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Marinette rummaged through her pink, handmade purse for her airplane ticket. While trying not to squash Tikki, Marinette panically shuffled through the random objects in her bag for the ticket. Cookies, phone, candy wrappers. None of those were the ticket.
The ticket collector, who was looking very impatient and very tired, gave her a mean scowl. "Excuse me Mademoiselle, but if you don't have your ticket, I'm going to have to ask you,” Marinette started aggressively shaking her bag upside-down, “to get out of line."
“J-just a moment!” Marinette protested, shaking her bag harder all the while internally apologizing to Tikki for her rough treatment of her bag.
"Mari . . ." Alya was right behind her, ticket in hand. "What's the hold up? Everyone's waiting," she gestured back to the rest of their class. Alix, Ivan, and Max were the only ones who were already in the plane.
The trip to North America was behind schedule as it was. The plane the Parisian class was due to board arrived in the airport late, and it was a headache for Ms. Bustier and the chaperones to keep an eye on twenty-something students. To say everyone was irritated and ready to nap for the next week was an understatement.
"I can't find my ticket," Marinette whispered back. She paused her searching for a second to take a sneak peak at Adrien, who was chatting with Nino near the middle of the line. Marinette was helpless but to admit her crush was positively glowing in his summer wear, a solid-black tank top and shorts. Coupled with his gentle smile and brushed-back blond hair, he was unfairly gorgeous.
Truly she was blessed with such a view. Marinette sighed lovesickedly.
But when she looked back even further, her worst enemy, Chloe, came into view, and there was a sudden urge to vomit out her breakfast. The mayor’s daughter's high and tight ponytail and designer clothing were a dead giveaway to her presence on the trip. Because her bad luck always did her dirty, Chloe must have felt the fashion designer’s staring daggers at her, so the blonde whipped around and stared back with a malicious grin. With a dramatic flip of her hair, she opened her hand mirror and reapplied another layer of sticky pink lip gloss.
Marinette rolled her eyes and kept searching. No later than that, she felt a tiny, folded piece of paper tucked in the corner of her purse. Marinette pulled on it, and wham! Like magic, there was the ticket.
"Um . . . Monsieur . . . I have it," Marinette grinned awkwardly. The ticket collector sneered, checked the ticket, and stamped down on it hard before shoving it impolitely back into Marinette's arms.
“Merci,” Marinette made out before rushing toward the airplane in case anything else went wrong during check-in. Face flushed red in embarrassment, she cursed her extremely bad luck for striking again.
Luckily, without any stumble or slip, Marinette was able to find her first class seat with everyone else who was on the plane. She plopped on the seat next to the window and slowly zoned out to the background noise of airplane chatter and people shuffling farther back the plane.
Her gaze traveled to the empty seat beside her. The pairs were made randomly, so she prayed that she wouldn't get Chloe. Anyone but Chloe. She wouldn’t be able to bear a nine hour trip to the United States there and back with Chloe as her plane partner.
The gods must have heard her prayer because the voice she heard wasn't Chloe's.
"Hey, Marinette!" Wait a second. It couldn't be . . .
The only person who usually greets her like that would have to be-
As soon as she whirled her head around, Marinette's own blue eyes met with viridian green.
Yes, she was face to face with Adrien Agreste.
"Um . . . Hi," Marinette waved slightly and plastered a shiny smile on her face. Stiff as a board, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach were a force to be reckoned with.
Leaning on the outside seat, Adrien eyed the empty seat and checked his ticket. He sent another cheery smile to her, and Marinette almost swooned at its brilliance.
“I guess we’re next to each other?” He slid his carry-on bag under his presumed seat and made himself comfortable, tan legs casually crossed.
It took a moment for Marinette to realize she was staring at his toned legs, undoubtedly a result of fencing practice, for a solid fifteen seconds.
“Y-yeah!” She blurted out and swooped her face toward the window to hide her rising blush. “G-guess so!”
