#but yeah i have a new sketchbook now (it’s smaller than what my mom meant to order in so she said we can switch it out but idk! might be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Yeah, I’m done

I got in this prompt in November, if I remember right. I didn’t really look at it because… What the hell is a fall out fic?!!! I thought maybe it meant Lila exposed but I’ve done quite a few of those. However, I don’t really think I ever focused on it too much; usually, I stray to all the wonderful things Marinette does without them. This came from someone anonymous so It's not like I can just ask the sender… SO I decided to wing it.

Marinette could honestly say she had waited a very long time for Lila to be exposed as the liar she was. Over a year in fact. A very long fourteen months.

If Marinette was honest with herself, she would also add that she stopped waiting for any reason other than the fact she hated lies about… seven months, three days, and seven hours ago.

Why did she remember that so well?

That was the moment Marinette stopped trying to save everyone. Don’t get her wrong; she was still Ladybug. Ladybug was still a kickass hero. She did her job better than ever before.

However, Marinette decided to take a step back, breathe, and let the chips fall where they may.

Her fellow students, her once friends, had been trapped in the spider web of Lila’s tales; awestruck and utterly hypnotized into believing everything the Italian girl had to say. Even the ones about a girl most had known their entire lives.

A bully, they called her.

A selfish jerk.

A jealous bitch.

Her! Marinette! The girl who had done so much for them; had gone to bat for them more times than she could count, and obviously more times than they could remember.

Slowly, one by one, her friendship with each and every member of the class withered and died until there was nothing left but ashes.

It was then Marinette realized some things weren’t worth saving.

Marinette had no trouble forgiving them; it was who she was. But she promised herself she wouldn’t forget.

And if they could treat her like this, after everything, that she didn’t want to be friends with them anyway. Not now, not ever.

When Marinette stood up and announced her resignation from being Class President at the end of the prior school year, the entire class cheered. Like they did when Chloe was forced out of office. (…That only broke Marinette’s heart a little.)

The bluenette changed her number the day after school officially let out for summer. It wouldn’t matter, she knew. She doubted they’d even realize. Most hadn’t so much as texted her in months. Unless they needed something; a favor.

But Marinette was done with favors. Done with free commissions that no one ever seemed to realize cost her an arm and a leg; the fabric was expensive, art supplies for banners were expensive, designing was time-consuming. She was done with any free babysitting. She was done to bring in free sweets on big test days or when the class had a hard week prior. Marinette was done fundraising for class trips and events Bustier would exclude her from at the behest of the rest of the class for her “poor attitude” and “negative energy”. She was done with planning birthdays, making special presents, when no one in class even bothered to wish her a happy birthday.

And most of all, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was done fighting for people who didn’t fight for her. She had tried for months and months to get them to listen to her and what did she get in return? Deemed a green-eyed Liar! As far as she was concerned Lila and Chloe could have at it; do whatever they wanted.

She didn’t have a single friend in class.

They weren’t her concern anymore.

…

It took about a month into the new school years for the class to really understand that. Lila had originally voted in as class president, and had feigned a few tears while thanking the class for the honor but had declined due to being too busy. So Alya was voted in next.

Alya handled the first two birthdays, Ivan’s and Alix’s, really well; she decorated their desks, gave them a birthday card. However, the usual tray of baked goods that were usually brought in for every birthday never showed.

When Alya inquired if Bustier had forgotten to order the cupcakes, the teacher had looked confused.

Marinette tried not to smirk as she sat in the back of the class, pretending to look over her sketchbook.

“I’ve never ordered any before,” Bustier said. “Marinette always did. She was class president. It was her job.”

The two looked back at Marinette; expectant looks on their faces.

The Asian girl snorted. It was never the class president’s job. Chloe never did it in all the years she ruled the class with an iron fist. Marinette had done it because she had been their friend. And she didn’t order them. She bought the ingredients and made them herself.

“It’s the job for the new class president,” Marinette corrected and watched Alya’s face fall. Normally, at that point, Alya would try to ask Marinette for a favor; for Marinette to do it instead.

However, the glasses-wearing girl had taken to ignoring her ex-bestie as much as she could.

“Fine!” Alya huffed. “I’ll do it myself.”

The next thing the class realized had changed was when Bustier announced, “Maybe it’s time we start planning for any class field trips?”

Alya had nodded earnestly, and started making outrageous plans for all the trips the class could take; one to Paris Disney world, another to England, New York, L.A, and so many other very costly ideas.

Ideas, when Marinette was Class president, she would’ve quickly shot down as being impractical, expensive, dangerous, impossible, and any whatever other reason she could think of so the class wouldn’t get their hopes up.

Alya did no such thing.

Marinette just shook her head, and let her ex-friend dig her own grave.

The announcement happened in the morning. Alya had stayed behind when the bell rang for lunch to talk to the teacher and had blatantly glared at Marinette as she said so

And Marinette knew exactly what Alya was planning on talking to Bustier about.

Sure enough, at the end of the school day, Bustier had made another announcement; in front of the entire class.

Marinette really hated how unprofessional the teacher was.

Bustier made it clear that, once again, Marinette was excluded from the class trips that year until her behavior changed. This caused half the class, specifically Lila and Alya, to send her smug looks.

Marinette had nodded, “I understand, Miss Bustier. I can’t say it won’t be a relief not to have to help fundraiser.” The smug looks didn’t entirely disappear but a few faces looked confused instead as if they didn’t realize that meant Marinette wouldn’t help. “I always hated all the planning it took,” And doing all the work, she didn’t add. “Fundraiser after fundraiser. Coming up with the budget, making reservations, clearing it with the school board, clearing it with the parents, getting chaperones, actually raising the money.” She gave a fake sad sigh. “Oh well. Hope you guys have a blast though.”

Then it came time to plan for the first fundraiser. A bake sale.

Marinette had nearly fallen out of her chair laughing when Alya brought it up. Because the bluenette had always hated doing bake sales as she was the only one who ever brought in any baked goods. It was like the entire class thought that just because Marinette lived in a bakery it would be easy for her to get all the food needed.

It wasn’t. She made most of it herself and bought the rest with her own money.

“So who’s going to bring what?” Alya asked. She looked straight at Marinette and seemed to wat for the bluenette to speak. Only for Marinette to raise an eyebrow as if daring her to ask. Alya looked surprised for a moment before she seemed to remember that Marinette wasn’t going to help out. “We’ll make a list.”

No one said a word.

Marinette leaned back in her seat, with a smirk on her face. Alya had said they needed to raise at least $2,000 for the bakery. A highly unrealistic goal. Marinette had only ever raised $423 from a bake sale before.

“I can bring in cookies,” Alya offered once the silence and confused looks continued. “Anyone else? Nino?” She asked her boyfriend.

Nino’s eyes went wide, “Uh, I usually just play the music.” Alya glared at him. “But my mom has a killer blondie recipe. I can ask her to make some.”

Alya nodded, “Sweet. Rose?” And then, one by one, Alya called on each member of the class to see what she could force them to bring.

Even though all but one person in the class promised to bring something; it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a very big class. Theirs were the smallest in the entire school which was why new kids always got stuffed with them. In addition, flyers and a banner still needed to be made to promote the fundraiser.

It was clear as she looked at the list that Alya knew they were in trouble. And again, her eyes went to Marinette, a little bit more pleading now. Marinette just shook her head and started sketching a new dress.

She was done with always coming to the rescue.

Marinette didn’t go the bake sale. However, she heard about how much of a disaster it was from Aurore, her new friend from Mendeleiev’s class.

Half the food was burnt and overpriced. The flyers were terrible. And then it rained halfway through.

Suffice to say, the fundraiser was a bust.

And so were the fundraisers that came after it. Never once did the class meet their goals; though admittedly, their goals were never realistic, to begin with.

Marinette knew for certain by December that there was no way the class was taking any of the “oh so amazing trips, and it’s such a pity you can’t go, Marinette” they had planned. Or any good trip for that matter.

It took months for the school board to approve big trips; weeks to approve small ones. Paperwork needed to be filed with detailed plans ready to present. If a big trip got approved, and then for some reason, they couldn’t go and decided to do a smaller trip instead, new Paperwork would need to be filled out. The new trip would need to be approved. It wasn’t like Bustier could take the class somewhere without permission. And if it wasn’t done in time, there would be no trip.

In late October, Marinette posted a flyer on the class board, and around the school, promoting her new website. It got curious glances but only Adrien asked about it.

Adrien, who was neither enemy nor friend, but a neutral party who refused to get involved. His version of the high road, Marinette guessed.

“What’s that?” He asked. “You starting your own business?”

Marinette nodded, “MDC designs. I designed a bunch of clothes over the summer and got a few friends to model them; Aurore, Marc, Luka,” Juleka looked up at the mention of her brother “Kagami, Ondine, Claude Mireille; and a bunch of girls from the fashion club. People can choose the premade designs already promoted on the site and I can send it to them in their size. Or they can contact me for a custom piece; dresses, scarfs, nearly anything really. That’s a lot more expensive, though. Not at much as it would’ve been, say last year, but now that I’ve stopped doing free commissions, I could lower the price.” She said the last sentence louder than polite but she wanted the entire class to hear.

No one in class blinked twice at her statement. However, Marinette knew they would.

Adrien nodded happily, “Cool, that’s kind of what my dad did in the late 90s when he was starting out. Computers were like barely a thing he said.”

Marinette couldn’t picture a time without computers or her smartphone and couldn’t imagine a life without the internet. She shivered at the thought. “Aurore’s become really well known as an Instagram model. I gave her a few outfits in exchange for her promoting my stuff. She even got a few of her model friends to promote my clothes as well. It’s going really well. If the trend continues; I was thinking of doing a live, online, runway show. I’ve already been scouting places.”

That got some envious looks. Whether it was because Marinette was doing so well or because others would be used as her model, she didn’t know. She didn’t care.

Marinette was done caring about every stupid little thing.

The blond just nodded with enthusiasm, “You’re a great designer. I’m sure you’ll be a hit in no time.

“Hopefully, rather than later,” Marinette smiled. “It’ll go even better when Nadja promotes me on her show. I just have to babysit Manon for free for five random days of Nadja’s request that she could request … any time.” It had been a steep price but Marinette had been willing to pay. “She’ll even promote my runway show if I ever have it.”

The first time someone, Mylene, realized just what Marinette had meant when the drama club inquired to her about getting more costumes for the school play and she had no one to turn to. She took one look at commission prices for local tailors for custom pieces and nearly threw up. Marinette’s website, while still expensive, was a much better deal. Still, Mylene couldn’t afford it.

Nino needed a gift for his mom and remembered how much she loved the scarf he got her last year. He thought it was a good idea to get her something similar. But then he remembered Marinette had made the scarf. And Alya would kill him if he bought anything from Marinette’s website. So Nino settled on something small.

