and French, lifted Alix off the ground and hugged her.
Alix chuckled in response. "I was literally here last month for the tourney! Emma had cracked her wheels, remember?" She protested.
"Like you need an excuse to visit me!" Stacy gently put her down and did a quick once-over at the teen to her side. "Well, howdy there!" She extended her hand, which he kindly shook.
"Bonjour–"
"Alix, why didn't you tell me you scored yourself such a fine young man! Is that why you haven't been showing up as much?"
A wave of second-hand embarrassment left Lance wincing as he averted his eyes to avoid the assumed awkward reaction from his friend.
"Lance is my friend," Alix calmly explained. Then, she gestured to the counter. "It's gonna be his first time skating, so we came here to get some stuff for him!"
"Oh my, that's even better!"
Stacy scurried to the other side of the counter and started scanning the items. One by one, they barely stayed in her hands before being thrown into a bag and swiftly wrapped.
"Is she always this… active?" Lance whispered.
In return, Alix pointed to the trash can filled with empty energy drinks.
Oh.
"You should've seen her on the track! She joined a few of our practice matches on summer break, and no one in the team could go through her, aside from me, of course!"
Just once, but still!
Soon enough, everything was scanned and paid for, and Stacy happily handed them over their purchases.
"Say, any special place you'll be racing? I'm closing for lunch in an hour if you need a ride."
"Thanks, Stace, but we're starting at the tower, so we'd get there sooner if we went now," Replied Alix, putting on her new skates. "Plus, Lance really needs a warm-up," she added, causing Stacy to bite back a giggle.
"You're paying for le goûter," He assured Alix as he tied his laces. "And it's gonna be delicious."
His pronunciation caused Stacy to give Lance a searching look, calling him as they went to leave. "Oh my Lord, I can't believe I didn't notice!" she exclaimed in English.
Dammit, ThoughtLance, internally sighing in preparation for the inevitable–
"You're from the Big Apple, aren't you, honey?"
Right now, Lance just wanted to leave the store with Alix and go do their silly race. But no, that would be grossly disrespectful to her and the kind woman, and Grand-Mère had taught him better than that.
"Yes." He muttered through gritted teeth, glancing at the dirty glass door plastered with ads. His only escape from this ordeal was so tauntingly close, as if daring him to neglect his morals and be selfish. However, he stayed despite his first impulses.
"I knew it! That accent is like your guys' calling card! Gosh, the last time I traveled there was back in Janua–" Stacy blabbered on, but Lance had already zoned out. He had long since grown numb to the longings and stories of a nation that refused to entomb itself in the depths of his mind and remain forgotten. And as he stood there, motionless like a statue, an arm wrapped around his, guiding him to the exit and snapping him back to reality.
What?
"Sorry, Stace, we're meeting up with some of our classmates over at the tower, don't wanna leave them hanging!" Excused Alix, opening the door before Lance could protest.
"No worries, have fun you two!" She hollered from her seat.
Now outside, Alix let go of her hold and started skating down the sidewalk, beckoning him to follow her.
"Alix," Lance spoke after catching up to her. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know," Alix confirmed, holding a reassuring smile as she matched his pace. "I also got stuff I don't want people chatting with me about, even if they mean well. Just gotta learn to bail when it gets too much."
From there, they quietly traversed the busy streets, relishing the incredible speed their new skates had gifted them, albeit with undeniable effort.
Once they reached the 6th Arrondissement, Alix noticed Lance lagging behind, his deep, sharp breaths speaking at his behest.
"Want me to slow down a bit?" She proposed, shortening her stride.
"You don't even look tired," He remarked as he struggled to keep going. "Do I just need more practice, or am I doing something wrong?"
"I'vebeen skatingsince I was 7, so a big part is definitely training, but your gliding needs work as well. When you push off with your foot, you gotta swing your other arm opposite to the striding leg, not the same way. Also, go easy on striding. The more you do it, the quicker you'll get worn out. Just try to glide for a bit longer before pushing again."
Following her advice, Lance noticed a notable change in his performance. The burden from his constant sprinting was severely lightened, and with his arm's support, his strides felt a lot smoother.
"How long did it take you to learn all of that?" He asked, mesmerized by his improvement. "Or did skating just come naturally to you?"
