So here's the problem.
I'm an aspiring songwriter.
So here's the problem.
I want to write about love.
So here's the problem.
I've never been in love.
I've never suffered through heartbreak.
I've never had my first kiss.
And honestly, that's pretty humiliated to admit for someone about to graduate high school.
So that's the problem.
I played the piano, I played the guitar (not that well), I play the ukulele.
But I did not participate in the playing the game of love.
Although, that day was the day that...
Just joking, nothing happened.
What am I? A cliche?
~~~
Walking through the giant doors of the school (strange how that have that but no art funds) I can already hear people whispering my name.
Adrien this, and Adrien that.
It's not as glorious as it might seem.
Suddenly, I heard a loud voice from behind "You know what would be really funny". It was obviously a girl, a very exuberant girl.
A deeper voice answered back, "every time you start with that phrase I end up regretting our friendship"
"What if, before babies were born, they'd sing-" and then she began to sing in a very off tune voice "I wANnA bE whERe tHE PEoPle arE"
"Speak again and I will slap that smirk off your-"
And then I began to laugh.
I clutched my stomach and giggled for longer than I should have.
People began to whisper more.
"He thinks I'm funny," she says, pointing out the obvious.
"That's because he doesn't have to deal with your nonsense everyday," the other boy said indignantly.
I cough awkwardly, before escaping to my class.
That was the first time I heard her voice.
Her really bad singing voice.
~~~
Watching romance movies didn't mean you knew the feeling of love.
Trust me, I've tried.
This is me, slouched in my bed with an almost empty oreo box watching Cinderella for the ninth time. The movie doesn't actually portray love realistically. At all. Though, if I need to learn how to ballroom dance to fall in love, I might as well be a cat lady forever.
I close my laptop and begin to pick up my ukulele case. At four o'clock everyday I go to the Champs-Élysées and perform. I fix my blond locks in the mirror before leaving. Usually, I use the money to buy books or donate it. I don't really need the extra cash, I just like to perform.
I've never performed original pieces though. It's easy for people to steal it that way...Or judge me mercilessly.
When I get there, I see a girl with two pigtails waiting in front of my spot. She's there every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. It's not like I remember everyone's schedule, I just know her because there's something distinctly strange about her.
It was her eyes.
They were a type of blue that looked like a section of water hit by the sun. Sparkling and lighter than the rest of the ocean. It was weird. Almost glassy. In fact, it kind of creeped me out.
"Good evening Adrien," she says. This is the first time she's ever talked to him
"It's not evening yet" I respond. I'm kind of surprised that she knows my name because I have no idea who she is.
"You seem to think my joke was funny this afternoon," she said, more people began to crowd around. He saw many familiar faces, people that come often to see him perform. Like the annoying girls at school.
"What...Oh, you mean this morning?" I start feeling anxious because people are coming and this girl is making me make them wait.
"Time is just an illusion that humans made"
"...Um...Okay"
And then everything else went as usual. I sang some songs from my favorite musical like Freeze your brain If I could tell her. Then, I sang some songs with my ukulele and that was it. I don't really know why people come everyday because I repeat a lot of my songs.
When people started to disperse, it got weird again. But, that was just because the glassy-eyed girl didn't leave. I started to drink from the water bottle beside me, it's survival methods so people don't talk to you.
"I'm gonna make you fall in love with me"
And then I sprayed it out like a fucking hose.
Author's Note:
Honestly, I have no idea where this fic is going.
I just wanted an excuse to write a shy Adrien Agreste.
Help me...
It's probably not professional to ask readers to help me write.Welp, I'm doomed.
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Sweaters in the Summer
FanfictionAdrien Agreste is a shy and awkward songwriter (which his father thought he would've grown out of) while Marinette is strange, wild and a complete mystery to him. They're both eighteen, with only a few months before graduating. Can Marinette make Ad...