Chapter Text
Adrien
As I walk into the cafeteria for dinner, I spot Nino sitting at one of the long tables with a girl I haven’t met before. She has dark hair tied back in a ponytail, glasses perched on her nose, and a confident smile. They’re laughing over something on their trays, clearly comfortable with each other.
"Hey Nino, mind if I sit with you guys?" Nino looks up, surprised to see me.
"Duh dude! You know Alya, right?" I shake my head and sit down in the empty chair next to him. "This is my girlfriend, I mostly use her for homework help though." Alya chuckles and nudges Nino playfully.
"Nice to meet you," she says with a grin. "And I'm way more than just a homework helper, by the way."
"So Adrien… How did your chat with Marinette go today? It kinda looked heated." Nino started, completely disregarding what Alya had said before.
"Heated doesn't even cover it. She's frustrating." I utter while brushing a hand through my hair.
"I used to be really close with her.. We both were." Alya said while picking at her salad. "I mean, we still talk occasionally. It's just not the same."
I nod, taking in her words. “Got it. Sounds… complicated.”
Alya shrugs, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, but enough about drama, how’s life outside all this?”
I blink, caught off guard. “Uh… pretty normal, I guess. Work, classes, trying not to get yelled at by teachers.”
Nino snorts. “Yeah, right. Normal for you means people staring at you everywhere you go.”
Alya laughs softly. “What do you like to do when you’re not here?”
I think for a moment, realizing I rarely talk about myself outside of school. “I like playing piano, and… modeling, I guess. It’s kind of my quiet thing.”
“Piano?” Alya’s eyes light up. “That’s cool!" I shrug, a little embarrassed. Luckily, we get carried away in random conversation while eating. The bell rings after some time and I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder, starting the long walk to the library.
I leave the cafeteria, my tray abandoned at the edge of the table, and make my way toward the library. The corridors are quieter now, the clatter of students’ conversations fading behind me. I follow the signs along the polished marble floors, the soft hum of overhead lamps guiding the way.
The library doors come into view at the end of a tall hallway. They’re carved from dark wood with brass handles shaped like open books. I push them open, and the scent of old paper and polished oak washes over me. Sunlight filters through massive arched windows, highlighting the rows of bookshelves that climb two stories high. Ladders slide along the shelves for those daring enough to reach the highest tomes. Plush chairs and sturdy wooden tables fill the center of the room, some occupied by students hunched over notebooks, others quietly flipping through thick textbooks. It feels like a sanctuary, a place where chaos slows to a manageable hum.
I spot Marinette almost immediately. She’s sitting at one of the long tables, her notebook open, pens scattered around like soldiers in formation. She looks up as I approach, her eyes narrowing the instant she notices the time.
“Finally,” she says, her tone sharp enough to make me flinch. “You’re late.”
I pull my phone out to check the time. "Dinner got out seven minutes ago. I'm really not that late."
Marinette snorts, more exasperated than amused. “That’s seven minutes I could’ve spent actually starting this project instead of watching the clock tick.”
I slide my chair closer to the table, keeping my expression neutral. “Did you expect me to run here?”
"Clearly I can't expect much from you." She mutters.
I glance at the neatly laid out materials, at the careful diagrams and color coded notes spread across the table. “Looks like you’ve already got everything under control,” I comment.
Marinette lets out a sharp sigh, tapping her pen against her notebook. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll just do the whole project myself. Honestly, it’ll be faster that way.”
I blink at her, caught off guard. “Uh… it’s a group project. We’re supposed to—”
“Group project, solo project, same difference,” she interrupts, her eyes narrowing. “You’ll just slow me down. Let me handle it, you can watch if you want.”
I lean back, a little amused despite myself. “Sounds good, try hard." I say, adding that last part just to piss her off.
She shoots me a glare and opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, I abruptly stand up and walk toward the exit with my bag. As I walk back to my room, the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the library walls, I can still hear the faint scratch of Marinette’s pen behind me. She’s probably muttering to herself, calculating angles or jotting down more notes, completely absorbed in her own world. Honestly, it’s almost impressive, if it weren’t for the fact that I’m supposed to be helping.