When the school dance came, for the first time the majority of the girls in class would have to buy their own dresses. They came from a store, were cheaply made, and were not nearly as amazing as the ones they previously wore.

All in all, it wasn’t the greatest year for Bustier’s class. Midterms had taken a heavy toll. It tense and everyone was clearly frustrated. So were Marinette’s friends from other classes. So during Lunch, Marinette surprised her table with delicious baked goods as a pick me up. The ones she normally would’ve brought just for her class.

Marinette pretended not to notice the hopeful looks on her classmates faces when she walked by with the iconic light blue Dupain-Cheng bakery box. And ignored the crestfallen looks on their faces when she headed them out to just her friends.

In April, it was clear that the trip to New York had fallen through as they didn’t have enough money. Alya had to rush to get something small approved before the end of the year; a trip to the local amusement park. Marinette didn’t laugh when Alya announced it to the class who looked really bummed all their hard work didn’t pay off. She didn’t even blink twice. It had nothing to do with her after all.

In May, the truth finally came out. It happened on a Thursday.

Lila had forgotten her lunch bag at home. Her mother brought it. Lila’s eyes went wide at seeing her mother and she did everything she could to get her out of the class as soon as possible.

Rose asked Mrs. Rossi, “How the meeting in Achu went?”

To which Lila’s mother replied, “A what now? I’ve never been to Achu.”

Marinette had merely leaned back in her seat to watch the fireworks.

And it was beautiful.

It was an even bet as to who had the bigger meltdown.

Mrs. Rossi: when she learned just how much her daughter had been lying; to her, to the school, to her classmates, and basically everyone she met since moving to Paris. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time and it caused a lot of trouble in the past which was why they had to move to France. Mrs. Rossi was quick to refute any rumors about celebrity meetings, traveling around the world, and ever meeting any royalty. And that Lila had no medical issues whatsoever and didn’t participate in any charity organization.

Lila: she had nearly been Akumatized when her mother started to reveal the truth. Luckily, Ladybug had been nearby to catch the little butterfly. (Marinette had just left to the bathroom, not that anyone had really noticed). The hero refuted ever knowing Lila outside of stopping her akuma forms.

And Finally Alya: who had burst into an angry rant and furious tears at being lied to. It was another near akumatization. Alya had to be physically restrained from attacking Lila once the realization hit her about her blog being discredited for lies.

A lot of the class yelled and made accusations but no reaction was nearly as extreme as the other three. Lila had taken advantage of her classmates for almost two years. They carried her books, remade plans so she could be included, took notes for her, threw parties to celebrate her newest accomplishments.

However, Marinette noted, not one of them mention the friendship they had destroyed because of their belief in Lila. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

The bluenette had long since realized she wasn’t ever as important to her ex-friends she once thought.

The entire class was still angry the next day. Lila didn’t show so vented to each other.

Marinette still sat in the back of the class, content to come up with designs to present to a nice lady who wanted a killer dress to wear to her sister’s wedding, and let the class deal with its own drama.

Unfortunately, some people didn’t get a clue.

“Marinette,” Adrien said brightly. Marinette fought not to look up at the sky and ask god why. “What do you think about the Lila situation?”

“I don’t really care,” The bluenette said. “I was done with the whole thing a while ago.”

Suddenly everyone remembered Marinette was there. Marinette who swore Lila was lying for months. Marinette who they had ostracized and exiled. Marinette who they had ignored. Marinette who had once been their friend.

Rose gasped, her hand over mouth, tears welled up in her eyes, “Marinette! I’m so sorry,” She cried.

“I can’t believe we were so mean to you,” Juleka said.

“Dudette, I had no clue what I was thinking,” Nino said.

More apologies came, each one more heartfelt than the last. Alya had been last. She looked like she had been stabbed from the pain her face. Eventually, the glasses-wearing girl cried, “I’m so sorry girl! I’ve been the worst bestie ever. I should’ve believed you over Lie-La.”

Marinette looked at her classmates, shrugged, and said, “Okay.” Then she went back to looking working.

That was it. However, clearly by the silence that came from the class. They had been expected a bigger reaction. Tears of joy and relief. Happiness to have her friends back. Anything but they got nothing.

Alya frowned, “Didn’t you hear us? We’re sorry. We should’ve trusted you, we know that now. We’ll make it up to you, we promise.”

Marinette sighed but shook her head. “No. Thank you. I don’t need you to make it up to me,” She said. “I don’t want you to make it up to me. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

“But, but…” Rose looked around for help. “We’re friends again.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said brightly. “It can go back to the way it was.”

At that, Marinette put down her pencil. She gave the class a hard look. “Let me make this clear because I have no intention of repeating myself: we are not friends. None of you,” She gave pointed looks to her ex-friends, the longest to Adrien and Alya. “Are my friends. You were mean. You called me names. You spread nasty lies about me because Lila told them to you. You excluded me from all class activities; despite the fact that last year I did the majority of the fundraising, the planning, and the work. You hurt me. Things will not go back to the way they were. I don’t trust you. We are not friends. And we will never be friends again. No amount of apologies will change that.”

Alya went to protest, “Girl, we’re-”

Marinette interrupted her, “Just move on. I have.” Then put her headphones in until Bustier managed to get control back over the class. As far as Marinette was concerned there wasn’t anything left they could say.

…

That didn’t stop them from trying.

No one in the class seemed to believe that Marinette, their everyday Ladybug, wouldn’t forgive them. Lila had been withdrawn from school and no one knew what happened to her. And without Lila’s presence, the class was sure Marinette would have no problem moving on from the drama the Italian girl had caused.

They never even considered the fact that Marinette had never been angry at Lila. She hadn’t been happy at her lies. But she had been furious that her friends had fallen for them so easily, particularly the ones about the bluenette.

“Hey,” Alya said brightly stopping in front of Marinette’s desk the following Monday morning. She thought Marinette just needed the weekend to calm down. “All the girls are planning a slumber party at Rose’s on Friday, you in?”

“No,” Marinette said firmly. “I’m busy,” She offered politely.

And she would be “busy” every time they wanted her to do something.

Too busy to go to all the parties she had been previously excluded from. Her ex-friends still hadn’t realized Marinette had never wanted to go after she realized they just weren’t worth it anymore.

Too busy hanging out after school. Or go to Adrien’s photoshoot. (Alya just wouldn’t understand that Marinette was so done with her crush on Adrien.)

Too busy to help with the school play.

Too busy to watch Kitty Section preform.

Too busy to go play video games.

Every day, every moment they could; her ex-friends were trying to pressure her into being their friend again, hanging out with them again, forgiving them. They just wouldn’t take no for answer.

Honestly, Marinette was just done with their antics.

Particularly the incessant need to make sure Marinette was on the “big” class trip; as if they believed if Marinette went it would make up for everything.

Marinette made it clear she really, truly was way too busy to go some random beach trip. She really did have plans and she couldn’t back out of them. They were too important.

But her ex-friends kept bringing it up, with Alya leading the charge, over and over again. They didn’t care what Marinette wanted at all. And once more, Marinette was reminded why she was glad they weren’t her friends anymore.

Eventually, once again, they got the teacher involved. Bustier had so “nicely” announced in front of the class, that Marinette was more than welcome to go on the class trip with them and that they looked forward to coming along.

And as far as Marinette was concerned that was the final straw.

“I’m good,” Marinette said. “Seeing as my behavior hasn’t changed. I think its best I don’t go; right Miss Bustier? That was what you said? And obviously to you thought it was a good reason.” She reminded the teacher. Bustier flushed a pink color at being called out. “It wasn’t like you, an adult woman, caved into peer pressure from your students and a childish need to avoid confrontational situations.”

Silence from the class. No one had expected Marinette to react as she did. In their minds, she was still their “everyday ladybug”; the nicest and sweetest girl in school. The idea made Marinette scoff. Where was that mindset when Lila got ahold of them?

The bluenette glared at the teacher, the woman who should’ve never let the Lila issue get as far as it did; never let Marinette be ostracized and bullied. “I mean, you called me out in front of the entire class to tell me I couldn’t go. Not the first or last time, by the way, you did something so… crass. Not the most sensitive way either.”

“Well, I think-” Bustier had tried to say but was cut off.

Marinette wasn’t going to let her have a word in, “I’m so glad I started to record lesson last year, for you know notes? You know after that expulsion incident? I worried about what I’d miss. It made it so easy for my parents to understand why I was excluded from class events because they could watch it. I mean I have months and months of video evidence they just… loved. They got to see exactly what this class is like on an everyday basis, and exactly how you run it. So did our lawyer, who seemed rather interested in my school. It turns out that physically harming, via tripping or pushing them into walls as you walked by just hard enough for it to hurt. Or destroying private property; like a phone, spilling water on a laptop, or sketchbooks filled with work for commissions. Or verbally bullying someone. Or sending horrible texts daily, all of which I saved and printed out, can be considered harassment. Which is illegal and the perpetrators involved could face criminal charges as well as be sued for the destruction of said property and for emotional ramifications I suffered. But a teacher would never let anything like that happen in front of them so it wouldn’t be on any of the videos I have, right?”

She let the words fill the room. Bustier had paled dramatically and looked ready to faint. The rest of the students who had taken to bullying Marinette instead of ignoring her looked sick. Marinette had no sympathy for any of them. They got themselves into this mess.

Marinette shook her head, “I asked them to chill for now because you’re the teacher. You did what you did for a reason. It’s not like you’d shirk your responsibilities on the class representative. Or force some poor student to be a model example and mediator for all class issues. Or god forbid, cater to the bullies and blame the victim; allow one of your students to be verbally and physically harassed daily. The videos I have surely would never show anything like that; let alone prove it in a court of law… No matter what my lawyer says. But again, you don’t have to tell me why.” Marinette already knew why after all. And she was so done with Bustier. “You had to have had a good reason. Otherwise, I would have to take this to the school board. And a judge in a court of law. And see if you can explain it to them. Maybe I’ll even send them to my mom’s best friend Nadja so she can put them on her show and the world can see too. And we can find out what everyone thinks of you and your teaching methods.”

The threat was clear to all.

Bustier better back off. Or Marinette would make her back off.

The teacher only had to slip once, and she was done for.

“Enjoy the trip,” The bluenette smiled cheerfully, in a way that reminded them eerily how she used to smile at them when Marinette was still their friend; still their “everyday Ladybug”. But instead of bringing warmth as it used to, all they felt was shivers. “It might our last one altogether. After all, who knows where we’ll all be in September. May be separated into different classes. Or different schools. With the way Damocles expels students with no procedure whatsoever, you never know. Or have a new teacher. We can only guess. I think its best if we just… leave things alone. With the way things are, if you push, you might get pushed back… right off a cliff.”

