Chat Noir is the king of the Paris Underground. Unbeaten, he dominates every dancer who challenges him. Adrien finds freedom in the rhythm and loves escaping his everyday life as a ballet prodigy at his dad's dance academy and fleeing to the Paris...
I sighed. "You got this!" Alya cried. I gave her a small simile. I was standing in the middle of classroom three in the Agrest School of Ballet.
It was a typical dance studio, mirrors lined the walls and there were benches on one side of the classroom, cluttered with duffle bags owned by the students now standing in front of me.
I was about to perform the routine I prepared. Every student was required to create a routine and perform it by themselves in front of the class. I prepared myself as the music began to flow from the speakers in the corner of the classroom.
I straightened my back and started. It was an easy routine, and I made my way through it with only a little difficulty.
As the music started to fade away, I got ready for my final move. I spun fast on my toe, going round and round. Suddenly I lost balance and fell to the floor.
Cruel laughter filled my ears. I looked up to see Chloe laughing at me. No surprise there. Alya quickly rushed over to help me up.
"Quiet down, class." Mrs.Bustier said, "Marinette, nice job. All you need to work on is balance and posture."
She looked down at the clipboard she was holding. "Rose, you're next."
Alya and I walked back to where the class was standing. I felt my face go red, but I was determined to not let Chloe get to me.
I knew Mrs.Bustier was being nice, though. I was the worst dancer in the class, barely holding on to enrollment.
~~Adrien P.O.V~~
I opened my locker door. A crowd of people talked around me, filling the hall with the buzz of conversation. Most of them were talking about today's class.
"Did you see Marinette fall?" I picked up on the conversation happening at the locker next to me as I put away my dance things and packed up for the day.
"Yeah, it was a hard fall." I vaguely wondered what happened to Marinette before slinging my duffle over my shoulder and heading for the exit. My mind was occupied by the thoughts of freedom. Thoughts of the underground.
I hopped into the white limo waiting for me outside and headed for home. As we drove, I thought about the underground. Ever since I had discovered it, my life had changed.
Before, I had done fencing, ballet, language tutoring, and so much more. Since then I had convinced my father, (with difficulty) to let me cancel all activities other than ballet.
I now spent every spare moment in the underground, dancing. And I loved it. The limbo came to a halt and I got out and headed for my room, saying hi to Natalie on my way.
I opened the door to my huge room and dumped my ballet duffle in my closet, and instead of picked up a pitch black duffle. I locked my door for good measure before opening it, taking out my costume.
I wore it to escape. Escape from my father, ballet, schedules, and Adrien Agrest. When I put on the costume, I was Chat Noir. Chat Noir listened to no one, was ruthless, respected, and most importantly, was free.
I quickly put it on and looked at myself in the mirror. Looking back I saw Chat Noir with the face of Adrien.
I turned around and grabbed spray paint from the black duffle bag. It was a brand that was safe to spray on your face, which was why everyone in the underground used it. I quickly closed my eyes and sprayed the paint over my eyes in the shape of a mask.
Some people in the underground used spray paint to hide their identities because they go to places like my dad's school, where you could get into trouble for being part of the underground.
Others had personal reasons, and some just liked the look. I used spray paint so I wasn't recognized. I wanted to be someone else, and I would get into unimaginable trouble if my dad found out I was Chat Noir.
Turning back around to face the mirror, I saw Chat Noir with black paint dripping down his face. I smiled. I did a quick trick in the mirror, liking how I looked like I was born to dance.
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I zipped up the black duffle bag and stuffed it back in my closet, still thinking of the underground.
Suddenly I heard a holler from the open window. I went over and looked out to see a crowd of people running down the street.
They were all dressed in neon and dark colors, paint dripping down their faces, and sprinting down the street howling like wolves and laughing.
I smiled, I had found my people. I jumped out my window and onto the fire escape below, then onto the street, joining the crowd.
When they saw me on the street, they howled even louder. Some screamed my name. I ran with them towards the underground, smiling and joining in with the howling.
