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“Okay. I have been in this estate around five times now, dude. Nothing should surprise me. How the hell did I not notice you practically had a projection booth in here?”
Heaving another box out of the way and wiping the sweat off of his brow, Adrien just looked over at Nino (who’s jaw was currently one hinge away from dropping to the floor) with a knowing quirked grin.
The room in the attic wasn’t large by any means; a closed-off section behind a few of the family safes, a red interior covered by walls of tapes and DVDs. They ranged from home movies to archaic footage of his mother and father’s school days, modeling entries from various generations. Tucked away in the corner was an old-school projector, right down to the gleaming rust on the wheel. Adrien was more focused on the television set in the center, however.
He took a seat on the floor. “Wow. A real film buff, eh?”
Nino pointed to the headphones around his neck, returning the grin tenfold. “You have your old man’s voice ringing in your ears about prospects in modelling, but, my friend, I am much more content for my ears to listen to the sweet sound of original film soundtracks.”
“Nino, that’s my Dad you’re talking about. He’s not that bad.”
“So why not ring him up and tell him your wonderful friend Nino–you know the same friend who dared try to convince him to allow his son to have a birthday party–is here to snoop around at a closed-off part of the mansion with you?”
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, relenting almost immediately. Whilst his father had… considerably softened to the idea of Adrien being in “correspondence” with Nino (the term was horribly outdated, but it was better than being forbidden to see him), and friends such as Marinette had eased him on the type of influence he was around, it was still like treading on eggshells made of glass.
Baby steps. Learning to walk around his father again. This time, though, his mother’s hands weren’t there to show him the way. To keep him steady through the turbulence.
“Yeah, alright, dude. I get it.” With a sigh, Nino sat down beside him, propping up a knee and resting his arm on it. “You can’t keep this up just to appease your Pa, but I won’t question the weird methods you’re going about things by. Everyone has coping mechanisms. Just promise keep me posted, alright?”
Adrien rolled his eyes, though his heart warmed at the concern. “Yeah, yeah, I will do, mother hen.”
“And proud to be, dude.”
Rolling his eyes, Adrien let the conversation trail off into the dust as he began to sort through some more boxes.
His father had not stepped foot in this room since his Mother was no longer in their lives, Adrien knew that much, but the thing was? Curiosity was part-in-parcel, a natural thing in the mind of a teenager with a subdued, polite approach when it came to rebellion on the outset. In his head, it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, and restrictions were grating on him more than living up to the expectations of his father.
And if the forgiveness ranged for some much-needed nostalgia and curiousity-sating, then Adrien didn’t give a damn.
As Chat Noir, Adrien was never surprised at how quickly he traveled through the passage of time. Gliding on the golden-hued cityscape and trying to protect the mundane and ordinary (as Ladybug had put it; extravagance, in comparison, to him, was not gilded cages like mansions or cluttered bedrooms; it was her smile) was one thing–
Spending four hours browsing through old videos was another.
“…and, man, did you see the lighting on that? I’ve seen better lighting from 1920′s silent films! Did they serious record this on their phones?”
Nino’s “subtle” critique when it came to the amateur modelling videos constructed by hopeful applicants wanting to work underneath his father.
(Or, in the case of one young man, Adrien could tell he was putting a little too much hope on physical appeal and the potential pair wandering eyes of his father. No wonder it was pushed to the back.)
Adrien chuckled, clicking his back and sighing when he felt a satisfying Pop! of his shoulder blades. “Laurel and Hardy?”
“Practically the concept art for slapstick today, my friend.”
“Pretty sure that’s not true,” Adrien resisted a yawn, “but it’s not like I’d know. I do need to get up-to-date with films, though.”
“Well, me and Alya were gonna go catch a flick…” Nino toyed with the wire on his headphones. “You could come, if you wanted.”
“…Seriously, Nino.” Adrien dead-panned. “I appreciate the offer, but that screams third-wheel.”
“Okay, then take Mari. It’ll be like… a-a double date. Plus, Alya wouldn’t refuse. …Actually, thinking about it, it’ll probably end up with those two girls on a date more than me and my actual girlfriend.” A wistful sigh left his lips. “One day, I hope she loves me as much as that girl…”
Meanwhile, Adrien mastered the art of conversation. “…Uh, Mari?”
