AN: Loosely inspired by Mako's Smoke filled room (I like the acoustic session version!)

Marinette layered on the deep red lipstick, meticulously filling in the outline of her lip liner and then blotting and repeating the process. Concentrating on the process of her makeup, she felt her heart start to beat more rhythmically. It was therapeutic, at the same time methodical and artful. She leaned back, surveying the result. She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a full-face of makeup, something the magazines had been keen to praise and scorn her for-depending on the week. She'd always been captivated by the skill that went into a perfect contour and immaculate brow, she just hadn't the patience recently to create it for herself. Since her design career took off, she'd become used to dictating how others should look instead of worrying about her own appearance. Even with all the public events she'd had to do in the last year, she was usually too busy to go full-glam and would maybe dash on some eyeliner for the sake of appearances, but that was it. As much as she had enjoyed a bold lip in university, she hadn't done it much lately. Part of her wondered if it was an attempt to attract less attention to herself or if it was a small act of rebellion to not give people what they expected of a person in her position. Whichever reason, as a result of her minimalistic makeup, she'd been criticized for looking like a little girl playing dress-up at more than one charity function. She knew she had a young-looking face even at 26, so she didn't really pay it much mind and Ethan never seemed to be bothered by it...

She closed her eyes, a feeling welling up inside of her just thinking his name. She couldn't tell what it was anymore. What it definitely wasn't, was sadness. Their relationship had been strained even before the scandal, and honestly, she wasn't even that angry that he'd decided to have an affair. He'd been fun and interesting at first, drawing her in with his charisma, but then she found herself kind of stuck as his side piece, done with his immaturity but reluctant to break it off because of the spotlight it would put on her. Luckily, she finally got the push she needed to dump him. Because not only had he cheated, but he got caught. Not by her, but by the paparazzi. That was what really pissed her off. Now, because he couldn't keep it in his pants, not only his face was plastered across every newspapers, but so was Marinette's.

After a year together, he knew full-well how much she hated being in the public eye. He was a movie-star/philanthropist-a title he'd pompously given himself-and craved the attention just as much as she hated it. He'd claimed that was something he loved about her, that he knew they were together for the right reasons and not because she was grasping her fifteen minutes of fame. Yet, despite all his declarations of love and loyalty and his promises to keep her out of the spotlight as much as possible, they'd somehow landed here, with Ethan jetting off to god-knows where and leaving Marinette trying to dodge paparazzi following her for her 'exclusive comment' about the very public discovery of his infidelity. He'd claimed his escape from the city was for her benefit, that it would draw some of the attention away from her. She'd yet to see the success of this maneuver, and if he had something else planned, she didn't care. She'd stopped returning his calls to find out. Persistent as he may be in apologizing for his transgressions-almost undoubtedly for the sake of his deteriorating public image-Marinette was done and wanted nothing more than to forget about him and get past the heavily photographed nightmare that he'd plunged her into. She'd practically been in hiding for the last month, moving all her things out of her apartment and into Alya's flat in a much quieter neighborhood.

No, she didn't care that he'd cheated. It proved he was an asshole, but he didn't break her heart. That development more than anything convinced her that as much as she might have tried, her heart had just refused to love him. She wasn't heartbroken, but she did want to be left alone. But she realized that her attempts to just live her life in peace were being interpreted by the media as devastation caused by Ethan's wandering eyes...and other body parts. By making herself scarce, she'd made any photo or comment from her three times more valuable. She was being followed every time she left the apartment and she was done. So, she decided to make a very public appearance. As much as she hated attention, one night of it wouldn't kill her if it meant putting this whole business to bed.

She stepped back from the mirror and regarded her reflection. Her face just slightly dewy, accented by a strategically placed sparkle of highlighter across her high cheekbones and a sweep of chocolate brown eyeshadow that made her blue eyes appear even more vibrant. The makeup was simple and not too out of the ordinary from what she might do for a night out, but then there were her lips. Far bolder than she had worn in a while, they were stained a deep burgundy and lined to perfection. She smiled. Makeup may not be strictly necessary or something she did everyday, but Marinette couldn't deny the impact of a bold lip color on her entire persona. She was strong, confident and beautiful, and it felt like the lipstick just made the world see that more clearly. She felt ready for battle.

She walked out of the bathroom, grabbing her clutch and rolling her eyes as Alya stood up and started to applaud her. Her friend knew that the high end club was the last place she wanted to be tonight and would almost certainly be swarming with paparazzi, but that was exactly what Marinette needed. She needed them to see her. See that there was no story, that she wasn't some simpering girl heartbroken by some jerk that was honestly worth less than the price of admission to his movies. She needed them to recognize that and then she need them leave her the hell alone.

