Masquerade Ballet

Eight

A/N: I'm back! *staying alive playing the background* Sorry it took me so long! I swear I didn't forget about you. I'm still here. I'm still writing. (Or at least trying.) Here is Chapter Eight; I hope you all enjoy it. It's shorter than I would've liked, but I really wanted to get this out to you guys. Enjoy!

The following day I had rehearsal, as always. As I mounted the stairs to the opera house, I clutched Adrien's jacket tightly. I was still working out what I was going to say, but nothing I said seemed to be... casual enough. "Hi, Adrien! My best friend's boyfriend, Nino, saw that I was cold and gave me your amazing jacket. It smells really good, by the way. Here you go!" No. "Here's your jacket! Thanks for letting me borrow it!" Nope. "I considering keeping it, but here's your jacket back." Definitely not. 

I was rehearsing what I was going to say under my breath when I bumped into someone. "Sorry!" I apologized, looking up. 

"Marinette, isn't it?" Chlóe spat, brushing invisible specks of dirt off her rhinestones leotard. 

"Y-Yeah," I stammered, feeling my palms sweat. This wasn't good. Running into Chlóe was like accidentally summoning a demon when you we're trying to make dinner. Both parties are equally confused, and the being from the Satan pit is usually very angry. 

"Oh. My. God," she sighed, narrowing her eyes at me. "You're just trying to make my life miserable, aren't you?" 

"Of course not! I'm just--" 

"Terrible at dancing? Yeah, I know. Well I know who is definitely not Ladybug," she laughed. Angry tears began to well up in my eyes, but I blinked furiously trying to dismiss them. I pushed past her quickly, swiping under my eyes, feeling my fingers come away wet. I couldn't be crying now. Ladybug didn't cry. 

Setting down my things and tying on my pointe shoes quickly, I rolled out my feet in silence. The other students were happily chatting about this and that, anything from costumes to being sore today. The lump in my throat kept me from speaking, so I kept my mouth shut and eyes averted. Chlóe's words were reverberating in my head. I knew that they were wrong; I had been chosen for a reason. But I couldn't help but feel inadequate. I wasn't right for Ladybug. I was right for ensemble, in the back, where I could be hidden. 

Sniffing, I shuffled away, knowing I had fifteen minutes until class began. I wanted to see Tikki before I had to stand at the barrè. I knocked on the door to the sewing room, and it was opened quickly, the red headed seamstress sticking her head out. 

"Marinette!" she chirped, throwing open the door. "How are you?" 

"Okay." She gave me a look. "I... one of the girls made me wonder... why was I chosen to be Ladybug?" 

"Easy," she began, sweeping around the room and tossing fabric here and there. "You are a beautiful dancer. But more than that, you are kind. You may think that we don't see how you treat the techies and all the teachers. We see how you address the children in your classes and the parents of the students here. Ladybugs is more than just a role; Ladybug is a character who has to have an equally kind and talented dancer behind her." 

"Thank you, Tikki. I have to get to class, I'll see you later for costume fittings." She nodded and waved. I gave her a small smile, trying to convince myself that she was right. 

"I'll see you later!" 

As I rushed back to class, my pointe shoes clunked heavily against the wooden floor, echoing down the empty hallway. I felt a little better after talking to Tikki, but a few doubts still nested in my mind. As I skidded into class, Chlóe cast me a snide look. I glared back at her, then took my place at the barré. I would not let her get to me. Not today. 

After barré, we all gathered in the center of the floor for partner work. Mme. Gertrude said that our pairing didn't actually mean anything, it was only to practice, so you could probably imagine my surprise when she paired me with Adrien. My tongue suddenly fell limp in my mouth and my heart began to pound. I was not going to have a crush on Adrien. That was not in the plan. I didn't want to like him, I just wanted to be his friend. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He walked over with an absolutely ridiculous grin on his face and I felt like slapping myself. I. Did. Not. Like. Him. 

"Y-You're not drop meing, right?" That came out wrong. "S-Sorry," I stammered. "I meant you aren't going to drop me, right?" 

"Of course not! At least not on purpose." Mme. Gertrude shot us a look. 

"That's n-not very reassur-suring," I whispered.

He rolled his eyes at me, then watched began listening intently. "So we're going to start with a promenod, then a triple turn, and then a fish dive, right?" He glanced over at me for confirmation, and I gave him a thumbs up. Adrien stepped back as I rose to relevée in arabesque. Taking my hand, he led me in a slow circle, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the first time we had done this step together. I knew the notion was impossible, so I quickly dismissed the thought. Maybe we were just good partners. I pliéd, then brought my foot to a passé, feeling Adrien's hands grip my waist as I whipped around in a triple turn. I came to a stop, extended my leg back to arabesque, then breathed as Adrien came behind me, wrapping an arm around the base of my ribcage and his other arm around my thigh. He dipped me down, then set me back on pointe, successfully ending the combination. 

When I looked up, the entire class was slack-jawed, and Chlóe looked like she was going to murder me. I felt my cheeks flame, and I stole a glance at Adrien in the mirror to see that he was flushed scarlet too. 

"Exquisite, you two," Mme. Gertrude praised, pressing her shoulders down. "That is the kind of chemistry and artistry we are looking for, ladies and gentlemen. Do try and master it." 

Chemistry? Adrien and I had chemistry? I couldn't even talk to him without stammering and the thought of giving him his jacket back made me turn as red as a tomato. 

"Marinette?" Adrienne asked, instantly bringing me back to reality. 

"Hmm?" 

"You wanna try again?" 

"Yeah, sure," I responded, trying to sound nonchalant. 

I could partner with him and make the entire class stop and stare, but I couldn't return a jacket. Go figure.