Marinette could go on about why she hated Adrien Agreste -- from his unfunny pranks to his ineffable attractiveness-ever since he had the audacity that day with the umbrella.
And yet, here she was fake-dating him while in love with a superhero.
...
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- It started the day of two things.
The day after Marinette Dupain-Cheng would last be just that: Marinette, the fashion-enthusiast and last one to class despite living a corner away in a bakery; a rosy-cheeked darling who knew little about superheros, stress, spite and any reason one might say, "Screw you, Agreste!"
But two things happened the day after.
One: She opened a box. Inside, of course, was an overtly perky ladybug god who informed her she'd now superintend every Parisian life there on out, all through the very unquestionable magic of earrings. But that was whatever, she supposed; Tikki was cool.
The second thing, she didn't want to talk about.
Marinette wasn't fond of Chloé Bourgeois—Mayor's daughter, she'd make clear—for a few reasons. Besides the obvious tackiness of her steel-blue eyeshadow and the whine that could make Marinette's last name rip her own ear canals, Chloé had a pattern of adding problems to her life. She managed to give the class detentions, headaches, and a reflexive flinch at the phrase, "I'm calling Daddy!"
So the day she announced, "Some boy I grew up with is joining our class," as she inspected her crappy manicure, Marinette knew nothing good was about to walk through Miss Bustier's room.
"A friend of Chloé's? We must be in for a treat," Alya, the new girl from the year before, jested, ribbing Marinette.
Chloé's blonde half-do lurched as she whipped around to sneer at the bespectacled girl. "Excuse you, brat, but we're hardly friends. Our parents just got along and are just richer than all of yours. He's technically nothing but a business associate to me."
That's when Marinette scoffed loudly. "Business associate? You were like, kids."
She angled her nose. "Oh get lost, Dupain-Cheng!"
A new student always interested the school year, but the 'entertaining' prospect of a snobby friend– uh, business associate of Chloé's soon became the last of Marinette's thoughts as she was thrust into the surely historical events an hour later that was 1) an akuma attack (don't ask), 2) becoming Ladybug (she couldn't even ask), and 3)
"Well hey there! Nice of you to drop in."
That guy.
"I bet you're the partner my kwami told me about."
Some partner she was. She'd just gotten over the longer, red-striped ponytail and sparkly unwelcome of a skin-tight bodysuit that had replaced her 'first-day-of-school fit' Not to mention, she was surely just in her balcony no more than twenty seconds ago—and her and her clueless ass had gone ahead and barrelled into this grinning angel.