Marinette was done playing games.

When the class left for their “big” trip, Marinette had finally let out a sigh of relief. Next, she was so transferring to Mendeleiev’s class.

She was done with Bustier’s class.

While the students of Bustier’s class were playing at the beach and plotting their next move to get Marinette to forgive them, Marinette was fulfilling one of her biggest dreams.

The bluenette did have for her online runway show. She had spent weeks and weeks promoting it on her website. Aurore, some of the fashion club, and other rising Instagram models walked the runway in Marinette’s new line. Jagged hosted. It hadn’t been Marinette’s idea, but Jagged complained to Penny when Marinette turned him down the first time and Penny talked to Marinette.

Chloe made a deal to her mother to watch the runaway show to review in exchange for Chloe being one of the models. Again, Marinette expressed concerns but couldn’t turn down the chance of Style Queen seeing her clothes.

Marc helped designed the runway; to give it an artistic, futuristic, edgy look. Claude brought in a smoke machine and his laser machine that the used for his short films to make everything really pop.

Clara Nightingale let Marinette use her music as the runway music. The superstar performed a song during the show and promoted it on her social media feed in exchange for a few custom pieces and Marinette getting Ladybug to do some selfies with her. (Tikki had to be bribed with an entire tray of chocolate chip cookies, and to be left alone with the TV in Marinette’s room for the night; something about finally catching up on Game of Thrones.) Marinette was quick to agree. Though Jagged had been in a huff until Marinette agreed to let him close out the show.

The world took notice, albeit mostly because of Jagged and Clara. But Audrey, the Style Queen herself, had raved about how cutting edge it was. She claimed that an underground, exclusive, fashion show was the new big thing in fashion. The clothes were marvelous too. All in all, MDC’s runway was exciting, sophisticated, and fresh, just like her new line.

Not long after Style Queen’s review posted, the orders had come flying in on her website. Everyone who was anyone seemed to NEED to be seen wearing the MDC brand.

Marinette had smiled ear to ear for the rest of the weekend. She looked forward to what the future would bring.

It was a new day.

Which was great because…

Marinette was so done with yesterday.

#ml fic #ml salt fic #ml salt #Marinette deserves better #marinette dupain cheng #class salt #alya salt #A bit of Adrien salt

4K notes · View notes

sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

heart of stone (6/?)

AO3

Janis ditches the tights and jean shorts by Wednesday. There’s a slight look of ‘I told you so’ on her mother’s face, but she spares Janis the lecture out of politeness. Janis never thought she’d miss them, but here she is.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she scribbles another flower on the page, a twin for the one next to it. Not an exact twin, it’s thinner and its petals are more spiked and sharp than the one she drew before it. It’s less inviting, more dangerous. Angry, even. Like if she picked it up she’d cut her finger on it. She hadn’t intended for it to happen; in fact, she’d set out to doodle some pretty little flowers in an attempt to brighten up her sketchbook. But the pencil, as it often does, did what it wanted. She turns it on the side, trying to find a way to like it. It’s not bad work, not her best but certainly not her worst. Maybe she could like it if she had drawn it earlier, but she had really been hoping to get something nice into her book today.

With a sigh, she sets the book on her lap and swings her body around so that her feet dangle over the edge of her bed. Her next round of chemo isn’t due for a few hours, a long stretch of time to attempt to fill with activity. While she’s only been in the hospital for two full days, she’s decided that the worst part is the waiting around for the next thing to happen. Granted, much of that can be put on her as she’s spent more time in her room than she has anywhere else, distracting herself with TV and art and her parents and texting her friends every chance she can get. It all comes together and forms some kind of routine for her, one that’s built with as much familiarity and comfort as possible woven through it. The only downside to it is that the room’s been getting progressively smaller since two days ago and it wasn’t long before it started choking her.

She left the door slightly open and peers into the hallway, the brightness of the walls striking against the cool tones of her room. She can hear the faint sounds of half-conversations that overlap with each other; nurses gossiping with each other while fiddling with IVs, the inhabitants of the longue talking and laughing about who knows what, doctors prescribing new rounds of medicine. The ward is much more alive than she had Janis ever thought it could be, a constant hum in the background of the day to day life keeps the place awake.

She taps her nails on the cover of her book, her swinging legs gaining momentum as she debates following the pull in her chest, compelling her to maybe leave her room for more than five minutes at a time and follow the sounds of conversation. Maybe talk to people who aren’t her medical team or her parents. Make some friends, because as everyone knows, cancer wards are prime social hotspots. She may not be here forever, but she’ll be here long enough to justify getting comfortable.

What’s the worst that can happen, logic had asked her that first night.

Literally so freaking much, she responded. Friends aren’t exactly her strong suit. Regina was a mistake, Damian was luck, and Cady was a gift. She could indulge her inner loser and tell herself it’s because she’s special and tailor made to a few specific people, but the thought of that makes her roll her eyes. So she faces up to the truth and all it entails; that she’s merely been unlucky in the friendship department, something that can be boiled down to one terrible experience and everything that came after it and lingers long after the smoke has cleared.

You’re being ridiculous she tells herself. If there’s a Regina George clone here, she’ll be thoroughly impressed. So she pulls her boots on and pushes herself off the bed, quickly explaining to her mom that she’s going to hang out in the longue for a bit.

“You need me to come with you?”

“I’m fine,” she says, a small smile on her face as she pulls on a cardigan. She nods at the intense competitive cooking show her mom has on the TV. “Tell me who wins. And don’t leave out any details.”

“Well we both know it’s not going to be Leticia judging by the look of that beef,” she says seriously. Janis clicks her tongue before turning and heading down, her steps smaller than normal and her sketchbook held against her chest like a shield. Her stomach twists uneasily, not from the chemo or anything like that, just from good old-fashioned anxiety. In an odd way, it’s a relief to feel ill in that way.

When she pushes herself past the open doors, all eyes turn to her and only look away to talk with other people. It’s far more populated than the last time she was here, people sitting in groups of two and three, most in pyjamas and some with hats. But all of them in groups, belonging with each other. Is this how Cady felt all those months ago, when she and Damian spotted her heading to the bathroom? Maybe her girlfriend had the right idea that day. A bathroom stall is a way better alternative to a room full of strangers.

Unfortunately, she knows better by now, and so she settles in an armchair as gracefully as she can, her legs tucked beneath her, and tries to shake off the discomfort she feels by opening her book and giving her hands something to do.

“You’re new,” a girl sitting on the floor states. She’s one of the few that actually has hair, dark brown and curly, and it makes Janis feel a little more at ease. Is that bad, she has to ask.

“Third day,” she explains, offering her a small wave. “I’m Janis.”

“Melissa,” she says. She leans back on her arms and exposes a little bandage inside her elbow. Janis pulls her own arm a little closer. Melissa doesn’t seem to notice, instead gesturing to her with her chin.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” she asks, her cheeks growing warm. “Oh, just some drawings I do.”

“Cool,” she says. “So you do art?”

“Sometimes it’s like the art does me," she says dryly, earning a chuckle. “But you know how it is.”

“My best friend says that all the time,” Melissa sighs. “She says she wants to go to art college but I’ve watched her cry over trying to hand in assignments.”

“You sound like my mom,” Janis replies. “Literally every time I bring up doing art in college she tells me how stressful it is.” She shrugs lightly. “She’s not wrong, but it’s the only thing I want to do.”

“Is your mom here?”

“Yeah, she’s back in my room,” she explains. “I left her watching some cooking show on TV.”

“Wow, and you’ve only just here. I’ve been here for a month and I only just got my mom to let me out of her sight,” she sighs, a resigned smile on her face and her eyebrow raised in a silent ‘you know how it is’. “Want to play some Scrabble? We’ve started keeping a scoreboard so we can add you in. We have a whole tournament going.”

“Sounds fun,” Janis says, pushing herself off the chair. “Although I should give you warning, I’m dyslexic, so I kind of suck at it.”

Janis follows her across the longue, slipping her hand into her pocket when she thinks she sees the other girl reach out to her. There’s a pang of guilt in Janis’ chest even though Melissa doesn’t seem to care, and she does her best to work through it. She exchanges names and smiles with other kids, all introduced by Melissa. It’s an odd feeling; she’s not used to being the one who’s introduced. She’s either known people so long she doesn’t need to or she’s the one making the introduction, but today her mouth feels dry and her tongue tied so much that all she can do is say ‘hi’ and try to keep up with the rest of the little group. But despite this, and despite the fact that she does supremely suck at Scrabble, they aren’t half bad. They welcome her in with no problem at all, asking her about school and life and art as they set up tiles and she knows the right questions to ask them. She laughs at their jokes and nods along to the conversation, even adding in her own take now and again as it builds into a steady flow.

It’s not entirely perfect; she can’t help but feel slightly on the outside when they bring up a nurse or a patient she doesn’t know and she’s much more quiet than she’s used to being, unsure which, if any, topics are off-limits, where the lines are. But she’s enjoying herself enough to drown out her earlier worries even if it can’t make them fade entirely, and her mood only picks up when she hears someone behind her say (squeal) her name, followed a flash of pink and rainbow appearing in her vision. How times change when a pink sweater can make her smile instead of grimace.

“Maddie!” The younger girl leans into her side, eyes bright and sparkling, and Janis puts an arm around her shoulders. “Hey kid, where have you been?”

“Where have you been more like,” she replies. “I haven’t seen you since Monday.”

“Been busy,” she says. No one presses, likely because they all understand. They’ve all been where she is before. “And now I’m busy losing at Scrabble. Badly.” Maddie chuckles and when her arms wrap around Janis and chin rests on her shoulder, she can’t say no to it. There’s nothing uncomfortable about such a gesture and it almost feels as natural as hugging Damian or when Karen rests her head on her shoulder, despite her only knowing the girl for two days.

“Oh hey, did they tell you about the photography thing yet?” she asks.

“That what now?”

“Oh it’s this thing the cancer centre started,” Melissa explains. “Basically they want us to take pictures of stuff that matters to us. Us doing hobbies, us with our friends, the whole shebang. It’s meant to be about our cancer not defining us or whatever.” She gives a casual shrug. “It’s fun anyway. You should do it. Especially since you have your art thing.”

“Sounds like fun,” she says before poking Maddie in the ribs. “Now come on, kid. Help me make a word out of these.”

And maybe it’s Maddie’s presence or just time passing, but Janis suddenly finds herself a lot less anxious. She even gets to the point where she trades playful insults with another kid, a boy around her age, and form a team up of sorts against him with one of the other girls. They can’t replace her real friends and she wouldn’t try to, the bonds she’s formed with Damian and Cady are too important and were put through too much to be replicated, but she suspects that they could quickly become new friends.

