Chapter Text
Marinette sighed loudly as she looked over her bills for the fifth time, her heart sinking a little lower each time. No matter how many times she perused it, the large sum at the bottom stayed the same. I just don’t understand, how can just rent, water, and electricity cost that much? She wondered to herself. Either way, it didn’t matter, she had to pay it even though it would mean she’d have to find another way to get to work besides driving. It was either that or go without electricity for the next month. A feeling of defeat washed over her, tears of frustration beginning to pool in her eyes.
She had done everything right, she went to college and got good grades and earned her degree. That alone was supposed to ensure her a steady job and higher income, but trying to work your way up in the fashion industry wasn’t easy. And it didn’t pay well. But she was following her dream, right? Doing what her generation had been taught to strive for since she could talk? Oh well, she knew there was no use griping about it now. She just had to pay her bills and get over it, perhaps she could negotiate a raise?
Marinette didn’t know if she could do that, let alone if she should. Mary was by far the best boss she’d had, and it was a shame she only got to work with her when a show was in Paris. Mary always paid her higher than any employer normally would for a temporary rep, and gave her plenty of breaks and lee-way if something went wrong. Plus her teenage daughter, Willow (who somehow managed to go with her mother to these shows although she missed school), was super fun to hang out with if things were going slowly. Marinette would feel extremely guilty taking advantage of the one boss she liked, so she threw that option out the window.
Her thinking was interrupted by the familiar buzz of her cell phone, cutting into her frantic thoughts like a hot knife through butter. Relieved for the distraction, she saw her best friend Alya was calling. Putting the bill down on the coffee table, she took a deep breath and answered.
“Hey Alya.”
“Hey girl, whatcha doing right now?”
“Going through bills, honestly I have no idea how I wracked up this much in electricity! I’m mostly at work all day!” She groaned and slapped her hand against her forehead.
“Trust me Mari, I feel you. I expect my electricity to be high but my water really shouldn’t be as expensive as it is considering I only use it for hygienic purposes, I am the queen of paper plates and plastic cups.” Her best friend chuckled.
“I’ve been to your house enough times to know that to be extremely true.” Marinette teased her, laughing as well. “So what did you wanna talk about?”
“I offer you a distraction from your money-related worries my dear.”
“Oh can we go drinking? It’d be nice to get drunk, actually that might not be so great for my wallet…” Marinette trailed off, wondering how much she should be spending on recreational stuff.
“Well, not exactly drinking. Let me ask, do you still remember all that fight training of yours?” Marinette was taken off guard by the question. She had taken self-defense lessons when she was a teenager, which opened the door to street fighting lessons. Marinette had actually gotten pretty good, although she had never had much chance to use her skills.
“It’d be hard to forget four years worth of lessons. I might not be as perfect in form as I used to but I can still knock you flat on your ass.” She said, laughing at the truth behind the words. Alya knew very well that Marinette could take care of herself, her punch was a rather nasty one.
“Oh don’t I know it. Well guess what I heard about through the grapevine? Someplace where you can kick some ass to let off some steam, as well as earn cash. Ever seen the movie Fight Club with Brad Pitt?” Alya’s voice had taken on a conspiratorial tone. Marinette could practically see her evil grin from over the phone.
“Someone’s made a fight club? We all know how that turned out for Tyler Durden.” Marinette smiled to herself at the reference to the cult classic film.
“Exactly! Well, without Tyler Durden and all his crazy shit of course. And this one is open to guys and girls, and I’ve heard it’s actually fun and a good way to make some quick bucks.”
“So you wanna go get the shit beat out of you?”
“No! I want you to go beat the shit out of some people while I make us rich by betting on you!” Alya said excitedly. Marinette groaned, realizing this had been her plan all along.
“I’m your money-maker.” She said flatly.
“We’d split the profits, and from what it sounds like you could certainly use some extra cash.”
“Since I’d be the one fighting, why would you get a cut of the money?”
“Who’s gonna drive you there and back and take you out to dinner afterwards numbnuts? Anyway I’ll place other bets independent of you. Come on, what do you say? This’ll be a good way to let off steam.” Alya was pleading and for reasons Marinette would never understand, she said yes.
“Fine but if my coworkers find out I will blame it all on you. And you better take me out to get drunk afterwards.” Alya laughed.
“If you don’t want anyone at work finding out then wear a mask dummy. I’ve heard others do. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes so be ready!” And with that, Marinette heard a click and Alya had hung up. Putting the phone down and burying her hands in her face, Marinette wondered why in the world she agreed to doing this. But she had to admit, it’d be nice to punch someone again to let out her anger. Standing up, she began to rummage through her closet in search of an identity hiding costume.