Work Text:
2019 AD
She felt like she was made of liquid gold. Maybe not gold, she’d seen that when she’d been having personalized jewelry made, liquid gold was really fluid. She felt like something thick & languid, maybe lava. The music pounded around her and as she danced, sweat glistening on her skin, positive some of it belonged to the sex god dancing with her but she was not bothered by it in this context. It fogged the air or maybe that was glitter and smoke. She leaned forward to inhale from the boy’s cigarette when he tilted it to her lips, while she jumped to the beat. He was pretty, some Anglais biblical name David, John, or something. He was coming back to her room with her tonight. She promised herself she wouldn’t do that anymore but that little pink pill made it really hard to remember such boring promises, of course she promised she wouldn’t do that either but, she forgot before she took it. But she should get some credit for remembering after taking it, that she shouldn’t have.
Sex God was pulling her off the floor and into his arms, such nice arms and kissing her. He wasn’t the best kisser but she could overlook that. Suddenly she felt her phone vibrate against her ribs under her breasts where it had been strategically taped. She decided she had been saved by the ringer and pulled it out, seeing it was her father. She motioned to the boy to give her a moment. He looked at her in shock, he must not be told no very often. If he wanted to be with her, he would need to be trained. She answered, “ Oui, Papa?”
There was a long pause and conversation on the other end, “why is it so loud? You said you were going to relax by the sea and prepare for your exams.”
She let out an exasperated breath. Unbelievably, he actually believed her when she said that. What wealthy, high society, 17 year old beauty in their right mind would study or sleep alone in a Juan les Pins villa? “Papa, I just went to get dinner, that’s all. You know all these hotels have tacky riffraff parties everywhere.”
“I’m sure you could have called for one of their staff to bring it to you.”
“I would hate to be such an inconvenience. Besides I needed to stretch my legs after studying for so many hours, anyway.”
“You’re such a sweet girl, thinking of others.”
She rolled her eyes, slightly ashamed of herself for lying and of her father for his desperate need to believe her. She wasn’t really bad , not anymore she wasn’t even that mean, but she was never going to be the goody-goody her father believed/dreamed she was. “They just brought me my dinner I'm going to go back home to eat and study.”
Apparently Michael, Matthew or whatever his name was thought that was some type of an invitation and thrust his leg between her thighs and grabbed her hip with one hand and put his other hand on her rib cage his thumb and first finger ready to pinch her nipple through the fabric of her gauzy dress.
She looked at him wondering which one of them had lost more of their mind, him or her and thrust her hand against the middle of his chest. Shit, all those muscles weren’t just for show, he did drop his hand though. “ Ciao Papa.” She said ignoring anything else the clingy man had to say to her and pushing the red icon and said to the boy formerly thought of as Sex God, “Ew, I was on the phone with my father.”
Ignoring her hand on his chest with her arm still extended he put his hands on her hips and attempted to pull her harder on his thigh. “And now you’re not.”
Having stowed her phone away she put her hand down, “Don’t you know who I am?”
“The luckiest girl here.”
Ugh, she thought he was a catch? Reminding herself she was very strong she took both hands and pushed him away but instead of pushing him in the middle of the chest she aimed below the ribs in the diaphragm. It worked much better. “As if it has anything to do with you. My father is An—”
“Adam, what the hell? Get off of her! How much have you had?” A stunning boy said, his eyes as blue as the water but his tanned skin a coppery brown hinting of Asian heritage. He pulled Adam away from her.
She snarled “Don’t ever touch me again, don’t ever speak to me again, don’t even think about me again,” she said to Adam. She turned to her would be hero. “Thank you,” she said as he helped her stand in her heels then walked away.
Zain pushed his friend away from him intentionally toward the sand, “You’re such a fuck up.”
Trashed as he was Adam fell off the walkway into the sand, “Zain was such a dick sometimes. She was a party girl she saw a pretty boy and wanted to take him home and keep him warm.”
“You said all of that, including the part where you insulted me. Did you take any drugs? They’ll kick you out of the shoot if they catch you with drugs.”
Adam shook his head, “No, drugs, I was rerry careful.”
“You certainly drank enough then, based on the way you’re acting.”
He hadn’t drank more than he should have but he felt weird, wrong. “I don’t feel right. Do you think she drugged me?!”
Zain rolled his heavenly eyes upward, “she wouldn’t need to. Come on, you can stay with me, I think you might have been drugged, actually wait.” He said and helped his friend stand against a tree while he ran off to find the mouthy blond.
“Hey! Wait! Stop! I need to talk to you!” he yelled.
She turned around and tapped her toe impatiently. “What?!”
“I think someone drugged him. They might have been trying to drug you. Are you walking off property?”
“How else am I supposed to get home?”