Thank heavens for the boy’s obliviousness to her escalating heart arrest because he only smiled brightly and pulled out his phone and earbuds.
The second his focus was on something else, Marinette did her best to relax. For every moment her organs squeezed too tight, there was an urge to wheeze, and every breath felt like she was sucking helium into her lungs. But at the same time, her heart felt light as if she was floating over clouds. She pressed the palms of her hands to her heated face and squealed, fighting the urge to kick the seat in front of her. Was this how a crush was supposed to feel? Has it truly been ages since her last encounter with love that she didn’t remember?
She tried her best to keep a straight face, but her mental fortitude immediately broke, and she immediately opened her purse just a crack to talk to Tikki.
To check for nosy eyes, Marinette glanced at Adrien briefly to see what he was doing. On his phone, he was twiddling his thumbs on some app or game, and his mouth was jutting out rather adorably in concentration. She sighed in relief. Looks like Adrien wouldn't notice.
"Tikki, I don't think I can do this,” she said the moment Tikki's red humanoid head popped up.
"You’re able to save Paris from supervillains everyday, but you can't sit next to your crush?" Tikki teased.
"They’re completely unrelated!" Marinette whispered-yelled, to which the kwami giggled.
"Take it as an opportunity to get to know him! Maybe then, he’ll start to like you too," Tikki squeaked before burrowing back in Marinette's purse to escape suspicion.
"Easy for you to say," Marinette muttered. As if someone like Adrien would ever be interested in someone like-
"Hmm?" Adrien inquired to her monologue, one earbud out. “Did you say something?”
"Gah . . . . Nothing!" Marinette exaggeratedly flailed her arms about and shaped her mouth in a hopefully reassuring smile. She was flooded by relief after Adrien merely shrugged and went back to swiping on his screen.
"Whew,” she sighed and leaned back against her chair. Being a superhero was harder than it looks. Most definitely.
A few minutes into the flight upon the airplane’s smooth and successful ascendance into the air, there was an awkward bout of silence between her and Adrien. Every now and then, Adrien would politely ask about her newest designs and make idle remarks on the view out the window, but it took all Marinette had to only nod to his observations with a strained smile.
But soon enough Marinette’s own superheroes made their special appearance.
She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around to find Alya striking a peace sign pose and her boyfriend, Nino Lahiffe, poking his face through the cracks of the plane seats. Only then did Marinette lower her guard and felt a natural grin form on her face.
"Yo, Adrien!" The DJ called, gently tugging on the blond’s earbud wires.
"Nino!" Adrien smiled, pocketing his device. "I didn't realize you guys were behind us."
"Well, we didn't realize you guys were in front of us," Alya responded in kind, to which the quartet of friends laughed. Truly, Marinette owed Alya. She and Nino always did find a way to lighten the tense mood.
For the next hour, the quartet of friends talked non-stop. From school to Alya’s hilarious ‘Chloe’ impersonation (“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S NO CHAI LATTE?! RIDICULOUS UTTERLY RIDICULOUS! SABRINA!”), the plane ride didn’t feel as long.
But then, Nino asked a question that had everyone on their toes.
"Say dude, you know how your old man is always so uptight sometimes?" Nino joked. The four friends shared a warm chuckle.
"That sounds like him," Adrien chagrined while rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed of his strict father. At his dejected face, briefly, Marinette wanted to comfort him.
On too many occasions, the esteemed Agreste fashion designer put his work first over his own son. That wasn’t to say Adrien had the same freedoms if not more freedoms as every other kid. In addition to flat-out neglecting his son, Adrien was restricted to the confines of his house for years with only his fencing, modeling, piano, and Mandarin lessons to keep the blond occupied. No birthday parties nor gifts, no friends (except Chloe), no school, and no fun. The list dragged on. As such, it was baffling that such a strict and overprotective father would permit his son to go to America without at least a few bodyguards.
"Alya and I were wondering," Nino trailed on, "how did you get him to let you go to America?"
