In the Home of Chat

Speeches

There was some sort of argument going on in the back of the room, from where Adrien sat beside the dean of students he couldn't see who was having the argument but he could see the crowd of students turning to watch it as it continued on. The dean was shifting beside him, attempting to figure out what was going on in the back of the room without allowing the students to see him just yet. Adrien was interested in what was going on as well, albeit for a different reason.

"I wouldn't be openly telling people what you think Adrien would want! Talk about nastiness leaking into your designs? I bet yours look like you took a dump in a sketchbook." A shrill girls voice echoed through the room as she shouted at whoever she was having the argument with. It came shortly after a collective "oooo" from the back of the room so he could only assume the girl was on the losing side of the fight. A murmur filled the room shortly after the outburst and a few people nearby him began asking others what was going on in the back. He leaned forward, resting his cheek on his fist as he tried to cover up for the fact that he was listening in to their hushed conversations. From what he could gather, one girl who a few noted for being generally soft spoken during their first day had been in the middle of being put down rudely by another when someone stepped in to defend the first and tell the second off. He smiled at the thought. Marinette used to be like that when they were in school together and he was glad to see that even in a place like this someone was willing to stand up for others no matter what.

The first speaker, a dark skinned bald man who wore a large hoop of gold in one ear, stood and moved to the podium before them. The action blocked Adrien's view of what was going on and brought the blonde back to the present. He coughed into his hand and shifted so he was sitting a bit straighter in his chair as he locked his eyes on the back of the man's soft purple shirt. His speech on the importance of looking forward in fashion was speaking and in a voice so monotone that Adrien felt his eye's drooping as he attempted to follow the man's words. The argument that had caught his attention seemed to stop as soon as the man stood, but he wouldn't have minded if it had continued, at least then he would have something for his mind to cling onto that wasn't slowly putting him to sleep.

"...With that said however, I would like to introduce you to someone who has been in this industry practically since the day he was born. This man has overcome a downfall that I would not wish on anyone, and has often helped my own designers with his wonderful intern program. Ladies and Gentlemen, and those who aren't apart of either of those restraining genders, may I introduce, Adrien Agreste of the Agreste Fashion."

Adrien jerked his head upwards at the sound of his name. The man was looking at him with a bright smile and the students were all clapping wildly, some even cheering, as he pushed himself up from his seat and gave them a small wave in return. Praise wasn't something he was used to after all the years he had spent on the other side of the camera, the sounds of the students excitement in seeing him brought with them memories of the past, when no one really saw past his face, past the false persona his father so carefully crafted for him.

"I would like to say good afternoon to each of you." He began as he stepped up to the podium, his fingers wrapped around its wooden edges as he leaned forward to get closer to the small microphone. "As I look over each of your faces today, I think back to my own start. I wasn't always the CEO of my own company you see. It took hard work, a bit of luck, and trust in wonderful creators much like yourselves." He paused to take a breath and scanned over the crowd before him. A few cheerful girls shouted their love for him as he did this, but he had grown used to ignoring such exclamations while he was still a model under his father's thumb. "This industry cannot survive without creativity. I have been lucky enough over the years to see the flow of creativity from designers of all creeds and styles. Any one of you could go on to be the top of our industry in a few short years and I am excited to see that happen." his eyes scanned over the back of the crowd, and stopped short when a flash of blue black hair captured his attention. It was long raven hair that was pulled up in a high ponytail yet still left fringe to fall around the eyes of the woman it belonged to, framing them perfectly as if she were painted by a classical artist with an expert eye for beauty. Marinette was smiling gently as she watched him. The smile made him feel lighter just by seeing it upon her lips. He felt his own lips pull into a small smile as his tongue darted out to run across his bottom lip. "Many of you here may think that you don't truly have what it takes to make it in the industry, you may not feel you are hard enough or cutthroat enough to make it as far as I, and others who have come today to share their wisdom with you, have. What I have to say to that is this: just breathe. Let your imagination carry your hand across the page or your needle through the fabric. This industry doesn't have to be for only those who wish to walk on others. You will find, when you head out to pursue your dreams, that many in the fashion scene are exceptionally willing to open up themselves to you and to teach you what you cannot learn in class. You will make friends and acquaintances who will be behind you along your journey just as you will eventually be behind others as well. Every mentor you can think of was once a student. One day some of you may be in my shoes, standing here as I am and speaking to a class who will be just as excited to hear your wisdom."