"I wish!" Confessed Alix, turning to him as she started reminiscing. "There wasn't anyone I knew that skated when I first started, so I had to figure it all out on my own…and I kinda sucked at it. But then my old man put me on this roller derby team, and the captain taught me basically everything there was to know about skates. When she left, they 'elected' me to be their new captain, and I've trained a couple of newbies already!"
They made the right choice, Thought Lance, giving Alix a challenging look as he picked up his speed.
At last, the two teens arrived at their destination. The afternoon rays shone upon the monument's metallic figure, and its illustrious gardens were crowded with visitors, a sharp contrast to yesterday's desolation.
As Lance waited for Alix to retie her rollerblades he marveled at the sight. There was nothing special about it, at least nothing he hadn't seen and awed at a million times already. It was more so the immaculacy, the audacity of the structure to stand tall despite barely holding on during those tenebrous hours, which snatched his gaze to the testament of the miraculouses' power.
"Admiring Tikki's fancy work?" Whispered Faang from his master's pockets, careful to remain hidden.
Lance hummed in agreement as he petted the little tiger, restarting the kwami's soft rumbling.
"I've seen her holders go from fixing small fishing boats to countries during their lifetime," He mused on the subject for another moment, then added. "On one occasion, entire continents were brought back!"
Before Lance could inquire about the event, Alix tapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm set!"
They began strolling through a golem-less Champ de Mars, the peoples' lively mood not going unnoticed by either of them.
"It feels kinda strange, right?" Questioned Alix, her fingers mindlessly brushing the trees' leaves as she passed them. "One day we're hiding in those bushes – scared as hell – and the other…"
"Écoliers are playing in them with their parents," He finished, still trying to accept the new surreal nature of his life. "But maybe that's for the best."
She gave him a searching look as they turned to the park's busy northeast entrance, the starting point of their race. "What do you mean?"
"That whole speech Hawk Moth made yesterday. He wants us to be scared, to stop living our lives, to just… keel over, so Ladybug and Chat Noir will give in for our sake." Lance sighed in seemingly unfounded annoyance. "He's just like any other terrorist."
Alix sensed a resentful subtext to his remark but decided not to delve into it. "So we just need to keep living then? Sounds easy enough!"
Time will tell, thought the kwami, matching his hunter's skepticism.
"I mean, it took some time for them to get here and beat Stoneheart, but it's like you said, probably their first time."
"Hopefully, they'll track him down soon, and everything will go back to normal," Lance solemnly wished, no matter how little he believed his words.
And hopefully, I'll be there to help them.
Helmets strapped, knees slightly bent, and laces tied, Alix and Lance awaited with bated breath for the crowd to pass.
"Remember, we go from here to Avenue Rapp, then up to–"
"The riverbank. After that, we stick close to the Seine until we reach Passerelle Senghor, then we pass it and head to Porte des Lions, again by the riverbank, and the first to touch one of the lion statues wins," Lance bashfully smiled at her stunned expression, inwardly proud he remembered all of that.
A mischievous smirk appeared on her face. "Actually, you forgot something."
He turned to her, his celebration cut short. "Wait, I did? What was it?"
"TO PAY ATTENTION!" Shouted Alix, sprinting from her spot onto the now-vacant streets.
Damn it!
"Hey! Wait up, cheater!" Lance exclaimed as he followed the red blur dashing further and further away, leaving nothing but specks of dust and faint chuckles in her wake.
After reaching the river and looking at the seemingly endless path to his right, one thing became evident to Lance.
I am so gonna end up paying.
He grunted and groaned as he attempted to catch up to the speeding figure, his legs aching with each stride.
"C'mon Lance, keep going!" Encouraged Faang, cheering on his tired hunter. "Don't forget the advice Alix gave you!"
Eventually, his perseverance proved fruitful as Alix slowed her step, her stamina noticeably sapped, allowing him to close the gap.
"N–need a break?" He quipped as they both gasped for breath, the wind hitting their face serving as their only refreshment.
"In your dreams!" Alix retorted, defying her body's pleas with a burning glint in her eyes. "I'm just getting started!"
With that, she was off again.
The next point in their race, Passerelle Senghor, appeared to have stumped Alix's progress as Parisians and tourists alike covered the famous lovers' bridge, permitting Lance a brief respite.
"Now's your chance! Just cross the bridge and take the win!" Beckoned the little tiger.
"I'm trying!" Muttered back Lance, the weary pain gnawing at his legs doing him no favors.