“How else are you suppose to deliver yourself into a sex slave ring?” he snidely replied.
First she looked shocked someone would say such a thing to her but then she realized he was thinking about sex, and her, “Really? Moi a sex slave?”
“Not likely, more likely they would ransom you, don’t you think?”
What a jerk! She was gorgeous, people would pay big bucks to have her as their sex slave… what the hell was she doing! It was good to not be a sex slave. “What is your point.”
“Come back to the hotel and have them drive you safely back…Please.” He looked worried, “Please. I really gotta get back to Adam, I left him against a tree, if the dose is strong enough he’s probably knocked out. He’s not safe, but I didn’t want you to go out alone.”
She nodded, “alright, thank you. For both rescues, the potential one and the one from your friend.”
They walked back to Adam together and found him next to the tree with his fingers down his throat forcing himself to retch. By the time they reached him he was finished and had crawled to the other side of the tree and laid down.
Zain leaned over and grabbed his friend’s hand to haul him up. “Come on, we’ll get you to bed.”
Adam nodded, “Got sick, had to get it out, don’t want to get into trouble.”
Zain understood, and helped him walk, surprised when the little ray of toxic sunshine went to Adam’s other side and after looking him over put his arm over her shoulders.
“I’m impressed, you didn’t get anything on your clothes,” she said.
Adam attempted humor but looked awful, “Model skill, how to puke effortlessly.”
Zain gently punched him in the side, “That’s not funny.”
Sunshine laughed, “And perpetuates a negative ideology and culture that negatively implies models are only thin because of bulimia or anorexia not from healthy choices like exercising and developing healthy eating habits…” they walked a few steps “even if apparently in your case you do know how to vomit tidily.”
Zain laughed, this was obviously something she had said before. “Adam you could get an award for most tidy vomiter.”
Adam was not impressed. He was feeling much better, but it was obvious he was sick and now he was worried about himself and Sunshine. “I’m pretty sure I was drugged, need to tell Dusty.” He turned to the blond, “Sorry, was such a dick, normally jusssa dick, you ‘kay? No one drug you?”
“I didn’t eat or drink anything.” She wiggled her finger at him, “ I know better.” ‘ Except … never mind that right now!’ She fought with her conscience about the pink pill and pushed it firmly out of her mind, she’d write a note before bed like always. Mentally laughing, that was what responsible drug users did.
Zain laughed at his friend hanging his head, pretty sure it was in shame as much as misery. They entered the hotel and saw the concierges’ stand next to the elevator, “There’s the concierge,” he said as they walked to the elevator.”
“It’s fine. I’ll help you guys first. I’ll choose to believe him when he says he’s not normally a colossal dick just a regular one.”
Walking into the elevator, Adam piped up, “Not what I said.”
“Same thing” they both replied then laughed blushing with embarrassment.
They silently walked into the boys’ room which smelled like a high end spa for men, their skin products, hair products, and cologne scenting the room deliciously. Adrien’s room never smelled like this. It gave her a perfect image of a modern vs. ancient ad. It could be video or print. In ancient times men would be hidden in the fog but in modern times the same models in the same positions would be in a steam room the steam hiding them. Her hand itched start a preliminary design. It could be used to sell anything needed to be labeled as masculine that also was modern or fashionable. She would talk to Marinette and Nathaniel when she got back, maybe even her mother.
They laid an almost asleep Adam into a bed and Zain took his shoes off him, then reached for his phone. “Hey, it’s Zain… our room… actu—…obviously I didn’t… Adam might have been drugged that’s why I’m calling you. I’m worried, he forced himself to throw up when he started to feel out of sorts and it helped—” as he was talking there was a knocking at the door Zain opened it and ended the call and putting his phone in his pocket.
A handsome fully shaved bald man wearing all black pajamas walked in. “What is a Lady doing in here?”
“I was afraid his drugged drink was actually meant for her so I asked her to have our concierge have a driver take her home instead of let her walk.”
“And where are you staying?”
“Next door,” she said irritably, she did not like it implied she was a prostitute.
“I’ll call her hotel to pick her up.”
“Next door, is not a hotel,” she retorted. She turned to the boy, “It was nice meeting you….”
“Zain, Zain Khanani, it was a pleasure meeting you Chloé Bourgeoisie. You’re nothing like they make you seem in the media. Adrien’s right, they really get you wrong.”
Chloé’s face shone like the sun, “Thank you, are you friends, then?”
“I think so, yes. He’s pretty reserved so it’s hard to tell.” He smiled.
Chloé pulled her phone out unlocked it and went to messages then handed the phone to Zain, “Call me?”
