Spark | A Chat Noir Love Story

Chapter | 8 | "At the touch of Love, everyone becomes a Poet"

    My head was spinning. There was the faintest reminiscent of champagne on my tongue. My vision was clear and yet blurry at the same time. Music played faintly in the background of my attention. On the stage before me, a woman was sitting beside a piano, singing a song in a thick french accent. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had paired this song to one I used to listen to when I was just une petite fille; a small girl.

    "La Vie en Rose," The small voice whispered into my mind. The room was covered in a dim pink glow. I tried to remember how I had stumbled into this building.

    "Mademoiselle?" A voice said, this one coming from somewhere to my right. I looked up sharply, trying to match the voice with the face. I stared up at a waiter, someone who seemed to be as tired as I felt.

    "Oui?" I questioned, my voice heavy with tiredness. The waiter glanced at my small empty glass before smiling gently. He picked up the glass and held it to his side as he spoke.

    "Qu'est-ce que voudrais téléphone un taxi?" I chuckled, sitting up in my chair. The dimness of the room hid the many faces of the others in the room. We were all seated in what reminded me of the old 1940's and 1960's movies, or the Titanic with a stage and a resigned location where guests could come and sit in large, comfortable chairs and listen to someone sing upon a stage.

    "Non, merci." I answered, getting to my feet. I briefly brushed the crumbs of a late dinner off my dress and grabbed my purse. I ducked down, careful to avoid the spotlight as I followed the waiter up the small staircase and up onto the heightened floor. I made for the door, slipping in between the small gathered crowds. As I passed the glowing sign behind the bar, I remembered the events that had led me to stumble upon this building.

    I had been at a brief, stiff, le boum pour le réveillon du jour de l'an, or what we used to call in New York: a New Year's Eve Party. Chloé had invited everyone from our classe Anglais; our English and Literature class. It had been a rather forced party to say the least; Marinette had made sure to capture the attention of the entire class.

    Hoping to make an entrance, she had showed up a short ten minutes after the party started. Just as she intended, the whole class momentarily paused in order to welcome her. It also didn't help that Chloe had specially had her butler announce each guest's arrival on a microphone.

    With her name being called out to the entire gathering as she cascaded down the steps, Marinette easily captured the attention of everyone in the room, and the worst part about it was that she had planned for it the whole time. Dressed in a handcrafted dress designed to impress, she practically floated over to where Adrien and I were talking.

    She easily swayed him away from me, and managed to gather the entire class in her story about her tardiness. Tales of the "Miraculous" Ladybug saving the day filled the dimly lit room, and I felt myself grow more and more irritated and hurt.

    With a small glance at the clock, and an absence of every ally I had in the class, I had figured it was due time I headed home anyway. Without further ado, I excused myself, and shot Chloe a text thanking her and telling her I was leaving once I had safely slipped out of the door.

   As I walked down the street, shivering in the cold frosty air, the chatter of couples snuggling close to each other for warmth filled the silence. I made my way to my apartment, but was distracted by a faint tune I once favored when I was just a small girl.

    Edith Piafs 'L'hymne de l'amour' was being sung by a powerful, strong voice somewhere in the distance. Beyond tired and curious, I followed the sweet-sounding music far astray from my path and found myself standing before a building out of time, a building especially out of place in this new technological world.