Welcome back! Hope you enjoy this chapter. As per usual:
Italics can mean an emphasis on words, french, or thoughts, depending on the context.
Marinette groaned and face planted straight into her folded arms. There was a worksheet on her desk, with only a few lines filled out. She had tried to work on it, really, she did. But she just couldn't focus on the work.
Not while she heard Adrien and... Keana talk in English right behind her. They were pretty quiet, and Marinette hadn't ever done well enough in her English class to fully understand what they were saying.
But Keana was probably flirting with him and trying to corrupt poor Adrien.
She could imagine it now- Adrien's innocent smile getting replaced by a sarcastic and cruel one while Keana laughed behind her back as he attacked people with scathing remarks in English. Then when it was all over, she would follow him home, hanging off of his arm all the while. Then the two would get married and Marinette wouldn't be invited to the wedding! And then they'd have three babies and-and-
And a hamster!
Alya chuckled at her misery. "Girl, you got it bad."
Marinette whined. "It's not my fault Adrien is so perfect in every way! He's kind, genuine, and he's-" She cut herself off with a dreamy sigh.
Alya's mouth slid into a sly grin. "And he's hot."
"And he's ho-t-t-" The admission snapped her out of her daydream and a fiery red blush sprung on her cheeks. The disguised heroine, protector of Paris, slayer of evil sputtered. "A-Alya!"
"You walked right into that one," The blogger snickered. Then she pulled out her phone, gasping at a message she saw.
Marinette tried to keep a straight face, knowing exactly what the message was. It was something that she had sent in the morning, but Alya had been getting flooded with notifications recently
"Girl, you won't believe what message I just got." Alya looked seconds away from squealing or fainting from extreme excitement.
"W-What is it?" Marinette questioned, then cringed. She was surprised she managed to keep this a secret this long, especially since she was a terrible liar and just as bad of an actor.
"Ladybug replied to my questions!" She squealed, clutching her phone to her chest like it was a lifeline.
"That's amazing, Alya!" Marinette celebrated. This was a bit more genuine- she was very happy that her best friend was able to get exposure like this in her chosen career field.
"It was under a guest account, so I won't be able to track it," Alya admitted, "but she replied to one of my blog posts about the questions regarding the akuma attack!"
"How do you know it's actually her?" Marinette questioned, just to keep the blogger on her toes.
Alya hummed. "Well, people who usually spread information, and don't actually know what they're doing, do it for clout. But it was a guest account, so it wouldn't be able to get any followers."
Marinette gasped. "That's so cool! What did she say?"
Alya grinned and winked. "You'll just have to wait for me to post it on the Ladyblog!"
Marinette fakely mumbled something under her breath along the lines of 'I thought we were friends' and the likes. But she knew she wouldn't have to wait long, especially considering how fast Alya was typing.
There hadn't been any akumas since Stoneheart, but it was commonly agreed that it wasn't a one off occurrence. The two superheros hadn't been seen much by the public since then, only spotted occasionally from glancing eyes. There hasn't been much information regarding the akumas or Hawkmoth in general.
There wasn't any way to ask the heroes questions, or even communicate with them reliably. The information drought was increasing the worry and concern of the Parisians. Combined with the lack of any akumas, tensions were high and it felt like a ceasefire that was going to break at any moment. And no one wanted to be around when it did.
Marinette sighed, feeling a little guilty about it all. She knew everything, but she hadn't thought to share the information to ease everyone's worries. She hadn't even thought that people might be worried about the lack of information.
It was her fault, but she's already began trying to fix the mistake.
And Alya had helped a lot to both mitigate and spread everything
Alya had created the Ladyblog to act as some sort of newsource. She ran it, obviously, but other people could post their own stories and comment on it. As such, it had more information circulating on it than even the news stations. Alya even had started to section off her blog into actual news, rumors, conversations, and art. The rumors section was actually looking more like some sort of conspiracy place or some sort of bigfoot hunt where people post 'photo evidence' of the existence of the heroes.
Sometimes there are genuine sightings and photos.
But it seems more often than not it was spoof postings like people dressed up in a ladybug costume or a picture of a literal ladybug or cat.
Alya might have to make a new category.
Marinette shuddered.
Memes.
"What's wrong, girl?" Alya questioned.
