Chapter Text
The sky was dark, as if the sun had been blocked out by smoke. It was a good day for things to go bad. But, as I hear, things often go bad in Paris. I wouldn't know, I had just gotten off the train an hour ago. No one would miss me. I didn't matter. I would be starting school tomorrow but I knew I had to find a place to stay. I had some money saved from my bigger jobs but I would need a job in order to live here. On the way to Paris from Cuba, I contemplated my decision at least twice. But each time, I convinced myself to keep going. I needed to be sure that I wasn't alone. That Ladybug and Chat Noir were real.
“I'm… I'm kind of scared, Arra. What if… what if they're just weirdos in homemade costumes? What if… we really are… alone,” I said softly to my coat pocket. My Kwami, small and yellow-green with a chameleon tail, peeked out of my pocket and smiled at me.
“Don't worry. I know Plagg and Tikki; we were friends decades ago until one of my holders moved. If they're real, I would be able to tell. And if they're not, we always have each other! Just like always,” she smiled and went back into hiding. I dropped a raspberry in my pocket for her and walked down the street. I really didn't know where I was but maybe if I kept wandering around I would find a place to rest.
“How much money do we have?” I asked her when I saw a bakery. I was having a bit of trouble reading the letters on the window but I saw a tall, hefty man putting out fresh bread and a smaller woman (probably Asian) taking the empty plates out back.
“Enough for a few weeks. You should eat. You can't survive on berries alone,” Arra said just loud enough for me to hear. I nodded and slowly walked into the shop. I took in the smell of the breads and sweets and the kind expression on the baker’s face.
“Good afternoon! Is there anything you have your eye on?” the man asked. I noticed flour caked under his nails and on his blue shirt. You could tell nothing about my day from my appearance, except that I was carrying a lumpy knapsack on my shoulder and I looked like I hadn't had any sleep in the last twenty-four hours. But I knew my expression was cold, hollow. Empty and hostile. It was my default expression when I didn't know someone and I had nothing to get out of them. But he didn't seem phased by my unfriendliness.
“I… I just got here. An hour ago. I'm from out of the country. My French is bad. Sorry. I would like the… um…” I said, stumbling over my words. I was more practiced in my English but even then, it wasn't very good. I had stolen year one and two French and English books a few years ago so I had never progressed. I understood better than I spoke. But I spoke pretty mediocrely.
“You look about my daughter's age! She's in her last year of school. Perhaps she could show you around,” he said to me slowly, so I was sure to understand. I thought about it and I had read on the train that Ladybug probably went to the school around here. Maybe I could use their daughter to help find her. I nodded slowly and stuck my hand in my pocket to touch Arra’s scaly little head. She wrapped her nubby arms around my finger to comfort me.
“Yes. Thank you. My name is… is… Élodie. Élodie Beaumont,” I lied. Okay, it technically wasn't a lie. I had legally changed my name last year so I would fit in better here and so I would have no more connection to the mother who gave me up. But it wasn't the name I was born with. The small Chinese woman with short black hair came back in and smiled at me. Their friendliness made my skin crawl. It was completely foreign to me.
“While you're here, would you like something to eat? Do you have a place to stay? Are your parents with you? My name is Tom Dupain, this is my wife Sabine Dupain-Cheng,” the baker told me, still speaking somewhat slowly. I nodded again.
“Marinette said the movie was almost over and would be coming back soon. I overheard you so I told her to expect someone about her age here waiting,” Sabine smiled and I nearly squeezed Arra in my hand.
“I would… I would like to buy that… um… cookie,” I said, trying to remember the word. It was a lot harder to be quick-witted and sassy in a language you weren't well-rehearsed in. I sounded like I had some sort of speech impediment.
Sabine just took my hand and led me upstairs. I nearly cringed away at the touch but I knew I shouldn't. I had to pretend I wasn't broken.
She allowed me to sit on the couch and put a plate of croissants on the table, giving me the indication to eat. I looked out the window and saw it was getting darker. It would be six o’clock soon. Sabine informed me that she needed to help close up shop with Tom so I nodded and she left. Arra came out of my pocket and floated in front of my face, my cheeks stuffed with bread.
“They're very kind, Élodie. Perhaps you could be nicer?” she teased me. I swallowed the mouthful of buttery bread to speak.
“I don't trust them, Arra. I start school tomorrow and you know I don't have time for this. I need to find Ladybug and Chat Noir,” I sighed. Speaking Spanish with Arra felt a lot more comfortable.
“You need to live your life too. I know you did when you were young, but since you stumbled upon that Ladyblog, it's like you're obsessed,” she sighed and sat on the table next to the plate. I looked down, knowing I sounded crazy.
“I just… I don't want to feel alone anymore. I want them to like me. I… you know I can't go back to Havana. And I'm in Paris. I… feel… empty, Arra. I want a family. Maybe… maybe fighting with them will fill that hole,” I looked at my hands. They were not very tan and really anyone who looked at me wouldn't be able to tell I was Latina. My eyes were green, my hair was dark and curly, and my skin was on the lighter side of tan. I didn't look like much anything at all.
“If you want to fill the hole, you need to let people in. Stop being so standoffish with people. Let people know the real you.”
“Who is that? The orphan girl who was turned into a model just because they wanted a cheap child? Or the DJ who stayed up late to earn money? Or the painter with no money for her medium? I am a jack-of-all-trades but master of none with no parents to speak of and only a few hundred dollars to my name. That's not a way to win friends,” I finally looked at her and she buried her face in my chest and I hugged her as best as I could.