Yes, please! He thought but calmly took her phone, still warm from her breast and typed his number in the contact line and his name in the message and hit send feeling his phone vibrate against his rear. He quickly pulled it out, yep, new number. He gave her, her phone and put his in his back pocket then turned to see Dusty checking on Adam more carefully. Dusty’s worry made him worry. “Dusty, I know it’s past curf—”
“Yes, be back in an hour. I might be taking him to the hospital, I will be calling this room, in one hour!”
Zain nodded. “I understand.”
Dusty turned to Chloé, “I apologize Mlle. Bourgeoisie, I should not have made assumptions about your character.”
She nodded, then shook her head, “You shouldn’t make assumptions on any girls’ character. I do accept your apology though, thank you.” She could have sworn she heard him call her a bitch so it didn’t matter either way, apparently he was a misogynist bastard. She just turned on the “Politician Daughter Smile” and turned to walk to the door.
Zain followed.
“I mean it, you have a shoot a 6am with him" motioning towards Adam, “and another with Jess and the girls at 12,” Dusty looked down at Adam, “I’ll let you know if the 6 gets cancelled.”
That’s when Chloé understood they were a pair, Adam was white with a golden tan and had brown eyes and sandy brown hair, and their bodies were strikingly similar, somehow aesthetically they were opposite in a complementary way, with Zain's olive brown skin similar to Adam’s hair color, his own hair’s tips were bleached a perfect gold complementing Adam’s golden skin. The piece de resistance was Adam’s eyes being the common Asian brown and Zain's being the vibrant Adriatic sea blue-green. They really were an amazing pair. Her brain immediately flooded with ideas.
Zain walked back to Adam and pushed gently on his shoulder, “Hey, get better, I need you until you get ugly.”
Adam laughed half heartedly, “She really that chick?”
“Yeah, dumbass,” Zain said getting up and walking to her.
“Feel better!” Chloé said and they walked out.
They quietly walked to the elevator, when they got to the concierge they were led to a waiting car. When they got in they told the driver the address and they were off. It truly took longer driving than walking. When they got to the gate Chloé used her phone to deactivate the lock and it opened soundlessly and the driver drove down a long road to another gate. Chloé was already tapping a code into her phone for unlike the last one, this one was solid blocking the view of what was behind it. When it opened slowly he expected to see some amazing paradise, what he saw was… grass, and a lot of palm trees the driver kept going then he saw a modern style house made of cubes and pools. All the pools were lit beautiful pools of blue water lighting the white cube home.
Chloé reached into her dress but before she could fish out some money Zain handed the driver his card and told him in Arabic, “Don’t take the woman’s money no matter what she says and you can have 10 Euro more than whatever she promises.” The driver smiled.
Then, Chloé told him, “No, this is my home here,” she said looking at the meter giving him his fare plus a bit more as a bribe to not take Zain’s money.
The driver counted the money then ran Zain’s card added 12 Euros to the total, more than the entire trip and handed Chloé her money. “Are we good? Tout va Bien? Alles Gut? Hasna?” He asked
Chloé looked pissed but also impressed that Zain had been able to pull one over on her.
The driver turned to Zain, “I’m not Arab. I’m Pakistani like your parents. Like you. My daughter has a picture of you on her wall, I know more than I want to about you.”
Zain had the grace to blush from his neck to his hair.
Chloé had gotten out of the car but was holding the door open still watching the whole transaction in English which was Zain and Adam’s language. At his uncomfortable blush she burst into laughter and asked, “are you coming?”
Zain looked into the mirror as if asking the driver permission. The driver looked at him like he was crazy, he didn't know him. Zain mentally agreed then opened the door and got out calling, “Shukria, Uncle!" to the driver who smiled.
“Your welcome Pretty American Boy.” He said driving off.
That set Chloé off again even more so when she heard Zain say, “a second ago I was Pakistani, now I’m American?”
“Welcome to Europe, Pretty American Boy,” she said still laughing as she opened the door to an opulent home. The pools seemed to flow from outside under the glass walls inside. Oddly for one of those MTV Crib houses it was pretty homey. You could tell that this house was intended to both live and entertain in.
He pulled out his phone and texted Dusty.
Zain Khanani: what’s going on with Adam?
Jacob Dustyn: He’s being admitted for 24 hour observation. Both shoots are canceled for tomorrow. I'll be staying here tonight. If you need anything Steven will take care of it.
Zain Khanani: I'm at Chloé’s, can I stay a little longer?
Jacob Dustyn: don't do anything that would upset your parents
Zain Khanani: I’m already alone with her.
Jacob Dustyn: you know what I mean, and I’m serious you can stay later as long as you’re respectful, which I know you are. I have to go. I’ll keep you updated on Adam, good job on getting me.
Zain let out a huge sigh.
Chloé looked at him, confused, “what’s wrong?”