"N-nothing, just... thinking." Marinette didn't want to bring it up. Just. Incase Alya hadn't thought of it.
Marinette refocused herself on the worksheet. It was a much needed review from last year.
Then she heard Keana and Adrien again speak in that accursed language and she was quickly distracted again.
. . .
"I'm home!" Marinette called out, slipping her shoes off in an area customers can't get to.
Her papa, Tom Dupain-Cheng, poked his head from the kitchen. His massive frame was covered in flour, sugar, and other like manner things. His big hands were a bit full delicately folding some pastry bread, so he was unable to give her a hug.
He settled for a big smile that was as soft as the petals of the rose bush he used to flavor some of his pastries. "Welcome back!"
"I've got some homework, so I won't be able to help much with baking," she said apologetically.
Tom chuckled, "That's alright, but I hope you have some free time for some good ol' games between you and your pops."
Marinette grinned, "I think I can make you an appointment."
Her Mum, Sabine, poked her own head from the walk in cupboard. "Hopefully you two won't plan anything during dinner. We'll be having guests over."
"Guests?!" Marinette exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I did," Sabine reminded her forgetful daughter, "but you seemed very concentrated and distracted at the time, so I suppose I should have told you a few more times."
Marinette sighed. She did happen to forget things if her mind was preoccupied with a project or... Adrien. "No, It's alright. Is it anyone I know?"
"It's a family I helped when I volunteered after the akuma attack. They just moved here," Sabine smiled, "and they have a daughter around your age."
Tom smiled. "Maybe you'll find a new friend," he suggested.
"Maybe," Marinette shrugged, then nodded a little. She wasn't really looking for a new friend, what with all of the other things she had to worry about. Like being a hero, getting a start in her designer career, and... Adrien.
The secret superheroine then ran upstairs to make well on her promise to get her homework done. And maybe a new outfit sketch that's been bugging her for the past few days. She shut her trapdoor behind her.
Tikki flew out of her bag, stretched her tiny little arms and yawned. Her mouth opened impossibly wide, but everything about Tikki was impossible, so Marinette tried not to react too much.
"Marinette," the kwami started. "Maybe you should listen to your dad."
Marinette raised a quizzical eyebrow. "But I already have so much on my plate, you know that better than anyone."
"And you know how well friendships pay off," Tikki countered, stubby arms crossed. "You've only known Alya for a few weeks and look at how much she's supports you."
The fae creature looked at her with wide, shimmering puppy dog eyes. Marinette sighed. "I won't go out of my way to make this friendship happen."
Tikki was back to smiling. "All I want is for you to keep an open mind!"
Marinette agreed.
Until she saw who exactly came through the door.
. . .
I stood in the back of my family.
There were multiple reasons for this. One, so I could follow someone instead of being the first to walk into the foreign environment. Two, so attention would stay off of me for as long as possible. Three, so I could hide behind my family and not make eye contact, in hopes that my brother would distract them.
Knowing how my family works, my parents would end up throwing me under the bus no matter where I stood.
The store front had a closed sign. Anxiety fluttered in my chest at the whole situation.
"Why didn't we invite them to our house?" I asked. At least at my house, I could hide in my room once the dinner was over.
My question went unanswered, save a shrug from Chase.
The door opened with a jingle, revealing Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, with a large, broad man behind her. That must be her husband. The size difference between the two was comical. Mr. Dupain-Cheng must have been six foot three at the least, and his height was completely filled with his bulk. Sabine didn't even make it to his shoulders.
Mr. Dupain-Cheng was intimidating.
Knight was laughing at me. Their laughter faded when I sent them the impression of him through our link.
"Come on in," Sabine welcomed. "The house is just up those stairs."
"Would you like us to take our shoes off?" Mom asked.
"Oh no," Sabine said, "that won't be necessary."
"That's always the question, isn't it?" Dad snorted. "Shoes off has the bonus of keeping the floors clean, but comes with the consequence of smell."
Mr. Dupain-Cheng chuckled. "And the look of them."
I pouted, upset that my dad had taken the time to learn big words that I didn't understand. I could garner the general idea of what he said, mostly because I knew the context and his humor... fed into the dad humor stereotype. Which was definitely a stereotype for a reason.
Maybe it's less of a stereotype and more of a fact. I paused, remembering that not all dads were good ones and amended the thought. The fact only applies to good dads. Probably. Maybe. I'm just going to stick to calling it a stereotype.
