The Situationship

Pull Me From That Pedestal

Marinette closed the door to her apartment and headed down the staircase, out into the sea of Paris' midmorning crowds. Where usually on a Saturday morning she would be heading off to help her Maman and Papa at the bakery, today was going to be a little different.

After speaking to Adrien on Thursday and being invited to a movie premiere of some sort, she decided to take another leap, to go and have a makeover — gifted by none other than Adrien himself. Things like this were never high on her priority list. If anything they moved lower and lower by the day. If her hair needed doing, she'd get a quick cut and carry on with her day. Her nails were short and broken, and her makeup... What makeup?

She'd mentioned to Adrien, in joking terms of course, that she would be the troll on the red carpet. But the statement seemed to send Adrien straight on a mission: Get Marinette ready. He'd made appointments with a couple of his old artist friends in Paris, booking Marinette in for the whole shebang. From hair to makeup, Adrien had booked her a day of rest and relaxation at one of Paris' top salons. Obviously he wasn't overly happy with a troll appearing on the red carpet either. He'd even gone as far as offering a stylist to come and help her, but one thing was for certain, she'd got that covered.

The last day and night had been awkward to say the least. Between conversations with an invisible Chat Noir, and trying to locate Su Han, she was teetering on the edge of insanity. She still wasn't sure whether she was hallucinating or her partner was actually there.

After searching high and low, it became apparent the master was nowhere to be seen. She'd looked in the normal place (the Chinese medicine store Master Fu kept) and also any other of the Guardian's hang outs, each venue coming up empty. She'd sent Tikki out and nothing.

So, she was stuck. No help, no guidance and an over-enthusiastic partner. Along with scouring the obituaries for anyone who could resemble a young Chat Noir (and unless he was a 65-year-old called Rick, she was clearly out of luck), they spent an abundance of time trying to figure out some plan for an Akuma.

Her partner walked beside her as they made their way in the direction of the salon, walking through people as he went. "I can't believe you're letting this guy tell you you're not pretty enough."

Reaching into her pocket, Marinette messed around on her phone before putting it to her ear and continuing the conversation with Chat Noir. "He hasn't said I'm not pretty enough. He just gave me an option if I wanted to get ready for tonight, and I do. A change could be good for me."

Chat Noir snorted, his step remaining in sync with hers as they glided down the sidewalk. "You don't need to change, M'Lady, you're perfect as you are."

She shook her head, turning left and dodging a crowd of tourists in yellow t-shirts. "Kitty, you only know me as my alter ego. You have no idea what this side of me is like. I'm not..." She looked around and lowered her voice to speak. "I'm not Ladybug when I'm in summer dresses and converse."

"Well, from what I've seen, you're just as cool."

She stopped, turning her attention to look at him (which thankfully meant she was looking out over the river). "You don't know me. You know a part of me. I'm boring, and normal. You have this idea in your head and believe that I'm this person who will stand up for what's right and can fight crime, when really it's lucky if I make it through the day without making a colossal idiot out of myself. I'm not the same girl you dated back when we were teens. Then, I had aspirations and I was doing it, I was making something of myself. But then it all went wrong. I couldn't cope with it, and I came back to Paris. I settled for the first job which came up in the career I was interested in and I've coasted along ever since. It was as though someone had turned the world against me. There was no dream job, no want to push harder and... Never mind."