“Yeah? You like her, right?”
Like a fish-hook had caught his brow in the sea of confusion, Adrien couldn’t help but stare at Nino like a fish out of water. “It wouldn’t matter if I did like her. I don’t want to drag her to something where she’ll just feel uncomfortable. She can barely hold a conversation with me! She’s probably intimidated because of the Agreste name in the first place… or she still feels weird because of how we met.” He shook his head. “No, I’m not going to rope her into that just because you don’t want to leave me out… uh, Nino, why are you grinning at me like that?”
“…”
His grin stretched so wide, Adrien was sure he could see the bones of Nino’s jaw. He felt a shudder run up his spine. “Seriously, Nino. Cut it out.”
“Hah, sorry, dude. At least you’re not completely blind.”
Adrien frowned as he watched Nino stand up. “Blind…?”
“Man, my legs feel so numb. This is the price I get for helping out my son…”
“Nino. I’m two months older than you.”
“Don’t talk to your new father that way.” Adrien groaned and shook his head, though he couldn’t hide his amusement at Nino’s obvious discomfort. The poor guy even started running on the spot to get the blood flowing back into his legs.
“If you didn’t sit so weird, you wouldn’t have cut off the circulation.”
“Don’t be smart with Papa.” Another shudder ran up Adrien’s spine. Nino began to stretch, taking a step forward. “And anyway, you–ah!”
Feet crossing with a few wires, Adrien’s eyes shot open when he suddenly heard a crash! where Nino had once been standing, and stood up to inspect the damage.
“Nino?!”
Covered in old video tapes and rubbing his neck, Nino gave Adrien a thumbs up. “…’s all cool, dude. Did you get it on tape?”
“You’re impossible…” Adrien just pulled Nino up without another word, the latter dusting himself off, before glancing over at the damage.
“The hell did I even fall over, anyway?”
“Just a bunch of tapes.” Adrien could already feel the lecture, anxiety spiking when Nino crouched down. “Come on, Nino, that probably roused Natalie’s worries enough. We should get going after we clean it all up.”
“………….”
“Uh, Nino? You heard what I said, right?” Adrien tugged at his shoulder.
“Bro.” Nino held up a tape. “I think you need to watch this.”
“We’ve already seen–”
“Adrien, this has your name on it.”
Silence washed over Adrien as he took the old tape into his hands, glancing at the old tape. Dust covered every nook-and-cranny. What struck him most was the handwriting on the faded sticky-label, and for a moment, he could have sworn he felt his heart blossom and wilt in the space of a second. For Adrien. Rushed and barely incomprehensible, yet somehow elegant flicks were at the end of each letter.
His body began to shake, even when Nino’s grounding hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.
“Adrien?”
Nino’s voice was quieter than usual.
“The handwriting. This… is my Mom’s.”
“…Oh.” Nino glanced at the tape, his hand gently squeezing Adrien’s shoulder. “You didn’t know it was here.”
“Father never told me, no. Or maybe she hid it somewhere where he wouldn’t find it…” He brought the tape closer to his heart. “He had most videos of her locked away after she… uh, well. He couldn’t bear to hear her voice.”
“Low, man.” Nino gave Adrien a nudge. “You going to…?”
Silence fell over him.
Then, with his voice ironclad, he decided. “Just because Dad couldn’t bear to hear her voice,” he took a deep breath. “Doesn’t mean I have to live without the reminder. Spielberg, ready the equipment.”
For once, Nino didn’t protest the nickname.
Lights, camera, action.
Quintessential components for any recorded material.
But for this moment, the lights were switched off. Only the glare of the television screen lit up Adrien’s eyes. The video itself was old, probably using a fledgling camera in the world of cinematic recording devices. The action was Nino pushing the video into the player, pressing the play button, and sitting back with a hand on Adrien’s shoulder.
Green caught in a watery haze, Adrien saw fields of gold.
…Long ago, memories were made of grainy footage, and voices were caught in a sea of static genuine domesticity, where she sits on the beach veranda, golden hair blowing in the wind as she waves to the gulls riding the sea breeze…
“…It is beautiful here, isn’t it, Adrien?”
“…Is that your Mom?”
Adrien’s mouth had gone like sandpaper. maybe some grains from the beach in the videos had blown into his throat. He could barely manage a stiff nod.