The hallways feel quieter now, the afternoon light slanting through the tall windows, casting long shadows on the floor. It’s honestly quite peaceful, the kind of quiet that settles in after you’ve had enough of people for one day. My jaw’s still tight, irritation simmering beneath the surface. Every step I take just replays the last ten minutes in my head. Her tone, her glare, and the way she acted like I was some kind of inconvenience instead of her partner for the project.
I shove my hands in my pockets, trying to shake it off, but it sticks. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has this way of getting under my skin. Like she’s trying to push every possible button. I don’t know if she hates me, or if she’s just naturally impossible to deal with. Either way, I’m not wasting another night arguing over who’s “doing it wrong.”
I turn a corner near the stairwell, and suddenly, a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.
“Adrien! Dude, there you are!”
I look up to see Nino jogging toward me, his hoodie half zipped, earbuds dangling around his neck. He looks way too excited for this late in the evening.
“Hey,” I say, stopping as he catches up. “What’s up?”
He grins, slightly out of breath. “Okay, so, you didn’t hear this from me… but there’s a party tonight.”
I raise a brow. “A party? Here?”
“Yeah, bro! It’s kind of a ‘Welcome to Françoise Dupont’ thing for you,” he says, bumping my shoulder. “Apparently everyone’s going. It’s at the old art building—you know, the one behind the gym that looks haunted? Yeah, that’s the one.”
I blink, trying to picture it. “The old art building? Isn’t that place, like, abandoned?”
“Exactly.” Nino’s grin widens. “That’s what makes it fun. Someone found the key, someone brought speakers, and boom, instant underground party.”
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “You guys really don’t waste time, huh?”
“Never.” He leans in conspiratorially. “It starts around eleven. You better show up, people are actually excited to meet you. And by ‘people,’ I mean everyone.”
“Yeah,” I say finally, smirking a little. “Alright. I’ll be there.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Oh by the way, a strict no phone policy.” Nino grins and starts heading back the way he came. “Bring your energy, man. Tonight’s gonna be good.”
As he disappears down the hall, I’m left standing there, the quiet creeping back in. A party at the old art building. Midnight lights, loud music, people I barely know. It’s not exactly my scene, but I could use a distraction right about now.
I adjust my bag on my shoulder and start walking again, the irritation in my chest fading into something else. Curiosity. Maybe tonight will be different. Maybe it’ll actually be fun.
I finish the walk to my room, shoving my hand in my pocket to find my room key. Finally, I unlock the door and walk in, closing it behind me.
My dorm room is still and quiet like it was when I left. The hum of the fluorescent light fills the space as I toss my bag on the chair and sit down on the edge of the bed. My phone buzzes once, but it’s just a school notification. I ignore it and pull out my literature book from my backpack.
I crack it open and start skimming through the highlighted sections, trying to focus. For a while, I manage to, flipping through pages, jotting notes in the margins, and underlining quotes that might actually matter for tomorrow’s test. It’s boring, but it’s something to do.
An hour passes before I glance at the clock again. 10:27.
I lean back in my chair and rub the back of my neck. The dorm hall has started to come alive, I hear the sound of laughter down the hall and music thudding faintly through the walls. The party’s supposed to start around eleven, and judging by how loud it’s getting, people are already heading there.
I stare at my notes a second longer before closing the book, I’ve done enough for one night.
I open my closet and grab a black button t-shirt and jeans. Simple. Not trying too hard. I change quickly, run a hand through my hair, and check the mirror once. Passable.
I slip on my sneakers and head out. The hallway’s crowded now. Doors open, people laughing, someone spraying cologne strong enough to choke a horse.
Outside, the night air is cool and sharp. The path to the old art building winds past the gym, and faint bass echoes from somewhere ahead. A few groups of students are already walking that way, their voices carrying across the courtyard. I fall in step behind them, letting the noise guide me.
It’s late, I’ve got a test tomorrow, and this is probably a stupid idea.
