𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞. | 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧.

3 | Fizzbuzz

Adrien's P.O.V

I beamed at him, delighted that he agreed with me.

"Oh! I have my cell phone. Maybe we can call someone," Luka remembered.

"Why didn't I think of that?" I mused, wondering why the thought had never occurred to me.

He shook his head and laugh yet again. He sure laughed a lot. I was beginning to wonder why. He took out his phone and seemed to be wondering who to call when I realised that I should probably do the same.

Just as I was about to call Nathalie, Luka let out a frustrated groan.

"What is it?" I asked.

"There's no cell service here. I haven't even got a single bar," he explained, not in the slightest agitated.

"...No service at all? I'm dead," I said, "I have to be dead. I can't live like this."

"What, with no service you mean?" asked Luka, "I'm sure you'll survive, Adrien. Besides, you have me."

"Oh well, I'll have to make do," I huffed.

He laughed again and ran his hand through his hair.

A moment of silence ran between us before Luka ran his hand through his hair again.

"Do you need a comb?" I said brightly, figuring he felt the need to comb his hair like I sometimes did.

"...Wait, you have one with you?"

"Always," I told him flippantly.

He chuckled and replied, "No, that's fine. But I don't think we're getting out of here tonight."

Okay, that made me worry. If my father had been sent my grades, and I didn't go home that day, how would  that look? My father, not knowing me well, would probably think I ran away, even though I never would.

"Wait, I can try using data and see if I can call anybody on WhatsApp," I suddenly remembered, pulling out my phone and turning on my data.

Unfortunately, you still needed signal, even to place a Wi-Fi call. Suddenly, a Twitter alert came on my phone. I promise you, you will not believe what I saw next. I made the sound of a half scoff half laugh of disbelief, making Luka lean over to peer at my phone screen. I tilted it to the side so he could see it better.

Young Adrien Agreste, aged 16, seems to have gone missing. After he didn't return home for hours after what his friends dubbed as 'Report Card Day', his father began to get worried (I scoffed at that one) and called all his friends who each said they'd seen Adrien leave their class but hadn't seen anything else (I knew it was probably Nathalie that called them).

ᴘᴀʀɪs' ᴍᴏsᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟ ɪs ᴍɪssɪɴɢ!

Please call 05467234521 * if you find him.

I laughed at that one. It was hilarious! I'd even made the papers; and the Twitter post had 1M+ views and 40K+ reposts. How would they feel, knowing that in actual fact, I was sat on my school bathroom floor with a blue haired boy, answering questions about radioactive rats that want to take over Paris?

Luka's eyebrows crease.

"Maybe you should tweet that you're alive and safe. It isn't really fair to make them worry like this, especially when they're all looking for you," he stated.

I considered it for a while. I would have. I really would have. But, deep down, maybe, just maybe, I wanted to make my father suffer, make him feel pain, and make him feel that worry. Just for a little while.

"I could but it's fun watching," I responded instead. He didn't say anything but I could see that small look of disappointment concealed behind his ridiculously long eyelashes. They suited him so well.

"That's your choice I guess."

Silence. A drip of water splashing into the sink. Not much else was said.

"I'm not usually this cruel," I blurted out.

He raised his eyebrow, as if he wanted me to say more.

"I mean it. If this was a normal day I would have jumped at the chance to let everyone know I was okay. I promise," I rushed to say.

"So what's different this time?" he asked, like he was generally intrigued.

"The thing is, if I let people know where I was now, we would get let out of here. If we get let out of here, I have to go home. If I go home, my father will forbid be to go to school the next day, because of my results. I know it. I just want one more day of school."

"You don't have to tell them where we are, or even that you're with another person. Just tell them you're safe," he reasoned.

I guess I couldn't see the fault in that plan.

Awww, thanks for your concern, guys. I can assure you that I am alive and well. ❤️ :)

After that, I turned my phone off, not wanting to see how viral my single comment would go. I turned to face Luka.

"Let's play 'Fizz Buzz'," I said.

"Fizz Buzz? What's that?" he asked, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"It's pretty simple. We just count, and when we get to a number that's a multiple of three, we say 'fizz' instead of that number. If we get to a multiple of five, we say 'buzz'. If it's a multiple of three or five, we say 'fizz buzz'. If one of us forgets to say fizz or buzz we lose. D'you get it?"

He nodded.

"I'll start," I said. "One."

"Two."

"Fizz."

"Four," he replied.

"Buzz," I said.

"Fizz," he said.

"Seven."

"Eight."

"Fizz,"

"Buzz."

"Eleven," I said.

"Fizz," he responded.

"Thirteen," I countered.

"Fourteen," he stated.

"Fifteen— Wait—"

"Fizzbuzz," we said at the same time.

"You lost," he said in an amused yet triumphant tone.

"Yes! But I will win this next round," I declared with absolute sureness.

And all throughout the afternoon we were shouting and screaming 'fizz!' or 'buzz!' at the top of our voices, trying to get the other to back down. And the time ended with finality when we got to three hundred and said, "FIZZBUZZ."

And burst into laughter at exactly the same time. It was around 10pm, that time, because Luka and I were both slow counters and we had made a lot of mistakes.

By the time I fell asleep, my head was in Luka's lap and his hands were planted securely in my hair.

I think that was the best I'd ever slept in my life.

(*Small A/N: please for the love of mother Mary don't call this number. It doesn't actually belong to the Agreste household and you might encounter like a psychopath instead.)