What’s more, treatments and diagnosis come in and out of the conversation with unexpected ease, and when Janis talks about her own, it’s the same. She hadn’t realised how much of this she’d held back, even in her texts and calls with Damian and talks with her mom. And while she feels bad for it, it also feels so, so good to talk to people like this. People who aren’t her parents or her doctors. People who are, well… like her.

And as it turns out, her next round is scheduled the same time as Melissa’s, and so they head down the hallway together. While Melissa continues to make conversation, Janis’ responses dwindle the closer she gets to her room. It doesn’t take long for the good feeling from the longue to fade, and the image of the needle in her vein becomes sharper in her mind.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Janis asks suddenly.

“Sure.”

“Does it…” She swallows past the lump in her throat. She finds a loose thread on her cardigan and toys with it until the question comes out. “Does it ever get easier? All this?”

“Well…” Melissa stops in their tracks and Janis almost trips as she does the same, immediately regretting asking. The other girl bites her lip, searching for the right answer. It feels like hours before she says “I don’t really know. I can’t speak for you. We’re all different here.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I guess you get used to it. So it starts getting less scary, I guess.”

Janis only nods and then Melissa reaches out and taps her arm.

“It doesn’t stop sucking,” she sighs. “You just get used to it sucking.”

“And then we all bond over it sucking?” she asks, smirking.

“You get it,” she replies with a laugh. “See you later, Janis.”

“Bye.”

After Melissa leaves, she lingers in the hallway for a minute, pressing her finger into the spot where her IV goes. The problem is exactly what Melissa said-you get used to it. And she really, really doesn’t want to get used to it. Getting used it to means that she’ll be here for a while, that something else replaces her old life. Especially now, after the year she had last year, she wants to get used to good stuff, not stuff that ‘sucks’. The idea of this, medicines and hospitals and doctors, becoming normal to her sends a shiver down her back.

But she learned a while ago how to live in reality, even when it’s not what she wants. And it’s with that attitude she walks into her room, where she finds not only her IV set up, but a text from Cady detailing something funny from her math class and how much she misses her.

Even if she gets used to everything else, she knows she’ll never, ever get used to missing Cady.

*****

Friday morning, she wakes later than she normally does. It’s a slow process at the start, sleep pulling her in and begging her to stay, the hospital-issue sheets softer than soft around her and forming a cosy cocoon that she’s so tempted to remain in.

That is, until she remembers what day it is, and then she’s jolted awake.

Friday. Or as she’s called it, Damian-and-Cady day.

It was an unspoken agreement that the two of them were visiting her in here. Just like her father, they were insistent on coming over every moment they could, with Damian jokingly suggesting he could hide under her bed and they could have a sleep over (which they had considered in seriousness and attempted to plan). But thanks to a little thing called school, and another thing called distance, today was the first day she could see them, which is why now she’s wide awake, bright eyed, bushy tailed, everything. Because she’s finally seeing them again and filling the hole in her soul being away from them had carved.

“Morning, kid,” her mom says cheerily, entering the room with a cup of coffee in one hand. “They’re still serving breakfast downstairs, or if you want it brought up to you-”

“Sounds great, Mom,” she replies, only half paying attention. She turns on her phone, her leg bouncing anxiously as she waits for it to load. Has it always been this slow at turning on? She swears it hasn’t been. It takes an eternity for her lockscreen to come up, the time written across it in thin white numbers.

“Ten thirty?” she reads out loud before her head snaps up. “Mom, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Why would I?” she asks. “You need all the rest you can get, and you’ve still got time before you’re due a round.”

“I know,” she sighs, rubbing her eyes. “But Cady and I text good morning to each other and it was my turn this morning. I don’t want her to think I forgot.”

“Well, I’m sure Cady understands. You know, with all that’s going on, maybe she’s not expecting good mornings right now.”

“Course she is,” she replies quickly. In what universe would Cady not wait for a good morning from her? “It’s our thing. Didn’t you and Dad have a thing?” She types out the message and sends it quickly, although Cady probably won’t see it for at least another two hours.

“Oh, you think we did good morning e-mails back in those days?” she says, laughing a little. She sits on the bed next to her on the bed. “So are you getting some breakfast? Someone can bring it up if you don’t feel up to going down, I’ll just tell them what you want-”

“It’s fine, Mom.” She reaches under the bed and pulls on a sweater before slipping into her boots and raking a brush through her hair. “I might as well go down. Someone might take the last yogurt while I’m down there.”

Truthfully, she doesn’t really feel like eating. Not anything bad, she’s just not hungry, but it’ll put her mom’s mind at ease. Just as she thought, the tension fades from her mom’s shoulders, and when she pats her shoulder, there’s more relief in her smile than just breakfast warrants.

She eats in her room, with the TV on, like she does when she’s sick at home. She could eat in the dining room, but despite the new friends she’s made she prefers eating in private, especially away from the buzzing nurses. As she flips around the channels, her phone buzzes on the plastic table, the screen lighting up to show her a new text that makes her smile and roll her eyes at once.

‘Good morning, babe. Can’t wait to see you today. Also, ik I can’t really change it now, but what do we think of the outfit?’

Beneath the message is a picture of Cady in her bedroom mirror, clad in a black vest and blue flannel shirt with white skinny jeans, her hair held back in a high, loose ponytail, soft curls framing her round face, her eyes looking up at the mirror as she gives an open, toothy grin. And Janis can’t help it, she squeals. God damn it, her girlfriend is cute.

‘Love it, love it, love it. You’re the queen of cuteness. And apparently, texting during class. Stop doing that. If I get a text from you between now and lunch I will not cuddle you later.’

‘I’m not texting during class, it’s study hall.’ Wow, what on Earth has happened to the ever-studious, rule following Cady Heron? Not even Plastic Cady texted during study hall. ‘Besides, you have to cuddle with me. It’s legally required and I’m deprived of Janis cuddles.’

‘Only if you be good and don’t text during school hours.’ She fires back, chuckling under her breath. ‘And you remain that freaking adorable.’

“Well someone’s in a good mood.” She looks up and sees Doctor Wiley standing in the doorway, and her smile dips a little, the perfect bubble she was sitting in with Cady ruined. Not enough to ruin her mood, nothing could do that, but it shakes it.

“It’s her girlfriend,” her mom explains.

“How do you know that?”

“Your smile,” she says. “It’s your ‘Cady smile’.”

“I don’t…” Her voice trails off and her mom simply shrugs. Well look at that. She’s that girlfriend now.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Wiley says, striding towards her. Under the table, Janis crosses her fingers that this is a normal good morning visit. She’ll take bad news on any day that’s not Damian-and-Cady day. “So, Janis, a lot of us on your team have been talking and we’ve decided to ask if you might want to get a port inserted.”

“A what?” she asks.

“Think of it like a little reservoir put underneath your skin,” he explains. “Just to make receiving the chemo easier on you. A lot of patients have one put in.”

“Oh, wow.” Way to bring the mood down, Doc, she thinks. Sometimes she envies the younger patients who have their parents making all the hard decisions. Still, one word sticks out in all that. “It makes it easier?”

“Quite a bit easier,” he agrees. “For one thing, it’s a lot more comfortable than an IV.” There’s a plus. “And a lower risk of your medicine leaking out-”

“Sounds cool,” she interrupts quickly before he can bring up an image she doesn’t want. “Um, can I think about it? I mean, is it urgent?”

“No, of course not,” Wiley replies with a stiff smile. “I’ll let you and your mom discuss it.”

He leaves them after an uncomfortable silence, nodding to her and her mom and reminding her that he’s around if she has any questions.

“So what do you think?” her mom asks.

“I don’t think.” She picks her phone back up and jumps off the bed. “Where did you put my clothes?”

“I put everything in your bag, it’s under the bed,” she replies. Janis pulls out her bag, sorting through the mass of denim, cotton, plaid and leather, all while her mom hovers behind her with anxious eyes that drill into her back. "Janis, you should consider this.”

“And I will,” she sighs. She pulls out a shirt she’s always liked and throws it on the bed. “Just not right now.” She shakes her head, trying to clear some of the smoke in her brain. Still sitting on the ground, she looks up at her mom and sighs. “Mom, I just want to not think about cancer stuff right now. I just want to see my friends and think about that.” She toys with the shirt in her hands and bunches it into a tight ball, her arms tense and shaking and her grip tight. “Is that okay?”

Her voice sounds impossibly broken on that question. And while it wasn’t intentional, it works on her mom, who nods and comes over to pat her hair.

“Okay, sweetie,” she says, and that’s the temporary end of it.

The day passes even slower than it normally does in hospital-time. Hours stretch on and on with no end in sight and she can’t distract herself no matter what she tries to do. She can’t focus long enough to read or settle on one TV show and even games in the longue can only get her so far. She tries checking her social media when on her IV, but she’s hardly there a minute before her anxiety peaks again after seeing pictures of her friends. Besides, it’s mostly dry now, everyone else is in class.

Finally, finally, it comes to the afternoon and it’s close enough that she can justify beginning to get ready. She stretches, grateful for the little power nap she took earlier, and fishes her make-up out of her bag. It’s not everything, but it’ll have to work, as will the tiny mirror in her bathroom.

“What’s going on in here?” The voice makes Janis jump six feet, even though it’s the honey-toned voice of one of the older nurses. “Little makeover.”

“Just wanted to look nice today,” she explains as she unscrews the foundation. She’s a little bit surprised to see that she’s not out of practice since she’s been bare-faced for well over a week now. Bigger priorities and all that.

“Her girlfriend’s coming over today,” her mom says in a low voice.

“It’s not just that,” she says, even though it might be. “Damian will also be here.”

“Oh you kids and your relationships,” the nurse chuckles as she takes the empty bags out. In the mirror, Janis sees her point sternly in her direction as though she were her mother. “Just remember Janis, if she really cares about you, she won’t care how much muck you have on your face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says as she applies a coat of eyeshadow, deep indigo and sparkling under the low lights. She adds a generous amount of purple lipstick next, a shade that’s always been a favourite of hers, and four coats of mascara. Some say that’s overkill, she disagrees. Bigger, bolder, better after all.

She takes a second before looking at herself properly, and when she does it makes her happier than it has any right to be. She looks like herself again. Not a girl with cancer. A girl who is perfectly healthy and happy, the dark circles around her eyes and the pale tint to her face deliberate. Not only that, she feels stronger, even though she hadn’t been aware of any weakness before. She can breathe easier now. She’s herself again. A little winded but it was worth it.

When she’s done, Cady and Damian should get out of school in about ten minutes. They worked it all out; they’ll get the first bus from school up to the hospital, which should take about twenty-five minutes. She offered to pay their bus tickets and her mom had offered to pick them up, but neither one of them would hear any of it. Damian in particular would die before accepting money from anyone.

