𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐, jasonette

viii. 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

The sun was shining low in the sky, casting dark shadows over where the evening birds were singing above the city of Paris. It was indeed a beautiful day—and Alya Cesaire, if asked, would have agreed, but for a completely different reason.

Her dress flitting in the wind, Alya barged through the crowds of people on the sidewalk with little regard as to what they thought of her. By the time she arrived at the Dupain-Cheng household, she was out of breath, panting heavily. Nevertheless, she ploughed on, striding into the bakery with an air of something important to say.

"Bonjour, Madame Dupain-Cheng," Alya said quickly, "Do you know where Marinette is?"

Smiling at her, Sabine pointed upwards, adding, "She's busy adding the final touches to that dress she's been working on."

Alya waved at her as she bounded up the stairs to her best friend's room. Knocking impatiently, Alya waited for an appropriate amount of time—that is about two seconds—before pushing the trapdoor open, gasping out her best friend's name.

"Have you heard?" Alya said excitedly, so excited that she couldn't stand still.

Marinette looked up from whatever she was doing with an amused smile on her face. "What happened now, Alya? Who has gotten married this time? Has Nino finally proposed to you?"

Her cheeks taking on a red hue, Alya squealed loudly, and a few birds startled from their positions. "The Waynes are coming to town!"

Squealing loudly again, Alya tackled Marinette into a bear hug, one the girl awkwardly returned.

"I apologise," Marinette said, her voice muffled, "But who are the Waynes?"

Alya gasped loudly, scandalised at the fact that her best friend did not know of one of the most influential—and wealthy—families ever.

"Marinette," Alya grasped her friend's shoulders tightly, "The Waynes? You do not know the Waynes?"

Marinette shrugged uncaringly. "I suppose not. I have not heard the name before."

Alya felt as though she was on the verge of fainting.

Once Alya felt Marinette knew a sufficient amount of information on the Wayne family, she set about the task she had come to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery for.

Her gaze catching on the dress Marinette had been working on, Alya felt her eyes widen at its beauty.

"Marinette," she gasped, feeling the soft silk of the dress slide through her fingers. "You should wear this dress to the ball tonight!"

Carefully prying it from Alya's hands, Marinette shook her head in firm refusal. "No. I refuse."

Alya smirked suddenly, and Marinette had to admit, it didn't look very out of place on her.

"Do you want to know what Rose told Juleka who told Mylene who told me?" She asked, whispering conspiratorially.

Marinette looked at Alya with mild concern. "Even if I do refuse, I doubt that you will listen to me."

Grinning at her, Alya clapped her hands. "Adrien Agreste is coming to the ball and rumour has it that he'll be bringing the Waynes with him!"

Turning her back to Alya to hide the sudden onslaught of red on her cheeks, Marinette hung her dress on her mannequin, rethinking Alya's offer.

"So," Alya elongated the word, asking a silent question.

Marinette sighed, already caving in. "Fine. But only because I want to wear the dress."

Smirking again, Alya shrugged casually. "Of course Mari, whatever makes you feel better."