“Be all of them. They're all you,” she said softly and bolted back into my pocket when we heard footsteps. I stood up, ready to jump out the window if I needed to. But the only ones who walked through the door were Sabine and a girl taller than her with her black hair in pigtails and piercing blue eyes. She was so beautiful I nearly dropped. She had the same friendly eyes as her parents and they weren't as closed as her mother’s. I noticed her pink jeans looked pretty new, which only meant they didn't have holes. Unlike my pants. I didn't know what to say and I already had trouble articulating myself in French.
“Hi! I'm Marinette! My papa said you're new to the country? Where are you from?” she asked but I didn't know what to say. I just stared at her. Her mother said we could go into Marinette’s room if it would make me more comfortable. The only thing that would make me comfortable would be jumping out of the window but I didn't say that.
I was led up another flight of stairs to what I assume was Marinette's room. It was very… pink. With pictures of this one specific model covering her walls. Her face turned red when she noticed me looking at them and started to take them down quickly.
“It's fine. I don't mind. They're beautiful,” I said but from her reaction, I probably said something different. I went back over what I said and realised that instead of saying “they're beautiful” I had said “you're beautiful”. I started to go into apologies but she just laughed and brushed it off.
“Your French isn't great, I can see. But that's okay. You can take as much time as you need to respond. Élodie, right? That's a pretty name. Where are you planning on going to school? If you actually are around my age, that is,” she smiled, slowly starting to put the pictures of the blond boy back on her walls.
“May I use your phone?” I asked and she handed it over. I found a translation app and used it to respond.
“Yes. Élodie. My French is bad. I am from Cuba. I only know two years of French but I understand more than I speak. I can understand pretty well. I tried to learn more on the plane ride and on the train. It's still not good. I am seventeen, eighteen in two months. There is a school a few blocks away that I have registered for. I will be starting tomorrow,” the mechanical voice sounded terrible and flat, I wondered how she could understand it.
“I go there too! I could introduce you to my class. But it's kind of late. I need to work on my Literature paper and my designs for this fashion contest I'm in. You can sleep on my couch if you want. The bathroom is just downstairs. Are those your clothes?” she peeked around me at my knapsack that was at my lower back. I nodded.
“Did you move with your parents? Are they here?” she asked, remembering to speak a bit slower. I shook my head. I remembered I had failed to answer that question when her parents asked. Because Arra told me to make friends, I decided to tell her the truth. I learned the hard way that I should probably listen to her as often as I could.
“Gone. Don't know them. I'm alone.”
Marinette's pretty face fell a bit but tried not to show it much in case her pity might upset me. I recognised the expression. Many people I opened up to about it had the same expression.
“I could help. With the contest. I modelled as a child. I don't mind,” I said but looked at the door on the floor. “Bathroom first?”
“That would actually be helpful! Thank you. Yes, of course,” she smiled again and I went to the bathroom. I washed my face and ran my fingers through my short curly hair. I had it a little past my chin so I could tie it back if I wanted. I wasn't exactly pretty but I was sure I could serve her purposes. My jaw was too square to be feminine and my nose was long. I looked more androgynous than anything. I finished up and Arra looked at me but didn't say anything for a bit.
“It's just for tonight. As a way of saying thank you. Then we're not sleeping here tomorrow. It's too risky,” I said but she gave me a wordless annoyed look.
I made my way back upstairs and Marinette turned to me as if she were startled.
“I'm sorry?” I muttered and she shook her head and smiled again. I didn't know what was up but I wasn't coming back tomorrow so it wasn't my business.
She set me up in a pose and handed me the raw material she was using that had a few pins in it but nothing more. I made sure not to move much so I wouldn't get pinned but once it was well past eleven at night and I hadn't slept in two days so I could reset my sleep schedule, I told her I needed to sleep if I was to be meeting anyone tomorrow.
We got ready for bed and I curled up under the blanket she gave me.
“So… does the blond boy go to your school?” I asked, thinking of the words beforehand. “The one on your walls?”
“Yeah. His name is Adrien Agreste. He's… amazing,” she said, her voice taking on a daydream like sound.
“He looks a bit like… that hero, Chat Noir. But I really haven't… seen much… of either of them. Just on the Internet and on your walls,” I said thoughtfully. The jawline was the same but the Ladyblog didn't have good footage of the duo’s male half. But to me, anyone could be Chat. Everyone was a possibility.
“Oh no! They're totally different! Chat is flirty and wild and he thinks he's funny with his cat puns but he's also pretty caring and selfless. Adrien is smart and a gentleman and sweet to everyone and a genuinely reserved, good-natured guy. There's no way he could be Chat. Why do you ask?” Marinette's voice seemed curious but not suspicious. I could work with that.
“Oh there's… just this blog following Ladybug… and her partner Chat Noir. I was just curious, is all. It comes up when you search for Paris. Did you know there's a similar person in Cuba? They don't know the gender because they're not seen very often, but the people call them… Chameleon,” I said and Arra nibbled my finger as a sort of warning. Marinette didn't respond but I heard her shift in bed.
“I just think it's cool. That people in different countries can be so similar,” I said as best as I could.
“Yeah that does sound cool. But we need to be up early tomorrow for school. Good night, Élodie,” she said a little too quickly and I could hear her roll over so I knew the conversation was over. I guess gloomy days brought good luck here. I pulled the blanket up to my chin so Arra could sleep undetected on my stomach and fell asleep.