So she has just over half an hour. Maybe closer to forty minutes when factoring in waiting for the bus and various stops…

She probably should have left the make-up to later just to give herself something to do.

No, it’s fine. The last thing she wants is them walking in on her doing her make-up. Besides, there’s plenty to do for half an hour. She’s waited this long after all. She checks her outfit again, first in the bathroom mirror, by bouncing repeatedly, and then by using the camera on her phone. This morning she was sure about this outfit. Now she’s not sure about this skirt. Maybe if her mom had woken her up earlier she’d have had more time to plan it. The shirt is fine, it’s something Cady loves, so she won’t trade it, but the skirt… it’s not working. She grabs more stuff from her bag and lays it out on the bed, debating each one carefully. There’s a pair of studded shorts that she doesn’t think looks right with the shirt, a pair of jeans that would be far too uncomfortable, and a dark grey skirt that she’s not worn that much and is a little short-

“Holy crap,” she sighs. She shakes her head at herself. She hasn’t obsessed this much over her looks since middle school. “You’re insane, Sarkisian. You’re fine.”

They’ve both seen her look worse, surely.

She forces herself to sit on the bed and just watch some freaking YouTube like a normal person. She gets a text from Damian telling her they’re on their way, and she takes a deep breath and sends a response. She then has one eye on the phone and one eye on the window, all the while counting the minutes until they should be here.

Twenty five minutes. One video later, it’s twenty one. Another video, eighteen. Another video, plus a sip of the coffee her mom got her, fourteen. Another video, plus re-checking her make-up, ten. Another video, six. Another video, three.

And now they should be here. They probably are; they’re probably walking through the lobby. Maybe the elevator’s a little slow, maybe they got lost. This is a big place and they don’t even know where they ward is. Do they? Did she tell them? She grabs her phone and checks their groupchat, scrolling through the week-

“Janis?” Her name is accompanied by a soft knock on the door, and when she looks up, Cady is standing in the doorway, looking even more beautiful than she did that morning with a breathless smile and dimples in her cheeks. And everything else she was feeling melts away.

Janis doesn’t care about dignity, she runs over and throws her arms around her. As Cady hugs her back just as fiercely, Janis fights the urge to pick her up off the floor.

“I missed you,” Cady whispers into her shoulder.

“I missed you more,” she replies, certain that she’s correct.

“Well I’ll just go then,” Damian jokes. “If you two need a moment alone.”

“Don’t even think about it,” she tells him seriously, jumping into his embrace. He runs his hand through her hair and even rocks her and everything about his embrace feels right.

“Got you these,” he says when they eventually pull apart. He presents her with a bunch of white flowers wrapped in silver paper. The scent is just like the gesture; so sweet it makes her well up.

“Oh you losers,” she says. “I love them.”

“Hi kids,” her mom greets from her chair in the corner. To be honest, Janis had actually forgotten her mom was there. So her mom has watched her run across the room and tackle-hug Cady. Nice. “How was school?”

“It’s fine,” Cady replies. “You know… senior year….”

“Oh I’m sure it is,” she says fondly. “I’ll give you kids some alone time.” She gives Janis’ shoulder a squeeze before heading out, and then Janis can hold Cady’s hand as tightly as she wants and pulls the two of them to the bed, utterly giddy at having them at her side again.

Even if it won’t last a voice in her head whispers.

“So come on, what have I missed?” she asks. “Other than you two, I mean. Tell me everything. Spill all the tea. I crave gossip!”

“It’s been a week, Jan,” Cady tells her, grinning and swinging her legs as her feet don’t touch the floor. “But, you do know that you’re talking to the newest captain of the North Shore Mathletes.”

“Come on then.” Janis digs her elbow in her girlfriend’s ribs. “Tell me everything.”

That’s all the incentive Cady needs.

She babbles on about her plans for the new year as Captain, how she’s already getting new recruits and she’s even allowed to invite freshmen and create Junior Mathletes, how she’s sure that membership is going to be double what it was last year (at which point Damian reminds her that there were only three people on the team last year), and about how they’re already starting to put together teams for a few contests, more than last year, and of course, how she’s ready to defend their state champion title. With each word, Janis’ heart grows warmer, the sense of security she’s craved all week settling and wrapping around her like her favourite blanket, and their hands lie intertwined on the bed a though they’d never been apart.

“So that’s my life…” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. She shakes her head and covers Janis’ hand with hers. “But what about you, what’s it like in here?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she scoffs. “I’m always fine.” Cady’s smile dips, not enough, but Janis notice and let out a sigh. “I mean it’s not the ideal situation. But I’m… coping?”

“I do not like that inflection,” Damian adds, leaning back on the bed and raising an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t,” she says. “Like, it’s not too bad. You know… the food is actually pretty good, we have some cool stuff in the longue, they know how to keep us occupied. The doctors are all great. Including one hot med student I’m considering setting Damian up with.”

“Consider my attention grabbed,” he says. “How hot are we talking here?”

“Like… Okay I’m not into dudes, so I’m not that great at guessing, but he’s a solid 7.5,” she explains. “Would be a 9 but he stabbed me several times while trying to find a vein.”

“He did what?” Cady squeals, making the two of them jump. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. “He stabbed you?”

“Woah, yeah.” She grasps Cady’s shoulder and silently bites her tongue. She rubs it in circles, bringing her back down. “And it hurt for a few seconds and I was slightly annoyed by it. And then we laughed about it.” She strokes Cady’s cheek carefully. “Nothing bad, Caddy.”

“Okay.” Cady lets out a breath and shakes out her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, love.” She plays a kiss on her cheekbone, the tension fleeing Cady’s body as she does so. She tangles her fingers in her hair. She even missed her hair. “It’s cute that you worry so much.”

“I always worry about you.” At that moment, Damian turns his attention to the window, and Cady rests her head on Janis’ shoulder and Janis wraps her arms around her. This, the fearful looks and causing anxiety to her, this is what Janis wanted to avoid in the first place.

Damn Cady Heron and her unflinching loyalty.

“You’re feeling okay though?” she asks quietly. “Right?”

“Okay’s a bit of a relative term these days,” she says. “I’m feeling a bit bleh. But it’s fine.” Cady murmurs something she guesses is an agreement and nestles closer to her. Janis rubs her hand up and down her arm. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” She presses her cheek into her head and closes her eyes, only for a moment.

“Anyway, enough of that stuff,” she says, bouncing and turning to Damian, beckoning him back over. “There’s got to be more that I’ve missed. Come on, spill.”

“Well…” Damian begins, spinning around to face them with a grin stretched across his face. He’s been waiting to tell her this, she can tell. “They’ve announced that the musical this year will be… drum roll.”

She can Cady drum their hands on their legs, the sound bouncing off the walls and making the room tremble with anticipation as it gets higher and faster until-.

“Cabaret!”

“No way!” she gasps. Damian nods excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clapping his hands together. “Stars have aligned, mon amie. Stars have aligned.”

“Which means,” he goes on, throwing himself down on the bed with such gusto that it bounces. “I am going to be the greatest Emcee that North Shore High would ever wish to have.”

“Damn right!” The two high five, their glee double that of the slightly out of the loop Cady. “Emcee has been one of Damian’s dream roles ever since middle school.”

“Ever since I came out of the damn womb!” he exclaims. “I cannot tell you how much I screamed when the drama club announced it.”

“I can,” Cady adds. “It was loud and long and he got several death glares from everyone else.”

“That’s the only appropriate way to react,” Janis chuckles. “We watched the movie way back when and that’s when he decided he was going to play the Emcee or die trying.”

“It’s also when Janis became gay for Liza Minelli.”

“I’m gay for myself,” she corrects. “Liza was just the object of young Janis’ affections.” She rests her chin on Cady’s shoulder and smiles at him. “I’m helping you prep for this. I don’t care if I have to break out of here with an IV in my arm, I’m helping you.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replies. “Also the drama club is devastated you can’t do the set this year.”

“Who the heck says I can’t?” she says indignantly. “Those morons they have won’t last five minutes without my guidance. And I will not have your shining moment ruined by a subpar set.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “We all know who really runs that drama club.”

“Oh really, madame,” Damian scoffs, turning so his leg is folded beneath him. Janis keeps smiling, despite the feeling that its being tugged down and the weight settling in her stomach. Of all the times he had to do Cabaret, why did it have to be now?

“Everyone really missed you at school,” Cady tells her.

“Bet it’s not everyone,” she says, half joking. “Not one person in particular.”

“Hey!” Cady slaps her arm. “Be nice.”

“I promised to play nice to her face,” Janis reminds her. “Not behind her back.” Cady huffs out a laugh, her face slightly scrunched up. “But how’s the most important thing; LGBT+ society?”

“Well, we’re having our first welcome back meeting on Wednesday,” Damian says. “And Gretchen is taking over your stall at the fair. Sonja’s going to help her out though,” he adds. “And Sonja’s taking over your spot on the committee too.”

“Good choice,” she says. Lovely as Gretchen is most of the time, Janis isn’t sure she could handle the pressure of running her stall. And Sonja’s the perfect choice to take over her committee spot, smart as a whip, decisive and funny as hell.

So why does the idea make Janis so uneasy?

“Yeah, why don’t we turn this TV on?” she says, grabbing the remote. “It apparently has Netflix, although I’m not entirely sure how to operate it. There’s a load of DVDs in the longue as well.”

“A DVD. Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Damian says.

“I don’t think they have Cabaret though,” she sighs. “Which would be perfect for us right now.” She’s telling half-truths, because there’s a substantial collection of old movies, including musicals, but she doesn’t really want to brave the longue now, or to take them in there. The longue is probably her favourite place in the hospital, but it’s bound to be full right now. And for now, she wants to keep her cancer world and the real world separate.

So with some fussing, they manage to find Netflix and learn how to work it. Cady is insistent that Janis pick the movie, since it’s her room and she doesn’t know half of them and has already watched the other half. At the start of the summer, Janis had made Cady a list of every movie she needed to watch, and by the end of August they’d almost made it to the halfway mark. The best part wasn’t the movies themselves; it was the movie nights. Huddled under a comforter and surrounded by pillows, Cady’s body pressed against hers and the lights down low, buttery popcorn and sugar-covered candies keeping them going until one (usually Cady) fell asleep.

Now they make do with the thin hospital bed and the near-plastic sheets. At least they can adjust the height of it, and Janis positions Cady against her and Damian sits in the comfiest chair to watch The Parent Trap. It’s none of their favourites, but it’s familiar and good enough and while it wasn’t on the list, Cady hasn’t seen it yet. Besides, Damian can make any more fun.

And really, Janis can’t take any more of the back and forth debate.

