Chapter Text
[LUKA]
Luka hummed quietly as he toyed with his guitar. His new creation was perfect, aside from the much-needed tuning.
The guitar's appearance was fairly traditional for an electric guitar. The only thing that really stood out about it was the glimmering pink finish and a hot pink rose etched into its base. His sister needed a gift for her girlfriend's birthday, and he offered to custom-make her a guitar so she could practice more.
"Juleka," He called, "Would Rose want to tune it herself, or would she rather we do it for her?"
She peeked her head in his door.
"She'd probably want you to teach her," she muttered.
"Sounds good."
He placed it on the only vacant guitar stand.
"Want me to make a custom pick, too?"
Juleka's head perked up and a smile crossed her face.
"Nope, I made one myself!" She exclaimed proudly. It was the loudest Luka had heard her speak in quite a long time.
"Good job, Jule. I'm proud of you."
She smiled again, this time more shy.
"Thank you."
Juleka slipped out of his room.
Bzzt
His phone buzzed. It was from Marinette.
Mari———————Luka
M:SOS!! Unlock door ASAP
L:What's going on?
M:Will explain
L:Ok
—
He shook his head. Marinette was always the dramatic type.
~~~~~~
[Y/N]
You slumped into the desk chair of your new apartment. You were supposed to be writing lyrics to show to your new boss, but your head came up empty. You groaned.
You knew that the quickest way back home was to get everything done, but you couldn't help trying to protest this change. Sure, your river of creativity was flowing about as quick as old well water, but this wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you asked for change. You were thinking of some new friends, a hobby, hell- even a class! But getting up one day and moving to Paris? Absolutely not.
You knew that your parents just wanted what was best for you, but this REALLY wasn't it. How could spontaneously leaving your entire life behind help you? You weren't ready to go to another country all by yourself.
Was it wonderful to be able to spend time with one of your favorite musicians? Absolutely. Would you rather it be in your home town with all of your friends? ABSOLUTELY!
You knew that you needed a break from brainstorming, and wondered if it would be a good idea to go out for some snacks. The surprisingly large weekly allowance your parents gave you would come in handy after all. The program paid for all living expenses other than groceries, so your parents decided to send you enough money for both food and luxuries. You were enjoying your new journals and fountain pens quite a bit. The pen's ink, however, did prove to be quite pricey.
You searched for bakeries near you in your phone's GPS.
There was one that caught your eye, despite it being farther from you than a few others. It had 4 1/2 stars.
The pictures of the pastries looked perfect. Better than what you'd seen in the US. You decided that you'd head there as soon as possible.
You looked at your full body and debated on changing into some real clothes. You tussled with your own brain for a few seconds before deciding against it. Who would you see at a bakery at 7 pm anyway?
The purple electric scooter provided to you buy your boss was safely tucked in the tiny one-car garage attached to the complex. Technically, this garage was supposed to be shared by your roommate, but you didn't seem to have one yet. That, or they're very good at sneaking around.
The spiked helmet that looked like it was for a little boy was a little tight (and albeit pretty ridiculous looking). You made a mental note to buy one with your next allowance deposit.
Once you got comfortable and closed the garage door, you were off. The only thing that could come between you and those pastries was god himself. Oh, and also traffic, but that wasn't too bad considering how late it was.
The bakery was on a cute little corner, and at the very top of the building was a balcony. The familiar ding of American convenience stores filled your ears as you walked in; The smell of fresh-baked bread took your attention away immediately.
The displays were mostly barren, but you could tell that a few were just recently restocked.
"Hello!" A blue-haired girl chimed, "What can I get for you?"
"Hmm," You hummed.
"What would you recommend?"
She seemed a little taken aback by your question, or maybe your voice. You hadn't exactly perfected the French language, let alone the accent.
"Probably the macarons. That or the chocolate croissants, those two are my favorites."
Whatever had surprised her she chose not to comment on.
"I'll take a few of both then," You smiled.
Soon enough, you were at home munching on some sweet treats. You'd have to go there again in the morning when they're fresh. Not that they weren't good- in fact, you couldn't picture how amazing they must be fresh if they're that tasty when stale.