"He didn't," Adrien said, and his three friends gasped in horror.
"Did you sneak out?" Alya shoved her jaw-dropped boyfriend out of the way in her persistence to try to solve this mystery. Golden boy Adrien Agreste sneaking out? To another country? It was unheard of. Suddenly, Marinette questioned everything she knew about her crush.
"Um . . . Sorta," Adrien ran his fingers through his brushed-back hair shyly in response to the direction this conversation was headed.
The silence was deafening, and a few seconds of sudden awkwardness returned. Nino and Alya exchanged murmurs that Marinette couldn't make out.
Just when Marinette was about to say something, anything to stop the nervous looks on their faces, Alya and Nino started cheering and crying fits of laughter and joy.
"Adrien! Oh my god! You naughty cinnamon roll!" Alya guffawed boisterously and smacked the palm of her hand into Marinette’s chair, earning a few glares from their sleeping classmates.
"Dude! Dude! Dude! I had no idea you were such a bad boy!" Nino playfully jabbed at his best friend’s shoulder and was on the verge of hyperventilating from uncontrollable laughter.
At that moment, Marinette heard muffled noises coming from Adrien's direction. He had his mouth covered by his hand to staunch the sweet as candy laughter escaping his throat. Because of his carefree smiles combined with her friends’ obnoxious chortles, Marinette finally let the giggles flow out.
"Wait," Alya stopped laughing, “then how did you get a signature for the permission slip?" Marinette racked her brain. Just what in the world did their so-called "perfect" golden boy do?
"Just thank Nathalie," Adrien said casually but his warm smile said otherwise. “I tried to convince Father to let me go, but he refused. After moping in my room for a while, Nathalie just came in and handed me the trip form." The heartwarming moment was planted strongly in his memories, and Adrien replayed it in his mind.
***
Adrien stroked the top of Plagg’s head as the kwami nibbled on some Camembert. At the blond’s saddened expression, Plagg nuzzled his face into Adrien’s chin, rubbing in the horrid stench of cheese. Unfazed, Adrien smiled fondly back, appreciative of the kwami’s attempt to comfort him.
His small smile made way to a scowl as thoughts of his father emerged. Deep down, Adrien understood his father prioritized his safety above all else, but Adrien could not help the frustration bubbling underneath his normally cold composure. Dejected, the blond thought he and his father were past this stage after his father permitted him to attend a public school, but it was too much to hope for.
Adrien rolled onto his back on the bed and dragged down his eyelids in exhaustion. What was he going to tell his friends?
All of a sudden, Adrien heard a soft knock on his door, and he jerked forward into a sitting position. He scowled at the thought of his father sending either Nathalie or his bodyguard with a new expensive gift to appease him.
“The least he could do is show up himself,” he grumbled and gestured at Plagg to hide.
"Come in," Adrien said, promptly turning his head away from his bedroom entrance.
To no one’s surprise, it wasn’t his father, and Adrien did his best to swallow his disappointment, but it tasted like bile.
The assistant came in swiftly, and her heels clicked against Adrien’s bedroom floor. Without a word, she handed Adrien a piece of paper, and he immediately recognized the paper as the permission slip to America.
"Nathalie? Did you convince my father to let me go?" Gleefully, the blond flipped through the pages to find the signature sheet; however, it wasn't his father's writing that filled the blank space. Instead, it was Nathalie's handwriting in an elegant and blue script. In shock and mild confusion, he made eye contact with her. "What are you-"
"Your mother would have wanted you to go," the assistant gave Adrien a small smile, “and technically as one of your legal guardians, I can give you permission to go on the trip."
“But what about Father?” Adrien questioned. The blond knew Nathalie was loyal to his father and his father alone, which was why her actions made no sense to him.
“I’ll handle Monsieur Agreste,” Nathalie said placatingly. “I know we’ve been harsh with you since your mother’s passing,” Adrien flinched at the mention of his late mother, and his eyes became misty. “But Adrien, you deserve the world and more, and I know I’d regret it if anything else was taken from you.”