“Adam is under 24 hour observation”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” She said uncomfortably.
“I'm sure he’ll be okay,” he said hopefully, “Dusty said I could stay later too.” He looked into her eyes, “if you are comfortable with it.”
She nodded, and led him down a hallway and up a few stairs. The living room area appeared in front of them with a dining room to the right and a kitchen further to the right and it smelled like cookies… damn it, they were on the dining room table. He gravitated toward the inviting malformed buttery shells. Real French Madeleine cookies, made by a real French girl! His cousin would be so jealous, he reached for one.
“I wouldn’t eat those. I don’t know how to cook. It was more of a science experiment than a recipe.” She lied seeing the desire in his eyes, but knew he had a shoot in the morning, see she could be nice.
Zain looked at them critically, bad cookies? Weird chick, who could turn cookies into a science experiment? Still, if she said they weren’t edible…bummer.
She walked to her fridge and pulled out a sparkling water. “water, wine, champagne?”
“Water, from the tap, none of that sparkling stuff.”
Deeply offended Chloé pulled a water goblet down and poured sink water in it then handed it to him. It felt weird, wrong, . “Uh, yeah, so, this is my house."
“Yep.” He said popping the P. Oh, god why did he do that? The crisis was over, so he had to act like an idiot? He drank slowly so he couldn’t talk.
Chloé looked uncomfortable, he was here, now what did she do with him? “Uuum? Movie?”
He took a tiny sip then handed her the cup, “thanks, yeah, sounds good.”
She led him back to the living room and pulled out a remote. It was one of those fablet size ones that controlled the entire home. She pressed a button, there was a small chime and she said “Main TV on, Level 1 Southern Exposure open all.”
He heard a sucking sound and a woosh then the glass wall began to part and swing towards them, that’s when he saw that it was following a track it was going to stand against the white outside pillar creating a glass wall dividing the living room from the dining room Out on the patio. That was when he realized the dining room/kitchen had a glass wall that had retracted at her command as well. “Amazing!” he whispered reverently.
Chloé smiled, “Yeah, I never get tired of it either. My mom takes it for granted, she just walks away, to be fair, most people around here do but I always watch, it’s… beautiful.”
“Beautiful.” They said together.”
Pushing the button again she said “Main tv, uh, show current HD New releases. Do you have anything you want to see?”
Before he could answer the speakers around the room loudly stated, “I’m sorry, your request could not be completed at this time.”
She shrugged.
“Batgirl?”
“Got a thing for super girls?”
Zain turned red, “All guys have a thing for super hero girls.” He mumbled. “Besides Barbra’s special, she’s like Batman, her humanity is what makes her special. That and her tenacity, she isn’t really a super, she’s just super dedicated to humanity. She’s super human . I don't want to give anything away, but nothing stops her from being a superhero not even when she can't be Batgirl anymore. She's amazing,” he said nearly sighing.
Chloé felt her heart clench, which it very much was NOT allowed to do. “So, she's 'Super Human' as opposed to what 'Super Alien'?”
Zain looked at her like she was crazy, “Yeah, like Supergirl and Superman who are aliens.”
Chloé actually did know that, she just forgot. She blushed. “Oh.” She pushed the button again, “Play Batgirl HD” three movies popped up on the screen, ugh, couldn’t she catch a single break? Were all models this obsessed with pop culture? And really were Superman and Supergirl really 'Super Aliens' she didn't think so, they were probably just average aliens. She sneered at the TV, this was obviously Adrien's fault, she shouldn't even know there was a Supergirl.
“The new one,” he said pointing to the movie's thumbnail, pulling her from her thoughts.
She arrowed over to the most recent one and clicked it. “Have a seat, I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”
She watched his Adam’s apple bob. “That sounded way sexier than it will be. Incase you forgot, this,” She said pointing from mid thigh to shoulder up and down indicating her dress, “apparently is prostitution apparel.”
Zain looked ashamed, even though he wasn’t the one who’d said it.
“You’re not good at hiding your emotions are you.”
He shook his head, “Do I need to be?”
“You’re a model.”
“Not an actor, besides I know how to do my job perfectly fine,” he said grumpily.
Great now she’d just pissed him off. She flashed him the 10,000 watt smile and handed him the remote just now realizing the movie had already started, with a cute redheaded toddler in a pretty dress getting into a toolbox filled with sharp screwdrivers while a man engrossed in his own project ignored her. “Parents ignoring their super kids, that’s not new,” she grumbled then, “Anyway, I’ll be back.”
She walked down the hall her heels intentionally making so much noise he had overwhelming urge to “Shhh” her, if she was going to play that game, he knew the song too. He pulled out his phone and looked up “Queen Bee” and got a ton of pictures of bees and 'save the bee' websites. He tried again, ‘Queen Bee Paris 2019’.