Mudding his way through the crowds, he heard muffled shouts of "Move!" and "Get out of the way!" as his competitor struggled to sway around the human obstacles in her path.
However, just before he took the lead, the once low hum emanating from Alix's wheels shifted into a piercing whirring noise as the blockade cleared, allowing her to rush right past him with remarkable ease.
"Get ready to call Marinette!" She exclaimed, already skating down the riverbank, showing no sign of stopping.
"Only to tell her you lost!" Lance sneered back, following the elusive skater with newfound determination.
Alix could now see the familiar statues off in the distance, and in turn, the lanes of traffic standing between her and Marinette's heavenly creations.
Crap! If the sign's red when I get to the crosswalk, I could be screwed.
During the course, Alix discovered the hard way the minute differences rollerblades brought with them at high speeds. The most notable was the change of balance due to the different arrangements of the wheels, forcing her to constantly readjust her posture as she fought her muscle memory, losing precious speed in the process.
"C'mon! C'mon!" She pleaded to the inanimate walk button as she violently pressed it over and over again.
"I'm here!" Announced Lance, immediately grabbing the street pole to support his failing body. "And I'm winning this race!" He said with the few sparks still left in him.
"We'll see!"
Lance and Alix adopted a ready stance as the cars stopped. The surrounding air was filled only with their deep breaths until the fated "(Click)" of the traffic lights forced a sharp inhale from them. With no room for hesitation, they bolted from their spot and darted to the other side.
Lance reached out his shaking hand in preparation, the haze in his vision having worsened his depth perception..
(Tap!)
"I WON!" Both shouted in elation, startling the passersby on the sidewalk. "NO, I WON!" They continued, now facing each other.
(...)
"Wait…who won?" Questioned Lance, sitting down against the limestone walls, his knees finally giving out as the adrenaline drained from his muscles.
Alix reflected for a minute before eventually sighing and joining his side.
"No idea."
Their exhausted bodies encouraged the teens to rest there for a while.
As Lance waited for everything to stop hurting, a thought crossed his mind. With a playful smirk, he grabbed his phone and opened ChatAll. "So, what should I tell Marinette?"
Alix simply chuckled. "That we're both idiots."
His finger hovered over his classmate's profile. "I'm still down for le goûter if you are. I'm cool with paying."
Alix waved him off. "Nah, you spent like 200€ at Stacy's already. I'll get it."
"But you probably won anyway. We agreed the loser pays," He pressed on, unknowingly touching his screen.
"You don't know for sure! The blades were screwing with my balance the whole time, so I coulda lost because of that. I'm paying!"
"You're forgetting your nine years of exp–."
"In roller skates," Alix corrected as she crossed her arms. "Trust me. There's a difference," She assured him, the race having cleared her previous presumptions.
Lance rose from the floor, slightly annoyed. "Still, I never skated before!"
"And this was my first time using rollerblades!" Alix exclaimed with a frown, getting up as well.
"I'll pay for it!" Announced a third unidentified voice from Lance's phone. "It's on the house," It cheerfully added.
They looked at each other, confused, then turned to the voice's origin.
"M–Marinette?" He asked, a flush taking over him. "I–I'm sorry, I didn't–"
"It's okay! Say, Lance, what pastries do you like?"
"Uh…" The sudden question stumped him for words, and with his flush now obvious to Alix, she forced herself to stifle a snicker. "pains au chocolat?"
"Great! I'll see you guys soon!"
After Marinette hung up, Alix began laughing uncontrollably, only stopping to glance at his blushing face. "Nice going, dude! You got us free food!" She praised, fist-bumping him on the shoulder.
"I–it wasn't on purpose! I swear!" Lance moved to stand by the crosswalk, staring at the glistening Seine to recompose himself.
"Sure, mec," She teased, following him after the light turned green.
Unbeknownst to both, Faang was having the time of his life.
When he opened the door to 'Tom and Sabine's Boulangerie Pâtisserie' a warm, sweet aroma enveloped the two, leaving Lance in a charmed trance until Alix nudged him forward.
A small smiling woman with fair skin and short black hair stood behind the counter, gently handing a brown paper bag to a customer before bidding them farewell.
"Hi Sabine, hi Tom!" Greeted Alix as she moved further inside, causing the cashier's smile to grow and pleasantries to be heard from the back. "Marie said we could have our goûter here."
