Chapter Text
She’s fucked .
Oh, she fucked up so bad .
Or her stupid brother is fucked.
Yeah, that's probably more plausible.
Juleka nibbled her fingernail raw as she waited for Luka to come and pick her up, the two cups of tea mocking her of the disaster that was her and Marinette’s reunion. Groaning, she petulantly kicked the legs of the table closest to her with a certain level of pent up aggression unbecoming of a top model such as she, wincing promptly when her toe made contact instead of her pricey wedges.
“What the hell am I going to do?” The way Luka’s voice had sharpened over the call was a dead giveaway. She can already see the nightmare unfolding. One mention of Marinette’s name and Juleka knows her brother is one traffic accident away from death at this very moment. She wouldn’t be surprised if she gets a call from a hospital about her brother’s trip to the emergency ward, considering he always did seem to lose all sense of self preservation whenever the noirette was involved.
Juleka frowned as she remembered the breakup. God Luka was downright pathetic during that time. She still vividly remembers how Jagged was only a few notes away from hauling Luka back to Paris just to stop him from playing love songs day and night- the tour group finding the whole thing comedic until they started losing sleep because of it. No one knows the specifics nor how it happened but one day, he just stopped. No more love songs, no more serenades, no nothing. Luka had just woken up one day, a shine of defeat on his eyes, and simply followed their daily routine with a sense of calm that worried Juleka more than the moping did.
She asked, countless times in fact, but all her brother did was shrug her off with a curt I’m fine that sounded hopelessly fake to both of their ears. She stopped asking after the seventh lie.
Things only got more confusing when Luka started getting loose lipped during a night of underaged drinking courtesy of Jagged. A string of broken I love you’s and Why can’t you just trust me spilling out from his mouth like well sung records. Jagged had asked invasive questions, questions that would normally poke at Juleka’s unknown protective streak but the gripping curiosity sadly won over, so she let Jagged continue while she made sure to be near enough to slap Luka awake should he start divulging unnecessary information.
But even drunk, Luka remained a trustworthy little shit.
I can’t tell you, Mari’s gonn get angry at me-
No don’t shout at her dad- it’s not her fault, it’s fckin Ha- nope, not tellin’.
She broke up with me but I didn’t chase her because it’ll just make her life harder-
Dating is hard when every fucking time we’re dating there’s always akuma on the fcking loose-
I love her so much it hurtssss-
Don’t get angry, I was the one who left anyways-
I blocked her so I can stop texting her all the damn time- it’s for the better Jules, let her think I’m angry, that way it’ll be easier for her to let go and have no regrets.
I know it’s unfair. Everything is unfair. If it wasn’t, I’m probably kissing that adorable smile off her face right at this very moment-
The familiar revving of a motorcycle snapped Juleka out of her thoughts, sighing deeply as Luka nearly sent himself flying when he pulled on the brakes hastily as if he wasn’t paying attention until he nearly passed her sitting by the table.
“Dumbass.” She deadpanned. Tanned fingers encased in fingerless biker gloves recklessly groped at the helmet until she was looking at her red faced brother, all sweaty and embarrassing as usual. His blue tipped hair was sticking to his forehead, the layered cuts fluffing in all directions that made her cringing in distaste. She almost wanted to lick her hand and pat the unruly spikes down.
“So?” Luka asked her after clearing his throat. Her idiot of a brother was acting as if he hadn’t nearly broken dozens of traffic protocols, leaning casually against his ride with his signature chill pose. It would've worked if he didn’t look as if the second coming of Christ had come out of his ass.
“So what?”
His blue eyes innocently fleeted about, as if looking for something.
Or someone.
“It’s been years, Luka.” She answered instead. The line of Luka’s shoulders turned rigid, his posture stiffening in a familiar, defensive way she’d grown accustomed to seeing. She narrowed her eyes when he opened his mouth. She already knows he’ll play dumb. He knows it too.
“Exactly Jules. It’s been years. I think I’ll be fine.” He relented with a defeated sigh. Normally, Juleka would simply roll her eyes, point Luka to the direction of his doom, and mutter your funeral. But her night had gone anything but normal.
Especially Marinette.
“Jules?” She bit her lip and gripped at her arms, looking like her teenage self who was scared of her own reflection and shadow. She’s scared. And confused. She wants to help Marinette. Oh how bad she does. But… Can she risk Luka? She already knows he’ll drop anything, especially with how Marinette looked as if she’s grasping at straws and strings. He’d turn around and will never look back.
Because after all these years, Marinette still comes first.
It would’ve been stupidly laughable if she hadn’t seen how Marinette reacted the moment she had heard Luka over the speaker.
Maybe this time won’t end like last time?
“Talk to me Jules, what happened?” Luka was by her side now, comforting hand gently gripping at one, slender shoulder. His eyes were sweet with worry, and she felt guilty for hesitating.
“I saw Marinette… She doesn’t look good, Luka.” And there it is. One sentence with Marinette’s name in it, and he unravels. His face pinched and she closed her eyes to avoid his questioning gaze now field with blatant worry. Already, his palm is starting to feel cold.
“W-what?” His voice even
cracked.
Juleka sent a quick prayer above, then promptly took it back because
she’s agnostic goddamnit-
“Sh-she looks so bad. She’s so thin Luka, like, skin and bones thin. I barely recognized her- I recognized her purse faster than I did her for crying out loud!” The imagery of Marinette’s frail form plagued her everytime she blinked. The raggedy clothing, the messy, uneven sway of her misshapen hair, the way how she looked so tiny with her cheekbones poking out from her pale cheeks, everything about her was appallingly painful to look at- especially when Juleka had always seen her brimming with so much life.
The grip on her shoulder tightened to the point of being painful. “Where is she?” Luka was pale and she could feel the building amount of tremors by his grip, not noticing she was doing the same.
“I-I don’t know. She ran away when you called. I tried to chase after her but god she was fast.” At least there’s something that hasn't changed, Marinette still sure knows how to make an exit when she wants to.
Juleka can see that Luka was starting to spiral from the way how his pupils shook, his breath coming out in irregular patterns as his hand went full ice. With no warning whatsoever, she slapped him right on the face.
“What the fuck was that for?!”
“You're spiralling, idiot.” The indignant flush that crossed Luka’s nose bridge would have made her chortle but all she did was glare down at him with warning shining in her eyes.
“Don’t even start Luka. I can see you’re already blaming yourself or whatever self destructive shit you always tend to pull whenever Marinette’s involved. You’ve been out of touch for nearly a damn decade- how the fuck are you, are we supposed to know what’s happening to her. And before you start shitting your pants, I think she ran away from Paris. I mentioned Alya and she looked close to fainting. So how about you pull yourself together and stop being such a moron for once?” Luka rubbed the sore spot on his chest from where she poked at him multiple times with a sharp cuticle, blinking dazedly.
“It’s getting late. We’ll start looking for her tomorrow.”
“Why not now?”
“Let her calm down. With how wound up she is, showing up at her doorstep might give her an aneurysm. It’ll also be easier to look for her tomorrow when it’s bright and more people to ask about.”
It took a while for Luka to move and settle on his bike, Juleka following elegantly after clipping her helmet on. She observed Luka and rolled her eyes at how suddenly silent he became, spine taut and stiff. She reached over and pinched his side. He yelped.
“I said stop being such an idiot geez. Do I have to hit you again?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“...I just... “ Luka sighed before twisting the key for ignition, the bike humming to life almost immediately. “Thanks for telling me Jules. Really.”
She reached over to knock at his helmet with her knuckles, mildly offended.
“She’s my friend too, dumbass.”