Highschool Lovers

A stressful trip to Milan

The morning light spills through the curtains as I stand in our bedroom, cluttered with last-minute items strewn across the bed. Adrien's deep voice filters through the air as he double-checks his wardrobe for the Milan fashion show, a week-long commitment that he's been passionately preparing for. Mia, our nine-month-old daughter, is perched happily in her crib, her bright blonde hair sticking up in fluffy tufts. She's the perfect blend of me and her father, with her dazzling green eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Baby, can you grab the baby wipes?" Adrien calls out, pulling a crisp white shirt over his head.

"On it!" I reply, grabbing the wipes and a few toys that Mia might need during our travels. It's not just a fashion show; it's an adventure for our little family, and Adrien absolutely refuses to leave us in Paris. I chuckle softly; I know how much he loves showing off his little girl, and I can't blame him.

I lean over the crib, glancing at Mia, who lets out a delighted squeal as I gather her plush bunny and her favorite rattle. "Looks like someone's excited for a trip!" I say, and her tiny hands grasp at the air, reaching for the toys.

In the whirl of packing, I manage to dress Mia in a cute little outfit: a soft pink dress adorned with yellow polka dots, paired with matching booties. As I tie her hair in a small ponytail, I admire her resemblance to Adrien. She's all smiles, her laughter filling the room and momentarily drowning out my worries about the upcoming chaos.

With Mia snuggled in my arms, I help Adrien with the last-minute packing, shoving in the final accessories and outfits—everything from tailored suits to designer shoes. "Do you think they'll appreciate the statement pieces?" he asks, a hint of nervous excitement in his tone.

"Honey, you'll be the centerpiece. Just focus on Mia and me, okay?" I tease, planting a kiss on his cheek. He chuckles, and for a moment, it feels like we've snatched a glimpse of normalcy in our unpredictable life.

As we finally gather our things and step out the door, I can feel the weight of anticipation. The car ride to the airport buzzes with chatter and Mia's coos but is soon silenced by the overwhelming sight of camera flashes and shouting paparazzi. Our bodyguards create a protective barrier around us, a necessary buffer when your spouse is one of the most famous models in the industry.

"Just keep smiling, baby girl," I whisper to Mia, who is suddenly wide-eyed and fidgety at the chaos around us. As we make our way through the terminal, she begins to fuss, her small face scrunching up in distress.

"Maybe she's just overwhelmed," Adrien suggests, gently bouncing her in his arms. But it's no use—she starts wailing, a piercing cry that draws more attention, and I feel my heart sink along with my composure.

Once inside our private jet, the atmosphere mellows slightly, yet Mia's cries only seem to amplify. I pace the aisle, rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her in vain. "Please, little one, just give us a moment of peace," I plead softly, but to no avail.

Just when I feel like I might burst into tears alongside her, Mia suddenly pauses, all fussing forgotten. She pivots her attention to the gentle hum of the engine and the soft light illuminating the cabin. Curiosity overtakes her, and she starts exploring her surroundings, her hands reaching for everything within her grasp—especially my hair.

"Looks like someone found her calm," Adrien grins, and I can't help but laugh, despite being a complete mess. Mia plays with my hair, pulling at the strands and giggling with delight, her troubles replaced by newfound excitement.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, the captain's voice crackles through the speakers, announcing our descent into Milan. As the plane touches down, I find myself slumped against the plush seats, hair tousled, clothes crumpled, and laughter still ringing in my ears from Mia's antics.

"We made it," I breathe out, glancing at Adrien, who's adjusting his collar and checking his reflection in the window.

"Just another day in the life of the Agreste family," he smirks, winking at me.

As we step off the plane and into the bustling energy of Milan, I realize it doesn't matter how chaotic traveling can be. With Adrien by my side, our little Mia giggling in my arms, we're ready to embrace whatever comes next—even if it's just another whirlwind of fashion shows and paparazzi. After all, we're in it together, and that makes every mess worth it.