A few years back Ladybug and Chat Noir had taken Chloé's Miraculous and everyone in the world who paid attention (but mainly the people of Paris) were very aware of it. Awhile later a new Queen Bee appeared, she had black hair with a yellow stripe running through it and black skin (true black, not of African descent) with piercing dark yellow eyes with blue sclera. Even her outfit was different, all black from her neck to her toes and fingertips with only 3 thin yellow stripes around her abdomen.
Zain analyzed the pictures on his phone of Chloé in a tabloid from a couple months ago, another when she was Queen Bee when they were younger and a picture of the new Queen Bee. Looking at the pictures up close though made it pretty clear Queen Bee had never changed under his breath he whispered, “Holy Shit, they lied. It’s still her.”
Chloé shut the door to her room and kicked her evil shoes off. She’d been wearing heels since she was 11 but on marble for more than 1 hour was just torture. Being around Zain was agony, she hadn’t been this horny in years, turned on sure but full blown cross your legs afraid for the fabric under you horny? It had been a while. She was actually starting to feel a little crampy, who said blue balls was a condition only boys got? “Psst Pollen!” she whispered.
“Yes, My Queen?”
“Stop that, you know I’m your friend. I need your help,” Chloé blushed while undressing. The dress, made by Marinette was strategically taped to her and she began pulling it over her head and detaching it from her body until she was free of it. That's when she heard a small clatter. She looked down and saw the pill she picked it up, it had been stamped with a heart, she rolled her eyes and threw it into the toilet and flushed. Smugly she blew a kiss at her reflection, apparently she hadn't taken the pink pill! Score! Everyday she liked herself more but some days were harder to like who she was throughout the day and like the person at the end of the day. That was how she lived now, she made decisions that would make her happy at the end of the day not fleeting moments. She'd learned too late and couldn't fix her old friendship with Sabrina, and had lost one of the most important people in her life. Worst it was through cruelty she'd driven Sabrina away. They'd made up but their friendship had sustained irreparable damage. Oddly it took losing Sabrina's friendship and love to change Chloé.
Then she began pulling all the tape off. “I need you to tell me, is the boy in the next room attracted to me or is it because of the drive to be with or please the queen bee?”
Pollen was really getting tired of this nonsense. What did it matter? Use’em and Lose’em! Not Chloé though, she needed to know if her potential mate wanted to be with her psychologically. She sighed, “Does it matter, my queen?”
Chloé had peeled all the tape off and was standing naked in front of her bathroom vanity. She opened the drawer for her brush and pulled her hair down and braided it from one above one eyebrow flat across her head tucking her comb in then continued the braid hiding it over the top of it and braided it over her shoulder then tied it off with a yellow bow, somehow her trademark not childish in her exclusive case. She walked over to the closet and pulled out the cutsie Pajama set Marinette had made her. The shorts were an ugly light green but the softest lightest satin, with ugly green piles of what looked like green poop embroidered around the hem in the same color. The top was made of the same soft satin but in white. In the middle of the shirt lounged a bee but instead of the typical bee colors of yellow and black it was dark soy sauce brown and wasabi green with pickled ginger wings and chopstick antenna last but not least. It was lounging on a fatty salmon sashimi slice with the words “Wasa-Bee” above it and “It Stings” below it.
Chloé reached over and pumped some lotion into her hands and rubbed it all over into her skin, “Yes, I want to be wanted because I’m me not because of money, or power, or compulsion.”
“What if someone likes you because you have blue eyes?”
“That’s me.”
“So is your compulsion.”
“It’s your compulsion. If I had to give you up, I wouldn’t have it anymore.”
“You’d still have a little, we’ve been together a long time,” Pollen countered.
“Pollen!”
“How would you feel if someone refused to be with you simply because of your compulsion?”
“I’d understand, no one wants to be forced to do things.”
“Fine.”
Pollen buzzed out of the room and went through the fully open wall and into the open living room flying behind Zain seeing what was on his phone her tiny shoulders fell and she wondered what Trixx would do. Should she tell Chloé? She liked this one, Pollen could tell, she was so deep in thought she almost missed the most important words the geeky boy could have said.
“MJ dated Peter Parker not Spiderman,” He said as if convincing himself of something.
