Set to Love

Chapter 7

"Miss Dupain-Cheng," Adrien called as she entered the executive lounge. He sat at a table, dressed differently from his on-set attire: a plaid blazer and pants with a dull red shirt, sipping espresso and reading a local newspaper.

A local newspaper? He speaks Mandarin?

"M. Agreste," Marinette greeted, forcing a smile as she sat opposite him. "How are you?" she asked nervously. He wasn't going to fire her , right? Not over a silly storyboard misunderstanding, or spilling water on his knee, or getting red food dye on the floor (the latter she hadn't done, but he thought she did).

Who was she kidding? Why else would he call her here at seven o'clock at night?

Adrien looked up, meeting her eyes. "Let's skip the formalities," he began. Great.

"This is the first film project the Agreste brand has agreed to fund. If it does not meet expectations, it will be the last. I will not allow any mishaps, Miss Dupain-Cheng. If we can't fix your attitude, I won't hesitate to let you go."

"My attitude?" Marinette questioned, trying to keep her cool. "Could you please elaborate, M. Agreste?" Her smile tightened. Don't lose your cool, Marinette! As cool as a cucumber.

"I've spoken to Aimée about you, and she seems fond of you. While I respect her judgment, you don't appear the same way to me. Why is there this discrepancy?"

"I'm not quite sure how to answer that," Marinette responded. " As Aimée has said, I'm okay at my job, but I'm still new and learning..."

Adrien raised a hand to stop her. "You've worked in the fashion industry before, doing product photos, campaigns, and the like, which isn't dissimilar to being on a film set. I expected you to adjust more quickly."

"It's just the first day of shooting—" careful , Marinette! "Is this just about the red food dye? We got it out of the carpet after you left," she explained. She had been on her hands and knees scrubbing for hours while Chloé watched, giving her major déjà vu. Some people never change.

"I prefer to cut off unproductive relationships quickly," he said coldly, continuing to read his newspaper without even a glance at her.

Marinette felt her blood boil red at that. How disrespectful! He could not get away with treating people like that.

Marinette had three principal qualities:

She was stubborn.She hated liars.She had an unwavering sense of justice.

And this time, the last one could be her undoing.

Why is Adrien Agreste so insufferable?

Now she was letting the pot boil over, allowing the floodgates of rage to open wide. All attempts of cooling down vanished as she stood at the fiery gates of hell.

If only she had a more reliable filter to at the very least sugarcoat her words.

"Unproductive? M. Agreste, I have done everything asked of me. Sure, I made a mistake by suggesting a change to the storyboard without understanding the script, but the art department agreed with it. You were the one who took personal offence to the feedback. An outside perspective is valuable, but you ignored it and berated me. And now, over an easy mistake of spilling food dye, you're trying to berate me again. It's like you conveniently didn't see all the work me and team put into the props and set today. Wait no, you weren't there. What kind of 'auteur' misses the first shoot?"

Adrien looked up, dumbfounded, clearly trying to formulate a response. Marinette didn't care as she continued, "Or is it the water spillage on the plane you're upset about? If so, it's time to separate your personal and work life, Agreste."

She felt the fire spit out of her mouth and the urge to leave. He wasn't responding; why waste energy on scolding a wall?

"Miss Dupain-Cheng," he finally managed, "I—"

But her head was already outside the room as she stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked towards the door. "And you think I have an attitude issue? Look in the mirror. If anyone has an attitude problem, it's you." She reached for the handle. "Have a good night, M. Agreste."

"As do you," he mumbled, still staring at her, his confident, dominating demeanour abandoned long ago.

Marinette walked to her hotel room in a daze, still in fight mode. Once she closed the door and was alone in her hotel room, Tiki flew out of her bag.

"Marinette!" the kwami scolded.

"I did not just do that, did I?" Marinette slapped her hand on her face, her cheeks burning with shock."To Adrien Agreste! I rebuked Adrien bloody Agreste!"

"What were you thinking!"

"I don't know! I should pack my bags now. I am over! " She sank to the floor dramatically, her heart racing as the reality of her outburst hit her like a bus.

Tiki flew above her, sighing with concern. "Marinette, we need to work on that temper of yours."

Marinette groaned, her face pressed into the plush hotel carpet. "I don't know why I'm so sensitive recently. I hope this doesn't reflect badly on Nino. He's the reason I'm here, after all" she said, her voice muffled by the floor with truth, guilt and rational thought sinking her further into the ground.

"Don't worry about that for now," Tiki patted her back gently, trying to soothe her.

"Yeah, well, this will probably be the last night here," Marinette sat up, looking towards the window. Her view was stunning, with skyscrapers towering so impossibly high, casting a soft glow into the dark room. She had no doubt she'd either receive an email of dismissal by nine the next morning, or she'd be handing in a resignation letter herself by noon and go quietly— even if it meant she'd have to take a loan from her parents to pay for the flight back.

"It's a shame. We haven't even explored the city yet," Tiki joined her with antennae drooping with disappointment.

She turned to her kwami , an impulsive idea escaping her mouth. "Could we go out then?"

"Like, as Ladybug?"

Marinette cupped Tiki with her hands, a genuine smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, we might as well look around before we leave. What do you say?"

"If you could pick up some Lotus root with Syrup or Tanghulu. I haven't had them in centuries!" Tiki grinned in anticipation, her eyes gleaming.

"Sure thing" Marinette laughed, feeling a bit of her tension melt away.

With a determined nod, Marinette called on her transformation, feeling the familiar rush of power as her suit enveloped her. She slid through the hatch in the hotel window and zipped off into the streets below, the city unfolding before her.

This gig might be over, but there's nothing the cold night breeze couldn't fix , right?