The Double Face of the Designer's Son

Chapter 3.

Marinette was exhausted. She had gotten up particularly early that morning to decorate a special-order cake for Manon's 12th birthday. She had used every ounce of her design talent in putting the bows, polka dots, glitter, and sugar roses on the extravagant cake. Nadja had come in to pick up the cake, thanking her profusely and asking her to give regards to her parents. This had almost made the hours of labor worth it, as had the adequate pay, but Marinette wished her parents had helped her out a bit with the morning shift in the bakery.

A particularly strange customer had come into the shop this morning, ordering just one croissant. She had been dressed in a navy skirt suit and had the most familiar eyes. Thankfully, she didn't seem to want to talk much - all business, as Marinette had expected. She would commit the new face to memory and try to discover the name that went with it later when she was less exhausted.

She would never tire of seeing happy faces, but there was one she wished would be among the crowd. Marinette hadn't seen Adrien since she left to study for a year in Venice. She'd heard from Alya that he had left for America. Marinette would've thought that he would return to Paris for his father's funeral, but she had yet to see him or even hear whispers of his passing. In fact, the bakery gossip had lead her to think that Adrien had stayed in America purposefully during his father's funeral. The only problem with this was that she passed by the old house on her nightly patrol as Ladybug, there was always a light on in the windows. Thinking of Ladybug reminded her that she hadn't seen Cat Noir for about as long as Adrien.

Cat Noir had gone missing years ago. Nobody was sure who he was, but he was either dead or gone and nobody was sure which. Since then, Marinette had felt a gap at her side every time she ended a fight. She'd offer her fist, look to her side, and see no one next to her to make a pun or wink at her. Now, though, Hawkmoth hadn't attacked since Gabriel Agreste's death. She considered that when the public funeral was held, he would find the perfect opportunity to attack many at once. This was the only reason she'd be attending the service.

"Good morning, Marinette," her father said, coming down the stairs. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, Dad." He yawned and turned on the coffee machine.

"Have we had any customers this morning?"

"Dad, it's 9:30. Of course we've had customers."

"What?! Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It wasn't that many customers. I handled it, don't worry," Marinette said. "We did have one new customer, though. She was about my age, in a skirt suit and she just got one croissant."

"Hmm. Did you catch a name?"

"Not today. She wasn't too eager to talk," Marinette sighed. Her father chuckled.

"Sounds like that lady that used to follow your friend Adrien," he remarked.

"That's who she reminds me of. Nathalie; she was Mr. Agreste's assistant. Oh," said Marinette. She smacked her forehead. "I really am tired."

"Go up and take a nap, Marinette. I can handle things for now," her father said. She yawned. "After all, your big interview is later."

"That's TODAY?!" Marinette gasped. "I really do need a nap..."

-

Marinette walked into the bakery with an exhausted look on her face. Her parents turned toward the ringing doorbell.

"How did it go, dear?" Marinette's mother asked, brushing her flour-coated hands on her apron.

"Horrible," groaned Marinette, trudging up the stairs. She slammed the trap door leading to her room. "And I don't feel like talking about it!" She yelled to the approaching quiet footsteps. Marinette flopped on her bed. "What do I do, Tikki? I don't have a job, I barely have a social life..."

"Do you feel like yourself? You're not acting normal," the kwami asked. Marinette took her hair down and shook her head back and forth.

"I don't feel like myself. I feel like I need to be Ladybug, but I can't. There's no reason to transform."

"Oh, Marinette, you are Ladybug! You just need to channel her from inside you. You don't need a suit to let your true self shine." Marinette offered a tired smile. She pulled a cookie out of her pocket and offered it to the kwami.

"I did get this. Revenge on a major fashion label, achieved through a cookie." Marinette grinned as her kwami munched the snack. She got up to look at her computer. The local news was still talking about the death of Gabriel Agreste. Apparently, nobody had heard from Adrien Agreste or at least didn't feel like telling Nadja Chamack about it. Marinette sighed. As much as she wished to see Adrien again, she knew she wouldn't. The fact was that they were from very separate social brackets. She considered, regardless, the possibility of just knocking on the gate of the Agreste mansion. Maybe bring along a gift of pastries. Perhaps even his favorite food, the macaron. Marinette had to pull her head out of the clouds to recover from these irrational daydreams. It seemed this was becoming an increasingly persistent issue with the young woman. She would feel happy with the daydreams, and then eventually she'd wake back into her lonely reality. She sighed. It may be time to let her fantasies go... but she couldn't. Not after all these years. If only she could find someone else... but there would never be another like Adrien. Marinette gasped slightly as she felt her heart sink.

"No, no, no! Snap out of it!" Marinette said to herself, out loud. "If I can't calm down, I could get akumatized, and we all know how badly that could wind up." She took a deep breath. "I just have to do what you said, Tikki. Channel my inner Ladybug."