You're my dearest lie || Miraculous Adult

Chapter 44

Any other name - Thomas Newman

Adrien

My philosophy teacher had always said that every life was like a miracle. Life was the greatest gift any living being could receive.

Sometimes I wondered if it would be better if I was still swimming around in my father's balls.

And if I didn't want to endure my whole life in his body, then at least I would die happily somewhere in a used condom.

I would have no needs, no expectations to fulfill, and I wouldn't have to pretend everything was okay.

Any emotion from me was neither accepted nor considered. So I carried on as before.

Continuing my life as a puppet.

This time without mom. Without Marinette. And without hope.

But that was okay as soon as I saw my life from a different perspective.

It was the purest comedy show.

"Time's up," a smoky, scratchy voice brought me back into this swanky classroom with velvet curtains and stucco decorations.

Lost in thought, I looked at my sheets of paper, on which I hadn't written anything for an hour.

"Mr. Agreste, please come forward and hand in your exam. Perhaps your butler is responsible for this at home, but things are different at our elite lycée."

Without making a face, I complied with the teacher's request, whose name I had forgotten, and handed him the papers.

About time. I'd been bored in here for ages.

After several preparatory courses from professors that Nathalie had arranged for me, I was programmed to get top marks.

It was impossible for me not to get full marks, even if I didn't concentrate.

The middle-aged man looked at me skeptically through his much too small glasses, perhaps because he felt threatened in his competence as a French teacher.

I don't know. I don't care.

At least I could be glad that the gorilla wasn't sitting at the table next to me in the classroom. The teacher had already made sure of that. All the other students were so stressed and preoccupied with themselves that they didn't really pay any attention to me this time. Which was quite pleasant.

My chauffeur was waiting for me in the large hall like a proud mother, as if he was picking me up from kindergarten. No, he didn't look proud. He stood at attention like a soldier and looked as grim as ever.

The only difference was that a lot more worry lines had formed between his bushy eyebrows, which had to do with Nathalie's still unstable condition in the intensive care unit. It had been three weeks since Nathalie's collapse. My chauffeur had expressly advised me not to visit her as I needed to concentrate on my A-levels. I didn't know whether he had noticed my flashback to Nathalie's breakdown.

But the fact that my father still hadn't contacted us or finished his business trip was just a joke.

I'd be lucky if he came to my report card ceremony, where I'd just be picking up my diploma anyway, and while everyone else was celebrating, I'd have to sit at home.

I snorted with a grin.

Parties. What exactly was that again? And shouldn't I have learned the extent of them at my last one?