The more the movie goes on, the more normal Janis feels. She runs her fingers up and down Cady’s bare arms, her girlfriend’s jacket discarded across a chair like she would in her house. The conversation is light and easy and full of giggles even at the stupidest, silliest thing, Damian quoting along with the movie and Cady hopelessly lost, especially at around halfway through when Janis decides to tell her that Annie and Hallie were played by the same person.

“No way!” she declares. “I’m not believing you until I see proof.”

“Google it,” she says. “Damian?”

“Way ahead of you.” He pulls up the page and shows her the cast list, with one little Lohan billed as the two twins. Cady’s mouth falls on the floor, her shoulders shaking in a silent, disbelieving laugh.

“Jesus Christ!” she says. “How did they do that all the way back then?”

“Movie magic,” Janis replies, wiggling her fingers for effect. “It’s okay, Caddy, we all felt betrayed when we first found out.”

“Didn’t she go off her rocker a bit?” she asks, pointing to the screen. “I know that much. Regina told me.”

“A little,” Janis agrees. “But I kind of feel bad for her, you know?”

“I guess.”

“Oh. Oh!” The camera pans up, revealing the striking and scary figure of Meredith Blake, and Janis squeezes Cady’s arms. “I hated this bitch.”

“I hated her more,” Damian adds, his tone not 100% light. “When I first watched this I had this soon-to-be stepmom, because my dad was back in the dating game, and she was…” He gags and points down his throat.

“Real mature, Damian,” Janis jokes. “I mean she absolutely was, but still. Mature.”

“Okay, missy,” he laughs. “Nah but I used to try to get inspiration from how to deal with her from this movie.”

“Shh!” she hisses sharply, covering Cady’s ears. “Spoilers!”

“I can still hear you,” Cady tells her. “And I could sort of guess. All the movies about step parents do that kind of thing, don’t they? Bratty kid gets wreaks havoc on the step parent?”

“Are you saying thirteen year old me was a brat?” Damian asks.

“Seventeen year old you is also a brat,” Janis teases. Damian gasps and grabs the cushion from the chair, aiming it at her head. Part of her is completely sure he wouldn’t, not in a hospital, part of her is completely sure he would because of course he would.

She doesn’t find out either way, because their gathering is interrupted by her medical team, and the weight in her stomach comes back with a vengeance.

“Not getting in the way are we?” Nurse Lucy asks.

“Not at all,” she says. Before she stops herself, she’s already pushing Cady off her. Heat rises in her cheeks. “That time again?”

“Unfortunately so,” she replies as Cady slides off the bed. “Is it okay if Jackson does it this time?”

“Yeah, sure.” As she rolls up her sleeve, her friends catch on to what’s happening, and Damian rushes to Cady’s side.

“I promise I’ll find the vein this time,” Jackson jokes.

“Oh this is the one you said-” Cady is cut off by Janis making a small ‘cut it out’ gesture with her hand. She then raises an eyebrow at Damian, whose small smirk tells her everything she needs to know.

She takes a look at her IV and her bare arm before turning back to them. She still hates this; shockingly, she hasn’t gotten used to it in under a week. Her stomach still drops a hundred feet when she looks at the needle and her chest tightens even if she’s only thinking about it.

“You guys don’t need to watch this,” she tells them. “It doesn’t hurt. But if you need to look away, it’s fine.”

“I’m fine,” Cady tells her. When Janis looks down though, she sees how tightly she’s holding Damian’s hand.

“Okay,” she says.

This time around it only takes Jackson three tries to find her vein before securing it with the bandage. Good for him. He’s learning.

“You know the drill by now?” Lucy asks.

“Two hours, stay hydrated.” She gives her a two-fingered salute.

“Two hours?” Cady echoes, and Janis has to chuckle at it. “This takes two hours?”

“That’s what she said the first time she found out,” Lucy says, gesturing to Janis. “I can see why you two like each other so much.”

“No but… two hours,” she says again as they leave. “What do you do for two hours?”

“I just… sit here I guess,” she answers, looking up at the medicine. “You know, there’s TV. I have books. I draw. Sometimes it knocks me out and I get a little surprise nap, so that’s fun.”

“Is that… should we go?” Cady asks. “If you’re going to-”

“Oh no.” She shakes her head firmly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.” She’s such a liar it’s a wonder her tongue hasn’t turned black and crumbled. “Come on. Let’s finish the movie at least.”

Cady lays beside her rather than on her, and Damian stays on the other side of the bed, away from her IV. She catches him once or twice, watching the drip instead of the movie. His gaze is unreadable, and since she’s always been able to know his thoughts without him speaking, it unsettles her.

It’s not long before that familiar tiredness descends on her, clouding her mind and pulling her downwards. And she fights it; she keeps her eyes open despite how they itch and shifts her body when she finds herself too comfortable lest she start drifting off. It’s a challenge, not just because of the medicine’s effect on her, but because of Cady’s warmth next to her, promising security and comfort and being there when she wakes up.

And she must have given into it at one point, because she opens her eyes after a blink and the movie is over; Nick and Elizabeth are together again, Annie and Hallie stay with each other forever, happy endings all around.

“What time is it?” Janis asks.

“Nearly five,” Damian explains. Visiting hours don’t end for another two hours. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” she asks. “I’m fantastic.”

“You sure?” Cady’s hand is on hers, slowly linking their fingers together. Janis squeezes her hand, clarity coming into her mind by her own will.

“Of course I’m sure.”

They don’t have to be home for another hour. Home for dinner, that’s the rule. That doesn’t really change. Damian tells her that his mom is thinking about her every day and was beside herself when she heard the news.

“She’s started following more baking blogs,” he tells her. “So prep yourself for a lot of baked goods on your doorstep.”

“I can’t object to that,” she says. “Especially since Val always bakes with love.”

At some point during the hour, Janis pulls Cady into her lap again, or Cady crawls into it, or both. Her head is under her chin and her back against her chest, slotting into place perfectly. Like if she holds her this close, she won’t have to leave.

Wishful thinking, she knows, because when it gets close to six, Cady picks up her jacket and her backpack and there’s nothing but empty air against Janis’ body.

She wishes she could lead them to the door, but her IV catches on everything, so they say their goodbyes where they are.

“Don’t miss me too much,” she warns them teasingly.

“I hardly ever think about you,” Damian replies, his voice thick.

“And you,” she tells him. “Better run lines with me. When’s auditions?”

“Next Thursday,” he tells her. “So I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Perfect,” she says. “I have treatments at 11, at 2… You know what? I’ll text you them.”

“Okay. And you were right by the way. That med student is a snack.” They laugh, and then there’s a moment of silence before he folds her in his arms, her face burying itself in the crook of his neck and his hand cupping the back of her head. “Take of yourself, okay?” His voice is so soft, so desperate, that it sounds like a plea.

“I will,” she says. “I always do.” Knowledgeable as always, he gives her and Cady space to say goodbye themselves. She rubs her hand on her shorts, nervousness gripping her body in a way she hasn’t felt in a while and she thoroughly dislikes.

“I’ll text you the second I get home,” Cady says. “And can I call you tomorrow?”

“Of course you can,” she says. “As long as you get some homework done tonight, kid.”

“I will,” she says. “I didn’t get the top grade in Norbury’s class for nothing.” Cady takes in a deep breath, her hand fidgeting around her backpack strap and her hair half-hiding her face. Janis reaches out and pushes it back and if she notices her shaking hand, she doesn’t say anything.

“Caddy-”

Janis actually wasn’t sure what she was going to say there, but it doesn’t matter, because Cady steps up and kisses her. It’s not perfect; it feels clumsy and awkward and they bump against each other, but it’s everything Janis needs. So much so that when they pull away, she doesn’t even attempt to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Okay,” she whispers, grinning. “I’ll see you soon.” She steals another peck.

“See you later, Janis,” she whispers. They don’t stop holding hands for as long as they can and Janis is still looking at her until she’s out of view, walking back down the hall with Damian, maybe getting lost again. Down the hall, to the right, into the elevator and out the double doors. Bus stop down the street, next stop home. They ride together until Damian gets off and Cady stays on. All the while she stays here, IV in arm and her phone buzzing, talking to them until she falls asleep.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #cadnis #cady x janis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #damian hubbard #fic: heart of stone

12 notes · View notes

jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Distant Connection - 8/11

Pairing: Bucky x Harmonia (OC) Warnings: mentions of wicca/witchcraft, mention of parents death, gossiping about main character Summary: After an unknown group of goons took her mom’s life and tried to get her for the dark magic powers she possesses, this untaught witch is saved by the Avengers and brought to the compound where her new life unfolds.

MASTERLIST || Distant Connection Masterlist

There was music on in the whole common area but nobody in-sight. “Friday? Why is there music playing?” A confused Harmony stood in the door. “Mr. Barton left it on a while ago and I turned it down and changed to a more relaxed type. Protocol.” Came back from the AI. “Can I have a dance, lady?” Her favorite deep voice suddenly whispered beside her. “I can’t dance like that.” She giggled but it was too late. He pulled her close to him and started dancing slowly for her to get used to it. “What was that? You can’t dance?” He smiled softly. “I learn fast...but I hate giving control away. Can you blame me?” She smiled with her eyes fixed on his. “Not at all,” he said very softly, almost whispered. There was an extra whirl and she was back where she was before again. “When did you decide to be Prince Charming?” She joked about his charming behavior. “If there’s music playing and I see a pretty girl...I can’t not ask her for a dance. That would just be rude.” he said with the biggest smile splitting his face. “Wish I’d be wearing the right attire for it.” she chuckled at her shorts and sweater outfit. “A pretty woman doesn’t need to wear special clothes to look good,” he said serious and ended with an innocent smile. “Also true. Maybe it’s helping that I stole this from you.” She giggled at the sweater situation. “Did you see what I added to your sketchbook?” He asked giving her another whirl. He had drawn her on the kitchen counter eating pancakes. It was a cute little doodle. The little note under it said “My favorite Avenger. Don’t tell the others!” “It’s adorable. You should start drawing too.” She meant it, he wasn’t bad. “If you model for it. Sure.” His smile was worth a million dollars and he squeezed her waist a little with his metal hand. She knew it was a lot for him to do little gestures like that and gave him a little smile and stood still before he pulled her waist closer to him all the way and closed the distance for a kiss.