Pollen decided that meant something important and buzzed back to Chloé with a bright smile and a twinkle in her brown and blue eyes. “I think you will be very happy with this one Chloé”
Chloé nodded with a huge smile double checked the outfit. There was nothing under it but it didn’t look slutty. Nope nothing was inappropriate, yet. She wasn’t even sure if he was the inappropriate type. ‘ Oh, please let him be the inappropriate type!’ She sent the thought heavenward then thought that probably wasn’t the right direction and looked at the floor and winked and giggled knowing she was being silly and putting off the inevitable. She walked back into her room and pulled out a big quilt and walked along the long patio walkway that was now completely exposed and walked around to the living room seeing him lounging on the sofa she silently watched him then she saw him move, then he moved again and her chin dropped and a huge smile crossed her face and she covered her mouth. He was posing for her return. He was stunningly gorgeous and he was posing for her and according to Pollen not because he was compelled to. He stood up in a huff and leaned against the sofa then unbuttoned his shirt, wow, yum then he shook his head and buttoned it back up she decided he looked too tortured and walked in between poses. She could tell she surprised him coming in from the open balcony. She could also tell he was getting hard. She turned red because she noticed she’d been caught looking in an inappropriate location.
Zain wasn’t sure if he should just call Uber now or what. Just looking at her gave him an hard on and she saw it. Was there a place he could hide? The embarrassment was killing him. He hung his head but lifted it when he heard a slithering sound.
She was pulling a huge blanket behind her and was coming to sit on the sofa. She looked at the TV the little girl was unmoving with her hands deep in the toolbox. “You didn’t start without me?”
He looked confused, “no, why would I?”
She shrugged, everyone else she knew would have. “are you going to sit with me?”
He nodded. “You want me to stay?” he said slipping onto the sofa under the blanket.
She turned to him, he couldn’t be this naïve, and blushing, looking away, whispered, “when a girl intentionally dresses sexy for a guy there is nothing wrong with getting that for a reaction. Especially when the guy is as respectful as you are."
Zain smiled, usually he was ridiculed pretty bad by his friends and colleagues for his virginal logic and attitude. He came from a conservative family and for the most part he was pretty conservative himself. He opened his right arm and she snuggled in. He handed her the remote she pushed play. He was looking at her, the braid the pajamas, she was so cute. Completely different than the media’s rich, snobby bitch. “Can I ask you a really offensive question?”
“If I don’t have to answer it,” she replied without looking away from the screen.
“Which one is the real Chloé?”
She had absolutely no idea why she felt so safe with him. The only other men she felt this emotionally safe with were Jean-Yves, Carapace, Chat Noir, Adrien and Tom Dupain. All of them had taken time to build her trust not minutes. She snuggled closer resting her head against the side of his neck and throwing her legs over his under the blanket before softly replying, “I’m not sure.”
He nodded, he understood that, religious, Pakistani, American, virgin, model, mathlete, golf team, soccer team, comic geek, he was pulled so many absurd directions that didn’t work he just learned to wear black and show up. He felt his neck get wet and realized she had to be crying. Jeez, he was an asshole. He made her cry. Should he say something? Obviously she didn’t want him to notice or she wouldn’t have kept so silent. He spread his legs and pulled her firmly on one and pulled the blanket close around them and pressed her tight to him and whispered back. “I don’t know who the real Zain is either." He felt and heard the ragged deep inhale of breath against his neck.
She cleared her throat to cover her sniffs then asked, “are you in university?”
“Uh, um, no, I graduate high school in 4 weeks. Tonight was actually our prom.”
“That’s a really big event in your culture isn’t it?”
At first he didn't understand. ‘ in your culture’ had always referred to Pakistani or South Asian, but she meant American. “Yeah, it’s supposed to be the last real fun, or romantic moment, or hookup. On the other hand, for a lot of people, they choose tonight for their first time. That’s why they make so many movies about it.”
Chloé swallowed, “were you planning on…” she trailed off.
He shook his head. “I already had the jobs lined up for this weekend, I don’t have a girlfriend, prom would've been pointless.”
“The girls must have been crushed. Missing an opportunity to be with you.”
He snorted, “yeah, right. Where I go no one ever sees my ads I’m just a geeky vir-soccer player, loser.”
Chloé heard his heart speed up and smiled. A virgin, model, footballeur! Could this guy get hotter? “I don’t think you're a loser and I doubt anyone you go to school with does either.” Zain relaxed around her and she slid back onto the sofa, sitting on legs looks cute but Is not comfortable when they feel like wood. She stayed tucked against him.
She didn’t regret losing her virginity to Max, their relationship had been shocking to a lot of people, themselves included. She'd easily identified all the miraculous bearers minus Luca. She wasn’t sure how she acquired the skill to figure everyone out but she just had it, sometimes she worried how many other people had the skill.. She figured out Adrien was Chat Noir the afternoon he'd done her homework. While Chat and Adrien didn't move, act or even look that much alike, they had the same handwriting, and he sounded the same when he reprimanded her. After Adrien figuring everyone else's identity’s out was like putting clock gears together. Except Marinette, her brain insisted Ladybug was Marinette but her pride refused to allow the girl she had placed on the pedestal of arch nemesis to be behind the mask of her hero. In the end she finally had to admit to herself Marinette was indeed Ladybug.
