Fake Hope

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It was Saturday. Adrien sighed, finally a day to relax. No annoying blondes, or having to deal with how a new bluenette is. His father probably didn't even care if he lied on his bed all day. Still, he got up into his casual clothes and began playing the piano in ease.

It felt better to play than when he was being instructed. It irritated him to be forced to play something he didn't like. For some time, he kept on playing Claire De Lune but soon grew tired of the same play and stopped. He hadn't felt like playing piano for so long.

He remembered.

How it had felt to first see this sleek black. He had requested his mother for it for his next birthday, and his father got it as a mere excuse for him to shut up...probably. Adrien played with passion, unable to stop. His father mistook it as talent, staging up the poor boy to stardom in the world of music, leading his passion into hate. Into despise.

He knew somewhere he still had the love of music, but he knew it could take long to unlock it. He sat playing a frustrated tune when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

"Adrien, open the door."

For a second he froze, his father wished to speak to him? On a Saturday?

"You have hands, open it yourself."

He muttered, even so, he opened the door.

His dad was wearing a formal attire, causing Adrien to inwardly sigh. This meant an entire lecture on dressing for some important client who's an absolute prick, or a too joyous ball of sunshine. He nodded in understanding, closing the door. He heard his father mutter, "You don't leave till dismissed."

But ignored it.

He had dressed up in seconds, one thing he actually used of his many 'talents was his father's course in garment. Style and attire, what class one with held. Nathalie instructed that he is to stay in his room until summoned.

What is he? Rapunzel stuck in a tower?

He was then 'summoned' for the greeting, when suddenly the unexpected happened.

He saw Marinette. Right beside the client.

She wore a pink frock with a flower design at the top right with her hair in a ponytail. She was smiling and looking down, but he could easily identity the hint of sadness in her eyes.

For a second he forgot everything, before regaining his composure to greet them.

He shook hands with her father. Then kissing her hand he stood back up.

"Adrien, take Ms. Dupain Cheng to your room, I hope you make sure her visit stays good and I needn't hear any complaints of you being insolent."

"Of course father."

He then walked up the stairway to see Marinette on his heels. He picked up his pace as she followed him to his room.

"That's the couch and TV, you can watch whatever you want."

"I don't watch TV."

He sighed.

"Look, there's an array of CDs and book collections here, go do something."

"Talk?"

"You sound very quiet, how come talking is all you want to do?"

He was growing impatient and Marinette could see it.

"Because I'm trying to! Never mind."

He saw the fight die in her eyes as she went over to sit by the windows, millions of Parisians going thorough their daily lives. He was a kid of culture, his father always said but he also understood feelings much could not.

Marinette hadn't fought him over him not talking, she had been venting about something else.

His eye twitched as he realized what he was about to do.

"What's wrong?"

"Dont you like being alone?"

"Marinette I'm not blind."

"You also said you don't like to talk."

"Can we move past that?"

"There is no we or past to pass from."

He pinched his nose in exasperation. Sighing for the thousandth time that day, he sat by her.

"Who upset you?"

"And you care? To broadcast it over the news tomorrow?"

"Marinette."

"Why does he have to do this!? Is the ability to dream such a crime? How awful can one be!-"

"Marinette!"

She looked at him gaping, as he angrily stared back. Tears had stained her cheeks as more filled her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I hate false hope that's what's wrong!"

"False hope for what?"

"That he cares, that he would actually care or think how I have feelings!"

"What happened?"

"This brunette maid in my house! She told me yesterday night that she overheard my father speaking of me. I was so excited thinking he'd finally come around to help me, talk to me or even see my designs! And then I find out he's only taking me to cause some news flash!"

She slapped her hands on her face.

"I would've been ok with it, because it something usual, but I was given hope it'd be different, it shattered everything built that night!"

Adrien knew how she felt, to be shown off. He remembered when his father had him wear horrendous fashion choices (Plad with stripes) just to cause a frenzy in newspapers.

He hugged her, his head screaming why as his heart felt content.

"Well music helps me calm, and drawing fashion does for you."

She stopped crying, her gaze shifting to the piano, "You play?"

"Yes."

"Could-"

He heard her whisper and stop, and if they hadn't been hugging, he probably would've never heard it. He'd been rude to her for so long, it's obvious she'd hesitate.

"Want me to play?"

She slightly froze, before nodding. He got up, guiding her to the seat beside the piano as He sat.

For a second, he saw blue. He felt rain. He remembered how yesterday it had begun to rain, and it had seemed just as colourful as the clear blue sky. And then he felt his fingers twitch, they wanted to play! His hands began moving, his mind whirring.

For a second, the world was his. The indigo birds had chirped, the baby blue sky had rest, and the rain lightly thundered on his Umbrella, reminding him he wasn't alone. He felt his heart igniting with passion as he began to play. The blue forever guiding him. He played and played with love, feeling like he was born again, as if happiness wasn't a thing in haiku, but real life. He played until he felt his eyes sparkle, until he saw the blue abyss smile. He stopped, realising the blue abyss had been the bluebell in front of him.

"That was wonderful! What do you call it?"

The blue had made him think of the rain, the first time. The very first time he ever-

"In the Rain! It's an original."

"Well I'm glad to hear it, it's quite a catch dear pianist.

She dipped.

"But, thank you for letting me hear that, you have a real passion for this music."

Adrien felt relieved, he felt happy someone realized it as a passion, not a talent or skill for him.

"In that case, I'll play again."

"I'd love to hear it, if it isn't a bother."

"None at all."

He played, the music whisking them to another entire universe, where they both felt the rain had played a big part I'm their life sometime...or place.

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