Teardrops streaked Adrien's rosy cheeks. Without warning, he embraced Nathalie fiercely all the while sobbing uncontrollably. "T-thank you . . . Thank you so much." Their hug got even warmer when Nathalie placed her own hands behind Adrien's back.
Her embrace. It reminded him of a mother’s-
It was Nathalie who broke their hug first. Arms loosened, Adrien wiped at his face, but his sniffles yet to cease.
Nathalie set her hands on Adrien’s face. "Now promise me. Be safe. And have fun," she whispered. "And don't tell your father." She placed a finger on her lips to keep it their little secret. With a tuck of a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she left his room as emotionless as she was before.
***
"And yeah, that's basically what happened," Adrien concluded, completely ignorant of his friends' jaw-dropping faces.
"That was the most rad thing I've heard all day bro!" Nino ruffled Adrien's brushed hair, making it all shaggy.
"Totes!" Alya agreed.
Marinette couldn't help but be in awe of Adrien's strength. The boy went through tragedy after tragedy, more than Marinette could ever imagine. He had lost his mother, basically his father, and Chloe as a friend, but he kept smiling. This was no surprise to her. If anything, it was just another reason why she loved him. Another thing to add to her growing checklist.
After the airplane's landing and the class's departure from the foreign airport, Marinette was exhausted. They had been sitting in the airplane for at least nine hours and landed in the esteemed capital of the United States, a place called Washington D.C. Marinette had heard Miss Bustier saying that this location would be their state of residence for the next few days, and that one of their activities included a fireworks display near the White House courtyards. Apparently, Americans would celebrate their country’s independence from Great Britain on the Fourth of July with fireworks and barbecues. Now, Marinette wasn’t a lover of history, but she thought it was a nice tradition of theirs. It reminded her of France’s own Bastille Day on the fourteenth of July. She wondered if anyone made plans to celebrate yet.
Truly in Marinette’s eyes, America was as beautiful if not more beautiful as Paris itself with its country and culture flair and its unique people. In the early afternoon, the summer weather was near scorching, and no clouds casted shadows over the clear blue skies. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Marinette felt a light breeze tickle her cheeks, and a thrilling shiver ran down her spine.
"Girl!" Alya’s excited voice interrupted the tranquil feeling.
"Alya!" Marinette squeaked at her friend’s enthusiastic voice, which rang out in the peaceful atmosphere.
"This. Is. So. Exciting. Are you excited? Cause I am! Girl, I'm gonna blog my whole trip here to my fan base,” the blogger waved her phone in Marinette’s face, snapping photos left and right. “That should get me some more followers huh?" She gently jabbed Marinette's arm.
"Most definitely," Marinette beamed.
"By the way, Nino and I are going together to the fireworks show tonight! Are you gonna ask Adrien?" Alya smirked.
"What?! Alya, there's no way I can do that! I can barely talk to him without stuttering like a dorkasaurus!" Marinette whined.
Alya chuckled. "Well girl, here's your first chance,” she pointed in front of them and without a doubt the two boys were headed their way.
"Ah!" Marinette whispered-screamed. "There's no way I can-"
"Hey,” Adrien waved. Marinette noticed the sky blue scarf wrapped around his neck. The exact same scarf she made him for his last birthday. Did she dare to breathe-
"Sup,” Nino greeted.
Alya went right to the point, roughly shoving Marinette a bit forward and a bit closer. "Adrien. There was something that Marinette wanted to ask you."
While Marinette vyed to not murder her best friend for her teasing remarks, if Marinette was an assassin, Alya would most definitely be at the top of her hit list now.
"Sure, what is it?" Adrien's electric green eyes seemed to bore into Marinette's soul. Stars, he was stunning-
Marinette took a deep breath to steady some of her butterfly nerves, but her feet noticeably shifted from one to the other repeatedly. "I-I . . . Well-”
"ADRIKINS!" A shriek from Chloe was all it took to grab everyone's attention. She prattled on over, shoved Marinette aside, and grasped Adrien's arm tightly to mark the blond as a possession of hers.
