The Rise to Fame (Adrinette)

1 (REWROTE EVERYTHING)

The clatter of silverware and the low hum of chatter surrounded me, blending into the familiar sounds of the local diner. I glanced out the window, watching the rain lightly patter against the glass, the neon sign casting its usual pink glow over the street. The place was packed tonight, like every other evening, and I was rushing between tables, trying to keep up. It wasn't the glamorous life I dreamed of, but it paid the bills—for now.

"Table five wants an order of salad!" someone shouted from the kitchen, yanking me from my daydream.

"Got it!" I called back, wiping my hands on my apron before grabbing the plate. This isn't forever, I reminded myself for what felt like the millionth time today. The diner was just a pit stop until I could make my dream of becoming a fashion designer a reality. I'd been sketching designs since I could hold a pencil, and one day, they wouldn't just be doodles in my notebook—they'd be on runways.]

I sighed, balancing the salad in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other. My parents had always been supportive, but even they were starting to worry. "Maybe you should look into something more...stable," my mom had said last week. Stable? I didn't want stable. I wanted exciting, bold, and extraordinary—fashion wasn't just about clothes, it was a way to express who you were, and I had so much I wanted to say.

As I placed the salad down at table five, I noticed the customer. He had tousled blonde hair and the brightest green eyes I'd ever seen. For a second, I just stared. And when he smiled—no, smirked—I felt my face heat up. Great. Way to be professional, Marinette.

"Here's your meal, sir," I stammered, feeling completely ridiculous. Why am I nervous? I serve people all day long!

"Thanks... or should I say, stuttering girl?" he said with a teasing grin.

Oh no. My heart jumped into my throat, and I stood there awkwardly, probably looking like I was malfunctioning. "Y-Yeah, I guess," I muttered before quickly walking away. Ugh, what is wrong with me? Cute guy shows up, and suddenly I forget how to form sentences? I snuck one last glance over my shoulder at him, but he was already looking back at me. Our eyes met, and I swore I saw a glint of amusement there.

"See you around," he winked, and I practically stumbled into the kitchen.

"Alya!" I whisper-shouted the second I was behind the counter. Alya, my best friend and coworker, raised an eyebrow, pausing her lipstick application.

"What now?"

"There's a guy out there!" I whispered frantically.

"Marinette, there are like thirty guys out there," she said, deadpan.

"No, no, a guy. Like, cute, blonde, green eyes, just talked to me and I—I froze! I couldn't even say a normal sentence!"

"Oooooh," Alya smirked, suddenly interested, "sounds like someone's got the hots for Mr. Handsome."

"No way! I just... I don't know. I've never seen him before, and he winked at me! Who even winks anymore?"

"Girl, with your looks, I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner," Alya said, giving me a playful nudge. "But let's be real, it's been forever since you've dated. Maybe this is your sign from the universe to start putting yourself out there again."

I rolled my eyes, trying to push the encounter out of my mind. "Yeah, well, I don't have time for guys. I've got designs to work on, and I haven't even finished my latest collection for my portfolio. I'm not gonna get anywhere if I'm distracted by...by guys."

Alya leaned in, resting her chin on her hand. "Honey, you're twenty-three. You deserve a little fun. Maybe even a date?"

I sighed. Alya meant well. She always did. But dating wasn't exactly on my radar, especially after how my last date went. "I just... I don't know, Alya. I'm not sure I'm ready."