I followed the crowd of five other people up to the actual house part of the building. At some point I learned that Mr. Dupain-Cheng's name was Tom. The conversation flowed from jobs, to recipes, and to family as we entered the living room.
A girl was sitting on a couch. She looked familiar. I squinted at her, trying to think of a name to match up with her face, but nothing came to mind. I think it started with an m, or was it an n? Marnie? It definitely was a strange name, to me anyway, but I couldn't for the life of me think of it.
All I could remember was that she sat in the front row in front of Adrien.
Her own eyes fell on me and I gave her a tiny wave, hoping she hadn't noticed my staring and wouldn't think I was creepy or something. I quickly averted my attention to my surroundings once she failed to reciprocate the greeting.
The Dupain-Cheng's kitchen was in the same vicinity as their living room. A temporary table was set up in the living room along with a few cafe style chairs, that they probably took from their shop. The smell of cooked onion came from the kitchen and I peeked over my brother's shoulder to spy something that looked like chile bubbling on the stove. There was also a sliced baguette resting on the counter.
I glanced back at her to gauge her reaction, only to find her expression frozen. She looked vaguely constipated.
"This is Marinette," Tom put a meaty hand on the petit girl's shoulder.
Ahhh, that's her name. I shrugged slightly. I was pretty close with Marnie.
"This is Keana, " Mom gestured to me, "that is Chase."
Chase nodded his head in greeting.
The conversation (that I was not really paying attention to- they might be on the topic of old injuries?) moved to the table. Food still wasn't being served, due to the chatty nature of both families.
"So which part of America are you from?" Sabine inquired.
"That's a bit complicated," Dad started. "Our family has moved around a lot due to my profession. I was born in Hawaii. We last lived in Colorado."
"Oh, how nice is Hawaii?" Tom gushed.
"We love it, but sometimes it can get a bit small-"
I tuned out the conversation again. Knight was bored, and was poking at our link like a child trying to get the attention of their mother. I wasn't much better, since I was also bored, tired, and hungry. I glanced at the clock on their oven, dismayed to see it was already 6:30.
I nudged Mom, looking pointedly over at the food. "Just be patient," came her reply.
"I haven't had anything to eat since lunch," I said, hoping to speed up the process of things.
It took another five minutes to get the food on the table, especially once Dad got on a roll telling childhood stories. Not his own stories, rather ones regarding Chase and I.
"You play the Ukulele?" asked Sabine.
"A little," I play off.
Chase scoffs. "She's good at it."
I kicked at his foot under the table for exposing me like that.
The food came out. It was 'French Onion Soup.' I wondered if the French part of it's name was necessary since we were in France. It tasted like it smelled. The bread was also good. Really good. Like, the best bread I had ever eaten. Including Texas Roadhouse rolls.
Those rolls are peak bread. Were peak bread.
Dupain-Cheng has ruined all other bread in the best way possible.
I shared the bliss of the bread with Knight, tearing off chunks, discreetly, and dropping them into my messenger bag. I didn't know how Knight ate since they didn't have a mouth. Some mysteries are best left unsolved.
I focused on that for the rest of the evening, not noticing Marinette's silence or her early disappearance.
. . .
"Uhhhhggg!"
Marinette's fists smacked her mattress and her pillow muffled her groan.
"Marinette..." Tikki started.
The superheroine pushed herself up from her heap of misery. "I know you wanted me to have an open mind. But why did it have to be her! That boyfriend stealing bi-"
"Marinette!" Tikki glared. "She didn't steal your boyfriend. Adrien isn't your boyfriend and you don't even know if they're dating."
The teenager knew that was what the other girl, her rival, wanted. It was obvious. Anyone with eyes could see how perfect Adrien was. So Marinette didn't exactly trust any girl who hung around him as often as Keana.
"I'm sorry, Tikki." Marinette pouted. "It's just... Something about her seems off."
The Kwami of Creation hesitated. "You might have a point."
Marinette's neck audibly snaps when she turns her head to Tikki. "What."
"Her Essence," Tikki says, "I can't sense it."
"...Essence?" Marinette questioned.