This was everyone's reaction: Marinette scowled with her arms crossed, Adrien groaned and plastered a weak smile, Nino just shook his head and rolled his eyes, Alya face-palmed, and Chloe smiled deliriously.
"Adrikins," Chloe said naughtily, “Miss Bustier said that we were going to a luxurious restaurant for lunch. Sit with me, okay?" With that, she strutted off without waiting on an answer and dragged Adrien in tow. Adrien turned back, shooting an apologetic look to his friends before heading off with Chloe with an almost comical expression of dread.
That did it, Marinette fumed. Chloe’s charade just made Marinette snap. Determination took control of her mind and judgment. She was going to ask Adrien out for the show even if it was the last thing she did. She asked Alya and Nino for help and they immediately agreed. Operation Fireworks was officially a go.
During lunch at the luxurious restaurant called McDonalds, Marinette tried asking him there only to be cut off by Chloe shoving a chicken nugget into Adrien's mouth and forcing him to chew. At the White House tour, the tour guide led the Parisian class through a hall consisting of historical documents originating from the 16th century. After Ms. Bustier tasked the class to take notes, Marinette tried to ask her crush again but became stuck in a "three's a crowd" situation when Chloe dragged the model to look at a picture of the United States's first president, George Washington.
While the class was out window-shopping and buying take-out for dinner, an hour before the fireworks display, Marinette tried to ask Adrien again after Alya and Nino distracted Chloe with a shiny designer purse in one of the shopping districts. To no avail, and with no shock, Chloe interrupted her attempt for the billionth time today. The mayor’s daughter all but threw herself at Adrien and forced him to hold onto her concerningly large amount of shopping bags while chatting like a desperate hyena in his company.
"I give up!" Marinette moaned in grievance as she threw herself into a nestle of grassy weeds. People have gathered in front of the White House and were fighting over places to rest and watch the show. It was due to start in fifteen minutes, and Marinette still didn’t ask him.
That was it. She gave in. Marinette was fed up with dealing with Chloe's pesky and annoying cut-offs whenever she tried to have a conversation with Adrien. She was done. The fire that fueled her determination was doused, and a rush of exhaustion was all that was left.
She had chosen a spot underneath one of the cherry blossom trees a few meters away from the rest of her class. Marinette noticed Alya and Nino cuddling next to each other, pointing out to each other the glimmering stars that aligned the black sky.
“At least they’re having fun,” she muttered softly. She was genuinely happy for her friends.
It was a peaceful night much to Marinette's enjoyment. A massive change in pace to the stressful vacation day. Surely, it wouldn't be too bad spending the night alone right? Pfft, who was she fooling? Marinette felt . . . lonely. She wanted to share her first day in America with someone. Anyone. She just needed to vent so badly, but her two closest friends were over there having fun . . . without her. And the boy she wanted to be with was-
"Hey,” a gentle voice called out to her, snapping her out of her miserable mood. Marinette lifted her head and saw her crush standing there with an awkward smile. "Mind if I sit down?" He gestured next to her.
Marinette nodded, scooting over to make room. On closer inspection, she saw his eyebags and slouched posture, signaling he was as exhausted as her. From what, Marinette was unsure, but she was worried all the same. Even in his tired-out state, he stole her breath away. But, she was in no mood to acknowledge the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She wrapped her arms around her face, hiding her own weariness. Marinette was secretly glad for his company though. It made her loneliness gradually ease.
"I was looking all over for you." Marinette turned to face him. Him? Looking for her? Hilarious.
"What for?" Marinette murmured softly. Her confusion must have been clear from her facial expression because he chuckled.
"Well, it seemed as though you wanted to ask me something."
"It was nothing," Marinette tried to convince herself.
