Chapter Text
The early hours at Francois Dupont housed three figures hunched over at the back of the classroom. One boy, sat at the end of the bench, had his eyes blinking in and out of focus as he read a book close to his face. A girl sat at the other end, alternating between sketching and sipping a large cup of coffee. Another boy was draped between them — head on the girl’s lap and sock-clad feet on the boy’s lap — and was trying to nap with a black hood partially covering his face.
“You guys look like shit.” The three raised their eyes to see Chloe Bourgeois shuffling up the stairs to their table.
“Thank you for stating the obvious.”
“Mhmm.”
“No shit.”
The three chorused their different responses. Their blonde friend merely rolled her eyes as she took her seat in front of them. Felix went back to squinting at his book. Marinette’s hand drifted to the boy on her lap to stroke his hair absentmindedly. Adrien suppressed his purrs while trying to avoid the coffee dripping onto his hoodie.
“You should’ve called me . . . us - the Court,” Chloe said, staring disappointedly at the trio.
Felix retorted, “Oh, we would not wish to interrupt your beauty slee–”
“Three akumas back to back, there was no time,” Marinette explained, rubbing her eyes, “Also, if I still went away to find everyone, we would’ve been compromised.”
“That guy seriously — seriously — has no life at all,” Adrien mumbled, “Three akumas in one night, what the actual hell.” He let out his umpteenth groan, shifting his position, much to Felix’s annoyance, who bore the weight of his feet. Adrien pulled on the strings of his cat hoodie tighter to bury deeper in it.
The previous night, after a whole week of inactivity, Hawkmoth graced Paris with three consecutive akumas: the classic Sandboy, one teenage girl crying over a breakup and bouncer in a club who had a bad day. Ladybug, Chat Noir and Le Renard were deadbeat tired at the crack of dawn, all of them opting to prepare for school early instead of going back to sleep.
Chloe snapped her fingers, “I know what you need–”
“Oh, it was just amazing! Of course, there was a time difference but we work our way around it . . .” Chloe turned to glare at Lila, who just entered the room, prattling loudly about another tall tale. The rest of the class eagerly gathered around the girl to indulge themselves. None spared their attention to the four friends at the back of the classroom.
“As I was saying,” Chloe clenched her teeth, “I think I know what you all need.”
“The corpse of the butterfly miraculous holder?”
“More coffee?”
“Mreow.”
Chloe crossed her arms. She knew, in the deep recesses of her mind, that the golden trio were attached to their self-sacrificing tendencies and would not hesitate to work themselves to death once the Parisian villain summoned another akuma marathon (especially Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who had no sense of self-preservation). On top of that, they had piles of other responsibilities squeezed in with their superhero duties. Adrien was tossed between photoshoots, piano lessons, fencing and Chinese lessons. Felix jumped from violin lessons, to helping out in his mother’s company and to keeping up his pristine grades. Lastly, Marinette, since long ago, was flooded with commissions, class president commitments and bakery chores.
“A vacation,” Chloe voiced out, “A few days out Paris and no worrying about akumas. We’ll arrange it. The Court can arrange it.”
Felix was first to react. He threw his signature glare at the blonde, eyes hardened on top of dark circles. “Absolutely not. We cannot afford to skip on akuma attacks, much less leave Paris.” Rational was one word to describe Felix, but the others would rather go with “control-freak”. His calculative steps as Le Renard had saved the day countless of times but he avoided risks at all costs.
“We can if we plan it, Culpa,” Chloe spat, knowing very well Felix would be the least eager to agree. “Think about it. Hawkmoth takes a long break now between akumas. He’s not going to try anything after last night. If he does, the Court’s here. You can take Kaalki for emergencies. Out of Paris, none of you can risk being akumatized.”
“We do not know what is going to happen when we leave. We might be caught up in a situation where we cannot teleport—”
“—then the Court, the rest of us, will handle it and we’ve done it before—”
“—and how do you expect to repair the damages without the Miraculous Cure—”
“—we know how to fight without a lot of casualties now—”
“—so what will we do if it is a powerful akuma, or a sentimonster as well—”
“Stop!” Marinette pushed herself into consciousness to break up the argument. Both blondes were ready to lunge at each other and she had half the mind to douse them both in coffee.
“Felix,” Marinette yawned, “Your points are kind of full of speculations and I agree Hawkmoth wouldn’t try anything after that – that mess last night.”
The scolded boy let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back to focus on his book again.
“And Chloe,” Marinette turned to the girl, “thanks for the idea but I think we’ll be more worried than relaxed if we get out Paris. Maybe when this is all over, the whole Court can take a vacation?”
Chloe huffed indignantly. She narrowed her eyes, first at Felix and then at Marinette. “This,” she pointed to them, “is not over. The rest will agree with me. You three need a getaway.”
As if on cue, Mlle. Bustier made her entrance, telling everyone to go back their seats. Chloe turned to the front after fishing out her phone. Marinette carefully pulled back Adrien’s hoodie, coaxing him out of the (too) short nap. “En?” she whispered, “You should go to your seat now.”
Adrien let out another groan and hauled himself into his seat next to Chloe. His hoodie was now wrinkled and his hair disheveled. The makeup he hastily put on that morning did little to hide his swollen eyebags. Chloe snatched up her makeup bag and rushed over to him, muttering, “Oh honey, come on now let’s fix that up.”
Later, none of the four paid any attention to their teacher at the front. Chloe was scrolling on her phone, seemingly in search of something. If one looked closely, a dangerous glint perched on her eye. Meanwhile, Marinette and Felix sneaked glances at each other in a silent conversation, both wondering what Chloe was planning with her devious mind. Adrien was passed out on his desk.
The bell rang. Marinette and Felix braced themselves as Chloe turned to them, a victorious smirk plastered on her face. She shoved her phone in front of them. “Now this, you can’t get out of,” she laughed, “A gala that the heir of the Culpa fortune should not miss, requires MDC as the stylist for the celebrities and invites Gabriel models too.”
As she said the words, the pair paled as their minds ran through the possibilities on how to skip out on it. But Chloe, unfortunately, was right. They peered at the new article promising the gala of the century, where famous people from all walks of life were invited. It was set two weeks from the present date. Chloe clapped her hands, “This is perfect! It’s one night, but you have two days to prepare. And the hosts are offering city tours to guests!”
Marinette chewed on her lip, “So that’s the gala Jagged and Clara commissioned me for . . . two months ago. Oh God! And Auntie Amelie too!”
Felix crinkled his nose, “Mom only mentioned it in passing. I cannot believe this.”
To their side, Adrien mumbled something, which was muffled by the desk.
“Ugh, speak up hon!” Chloe shook the sleepy boy.
Adrien did not lift his head but instead turned it to the side, blinking slowly. “Where’s this gala anyway?”
“Oh,” Chloe peeked at her phone, “In Gotham, apparently.”