“No magic in the common area.” A voice from the door said all of a sudden. Tony. They instantly broke apart and a magic field she had created around them disintegrated. She didn’t do this by choice. It was a protection spell, purple. “Woah.” Came beside her as she looked around herself. “I never did that before. That’s a protection shield,” she mumbled shocked. “Neat,” he commented. “Neat? That’s the only thing that comes to your mind when that thing could’ve even withstood Tony’s blasters probably?” She said fake offended. “I doubt that.” Came from Tony that was sitting on the table by now. “We’ll try it someday.” She dared him before taking James’ hand and dragging him out of the room, into her room. “What the fuck,” she mumbled standing in the middle of her room. “Huh?” He didn’t understand. “I cast a spell without casting a spell. Let me research that,” she said before hurrying to get the books out of her bag. He just sat down on her bed since he knew there was no stopping her when it came to this. She went through multiple pages in multiple books. “A protection spell can be cast without using words. All it needs for a trained witch is the intention and intuition,” she read out loud. “So...you deeply care about me and your soul wants me protected. Am I getting that right?” He asked laying on the edge of the bed with his face to be able to watch her concentrated face. “Yeah, pretty much,” she mumbled and looked up to see a soft smile. “If I could do that I would probably do the same...but I’m not as cool,” he said with a little shrug of his shoulders. “Have you seen yourself using a knife?” She asked seriously shocked at him not thinking his skills were cool. “Yeah, not as cool as magic,” he said chuckling. “Well, yeah. But pretty hot at least.” She gave him a smirk. “You really think you don’t look hot when you do magic stuff? Cause I can tell you...you are. Like, a lot,” he said while she laid down next to him. She intertwined their fingers and whispered into his ear, “Then show me how hot.” He had goosebumps all over his body “Not here,” he mumbled. “No, exactly here. I don’t fucking care.” She was serious. “Damn, you’re getting pretty confident in the last few days,” he said sitting up a bit and smiling at her sitting down on his lap. “Why wouldn’t I?” She smiled and broke the distance between them again. She felt his fingers digging into her thighs and couldn’t hold back the little sound building up in her throat. He loosened the grip a little out of fear of hurting her and started making little circles up and down her thighs while having her hands in his hair. All the 115 beats of her heart per minute were faintly audible to him and gave him an ASMR sensation. He never heard these so close in a positive context outside of saving someone. She moved back a bit and broke the kiss apart breathless. “How do you do it? How am I not feeling any pain from my past when I’m with you?” she asked with a soft smile and a glimmer in her eyes making him feel more alive than ever. “I could ask you the same.” his left hand started cupping her face. It felt weird for him but she blew every doubt away when she leaned into it with a comfortable smile. That was an image he won’t ever forget, something about her feeling so okay with something so out of this world for others. “My Harmony,” he mumbled with the most content smile he had ever smiled. “My safe place.” She smiled but then started giggling, “Sorry, there just isn’t a way to make something romantic out of your name.” “Fair enough...until you have part of it, it just isn’t that romantic.” He chuckled and watched her blush at his little suggestion. Harmony just wanted to answer when there was a knock on her door and they moved apart and fixed their hair before she said, “Who is it?” “Clint. Have you seen my wallet? Lost it somewhere in the compound yesterday. Has a picture of my family in it,” he said through the door. She stood up and opened the door a little, “How did you manage to do that?” “It’s called trust, Harmony!” He said serious but joking. “Haven’t seen a wallet but will tell you if I do. Probably one of the boys pranking you. Maybe Tony or Sam?” She smiled. “A billionaire stealing wallets?” He asked. “It’s Tony, not just any billionaire.” She chuckled. “I’ll investigate that,” he said squinting. “Good luck, dork.” She giggled and closed the door again. Behind her a smirking James in the little hallway of her mini-apartment. “I’ll beat your ass if you did that.” She gave him a death glare and his smirk vanished. “Maybe?” he said making himself seem smaller which never worked with his giant body. “Give it to me.” she held her hand out and with an eye roll he got it out of his back pocket and put it into her hand. She gave him a little clap on the side of his head smiling before leaving the room and searching for Clint to give it back. After she didn’t come back to her room for a while he decided to leave her room and see where she has been all that time, just to find her in the kitchen cooking herself some lunch. Clint was sitting at the table with his wallet in front of him and a glass of cola. Without thinking twice he crept up behind Harmony to hug her and look at the food in the pan. “Don’t even ask if you can have some of it. It’s just for me, Clint if he wants to and maybe the team. You come last today,” she said serious but with a soft smile on her lips. “Come on, Harmony! Please,” he mumbled and got a head shake back. “Pretty please.” He continued and attacked her with a kiss on her cheek. “Ugh, fine. Second to last. Sam is still worse than you,” she said annoyed but still with a hint of a smile on her face. “Hey!” came back from Sam who was just walking in with the others. “She’s right,” James said looking at him now and shrugging. “You’re biasing her!” Came back. “Nah. You are a little bit more annoying than the rest. Although Tony, Clint and this idiot here are close,” she said flinging around with her fork before getting back to her stir fry creation. “That’s my girl,” James said proudly hugging her again and staring at the food. “Get a room.” someone mumbled from behind and she felt his hands forming fists before laying her free hand onto one of them gently. “Ouch! Why?” came from Sam which made her smile. “Because that’s disrespectful!” Wanda answered in a serious tone. Meanwhile, James had taken a fork from a drawer right to him and took some food. He knew Sam being a prick gave him a free pass. “Can’t wait for Sam to have a girlfriend that constantly does exactly that. Every single time.” Harmony chuckled and started putting the food onto plates. James helped her put the plates in front of all of them and they sat down next to each other shortly after.

It was the first time that Harmony was eating with the others at this table. It was a bit strange but she knew by now that the last thing anyone did was judge her shy reactions and introversion. “That tastes so good. Good to know you like it a little spicy.” Wanda said across the table with a soft smile. A lot of veggies and a little bit of tomato sauce just needed spices in her opinion. Otherwise it just tasted like a weird mix of watery veggies. “Thanks.” she smiled shyly but proud. The rest of the team went deep into a discussion about the educational system while James and Harmony were sitting there in content silence while listening to the others. Steve and Clint were at the height of their discussion with everyone throwing in sentences when she just smiled at James and leaned over to give him a little kiss. Everyone went silent and only Steve continued before he realized nobody was listening anymore. “Uuh-” came from a few chairs down. “If you continue that sentence I will throw this plate at your head so exact that even Clint would be impressed!” Her shyness suddenly vanished. She felt a hand on her thigh and relaxed a little bit again but she definitely wasn’t a fan of being the center of attention. “Since when?” Came from Nat with a smirk. “Elevator incident,” Steve answered for Harmony. “You knew this and didn’t tell us?” Came from the other side of the table. “Tony also knows since this morning and apparently didn’t tell you. So…” the witch answered shrugging. “It’s not like we were trying to hide it.” James smiled. “You just were used to seeing us being close anyway.” she chuckled.

13 notes · View notes

chiimei · 7 years

Text

A New Path - Chapter 14

I'm sorry for the late update. I was and will be quite busy with school till 22th of June. Dx After that I would update on the regular schedule, so every Saturday. I also want to thank @aitchhdee for giving me ideas of the akuma villain in this chapter. Another huge thanks to my beta’s @chatlovingshipper and Tjikicew (of AO3) too! I hope you would like this chapter, enjoy reading~

Short Story Summary: The akumatized villains are getting stronger. Ladybug and Chat Noir are no longer able to protect Paris on their own, there’s a need for a new hero. And that would be Nathaniel, the new fox hero in town.

C.1 | C.2 | C.3 | C.4 | C.5 | C.6 | C.7 | C.8 | C.9 | C.10 | C.11 | C.12 | C.13 |

FF | AO3

"Yes! My plan worked. Not per plan, but I was still able to get a drawing from tomato boy."

Chloé giggled to herself as she was rolling on her bed while hugging her pillow. After she got her hands on that drawing, her chances becoming famous would go up. Being friends with a newbie is way easier than who are already famous, though she's already besties with Ladybug. However, it wouldn't hurt to get even closer to her and proudly present that to the world. She would be known as the bestie of Ladybug! Unlike Lila, she wouldn't lie then.

As soon as Nathaniel got home, he opened his sketchbook and started to draw. It was quite funny to think he had to draw himself for Chloé of all people. He still wondered what she would do with the drawing. Wouldn't it veritably be better to ask for some journalist or great photographer if she wanted some details? Well, he wouldn't show himself so easily. He didn't like too much attention after all. Besides that, the real heroes are Ladybug and Chat Noir. He couldn't just take away their spotlight.

"Hey, don't you think Chloé started to get nicer by the day?"

Inarii flew out of Nathaniel's pocket and sat next to the sketchbook. Somehow her acting all nice, still bratty, but seemly felt weird. It was suspicious that she came to Nathaniel out of everyone to ask such a request. Though it wouldn't be so bad to for his partner to have a fan as well. He would be rather happy for him. Nathaniel needed some more love after all.

"I guess she isn't that hostile to me anymore. Maybe because I also started to act friendly to her."

Already a week had passed before he finally finished his drawing for Chloé. It took longer than Nathaniel expected to make an excellent drawing that would satisfy her. He would from time to time show her the work in process and she had some critic from time to time, but other than that she was absolutely pleased with it. During those days, she didn't sit next to him and when she did come to his table, she would ask about the drawing. However, lately she also asked about other things. Like what he planned to do with the money she gave him, what his plans were in his free time besides drawing, asking about his parents. She seemed to be more interested in him? He was genuinely curious if she honestly wants to be friends with him. Or she might plan something big against him. Who knows, Chloé is unpredictable.

"So, are you done with the drawing today, tomato head?"

Even though she may have some interest in him, she still hadn't used his first name at all without also adding his surname. Well, he got used to the nicknames she calls him, he also addresses her as drama queen or something similar. Besides that, Chat Noir also called him by some nicknames, so he didn't mind this.

"Yeah, I'm done with the drawing."

Nathaniel bowed slightly so he could grab the sketchbook out of his bag. He placed it on the table and flipped through the pages till he reached the commissioned drawing. When he was on the right page, he glanced to Chloé to see what her reaction would be. She appeared to be… very stunned? It was like she was perplexed or something. She kept staring at the drawing with her eyes wide. Her hand was against her mouth as if she wanted to hold back a scream by doing that.

Chloé couldn't help but have the urge to scream. The artwork was so stunning, she couldn't say anything at all for a few seconds. She wanted to scream and tell Nathaniel that it looked amazing. That it looked so realistic as if he took a picture of Vulpino. She knew that Nathaniel was more of the cartoonist, so she didn't expect him to draw realistic as well and in such a fascinating way. The previous time he showed the drawing, everything was still flat. The shading absolutely made everything pop up. Even the colors are spot on with the original. The texture seems so picturesque too! She couldn't help but just stare at it with awe. Though she shouldn't act all too happy about it, that would only represent herself as lame. So, she slowly closed her eyes and once she opened them, she pretended to be calm. Her amazed look got replaced by an expression as if she was uninterested.