"Your go–?" She shifted her focus to the lone boy awkwardly standing in the doorway. "Oh! I'm so sorry, dear! I didn't see you there!"
Lance stepped closer to the counter, treating her to a polite nod. Then, he recited the formal greeting Grand-mère hadtaught him from a young age. "Bonjour Madame, ravie de vous rencontrer."
The woman giggled at his formality and nodded in return. "You flatter me, dear, but please, call me Sabine."
"I'm Lance," He provided.
"And I'm the baker king!" Exclaimed someone out of view, the voice coming from the back again.
Sabine adopted a stern yet pleading tone. "Tom! Introduce yourself like an adult."
"Alright, alright, ma douce."
A big mustached man wearing a plain white shirt and a flour-covered apron emerged from the bakery's kitchen and waved at the two teens with his equally big hands. "Hey, I'm Tom. Marinette should be up in our apartment with your food. Just knock on the door, and she'll let you in. If you need anything, we'll be down here," He finished by pecking his wife on the cheek, powdering her in flour.
"Tom!" Sabine snatched a cloth from a small drawer as they laughed together.
While Alix ran up the stairs, excited about the promise of a goûter prepared by her friend, Lance idled on the steps, his eyes lingering on the joyful couple below.
(...)
"They're waiting for you," Whispered Faang, patting Lance's tucked hand to garner his attention.
Lance shook his head and turned to see Alix climbing the second set of stairs. "Right…thanks, buddy."
By the time he reached the apartment, Alix was already inside, sitting on one of the stools by the kitchen counter and munching on an éclair, gesturing him to enter.
"Where's Marinette?" Lance asked, shutting the door behind him. Looking around revealed a tidy living room and a long hallway to his left, and a white staircase leading to a closed trapdoor to his right.
"Up In her room. Said she was busy with something," explained Alix in between bites. She removed the lid off the box on her side and pushed it towards him. "Told us to start without her."
Lance's stomach nearly roared at the sight. Croissants, macarons, éclairs piled by the dozen, and of course, his pains au chocolat still releasing plumes of a delicious fragrance right into his nose.
"The bakery next to my home doesn't even make these anymore!" He admitted, sitting on the opposite seat to her before biting into his favorite pastry, the flavor blowing away his already high expectations.
So good.
Alix shot Lance a puzzled look. "What kind of bakery doesn't do pains au chocolat?"
"The kind that's running out of business," He replied, chuckling, "But, I was wondering…how did I do?"
She leaned against the counter, lazily biting into the last of her éclair as she pensively mulled over the race. "I'd need to have you go against someone else to properly rate your skill, but the biggest problem was definitely your glides. They were too shaky, and without a good posture, you'll lose speed like crazy. Kinda like what happened to me and the 'space skates'. Other than that, not badfor your first time."
A soft "(Click)" from above snatched their attention, allowing Faang to steal an untouched macaron from Lance's plate before darting back to his hiding spot.
"Took you long enough!" Teased Alix as Marinette emerged from her room, the dark, heavy bags under her eyes covered by makeup that only her friend could spot and wonder about. Last time Marie used makeup for her bags was during the finals, and she hated it 'cause it made her eyes sting.
"Sorry for the wait, guys. I was finishing taking measurements for a hat I'm working on."
Marinette fetched a water jug from the fridge and poured it into their cups.
"You design?" Asked Lance as he went to grab a pastry that wasn't there anymore.
That sneaky tiger.
"It's pretty basic stuff, but yeah."
"Marie, don't you dare downplay yourself! Those socks you gave me last Christmas were rad as hell!" Reminded Alix, eating the strawberry macaron left in the box out of spite.
She giggled in response but remained critical. "You're just saying that because they had candy cane skates on them!"
"Exactly! Only a future Gabriel's head designer could make that bold choice!"
Marinette sipped her water while musing about Alix's ridiculous yet endearing claim. I'd be lucky if I ended up fetching coffee for him. "By that logic, you'll be Tsurugi Industries' chief engineer with how much time you spend on your skates."
"That's the goal!" She proudly confessed.
Then there was a pause.
Lance simply ate in silence as he felt two pairs of eyes burning a hole in his skull.
This is going to be a fun talk, He sarcastically thought before inevitably meeting their combined gaze with a "What's up?"
