From: Nathalie
[09:00 PM] Adrien, your father has scheduled a slot for you at dinner 7:30 PM tomorrow. Please make sure you arrive promptly. In the interim, you are not to speak to Mademoiselle Rossi again or invite her to the house for any reason. I’ll see you in the morning.
.
From: Nino
[09:30 PM] holy shit bro check your messages, alya’s on the warpath
[09:31 PM] I’m f-ing serious do it, your fake date is gonna die
[09:35 PM] some seriously ugly shit is going down in the class chat
[10:00 PM] are you seriously asleep already?? are you an eighty yr old man in a fifteen yr old body?? get to school early so we can talk before class ok???
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From: Alya
[09: 31 PM] Adrien Agreste, call me as soon as you get home. I need to talk to you about this Ladybug footage
[09: 40 PM] have you heard from Mari at all?? she’s not answering my texts. I called her house earlier but her mom said she was out
[09: 43 PM] do you know where she is? call me asap if she texts you.
[09:48 PM] I really, really have to talk to her ok?
.
From: Alya
[09:53 PM] don’t ignore me, Agreste. answer your damn phone.
[09:54 PM] Please fucking tell me you didn’t know about this?? did you KNOW that lila rossi was lying to me??
.
From: Alya
[10:10 PM] CALL ME, ADRIEN or her blood will be on YOUR HANDS
Blissfully alone in his cavernous room, Adrien fished his phone from his jacket pocket and fell into the comfort of his empty bed, navigating to the Ladyblog and opening its newest update.
His lady’s face filled the backlit screen, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Bonsoir, Paris! It’s Ladybug, checking in live from Paris Fashion Week. I had the privilege of attending tonight’s gala on kind invitation of Mayor André Bourgeois, who is also hosting the rest of this week’s events. Sadly, Chat Noir couldn’t make it, but he sends his love to all our friends and fans.”
Her voice was so clear she could have been in the room with him, not a speck of quality lost to the constraints of their magical tech. Adrien rearranged the covers around his chest, propping the phone up against his pillow and resisting the urge to let his eyes drift shut.
“I believe his exact words were—” Ladybug snorted. “It pains me to turn down the invite, Paris, but you’ll have to make do with my lady’s sparkling presence. As much as I wish I could be present to whisker off her feet, I have a prior commitment that can’t be de-furred. Stay claws-y, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Ugh, that last one doesn’t even work.”
“Plagg, she remembered,” he whispered. “She said the whole thing on cam! She didn’t even take out the puns.”
His kwami’s only response was a yawn. Extracting himself from Adrien’s discarded blazer, he phased inside the nightstand drawer and emerged with a half-eaten wheel of cheese.
“Honestly, kid, you are so easy to please. I’d tell you to work on it, but I’d be doing myself a disservice, because it’s at least sixty percent of what makes you so fun to screw with.”
“A few of you had questions about my outfit,” Ladybug continued, widening the shot to show off the decorative details of her gown. “I’m still transformed beneath it, but it’s a real dress! Custom created by Marinette Dupain-Cheng, whose work was worn by Adrien Agreste in Gabriel’s autumn-winter showcase. Shout out to Adrien for approaching me tonight! It was an absolute pleasure talking to you.”