"Anyone could tell you're lying, Princess." Princess? The nickname was vaguely familiar to her. Did someone else also call her that? No, couldn't be.
"I just,” Marinette paused for a second to collect her thoughts and quickly scanned behind him in every direction to ensure there were no other distractions. It was then she observed Chloe telling off a poor American man for spilling his ketchup-stained fries on her white attire in colorful French, to which the American’s face was a mix of apologetic and confusion. The sight made her stifle a giggle.
Marinette faced Adrien again, eyes of blue locking on green. At his patient countenance, she desperately tried to ignore the soft look he was exuding. At the sight of his golden hair tousling in the brisk wind, she wanted to run her fingers through them so badly, but she contained herself. Come on Mari, it was now or never.
"I wanted to ask if you’d watch the fireworks show with me!" She said in a rush, too scared of messing up. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. What would be his answer?
"Well, since you asked so nicely, how could I refuse?"
Marinette’s eyes widened. Did he just say yes?! She felt her mouth form a brilliant smile. To her elation, Adrien smiled back.
"After all, we're friends right?" Oh, with that, her heart started to plummet. But, this meant progress! They just exited the awkward zone and entered the friend zone.
"Yeah, friends," Marinette blushed. Unbeknownst to her, Tikki was secretly pumping her fist up and down in the fashion designer’s bag.
Just like that, the sweet moment was over. The speakers laid across the White House courtyard screeched to a raspy static from a microphone’s feedback, grabbing the crowd's impatient attention. "Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice said in English, to which Marinette and Adrien stood up to hear the announcement, “We would like to extend to you our gratitude for your continued patronage and patience. Without further ado, we proudly present to you this year’s annual White House Fireworks Showcase! Happy Fourth of July!"
Gunfire popped. Marinette’s eyes followed the fading line of sparkles into the center of the sky and was taken aback at the explosion of colors. At the crackling, groups of people cheered as more fireworks blew up. And then a second round came, sparkled, and went. And then a third round. There was no way to explain it. The anticipation of the sizzling gunfire, that rush of adrenaline at that faint white line of light, and finally the excitement at seeing your favorite colors light up the night sky. Each firework rivaled all of the stars in the firmament.
Marinette didn’t know which was louder. The booms and rebounds of each popping firework or the exhilarating cheers of the country’s people, a sign of their happiness. In this instant, Marinette couldn't help but wonder what everyone back in Paris was doing at this time. Because here, they were celebrating America's day of independence.
Marinette wished she brought her sketchpad with her. The fireworks display was truly the most amazing sight Marinette had ever seen. There were a variety of each kind of fireworks. She saw fountains, which showered gold sparks. She saw rockets exploding into wheels of color. She saw Roman candles dancing in the stars until each faded into the dark. And her absolute favorite, sparklers ran past her like comets. Each different firework gave her inspiration for clothes she’d design back home.
Face lit from colors of all kinds, Marinette was pushed a few steps back as a burst of gale swooped past the crowd and blew a trail of cherry blossoms through the wistful air. It was as if the world was in slow motion. In awe, the fashion designer watched as the pink petals delicately circled around her like butterfly wings. Out of the corner of her eye, she observed her crush reaching out to the petals but each one flew out of his grasp. Entrapped by sakura blossoms, it was as if the petals were pushing her closer to Adrien.
For once in her life, Marinette chose to not question it.
Gently, she grabbed ahold of the blond’s hand and spun him around, causing the pink flowers to spin in succession. Lost in their own little world, the duo twirled like ballerinas in the trillions of blowing Japanese rose-colored petals. The crisp night smelled sweet and reassuring from the blossoms. Like they were saying the world was in perfect harmony. Adrien stared at Marinette's face which was brighter than the moon as they continued to spin without a care in the world.
"Happy Fourth of July, Marinette."
"Happy Fourth of July, Adrien."
"Boom. Boom. Boom. Even brighter than the moon. Moon. Moon . . . Cause baby you're a firework!"- Katy Perry, Firework