"What about you, mec?" Started Alix, her crumb-filled plate betraying her change of focus.
"Yeah, what do you want to do after graduating school, Lance?" Continued Marinette.
"Well…" Lance knew he couldn't just say 'I have no idea', his actual answer, so he opted for, "I'm still thinking about it."
"But when you were a kid, there must've been something you dreamed about, right? I remember wanting to run the bakery, but only selling macarons to my friends," Recalled Marinette, playing with the sweet in her fingers, her eyes shining in nostalgia.
"I–" Lance thought back to his childhood dreams before abruptly stopping. "No."
"Not everybody knows what they want to be from the get-go, Marie," Explained Alix, giving Lance's expression a subtle once-over. "That science teacher we had two years ago got me into how bikes and cars work. Before him, I had no idea what I wanted to do!"
"So what you're saying is, in the future, when I have car troubles, I can just call you?" Lance inquired with a playful smirk, hoping to change the subject.
"Sure! As long as you pay me, of course!" Alix happily replied, quick to catch on.
The conversation soon devolved to mindless chit-chat and eventually a UMS3 three-way tournament, which Lance gladly entered and was consequently absolutely destroyed at.
With the evening approaching and the bakery closing for the day, Marinette led Lance and Alix to the front door. Before locking up, she wished the two a good night with the promise to hang out again.
Now outside on the ever-emptier streets, Alix aimlessly skated back and forth the sidewalk while she waited for Lance to get ready. "Hey, dude…"
He paused from putting on his skates and looked up at her. "Yeah?"
"I never thanked you for yesterday." She recalled, the cold wind filling the calm silence between them. "That golem would've squashed me if you weren't there."
"Oh…" At the time, Lance was so focused on surviving he hadn't delved much into the implications of his actions. Keeping himself and the ones with him safe seemed a good enough mindset to fixate on while his body worked through the adrenaline. Yet he couldn't help but smile at the praise. "Of course, no problem."
"The Louvre's launching an Egyptian expo on Saturday if that sounds like your kind of thing. Did you wanna check it out?"
Lance rose from the bench and tightly gripped the trash can next to it to balance his legs. "I've heard about it–but didn't the tickets sell out in two hours or something?"
Alix rolled her eyes before stopping and turning to him with a knowing grin. "I know someone," She revealed, amusedly watching as Lance's eyes widened and his cheeks tinged a light pink.
In response, he let out a low groan, embarrassed. "Of course you do."
After agreeing on a meeting time and mentioning a potential rematch the two went their separate ways, with Alix going back home, hoping to have dinner with her dad still, and Lance heading to the twins' boat, excited to tell them about his day.
Walking through Paris at night offered Lance both a feeling of wonder and uneasiness. The city was beautiful; that was obvious, even if he couldn't fully appreciate its classic architecture or the artistic intricacy of its imposing monuments. Yet, the intrinsic quietude that permeated his moonlight walks, rarely interrupted by the occasional music from passing nightclubs, left him with a lasting restlessness, only quelled by his new companion's presence.
"Faang?" Lance asked while the little tiger rested in his jacket's collar, the desolate neighborhoods allowing him to emerge from hiding. "You're the kwami of ambition, correct?"
"Yes," He answered, looking up at his hunter's expression after noticing the uncertainty in his tone.
"But…I don't really have any big plans for my future. Isn't that a bit mismatched? Like, I couldn't even tell them what I wanted to be because I… I didn't know, and I still don't."
Faang hovered to face him with a comforting smile, his soft tangerine eyes reflecting the dim glow from the lamp posts around them. "Ambition isn't a contest, Lance. It's not about how quickly you get a goal or the time it takes you to achieve it. At its core, ambition isn't just your desire but your effort and commitment to accomplish a goal when you do find one. And by my definition, which is the only one that matters, your ambition is crazy high; you simply need a chance to shine it," The kwami finished by moving to the side, causing the once-obscured street light to irradiate his master, warming Lance's chilled body.
"You really believe that?" Asked a more relieved Lance, intentionally slowing his step as he finally caught sight of the ship, the party lights strewn around the stage's pillars illuminating it like a beacon in the shadows.
"No. I know it." Reassured Faang before phasing into his holder's pocket.
Climbing down to the dock backgrounded by the Eiffel Tower, Lance spotted Luka resting on the stage's floor against one of the speakers, humming softly while delicately tuning his guitar.
