Chapter 12: Andante (Part 3 of 4)

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French glossary:

"Les Deux Sots" = The Two Fools/Idiots

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(Mood Music:  Life with Masks - Mystic Messenger OST)

After Chat dropped off the suitcase in his room at the bakery, Adrien embarked on his next mission: Going to the bank and withdrawing enough money to purchase everything else on his list, which included a new SIM card for Chloe's old (and extremely bedazzled) phone, and a laptop for school.

He made his way to the bank, wearing the hood up on his zip-up hoodie, and pulling it down over his eyes whenever he saw any suspicious looking men in suits.

At the bank, Adrien filled out all the necessary forms, grateful that he'd taken the time to memorize his savings account number years back, when they'd first opened it.

However, today he encountered a different problem.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Agreste," the bank teller said. "Like I said, I'm afraid that all your assets and accounts have been frozen. You can only withdraw money if your father accompanies you, or if he unlocks them himself."

Adrien sighed dejectedly. "Isn't there anything you can do?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not, sir," she replied. "You would have to speak to your father to have him undo the restrictions. We can't do anything until then... or until you turn eighteen years old. At that time, you can regain access without needing his permission, since you would officially be an adult."

Adrien pursed his lips into a thin line. His birthday was still a month away. 

All his savings, all the hard-earned money from his modeling work... Gabriel was keeping it all hostage, hoping Adrien would come crawling back to him, like some pitiful prodigal son.

Well, two could play that game. He filled out all the necessary paperwork to reclaim what was his, so everything would be all set up when his birthday came around. He also made sure that Gabriel would be permanently locked out of his accounts at that time.

He thanked the teller and left the bank, feeling morose and surly. He couldn't even afford to get his used phone working, and was therefore cut off from all communication; save for whatever computers were available at an internet cafe or library. What else could he do?

Maybe Nathalie could help him figure out if there was anything else he could do legally. If he could even get ahold of her. He'd been worried about her while he was recovering at the Dupain-Chengs'; now was his chance to try to contact her.

Adrien walked to the nearest library and convinced the starstruck librarian to let him use their telephone.

The phone rang... and rang... and rang...

So he tried again. And again. And again.

But the same monotone voice repeated the same discouraging phrase:

"The number you have dialed has been disconnected."

The boy frowned. Was Nathalie alright? He'd left her all alone with his father. He wouldn't do anything to her, would he?

Mind whirling and chest tight, he sped to the computers to create a new email account (not risking logging into his usual one), and sent her a simple, nondescript message:

"u ok?"

He couldn't help but remain glued to the computer, clicking and clicking to refresh the page, hoping for something, anything in response. He drummed his fingers on the desk. Crossed his legs. Uncrossed them. Crossed them again. Fiddled with his shoelaces. Opened a new browser tab to distract himself by reading the news, only to switch back every 30 seconds. Minutes ticked by. But still, nothing.

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