"It looks good enough. You did a great job. As reward for doing an exceptional work, how about I treat you to a drink? Or maybe some ice cream?"

"Pfft, you can be more honest about what you think about this illustration, but sure, I won't say no to that offer. How about some ice cream?"

Nathaniel chuckled as he thought Chloé was being amusing now. They both seemed to be in a good mood, since Chloé offered to treat him and he even accepted it. Well, it wouldn't hurt to hang out with Chloé even after school.

One young lady, one woman, one man. They were all sitting together in the living room. Tears were falling from the young lady's eyes. Her brunette bangs almost covered her eyes as she gazed down. The others were gazing down as well. It was silent. Only the sound of the ticking from the clock and the sound of soft breathing could be heard.

"Is it true?"

The brunette lady mumbled under her breath. She used her voice so softly as she didn't want to be heard, as if she was being careful. She balled her hands into a fist so tightly, that it made her fingers almost white. She tried her best to hold back her tears, but she couldn't.

"Mom…Dad… Is it true?"

She spoke louder and gazed at the man and woman sitting across of her. Her voice sounded hoarse, as if she had been screaming for a long time. She stared hopefully at them, her eyes were almost begging for them to tell her it wasn't true. However, none of them looked her in the eye. Her father leaned his face on his hands, while his upper body was leaning forward. Her mother fixed her eyes on her hands.

"I ask you if it's true! Please tell me it isn't… I'm not… truly auntie's real daughter, right?"

It was her so-called mother who finally opened her mouth. She took a deep breath before speaking and locked her eyes on her supposed daughter. In her eyes, sadness could be seen. What does that mean? Did it genuinely mean that she's not her real daughter?

"It's…true, Tia. Your aunt had some troubles in the past, so I raised you instead. I never told you, because I truly cared about you! You're my daughter now, so there was no real need to tell you. I considered you as my own child, not my little sister's child. She… didn't want you. Instead of making you an orphan, I wanted to raise you as my own…"

Tia didn't listen to her anymore. When her supposed mother said, it was true, her mind closed off from the real world. She didn't want to hear excuses. She didn't want to hear the reason. She didn't want to hear anything at all regarding this. Thus, she stood up. Tears were flowing down as she glared at her parents.

"You are all liars! I hate you!"

She shouted out of frustration and ran out of the room, out of the house. She heard someone calling after her, but she didn't stop. She kept on running, getting outside, leaving the place that she considered as her home. She ended up in the park and cried her heart out under a tree.

"Lies… Everything is a lie…"

She softly mumbled to herself. She still didn't want to believe she was not their real daughter. All those seventeen years, they lied to her, they deceived her. Why didn't they tell her? Was she not supposed to find out? Was she not worth the truth? What is… even the truth?

She glanced down at her locket necklace, opening the locket to see their family picture. Her with her father, mother and her older brother. Did he… know about this too? Did her aunt… or her actual mother honestly wanted to get rid of her? Every time she visited her, she looked so weirdly at her. She was always curious why… Hence, this is what it meant? Didn't she want her after all those years?

Tia ripped the necklace off her and threw it on the ground. She didn't want to see her fake family anymore. She leaned her head on her knees and placed her hands on her head. She wanted to scream, but her voice couldn't escape out of her throat. It was hard to breath. Everything felt so suffocating. She felt like she was getting trapped. As if there was a cage around her, which gets smaller and smaller by the second. What was even her real home now? She had no place to go to.

If only her family hadn't keep her birth a secret. If only they told her the truth from the beginning. Would things have gone better? She kept wondering and wondering, while feeling cold and alone. If only someone could save her from her confusing state, from this dark pit she was in.

Little did she know that there was a certain black butterfly flying in the sky in search for her. Once it reached its destination, it approached the necklace on the ground. The black butterfly got absorbed and covered the whole necklace black. Tia looked up and stared in front of her as she suddenly heard a voice in her head. The skin color around her eyes changed into a redder brown color. A pink butterfly-shaped outline appeared in front of her eyes as well. She heard the voice of someone unknown. Who was he? Was he… her savior?

"Truth Seeker, I'm Hawk Moth. I'll give you powers. From now on, no one will lie to you ever again. You will make everyone tell the truth and even bring out their deepest secrets so no one would ever feel deceived and hurt again. At the same time, you need to find out the weakness of Ladybug and Chat Noir and bring me back their miraculous."

"Yes, Hawk Moth."

She smirked and stood up, making the red brown mark on her face and the outline disappear. She bowed down to grab her necklace and put it around her neck again. As soon as she did so, her whole body got covered into some dark energy. Her clothes transformed into a strapless long sleeved dress with rose patterns at the ruffled edges. The front of her dress reached to her knees and her sleeves became larger extending to her wrist. She wore a white butterfly-shaped mask and had white wings attached to her back. Her hair grew longer down to her knees and turned white as well.

As soon as her transformation was complete, she flew to the first person she spotted. She smiled as she was floating in front of him. He on the other took a step back out of fear. She put her hand against her left cheek and tilted her head slightly to the left, while smiling kindly to the guy.

"Where are you going, young man?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm busy. I have to go."

The guy didn't want to get involved with this strange looking woman. She seemed dangerous even though she appeared like an angel, maybe she was an akumatized villain again. Hopefully Ladybug and Chat Noir would arrive to save the day. He wasn't busy, but maybe this woman will let him go if he made that excuse. He quickly turned around to leave, to run away from this villain. However, she stood right in front of him again. As if she moved faster than the speed of light.

"LIES!"

Suddenly the green brown eyes of Secret Revealer glowed red and her hair went all different ways, as if gravity didn't exist for her hair. Everything that was white, turned into black. She flew closer to him, which made him take a step aside, ending up standing against the glass of a window shop. Her hair looked like black snakes, wanting to take a bite at him. She tilted her head to the right and gave him a big smile with wide eyes. Her eyes were still glowing red. She had that look of a psychopathic woman who was ready to murder someone.

"You're not telling the truth, are you?"

"I'm sorry! I lied! I just wanted to get away. Please let me go!"

Her hair went down again, as if gravity came back. She smiled kindly now, while everything changed to white again. Her hair, her wings, her dress and mask. She threw a white feather towards the guy's chest, which got absorbed.

The guy was shocked to see how the feather got inside of him. However, he felt no different. He held out his hands and checked his body out, there was no difference in appearance either. He looked at the woman in front of him all confused, which made her smile broader instead.

"So where do you plan to go?"

"N-nowhere particular, I'm just going home."

He lied to her again, he was in fact planning to visit his best friend, but why would he tell her about that? She also didn't seem to have some special powers. Seems like the only thing she could do is change all black and make people scared. However, he got that wrong…

Just when she turned all black again, he felt something in his chest. It was so painful that he fell on his knees. It was as if he couldn't breathe no longer. It was as if his heart suddenly stopped beating.

"Home… So, you have a home huh. Liars like you don't deserve such a place. If you don't want to suffer, tell me the truth. Or am I not worth the truth!"

Again, her eyes were glowing red. It was as if they expressed her anger. Quickly the guy told her he was planning to go to see his friend. After that, the pain lifted, however, his left arm suddenly disappeared.

"For every lie you tell, your limps will disappear. One after another. Liars shouldn't need to exist after all."

She smiled satisfied as she saw him totally panicking about his arm. Even Hawk Moth seemed to be happy about this as she could hear him laugh.

"Good, good. With this, Ladybug and Chat Noir will surely appear! Even Vulpino would appear, so take his miraculous as well if you're taking them anyway."

"Yes, Hawk Moth."

She said and flew up, high in the sky. Before she would go to her destination, she would spin around and throw the feathers to as many people as she could. Many people got hit by them and many people seemed to suffer at it. She could hear the screams of the liars from below. As she heard them, she made an expression as if she was disgusted of humanity.

"So many liars..."

Her outfit started to get darker and darker. However, it wasn't pitch black like before. Which means there were also some honest people in this city. She wouldn't take that for granted though, her outfit was already dark gray, so most people she hit were liars.

"So can you tell me what you plan to do with the drawing now? I'm really curious you know."

Nathaniel and Chloé got out of the ice cream parlour. Nathaniel got a cherry ice cream cone, while Chloé got a vanilla honey frozen yoghurt, which she ate out of a paper cup. Chloé poked her spoon in her frozen yoghurt and looked at Nathaniel slightly annoyed. She was about to tell him it was private, until she suddenly saw something flying towards Nathaniel at full speed.

"Look out!"

She quickly stood in front of him and got hit by the unknown white object in her chest instead. She had her eyes closed and her arms spread, while still holding the plastic spoon on one hand and the paper cup on the other. She slowly opened her eyes to look at herself. She expected that something would happen to her, but nothing felt or appeared different. Was it just her imagination?

Nathaniel looked confused at Chloé. He noticed that something was going towards his direction as well, however Chloé responded faster than him. She even tried to protect him, but why? He took a step forward to take a better look at her. She didn't seem to be hurt, so was it just their imagination? It couldn't be right? She saw it as well.

"Are you alright Chloé? You're not hurt, are you? Why did you even try to protect me?"

"I didn't protect you! Don't take it the wrong way, I don't like you at all. It was just- "

She wasn't even able to finish her sentence as she felt a pang in her chest. She let everything fall out her hands on the ground and placed her hands on her heart. She clenched her clothes tightly and fell on her knees.

"W-what is this?"

She breathed out heavily, as if it was hard to speak. She tried to take deep breaths, since she was feeling no air coming in her. She kept on breathing, but it felt like her heart wasn't pounding anymore. Why? Why was she feeling suddenly like this? Was it just a late after effect? She was fine just a while ago. Where did this huge pain come from?

"Liars, liars, liars. This city is full of filthy liars! Those who suffer of pain now told a lie. Only the truth will make your suffering stop. I am Truth Seeker and all of you liars should disappear!"

A loud voice echoed around the city. Nathaniel looked confused, to see where the voice came from. He scanned his surrounding and saw more people suffering the same state as Chloé. Some were crying loudly or screaming out of pain. Some lied down and curled themselves up into a ball, hoping that would help. There was something else he noticed. Someone was floating in front of the Eiffel Tower. It couldn't be anyone else than the one who caused this!

"Quickly Chloé, tell me the truth. It will relieve you from the pain."

At least, if he could trust what this Truth Seeker said. This would be very difficult for Chloé though, she wasn't an honest person. At least, if it was about something nice.

"F-fine…! I did protect you!"

The pain was too much for her, that even she would tell the truth, even if she didn't want to. She shouted out what she denied before and indeed, her pain disappeared, but…so did one of her legs.

[ Next Chapter ]

#miraculous ladybug #nathaniel kurtzberg #chloe bourgeois #chlonath #hawk moth #ml fanfiction #A New Path #vulpino

27 notes · View notes