On assignment with Pegasus, Queen Bee discussed the possibility of knowing everyone's identities and he replied he'd known Chat Noir and Ladybug since Alix had been turned into Timebreaker after her race with Kim. The following day he started tutoring her in medieval history, by the end of the week they were dating and their class could not deal with their shock. It was actually offensive how shocked they acted. After two months they'd given their virginity to one another. Three months later everything was falling apart. She hadn’t thought she could be so devastated but she was, adding to it was her class bullying her and blaming her for things she hadn't done. They came up with their own theories about why they broke up and somehow she was the villain in all of them. No one would ever dream that Max might have broke up with her because their relationship was causing him to neglect his ‘life schedule’. In half a year she'd had her first sexual relationship with a boy. She'd lost her best friend. She finally understood that no one really liked her. She'd learned how to treat people. in the end the only people who stood by her had been Adrien and surprisingly Marinette, who didn’t know Chloé knew her secret. The whole debacle had forged a lasting if (at least in the beginning) tenuous relationship with Mari, who apparently hated to be called 'Marinette Dupain-Cheng'.
They watched the movie which ended up being one of those DC 2 hour epics and by the time it had ended they had finally moved through all the stages of awkwardness. Unfortunately for both of their plans Chloé was folded onto some type of origami pattern in his arms fast asleep while Zain was blissfully unaware asleep on her shoulder.
***
Chloé woke up to a humming against her neck. No, that was not humming, that was snoring, ugh, her back was killing her. She moved and saw him sit up abruptly, ‘Oh, hello, Beautiful,’ she thought sitting up yawning. “ Bonjour Chéri,” she said smiling up at Zain’s messy hair and bloodshot eyes. She unfolded then stood up offering her hand.
Zain looked out the wall opening and saw the sun’s glittering ray’s touching the Mediterranean sea. Probably around 5am. He looked back at Chloé, he wasn’t actually ready, he woke up relieved they’d fallen asleep only to find out they had not slept long enough. Hunger clawed at him and thirst he was so thirsty but they wanted him to look ‘ shredded' in this shoot which was more defined than ripped.
Chloé’s stopped offering her hand and was looking closely at him. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, “I need to call Dusty.” He pulled out his phone and dialed.
Chloé watched the one sided conversation seeing relief, then stress, then irritation, then obvious anger take over Zain’s features until finally he rallied and coldly replied to whatever Dusty had been saying. “I'm breaking diet protocol. If you cost me Vanderbilt I don’t really give a shit about water retention.” He said and hung up. He turned to her and said one word, “water.” Then as an afterthought, “please or s'il vous plaît.”
Chloé laughed a small nervous laugh releasing some of her own tension and sauntered to the kitchen in her tiny wasabi green shorts. Unaware how turned on Zain was but very aware of the rasp of the fabric against her hardening nipples. She returned with a water goblet full of water.
Zain thanked her and downed it quickly. “I haven’t had water in 2 days. It would have been fine if the shoot had been today but it’s been postponed till Thursday and next Monday.”
“What about school?”
“That doesn’t matter to them.”
“But it does to you, what are you missing?”
“Our education system is pretty different so I don’t know if you have anything like it. I go to school with kids of all different education levels and you can be put in special classes. I’m in some of the high level classes. Universities give us our final tests. Those tests are on Thursday, Friday and Tuesday.” He swallowed and she saw his eyes fill with tears, she tried to look away knowing he didn’t want to cry in front of her. “Excuse me.” He said and went to the bathroom.
Chloé reached for his hand to try and comfort him but he was too fast. She let her hand fall but walked to the bathroom where she could hear the familiar sounds of a lonely heart breaking. Sobs that weren’t allowed to be heard.
Zain walked into the well appointed bathroom. It was the size of a small apartment. There was a huge sauna, a massage room and a shower 8 people could easily fit in, who knew where the commode was though. While it was amazing he didn’t see any of it. He was to busy watching the dreams he had planned for himself fall apart. He had worked himself ragged keeping a 5.12 GPA without drugs. He had been accepted to Vanderbilt pending results from his tests. Tests he wouldn’t be taking. Sobs bubbled up from his throat. Not wanting Chloé to hear him, he’d grabbed a plush towel and shoved his face into it and ran into the cool sauna and allowed himself to fall apart.
Chloé tried to open the door but he had locked it, she couldn’t stand this. She went to the kitchen and tried to be useful.
Queen of Paris: What can models eat days before a shoot?
ADRIKINS: Depends.
ADRIKINS: Why????