"It's hard to explain, but everyone has an amalgamation of things that makes them who they are. Personality, memories, experiences, all of it contributes to someone's Essence." Tikki explained. "All kwamis can see Essence, to some degree. Kwamis that link to personality or emotion tend to see it the clearest. As the Kwami of Creation, I can see a little deeper."
"Is Keana Hawkmoth!? Hawkmoth would try to hide-"
"No!" Tikki scowled, her little hands on her hips. "Keana is not Hawkmoth. No magic spell would be able to conceal a kwamis essence and that level of corruption. Also, Hawkmoth is a grown man."
"You're right..." Marinette mumbled.
Tikki shook her head. "Marinette you need to stop jumping to conclusions about people you know nothing about!"
Marinette cringed.
"It's strange, yes, that I can't sense her Essence." Tikki continued. "I've never encountered something like this before, but that's no reason for us to needlessly cruel."
"Sorry, Tikki..." Marinette had shrunk considerably from the scolding.
The kwami hasn't said much out of anger or annoyance towards her holder. Whenever the girl did something that was unadvised, Tikki would spout kind words of wisdom. If Marinette did worse than unadvised, Tikki would express her disappointment. The Kwami hardly ever raised her voice.
"I-I'm not mad at you, I-" Tikki sighed. "I've known people who've done the same thing and it only ever leads to bad things. I don't want the past to repeat itself again."
Marinette nodded, eyebrows pinched and lips pursed.
"I'll do better," she promised.
"...You should try befriending her-"
"I'm good!" Marinette squeaked.
. . .
Chase corners me the next day regarding the bread I snuck into my bag.
"Can I have one?" He pleads, because the bread was more addicting than cocaine.
I glanced into the messanger bag that I smuggled extra slices into. "I think Knight ate them all."
His head snaps to the not-kwami-but-certainly-eldritch-abomination. Knight doesn't seem bothered by the attention. "But Knight doesn't have a mouth."
I shrugged.
"It's best not to question these things."
. . .
It was a typical day, like the dinner party hadn't even happened. I didn't mind this, as I found a form of comfort in routine, no matter how boring the routine was. This schedule still wasn't boring yet, since it was still very different from American school.
But there are always constants as I go from day to day.
Marinette ignored me. I suppose I hadn't realised it before, but she had an excuse to come up and talk with me, and she didn't take it. I wasn't particularly hurt by this, considering I certainly didn't go out of my way to talk with her. I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was also an introvert.
Adrien was a ray of sunshine. I wondered where he got his positive attitude from, considering his father was a recluse and most likely neglectful. Which was a snippet of information that he dropped on me out of nowhere when he asked about my parents. At the time, I had replied with something along the lines of 'they're pretty average, why?' Which was when Adrien gave enough clues about his own family for me to reach conclusions of my own.
Nino continued to be a cool dude. That didn't really need elaboration.
At the moment, Madam Bustier was standing at the front of the class, talking about an assignment with words that I didn't have the brain power to translate at the moment.
Project? Group project!?
My eyes widened, and I hastily attempted to make eye contact with Adrien, only to find out that he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at Nino. I panickedly glanced around the room, hoping to find anyone who didn't have a partner.
My eyes landed on Marinette- she was the only other vaguely familiar face in the room- only to look away quickly when she glared.
No, no no no!
There wasn't anyone left who I knew who didn't have a partner. The only other person there was- was-
Someone grabbed my wrist.
"eep!" I squeaked, pulling away.
"It's a group project, not a partner project." Adrien laughed. "Don't worry Keana."
"Yeah, dude" Nino said, "we can have three."
I blinked. "Did- the first thing in English you learned was dude?"
Nino smiled, and didn't respond, because that was confirmation enough.
We moved to the library, because this particular school was a bit more free roam than any of my previous experiences with schools. I'm inclined to believe that's because there isn't a big student population, so the rules can be a tad bit looser. Or something along those lines.
We were supposed to pick some event or someone from 1700s France who had a lasting impact.
"We could do Jean-François-Marie Arquier." Adrien suggested.
"I was thinking we could actually do Charles Dollé." Nino contested.
I had no idea who either of those people were.
"What do you think Keana?" Adrien turned to me.
"I- the only French person I know who lived during that time was Lafayette." And that was literally only because of Hamilton. The musical that I was addicted to for a year. I have since moved on from that hyperfixation, but it feels as though whenever I try to escape it keeps coming back.
