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When you're sixteen, it's still easy to dream about bending the whole world to one's will. You're young and hopeful, still disillusioned that one day, you can have it all.
So Félix was not at all unique in dreaming, though his wishes were more like goals, attainable and within reach. All he ever wanted was some peace and quiet, enough money to buy a farm in a small village far away from the city noise, and someone who would love him despite his flaws.
Hoping someone would love him because of them was, in his opinion, a bit too much.
Sometimes, and this was one of those times, he couldn't help it though.
He looked at the shop. At the business card. Then back at the shop again.
He had the right address. The tinted panes, the gold lettering—he could tell at a glance this shop was out of his price range, even if they cut him a deal, which she had assured him they would as long as he had the card. She had hastily scribbled fondant on it in an elegant handwriting that he'd memorized from the hundred times he had looked at the paper.
He should have known it. Fawn's taste was as expensive as it was exquisite, even though she hid it well.
Félix knew she hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, and he had promised her that he would at least go inside before casting his judgment, but establishments like this always made him feel a little less human.
He was not going to go inside and ruin his day.
He turned on his feet.
"You're supposed to come inside!"
The cry startled Félix, causing him to trip as he swung around to see who had yelled. It was a child about seven years younger than him, hair up in long pigtails, a wide grin on her face. There was a wide gap where a tooth used to be.
He slipped a hand in his pocket. His fingers wrapped around his trick coin, feeling the familiar pattern on it.
The little girl resembled the doe-eyed superheroine a lot.
"I think you're mistaken."
"No, I'm not. My sister told me to watch out for you."
"Your sister?"
He flipped the coin.
"Duh." Even the accompanying eye-roll reminded Félix of Fawn. It took the edge off. "She had to do a delivery but she said she'll be back in half an hour and that you're not allowed to chicken out."
"How do you know she meant me and not somebody else?"
She tilted her head questioningly.
"Aren't you?"
Another spin of the coin. "I might be."
"You're weird. But she likes you."
He felt a smile tug at his lips when she said that.
"Does she now?"
"Uhuh. But she will not like it if I say more."
"Uhuh."
He watched her zip her lips and throw away the key. Then she put her hands on her hips, bit down on her lip, and waited for him to ask her for more so she could tell him no.
Félix didn't ask, although he was tempted to. Fawn and him had never bothered to hide their identities, but he didn't want to infringe on her civilian life any more than he had to.
He knew her face, and that they went to the same school, that her favorite color was pink, and that she loved her sister very much. He knew her face but not her name—and though the world was not better for it—if it meant she would continue to tolerate him, he would gladly continue to not know.
"Want to come in?" She finally relented. "I'm Bridgette, by the way. Bridgette Dupain- Cheng. "
"Félix Hollander."
"The Flying Dutchman!"
Félix smiled softly. Even though he'd heard that comparison a hundred times before.
"Yeah. Like the Flying Dutchman."
"I love it."
"Thanks."
"So are you going to come in?"
"I'm not sure it's such a good idea."
" Suit yourself." Bridgette grinned, as though knowing exactly what he was there for. "Wait… you're the wizard! I saw you winking at my sister! You like her too!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied smoothly, though he recalled the girl she was talking about.
He'd recognized Fawn, and gone with it, hoping to coax a smile out of her.
Fawn's smiles had that innocence about them that Félix lacked, reminiscent of kinder times; he was fond of it.
"Oh my gosh, you totally like her!"
"I do not!"
"You've got to come in!" Bridgette marched over and grabbed his wrist. He stiffened and she let go. "Sorry. I forget."
He gave her a pass for being Fawn's sister.
"Marinette says please ."
"Well, if she says please…" Félix clutched his coin for the bravery needed to take the leap. "Then I guess I can wait for a little while. Can I ask what happened to your tooth?"
"Louis from sixth punched me." Bridgette informed him matter-of-factly. "Don't worry. I hit him back."
"I'm… not sure that's a good thing."
"Maman says I'm grounded. But Marinette says I can help her out. So life is good."
"Help her out?"
"At the shop!" explained the girl enthusiastically. She pushed the door open, leading him inside.
The shop's interior was no less elegant than its exterior design. There was only one clothes' rack standing by the window, with examples of suit jackets and pants hanging on it.
The small room was attached to a bakery that made Félix's stomach churn. He had skipped lunch.
Bridgette seated him on a chaise, then rushed off to play a good host.
The bell above the door jingled.
"I am so sorry! Did he come? I tried my best to… Oh."
Félix stood up when he saw her. Marinette's cheeks turned red, and she smiled nervously. He offered her his hand which she shook reluctantly.
"Hi."
"I am so glad you came." Marinette's cheeks swelled.
Félix pretended he was unperturbed.
Bridgette very wisely backed out of the room, taking refuge in the bakery.