"Hey, Luka! Check this out!" He announced, waiting for his friend to glance at his footwear with a surprised and amused look before showing off some tricks Alix had taught him, narrowly missing the bollards. "I went skating with Alix; she's in mine and Jules's class and really into skating! And now, I got my own roller ska–blades!"
Luka set down his guitar and met him by the boarding plank; an indecipherable mood colored his face, and the soothing melody dissipated.
Lance's goofy expression quickly turned serious, and worry settled in. "Mec, is everythi–"
Without warning, an arm circled his back and pulled him hard, startling Lance until Luka placed his head on his shoulder and closed the embrace.
"Thank you," Luka breathed, the simple gratitude clicking something in Lance's mind. "Thank you so much."
"How did it go at the station?" He muttered back, returning the hug.
"The cops said it wasn't his first time. They're looking for him."
"Good… that's good. What about your mom?"
"She… wanted to hunt him down herself–"
I already did that, A dark thought sprouted within him.
"–Ended up buying Jule a can of pepper spray and putting her in a self-defense class. She is also moving the boat closer to your school after the permit goes through. It'll be a longer trip for me, but I can wake up earlier."
"And Jules? How's she handling it?"
"Still shaken, but her melody is improving now that it's over."
Once the two released from the hold, Luka guided Lance to the stage, offering him his guitar after they sat down.
"You can't hand me that! That's like your baby; Your very expensive baby!"
"I was tuning it for you. Jule said you went skating, so I expected you to be too lazy to–"
"I'm not lazy for not wanting to circle the entire city!"
"Mm-hmm," Luka gently set the instrument on Lance's lap. Then, he snatched a second, more beat-up electric guitar from its case and hooked it to the amplifier. "Rebel's Roar?" He proposed with a knowing smile.
Lance carefully handled the nearly €1000 instrument and looked at him befuddled. "You want me to play Rebel's Roar with your guitar!?"
Luka gave him a light nod and hit play on his phone, causing the speakers to roar into action as the song began. "I'd like you to take the lead on this one. I'll do chords."
Seriously! Does he want me to wreck the guitar!?
"But if that's too much for you–"
Lance met his friend's playful gaze with a determined one. "We've played this song a million times before. I got it."
With another nod from Luka, they started playing.
Rebel's Roar was infamous among rock lead guitarists for its deceptively easy start – slow tempo, open string riff, and basic melody. 'The calm before the storm' many called it. At around the 1:13 minute mark, the shift to a fast-paced solo with strict timing and transitions between guitar moves required the lead's full focus, which was when Luka started talking again.
"I want us to start a band…"
"B–busy–right now." Let out Lance, completely engrossed in strumming the guitar as the song's tempo kept rising.
Luka carried on. "We would play both alternative rock and heavy metal. You and I write the songs; I take the vocals and rhythm, and you do the lead for rock. Jule would be the bass, and she said she knows someone for drums."
"You–I can't be the lead! That's too important to mess up," He protested, earning him a pleased look from Luka as he nailed every note.
"For metal, we would switch roles."
With the hardest part of the track successfully cleared, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm not singing to an audience, Luka. Especially if I'm writing the songs."
"You have an incredible passion when you sing your truth, Lance. I won't push you, but please, think about it. Doing metal without you as vocals would be an injustice to good music."
"Luka, there's a big difference between singing my lyrics to the three of you versus a bunch of strangers I never met. They're personal to me. You're the only ones I share them with."
"I understand that, and I thank you for sharing them with us."
Luka rose from his spot after the song ended and led Lance to the rails overlooking the shimmering panorama painted across the Seine. "We can start with just rock; I'm cool with that." He nudged his side. "All that matters is if you're in it. I don't trust anyone else to lead."
"What about Jules?"
"My sister serves as the foundation of our music; the bass's resonant tune compliments her own."
Lance gazed at the silent, serene river while he mulled over Luka's offer. It was thanks to him he even knew how to play; the hours upon hours of strumming the same chorus until he could effortlessly pull it off, were only bearable due to his friend's encouragement and desire to teach him.
The criticism and potential negative reception that a band brought with it didn't necessarily thrill him, but since they were écoliers it was all Luka dreamt about, and Lance owed him that and much more.
"We'll need a name for it." He replied, nudging him back.
The wide grin that soon overtook his friend's face cleansed his remaining doubts.
