Thief | Lukadrien

Part 15 - Breakdown (flashback pt. 2)

TW: depressive thoughts, mental breakdown

Adrien's POV
(still in flashback mode; a few days after the last chapter)

My phone started beeping, signalling that it was time to get up and get ready for school. However, the noise wasn't enough to get me out of bed.

F*ck.

It was one of those days.

"Adrien, it's time to get up!" Plagg ordered, jumping on my head, which was buried underneath the covers. "I need my morning Camembert!"

I groaned and pulled my pillow to my chest.

"Kid?"

I shook my head.

"Hey, what's the matter? You have school in an hour."

"Do I have to go?"

"Your father would be mad if you didn't. Besides, don't you want to see your friends?"

I sighed and emerged from my blanket. My eyes were probably red and puffy, but if Plagg noticed, he didn't say anything. I didn't have the energy to shower, so I threw on the nearest outfit, grabbed my book bag, and headed downstairs.

"What about breakfast?" Plagg asked. It was less of a complaint, and more of a concern.

"Not hungry."

"Adrien, you can't go to school on an empty stomach. You won't be able to learn anything if all you're thinking about is food!"

"I'll eat at lunch."

Plagg flew over and sat on my shoulder as I walked through the house. The kwami placed his little arms around the side of my neck.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Hugging you. Is it working or do I just look ridiculous?"

I chuckled lightly. "Both. Thanks, Plagg."

Plagg flew into my shirt as Nathalie sauntered into the main hall, a clipboard in hand.

"Hey, Nathalie?" I called out. "May I stay home from school today? I don't... I'm not feeling well."

She gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry Adrien, but I'm afraid your father won't allow it."

I sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Bye, Nathalie."

And with that, I pushed through the doors and headed for the car.

...

At school, I walked into class without a word to anyone. I didn't have the strength to put up a cheerful appearance today. While the teacher gave her lesson, Nino put a hand on my shoulder, silently asking what was wrong, but I just brushed him off.

Several memories were running through my mind. I tried pushing the thoughts away so I could concentrate on the lesson that just started, but the empty feeling that remained was just as distracting.

"Yo, dude," Nino said suddenly. "Where's your head today, man?"

"Huh?"

"Mlle. Bustier told us answer the questions on the board in our notes."

"Oh. Right."

I flipped open my notebook, and pulled out a pencil, but I wasn't able to concentrate. It was like there was something bubbling inside of me, but it was all so well mixed that I couldn't tell exactly what it was.

I stared at the wooden table in front of me, totally unaware to what was going on in my surroundings. I thought about my mother, and how she wasn't coming back. I thought about my father, and how he only saw me as a doll he could make money off of. I thought about all those times I sacrificed myself for Ladybug, secretly hoping that she couldn't revive me.

I could sense myself losing control. My feelings were spiralling around me, blocking my vision. I couldn't see clearly anymore. With this storm of emotion came my tears, quietly raining down onto the table. I heard Nino repeatedly ask me what the matter was, but I couldn't speak. I wasn't sure what to do, so I ran out of the room without opening my eyes.

Breathing was no longer automatic. I kept gasping for air as I stumbled through the hall, but I didn't get far before I collapsed onto my knees across the tile floor. I wrapped my arms around myself as I tried to get ahold of this mess, but my mind wasn't listening to reason.

"What is wrong with me?" I asked myself. This wasn't the first time this had happened, but it had never occurred in public before. Normally, I was at home, and I'd lock myself in the bathroom until I had a grasp of reality again.

If Plagg were here, he'd probably try to calm me down, but he was back in the classroom in my book bag. I had to pull through on my own this time.

"I hate you," I told my brain. "F*cking bastard."