The old art building looms ahead, it has cracked stone walls, ivy crawling up the sides, and boarded-up windows that barely hide the pulsing light spilling through the cracks. The bass from the music vibrates in the ground beneath my feet, thumping like a heartbeat. Someone’s strung fairy lights along the front steps, flickering weakly against the dark.
I push the door open and step inside.
The air is thick with music and the faint smell of alcohol. It’s crowded with people pressed shoulder to shoulder, red solo cups in hand, laughter and shouting overlapping like white noise. Paintings still hang crooked on the peeling walls, and half-finished sculptures line the corners like forgotten ghosts of classes past.
“Yo! Adrien!”
I spot Nino waving me over from across the room, Alya standing beside him, grinning wide with a cup in her hand. I weave through the crowd until I reach them.
“Glad you made it!” Nino shouts over the music, dapping me up quickly and then handing me a cup. “They’ve got shots by the old supply counter. Don’t ask what’s in them.. just go for it.”
Alya smirks. “It’s probably awful, but it does the job.”
I laugh, shrugging. “My dad's gonna kill me.”
“Your dad aint here, boy. Relax.” Nino exclaims as we make our way toward the counter together, dodging dancing students and someone trying to juggle glow sticks. The “bar” is really just an old wooden table covered in mismatched bottles, sticky from spilled liquor. Nino pours a shot of something brown into my cup.
“To the new guy,” Alya says, raising hers.
I clink mine against theirs.
The liquid burns going down, but not enough to make me cough. Nino winces like it’s gasoline. Alya laughs and pours another round, but I wave her off, still recovering from the first.
We move back toward the center of the room, where the lights flash dim blue and gold. People are shouting, laughing, and dancing. The atmosphere is loud and chaotic but weirdly freeing.
Then I see her.
Marinette.
She’s across the room, near one of the old studio easels, wearing a revealing red crop top and baggy jeans, her hair down and straight for once. She’s standing close to a guy with dark blue hair and a lazy grin. I think his name is Luka. He’s got a half empty bottle of liquor dangling from his fingers, the label peeling under his grip. He tips it toward her with an easy smirk before taking another swig.
My first thought is disbelief. Of all people, she’s here? The same girl who acted like spending a few minutes waiting on me was a crime?
She turns her head, scanning the room, and her gaze lands on me. For half a second, everything goes still. Just her eyes, locking on mine.
And then she moves.
Marinette grabs Luka by the collar and pulls him in, kissing him deep and deliberate, like she wants me to see it. The bottle slips slightly in his hand, the liquid sloshing as he leans into her, smiling against her lips. The crowd around them barely notices, too caught up in their own chaos.
My jaw tightens.
Nino says something beside me, but I don’t hear it. I just keep watching, a mix of irritation and something I can’t quite name twisting in my chest. I laugh under my breath, sharp and humorless, and look away.
Of course she’s here. Of course she’d do something like that.
I hand my cup back to Nino. “I need some air.”
And before he can answer, I push through the crowd and step out into the cold night.
The sudden silence was a shock compared to the pulsing music inside. The cool air hits my face, a welcome relief from the heat and chaos of the old art building. I take a deep breath, letting the faint scent of ivy and damp stone fill my lungs, and lean against the cracked railing on the side steps.
A shadow shifts nearby, and I notice someone sitting alone on the top step. A girl with short dark hair, eyes fixed on the courtyard below. She wears a crisp, black jacket over a simple dress, posture perfect despite the chaos behind her. Something about her looks… deliberate.
“Hey,” I say, stepping closer. “Is this your preferred spot over all that madness inside?”
She glances up, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Always,” she says, her accent light and precise. “My roommates drag me to these things every time. I come for two minutes, realize it’s unbearable, and escape out here. The chaos is… exhausting.”
I nod, understanding that sentiment more than I’d like to admit. “I’m Adrien.”
“Kagami,” she replies, offering a small bow of her head. “From Japan. Though, I spend most of my life managing… less interesting things.”
“Managing?” I ask.
“Family business,” she says simply. “Nothing glamorous, though I suppose that makes this party a bit of an adventure.” Her eyes flick toward the building, where bass thumps through the walls. “And yet, here I sit, avoiding all of it.”