And she cradles you in the warmth of her womb, hands overlain on her protruding belly as if she can see exactly where you lay on her breast three months from now.
“No matter what Gabriel says, your name is Adrien.” A soft laugh leaves her pink, chapped lips. It comes through on static through the old camera. “He still wishes to have his way and call you “Felix”. That is too much of a posh name, isn’t it? My precious child… I know your father will never bring himself to watch this video. So these words are for you alone.”
Adrien watched with bated breath. Nino was gifted with the luxury of ignorant empathy.
The static of the shore and the waves are no match for the warmth in your mother’s voice, little one. It will shine through, and carry through to the present day. She stands up, with wide eyes of wanderlust and love a little too large for her head, and she looks straight at the ghost of you that will not walk on this Earth for months.
“There are many beautiful things in this world, Adrien. Some of them may frighten you, or may be tempting to take advantage of. To forget the past… to right a wrong… or to live in a delusion that you can overcome anything. Things we cannot help.”
Her smile for you does not falter.
“To gain a power like that… I hope you never do. But if you are granted something like that… remember to cherish it every day. Because, Adrien, at your core, you are human. And what a wonderful thing that is.”
She picks up the camera, and holds it closer to her.
“One day, Adrien, I will not be here. I hope it isn’t for years to come… but not everyone has that luxury, no matter what your father may think. So please… please, for your mother, remember; to be human is not simple. You are raised with words and helping hands, but you are expected to invent who you are. Do not ever think you are simply one role. You are not just our son, or Adrien Agreste, an influential heir. You are not the powers that help you, or the traits you put out the most.”
Her smile brightens.
“You are going to be as human as those who make or break you. You are going to break, and build yourself back up. So please… remember that where you are right now, is not the only place you will be. Who you are now, is not set in stone for who you will become. Flowers can grow on sidewalks, even if their home is the forest floor. So I hope… you never grow in a place you feel trapped.”
“Darling? Where are you?”
The voice off-camera is drowned in static. The warmth is not for you.
She looks to the side, that beautiful mother of yours, before she smiles again.
“Persevere, Adrien, and remember to love.”
“…Damn. Adrien, are you–?”
Adrien’s eyes began to sting.
Nino didn’t say another word as he shifted over, wrapping his arms around his friend and holding him close. Even took his hat off so it wouldn’t hit Adrien in the eyes.
Adrien leaned into his shoulder. “…Dad never saw that.”
“Doesn’t look like it, dude.”
“He wanted to call me Felix.”
“…Kind of a crummy name. I’d have to agree with your Mom, there.”
A sob hitched in the back of his throat. “She always was so smart.” Finally, his hands reached up, and clutched the material of Nino’s shirt. “Why did she have to go, Nino?”
It was an unfair rhetoric. Adrien was still surprised that Nino answered.
“…Not everyone has the luxury of sticking around. But where you are right now isn’t always going to be the place you belong.”
.
.
.
“Dammit, Nino…”
Adrien sobbed for ten minutes, before he managed to find it within himself to calm down.
He knew what it was like to have a parent who left, Nino told him, between the sobs. His father walked out on him and his mother when ht was just a kid, and his mother was always working to support the family. Just the two of them. Little and broken, but the love strung them together into a mess of happy regrets.
Maybe that was why Nino hated Adrien’s father so much. Enough to become poisoned by the Akuma.
Breaking away from the hug, though Nino still had an arm around his shoulders, Adrien wiped his eyes free of any stray tears. “Thanks.”
Nino grinned at him, squeezing his shoulder. “Anytime, bro.” His gaze wandered over to the tape. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen your mom’s face, honestly. Like.. properly, I mean. Your Dad has all those paintings, but there she seemed… like she was real.”
“Yeah. Dad has paintings of her beauty. I have static videos on my phone of her laughter. And now, this tape. Between you and me, Nino? I know which one I prefer.”
“I second that.”
Nino then grabbed the tape from where it it poked out of the player, and pushed it into Adrien’s hands. “So… what are you gonna do now?”
“Hide this from my Dad, for one. And…”
“And?”
“…Well. Just keep going, I guess. Mom wanted me to find this, but I’ve got a lot more to discover about myself. I’m going to make those words mean something.”
.
.
.
Outside, the sun began to shine golden all over the wild flowers of Paris.