"Which Lafayette, you're going to have to be more specific. There are a lot of Lafayettes." Adrien pressed.
Nino had gone still. Keana didn't like the gleam in his eye. The musician slowly lowered his headphones.
I shouldn't have mentioned something even related to Hamilton, I shouldn't have-
"Ah oui oui," Nino crowed, perfectly in beat with my dread, " je m'appelle Lafayette!"
"No. No. NO!" I clamped my hands over my ears.
"The Lancelot of the revolutionary set!" He said in perfect English.
I cry out in pain. "Don't do this to me!"
"I came from afar just to say "Bonsoir!"" Nino grinned at my suffering. "Tell the king, "Casse-toi!" Who's the best? C'est moi!"
It was impossible for me not to continue the song.
"Brrrah, brraaah! I am Hercules Mulligan-"
Adrien stared in confusion, we didn't get any work done, and the only thing learned was the Nino had the entire musical of English version of Hamilton memorized despite not understanding English all that well.
Fifteen minutes later, Nino dragged me away with an excuse about finding a book with Lafayette in it. Which was strange because we were allowed to use the internet and databases to find our resources and Nino would only ever open a book if his life was on the line. Even then...
Once we were in a fairly secluded place, Nino spun to face me. "I heard Adrien's birthday is on Friday."
"Oh," I said, "Is that what this is about?"
Nino nodded seriously.
"Dude," He said slowly, as if I were a child who didn't understand something. "This is gonna be his first birthday where he actually has friends to throw him a party."
"What gift do you think he would like?" I said. "He's rich, right? So he probably has everything we could think to give him."
Nino raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
"Dude." The DJ stressed. "His first birthday party."
"Oh- Oh!" I exclaim. "We are throwing him a party?"
Nino nodded, chuckling at my moment of obliviousness.
I blushed, averting my own eyes. I knew I wasn't well practiced in social aspects. Sometimes (read: most times) it took me a while to get the memo. Sometimes even Knight understood before me.
"Well," I continued, mostly to distract him from my moment of denseness, "Where do you think we should have the party?"
"Either the park or his house, if we can manage it." Nino smiled. "I can be the DJ and you can help decorate."
I hummed, wondering why we'd need music if it'd just be the three of us. "I'm not sure how well I can decorate in the park, but I'll try."
"We'll need streamers, speakers, activities, food, drinks, and a cake." He listed.
"Does the cake not count as food?" I questioned.
Nino waved it off. "We also need presents, for the effect."
"Yes," I said dryly. "For the effect."
Nino shot me a stink eye. "I don't know what you just said, but don't make fun of me."
"I have never made fun of anyone ever."
"You did it again."
. . .
Knight was in the maze of dust and paper and leather.
They drifted about, searching for an adequate area to taint with its presence.
A void particle drifted by and landed on the cover of a red book. A small spot of gray appeared, as though the color was leached from that spot.
T̴h̴i̶s҉ w҉i̷l̶l̵ d҈o҉.̷
Knight sneezed as the dust attempted to assault it.
M̸a̵y̸b̷e̶ n̶o҈t̴
. . .
I was lounging on my bed (a new development), bored out of my mind when the text came.
Nino
dude you wont believe what happened
Keana
What happened?
Nino
adriens dad is the WORST
Keana
Yeah, but wat happened?
*what
Nino
he wont let adrien have a party
Keana
At his house?
Nino
No
at ALL
I sat up.
What kind of dad doesn't let his kids celebrate their birthday?!
(I already knew the answer to my own question. Thusly I was contemplating gathering enough evidence to take this to a law firm)
Knight drifted over as, probably sensing my mixed up bag of emotions containing -but not limited to- despair, frustration, and an ever-so-slowly growing hatred.
They nudged my hand with their head. I gave them scratches with my thumb. They vibrated as if imitating a purr and I felt some of the negative bleed away.
I started typing my response -something along the lines of 'screw his dad'- but Nino texted me once more before I sent it.
Nino
There's been a change in plans.
We're going to have the party at his house.
Keana
Really?
Nino
Yes
The party starts at 4:30.
Keana
See you then, i guess
I stared at the response.
Something felt horrifically off about the whole thing.
"Mom!" I called, hoping she'd hear me. "Mom!"
There was no response.