Kissing Alya on the cheek, she told her again that she'd be fine and to enjoy her date with Nino. Marinette locked the door behind her and strode over to the elevator, her heeled boots clicking determinedly with every step. The reflective doors closed behind her and she caught a full-length glimpse of herself in the mirror. Just because she didn't play their game often, didn't mean she couldn't. The elevator dinged open, and she straightened her posture as she walked out the doors, daring anyone to call her a little heartbroken girl tonight.

Adrien swirled his glass of whiskey, trying to find patterns in the amber liquid and distract himself. He'd never loved the club scene, but was entertaining a visiting designer for his father. The young Italian 'Call me Vinny' had quickly eschewed Adrien's company for that of the first woman he'd met. Despite his preoccupation, Adrien knew shouldn't leave until he could officially close the tab. As he watched Vinny dance near the stage, he sighed realizing what a long night he was in for.

Raising two fingers, he signaled to the bartender for another. The woman smirked at him, astutely picking up on his situation in the magical way bartenders seemed to always be able to, and refilled Adrien's glass.

He was sipping it pensively, weighing the pros and cons of just leaving the company credit card for the tab and hoping for the best, when a flash of blinking lights and shouts from the door caught his attention. He cringed automatically, recognizing the sound and sights of paparazzi before his brain even consciously named it. Then he saw the source of the commotion and he felt his heart flip painfully in his chest as he sat up in his seat. She walked through the smoke-filled room, her face shining ethereally like the actual moon through the haze of the club. No one spoke to her, but all eyes were watching Marinette as she walked in. To anyone else, it might look like she didn't notice, but Adrien could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the deliberate steps of her gait, the determined flare in her eyes... She held her head high in confidence, but Adrien could just barely see the uncomfortable set of her mouth and was struck by how she simultaneously looked like a completely different person and exactly the same as the girl he knew in lycee.

He was surprised to see her here. From what he remembered, it wasn't exactly her scene, but then, neither was it his. More so, he was surprised because he'd of course heard about what happened between her and the movie star. He shuddered with anger remembering what he'd read in the magazine Nino had shown him, but then he looked back at Marinette and knew no one could keep her down for long.

He and Marinette hadn't spoken much since they both left for university, but not keeping in touch with her had always been one of his biggest regrets. Honestly, he only still talked to Nino, but his DJ friend often got news of Marinette through Alya. Over the years, Adrien loved getting bits and pieces of her life,feeling especially proud every time her design career reached a new level, but when he'd heard who she started dating he'd been shocked. They seemed like an odd pair, but more than that, he knew how uncomfortable Marinette was as the center of attention and couldn't imagine her enjoying all the publicity that came with dating a famous person. Still, he devoured every picture of her the paparazzi posted, happier more than he had right to be every time she flaunted all expectations of who they thought she should be and instead was just herself.

Watching her as she made her way towards the bar he realized that she hadn't changed. Her dress hugged her figure and her dark lips stood out boldly against her pale face, but she was still absolutely the same woman as she'd been in all of those photos. He knew immediately that this was Marinette's way of telling the world that she was confident in who she was, whether that was in jeans and a ponytail or in an evening gown with a full face of makeup. She knew who she was, and was not to be made or broken by the action of a man. He smiled at the thought. She'd always been confident, but in lycee it'd been hidden behind her naturally clumsiness and stuttering. For all he knew, she was as clumsy as ever, but he found himself wanting to know for sure. He needed to know this woman he'd known as a girl.

Then she saw him. Her shoulders lost a bit of tension and her intense gaze softened in recognition as she smiled back at him and turned slightly in his direction. He immediately got up and pulled the seat out next to him, but she was intercepted halfway to him. Her face hardened immediately seeing the woman and Adrien saw her eyes flash in anger. He took a step towards her but stopped when he clearly heard Marinette voice respond to whatever the short blonde had said.

"Well, Melanie, I can't say I agree. My relationship definitely had its pitfalls, and while perhaps my lack of support in his public life was one of them, I would say the chief downfall was my ex-boyfriend's wandering dick. But I've moved on with my life, and I suggest the rest of you," she made eye contact with the small posse of people who had gathered to overhear the conversation. "Do the same. Excuse me."

Adrien stood with his mouth agape, in awe of the woman in front of him. Not a single hesitation or stutter. She lightly pushed Melanie aside and finished walking over, surprising him by throwing her arms around him.

"Adrien," she breathed and he instinctively held her too, delighting more than words could describe to hear his name on her lips.

"Marinette," he whispered in response holder her a bit tighter before she pulled back, looking a bit shocked by her own behavior, but she didn't apologize. She smiled a bit sheepishly up at him as he led her over to the seat he offered. '

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

He smiled, pleased beyond reason at her words as he called to bartender to get her a drink.

"Believe it or not, I was just thinking the same thing."