I chuckle softly. “I get it. I just needed a break too. Way too crowded in there.”
And then, out of nowhere, a kid appears beside me, almost jumping in front of me to get my attention. “Hey! You! Yeah, you. Come play beer pong with us!”
I step back, startled. “Uh… ”
“Come on, man. Doesn’t have to be serious,” he says, grinning. “I’m Kim. You’re Adrien, right? Heard you’re kind of the new kid everyone’s talking about.”
I hesitate, glancing back toward Kagami, who watches the exchange with a faint, amused raise of her eyebrow. “Alright,” I say finally.
Kim claps me on the shoulder, overly enthusiastic, and starts pulling me toward a makeshift table set up under the flickering string lights. “That’s the spirit! You’ll love this.”
As I follow him, the music inside echoes faintly outside, mixing with the night air. Somehow, I get the feeling this party might end up being more chaotic than I expected.
Kim guides me to the makeshift table, two solo cups at either end, red and sweaty from condensation. A few other students cheer from the sidelines, egging us on. The night air is crisp, and the faint hum of the party inside drifts out through the broken windows.
“Alright, first round!” Kim announces, picking up a ping pong ball. “You’re going down, new guy!”
I grin, shrugging. “We’ll see about that.”
Kim bounces the ball, flinging it toward my cup. He misses, and laughter erupts around us. I pick up my first shot. A small, amber colored mix that smells stronger than it should.
I bring it to my lips, and the taste hits like fire. My throat burns. My eyes water slightly, but I force myself to swallow smoothly, masking any reaction. I don’t want to embarrass myself.
The crowd whistles. “Not bad!” someone calls.
Kim smirks, tossing his ball again. This time it sinks into one of my cups. I pick up the next shot, and the same ritual follows: lift, sip, burn, swallow, neutral expression. I refuse to let the taste, the heat, or the alcohol show.
By the third round, some of the onlookers are starting to whisper among themselves. I can feel their eyes sizing me up, and it fuels me more than it intimidates me. I line up my shot, bounce the ball once, and it lands perfectly in one of Kim’s cups. The cheers grow louder, and I raise my hands in a subtle acknowledgment, careful not to look smug.
Kim grabs his next ball and smirks. “Okay, okay… not bad at all..”
The game continues, each round more intense than the last. Each shot I take, the burning and bitter taste slowly goes away. Kim laughs at my focus, clapping as he tosses another ball, and I catch it in my cup again.
Somehow, amidst the cheers, the laughter, and the occasional curse, I feel a thrill. Not just from the alcohol but from holding my own in a chaotic crowd, proving I can navigate a scene that’s entirely foreign to me.
Finally, Kim leans back, shaking his head. “Okay, dude, you’re… actually insane.”
He laughs, tossing his ball, missing spectacularly. I take my final shot, a slight burn crawling up my throat, and swallow without a twitch. A collective “ooh” rises around the table.
Kim freezes mid laugh as his last ball clinks harmlessly against the edge of my cup and bounces off. The crowd erupts in cheers, clapping and hooting for me.
Kim throws his hands up in mock surrender. “No way… okay, okay, you win!”
Kagami, still sitting a few steps away, gives a small smile. “Well, that’s… impressive,” she says, her voice carrying that quiet, sharp edge that somehow feels like praise.
The crowd around the table starts chanting my name again, the energy infectious. People slap me on the back, throw their arms around me, and one kid even lifts me in a half hug before letting me go.
Kim laughs, shaking his head, a little out of breath and defeated. “Alright, you’ve officially destroyed me. Seriously, new guy… respect.”
I nod, giving him a friendly grin. “That was fun.”
The music from inside pulses faintly against the courtyard walls, but out here, under the flickering string lights, I can breathe. The cold night air mixes with the buzz from the shots, a heady combination of adrenaline and thrill.
Somehow, I feel… capable. Not just in the game, but in this chaotic, loud world that I rarely step into. And for a moment, as everyone cheers my name, I forget about the crowded art building, the loud music, and even the test waiting for me tomorrow.