Knight drifted from where they were inspecting my sock drawer like some troll.
C̸o̸n̸c̵e̵r̶n̵e̴d̵
"She probably can't hear me. " I groaned, standing up from my bed. "That's not really surprising."
Knight cozied up to my neck, camouflaging themselves in my hair.
t҉h̸i҈n̴g̶ w̵r̷o҈n̴g̶
"I know, I haven't ever seen Nino text in complete sentences before," I joked. Or use punctuation for that matter.
"I'm coming down Chase," I started down the ladder. Chase was at his desk, headphones in his ears, with a textbook in front of him.
He looked up. "What's up?"
"Do you know where Mom is?"
"She should be in her room."
"Okay," I climb down one more level. The room was devoid of any person and the bathroom door was wide open. I climb back up. "She's not here!"
Chase shrugged, focus still majorly on his paper. "She could be at the grocery store. I think she mentioned needing to get something."
"Well, tell her I'm at a friend's house if I'm not back before she is."
Chase raised an eyebrow. "Making friends already, hmmm?"
"Shut up." I pouted. I usually didn't make friends this quickly. Last time we moved, it took two years for me to find someone I would willingly call a friend. It took another year after that for me to expand my horizons to a whole friend group. I was rather dramatic about how long it'd take me to find one. In reality, it hardly took me a month for me to figure out that Adrien was my friend, and Nino was too. Chase and Pax were really the only people who I could consistently consider my friends, even if we were at times prone to sibling fights. Everyone else seemed temporary. Though, even now, Pax was gone. And Chase only had two more years before he also is going to leave for college.
I̶ s̴t̵a̷y̶ p̶e̶r̸m҉a҉n̸e҈n̶t҈
I smiled, lifting up a finger to stroke Knights head. You always cheer me up.
"Have fun," Chase said, "and don't forget to feed your eldritch horror."
"I'm pretty sure Knight can take care of themself, but alright."
The nice thing about Paris, or most places in Europe, is that everything is closer together. It only took a fifteen minute walk to get to Adrien's house. Nice weather makes a nice walk, and I can't really complain about 60 degrees fahrenheit with the sun shining and a light breeze. Which meant that I was early to the party. Five minutes early, but early nonetheless.
There were people around, people I recognised. People from class.
No. Nino tricked me. He never said anything about other people being there!
I stood there for a while, searching for the familiar red hat and headphones of Nino, but having no luck in finding him.
Which was around the time my table partner spotted me.
"Keana!" Ivan called, his voice sounding weirdly forced and his hand was raising up in an exaggerated fashion. He made his way over to me stiffly, Mylene standing close to his side. She also had a frozen look on her face, and it looked vaguely like her dog died, but she still had to go to school but she didn't want to explain what was wrong to everyone who asked.
In shorter words, both were out of character. Ivan doesn't go out of his way to interact with me and Mylene was a very genuine person who is more likely to cry about something than hide her emotions.
It was the nail in the coffin when Ivan put one of his burly arms over my shoulders- like I was some old friend.
"What is wrong?" I asked, biting my tongue before I could say 'with you.'
"Act natural," Ivan said, voice low and frayed with nerves. He began leading me to the group of people who were already there.
I didn't respond, because I knew if I did it would probably be snarky and mean. And Ivan probably didn't deserve it no matter how strange he's acting. "Where's Nino?"
Mylene and Ivan both winced.
"A-about that..." Mylene started. "He-he's been..."
She didn't finish her statement. Ivan stood frozen.
"He's been what?" I repeated, frustrated that they wouldn't answer my question. "Where is he?"
"Sorry, dude" came a familiar voice from behind me. Ivan paled and Mylene squeaked. "Nino isn't available."
I laughed. "Sure Nino, whatever you-"
Then I turned around and my eyes saw the yellow, blue, and red plastic man.
"-say"
The plastic man grinned, a smile that seemed a little too sharp for Nino.
"But the Bubbler would be happy to take your message."
Knight hissed in my mind and breath refused to return to my lungs.
An Akuma.
Hope you all enjoyed.
Comment any questions you have. I'll answer them to my best ability
If any of you are confused about why Stormy Weather isn't the first Akuma (after Stoneheart) it's because the show's episode timeline is not accurate, so I'll be using a different timeline. I already have it all written out (the timeline), so don't worry.