ADRIKINS: Please do NOT cook.
Queen of Paris: Not everything is about you. Jerk. It’s for like, muscles, he said he hasn’t had water in 2 days. But they postponed his shoot till Thursday it was supposed to be now.
ADRIKINS: That’s dedication. It was to make his muscles stand out. He can eat anything as far as I know. I’ve never done that diet. He’s got like 5 days, keep away from fats though. High protein I think. Lots of water. Juice the muscles.
Queen of Paris: You guys are weird. Just tell me what to order him.
Sunday, his morning to sleep in Adrien woke to an insistent buzzing he reached for his phone and read Chloé’s question and responded not expecting a conversation. He began waking up when he realized, this wasn’t a theoretical question there was a real ' he' she wanted to order breakfast for. He looked at the clock at the top of his phone at… FIVE in the Morning ?!
Meanwhile back along Cote d’Azur in a pretty ‘little’ house a young lady chewed her lip waiting for a response.
ADRIKINS: Who is he?
Chloé’s fingers flew across her keyboard typing his full name Zain Khanani. She’d looked him up on her phone, he was popular, girls all over Asia and north Africa were crazy about him. Apparently he was hot with Turkey and Eastern Europe too. She blushed there was at least one French girl who felt dewy around him. But like he said, no American presence and very little northern European. She decided he might not want people knowing he had spent the night with ‘ Parisian, Princess, Party Girl Chloé Bougie’ the name the media had irritatingly given her. After a moment’s hesitation she sadly deleted his name.
Queen of Paris: None of your business.
ADRIKINS: I don’t want you getting hurt. Let me talk to him.
Queen of Paris: I won’t, he’s a good guy and very private.
Adrien wracked his brain but knew there were too many models and he really was unfamiliar with the Muscle scene. Sighing he decided to just remind her she wasn’t who she used to be.
ADRIKINS: You’re a great girl too, don't forget that and let other people tell you different.
Queen of Paris: Thanks, I know, Pere . FOOD?
ADRIKINS: Sounds like he really would like water. Get hydrating fruits. I'm going back to bed. Make good choices!
Queen of Paris: Oui President!
Adrien rolled his eyes then rolled over and went back to sleep.
Chloé called her favorite restaurant and requested a family fruit tray hoping the sugar and carbohydrate content in the fruit wouldn't prevent him from eating then walked to the other end of the massage room /restroom and tested the doorhandle finding it unlocked she walked in calling out, "I'm coming in," gently.
Zain wiped his face embarrassed, geez, way to look like a complete dork. He'd seen a sink around here some place it would help but he already knew his nose was swollen and red and he probably looked like he had two black eyes from natural under eye circles. Finding the sink he quickly splashed water on his face and that was where Chloé found him.
His hair was slightly wet around his face and his eyes were bloodshot with huge dark purple circles under them and his nose seemed to have grown twice in size along with his lips both taking on a the same red color as his eyes. She had no idea what to do, since she'd cleaned up her life she'd never really bothered with boys and before that she'd never wanted to comfort one. She held her arms open walked forward and wrapped him in an envelope of her arms crooning, "Oh, Chéri, it'll get better, you will see. You say 'When the door slams the sash falls open' no?"
Zain was stunned, one of his fantasy girls was holding him comforting him when he looked like crap. And, what was she saying, door? sash? Like a pageant queen wears? Oh, no like a window! He laughed in his mind not wanting to offend her when she was trying to comfort him, "In the US we say, 'When one door closes another door opens' some people say 'a window opens'"
"Ah! Window, yes!" She smiled brightly. "Well, the time for self pity has ended. Breakfast has been ordered, plans must be made!" She said with the authority of a general.
Zain watched her in awe. She was definitely different than every news article made her out to be. "What do you mean?"
"You think you aren't going to be able to take your tests?"
"I'm in France."
"Then we need to see if you can take them at a satellite location or someplace here."
How had he not thought of that? "That's genius!"
"I know, I have my moments."
"I will not date stupid boy, C'est parti! "
He smiled, he liked the way her accent made the word 'stupid' sound, then he registered what she'd said and he felt shock and excitement go through him but, "Say party?"
"Um, 'get moving' I think, maybe, 'we're off!' C'est parti , not," her she used the most hilarious southern accent, "Saaaay Partaaay."
Zain laughed, how was it she was making him laugh, "Sorry, I took Spanish," at her look of horror he apologized again. "Sorry, I'll make it up to you. I'll do my best to not be stupid if you're sure you want to give me a chance."
Chloé blushed, she already said she would, why was he asking again? Feeling embarrassed she looked down, "only if you're not stupid." She looked up through her long black eyelashes.
Zain's breath caught but he nodded, "I'll make sure to be as smart as possible."