The phone was ringing during rush hour.

"Marinette!" Nino called loudly from the register. "Can you grab that?"

"Sure thing," she dodged her coworker as he grabbed a newly filled to-go cup. The customer smiled as they grabbed the cup with a "thank you" before leaving the line.

"Busy Beans Cafe, how may I assist you?" Marinette asked the phone.

A smooth male voice came from the other end.

"Hey, this is Slice Guy's Pizzeria? You know, that place three blocks down the street?"

Marinette opened and closed her mouth. She answered, "Yeah, I know the place…"

"Great! Do you think we can make a trade? We need five different drinks, but since it's getting close to lunchtime, my coworkers thought it'd be a good idea to trade. We'll give you… actually, how many people are working right now?"

Marinette blinked, not sure how to answer this stream of information. "Uhh, there's four people working right now?"

"Okay… Hey, Alix? How much food for four people?" Marinette could hear a muffled answer from the other line. "Alright, how does a large pepperoni with an order garlic knots sound?" The voice sounded excited.

"Uhh, no pepperoni. Nino hates it. Make it sausage?"

"Sounds good!"

"What drinks do you want?" Marinette asked, grabbing a pen and paper.

"Okay, Ivan wants a…"

By the time Marinette finished making all the drinks for the Slice Guy's workers, rush hour had slowed, and Nino was about to go on his lunch break.

"Nino, hold up. Lunch is on me today. I'll be back in ten minutes with lunch, okay?"

Nino narrowed his eyes for a minute before nodding and turning back to the customers, the typical soft smile he used for customers coming back.

Marinette took off her apron and grabbed her coat, heading out into the chilly air. The gray clouds covered the sun, something she really wished would come out right about now. The northern wind, forced down the narrow Parisian streets, nipped through her long coat. Cars zipped by quickly, blowing the smell of gasoline her way. A person bumped her shoulder, tipping her towards the street. She quickly righted herself, correcting the drinks before they crashed into the passing car.

She continued on her path, heading toward the intersection where the Slice Guy employee said they would meet.

Her coat caught in the wind, flowing behind her in a way she knew would have Alya screaming "aesthetic!" Her pigtails were tied in their typical red ties, and her black top was tucked into skinny jeans.

Marinette rounded a corner, and saw the intersection up ahead. A wave of fear overcame her. What if this was a joke? Or worse, what if this was a ploy to kidnap someone? She hadn't told anyone where she was going. It's not like the guy had told her to come alone, but she didn't feel comfortable meeting someone she didn't know, even if food was promised. Her hand drifted to her pocket, where pepper spray was hidden. She grasped it firmly, before breathing out heavily and heading forward. Marinette reached the intersection, and glanced around for someone wearing a Slice Guy's logo. Someone bumped her from behind again, then someone hit her shoulder. Marinette attempted to regain her footing before she lost control and fell straight towards the busy traffic.

Someone grabbed her coat from behind and lurched her backwards. She collapsed into someone's arms, and straightened the coffee before it spilled.

Marinette tilted her head back, looking up to see sparkling green eyes and golden hair. The man helped her stand up, before glancing at her hands. She wondered if he was going to rob her, when he grinned.

They sky lit up with sunlight.

"Are you from Busy Beans?" the man asked. She nodded her head, feeling a sense of peace overwhelm her.

"S-Slice Guy's?" she managed, still shaken from her near-death experience. Her mind was still flashing with the image of her own head under a tire. The beauty of this man, however, seemed to be distracting her just fine.

"Yep! I'm Adrien."

"M-Marinette. I… I have your coffees."

"And I have your lunch. Here you go!" he said cheerily, handing the plastic bag over to Marinette, who clumsily traded the coffees with him. She blinked up at him as he looked at her, his beautiful smile never fading.

"This is gonna help us a lot, Marinette. Thanks a bunch. We should do this again sometime, yeah?"

Marinette forced herself to answer through her bliss. "Y-yeah! We s-should this do again! I mean, do this again. Do this again, for sure." She returned his smile, and he chuckled a deep laugh that made her heart skip a beat.

"Sounds like a plan, Marinette. See you soon." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked down the street. The sunlight seemed to follow his figure, up until he turned a corner and disappeared from view.

Marinette realized she was standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk and hurried back to Busy Beans Coffee Shop.

"Alya, you don't understand, he was a literal angel! He had this golden halo of hair, perfectly styled, and his eyes were like a flawless meadow! And his skin looked softer than mine! How is that possible? I do everything I can for my skin, and he comes waltzing into my life like he owned a remedy for freckles!" Marinette paced around her apartment, tossing her hands into the air as Alya spun in a chair, giggling at her roomate.

"Was he tall, at least?"

"Yes, oh god yes! His legs went on forever and were muscular, but not in a gross way, like a 'take me now' kind of way! And even his outfit, completely went with his appearance, even if it was super simple! Black skinny jeans, a red tee-shirt dusted in flour, black apron that totally highlighted his waist, the shirt seemed to broaden his shoulders, even his belt matched his shoes-"

"Oh, he's a keeper." Alya exclaimed, sliding her chair back to her desk and opening her laptop.

Marinette turned to her friend, and frowned. She tilted her head suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna find this boy you speak so highly of. He better be as cute as you say, or I'll be mucho disappointo."

"It's easy to tell you didn't take Spanish." Marinette commented as she twisted her pencil through her fingers. She slid a sketchbook across her bed, and started to draw.

"It's Espanol, Marinette. Don't you know?"

"It's only Español if you say it right, Alya." Marinette made a downward stroke with her wrist, before correcting it. That wasn't right at all.

"Same difference. Oh. My. God! DJ Bubbler's new album is out!" Alya shrieked. Marinette rolled her eyes fondly and said, "Play it!"

"Can I borrow five bucks?"

"Sure, pay me back by… Saturday?"

"Will do." Alya's fingers flew across the keyboard. Music wafted out of her computer speakers, and Marinette couldn't help but nod along. Alya had become obsessed with the so-called "DJ Bubbler", a new Parisian musician who had quickly earn a large fanbase from Youtube. He then started publishing his songs, and Paris had been in love ever since.

Especially Alya, who was determined to learn his identity. The only thing known about him was that he was a guy in his twenties who had a strong passion for music. Alya was hooked instantly.

"He could be our age, Mari!" she had protested to Marinette, who thought going on a "Bubbler Hunt" would be a waste of time.

"Alya, if he's going by a fake name, he doesn't want to be found."

"Or maybe he only wants someone who truly loves his music to know who he is!" Alya argued.

Alya hummed as she surfed the web, fingers dancing around the touchpad. Marinette drew a curve, and added a circle. Then another curve, no, that's not right, another curve, and a circle. She darkened a small spot, then repeated it across the other side. She leaned back, inspected her creation, and went back to sketching.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," Alya said after a few minutes of silence. Marinette glanced up quickly. "You didn't."

"I didn't what?" Marinette asked, not looking up again. The picture was starting to look real. Nathaniel would be proud of her work.

"You. Did. Not."

"Alya, what did I not do?" Marinette sighed, placing down her pencil and marching over to her roomate. She leaned over Alya's shoulder, and froze.

ADRIEN AGRESTE RETIRING FROM MODELING

"I've started doing what I love"

IS HE BEING HONEST OR LYING TO PROTECT HIS FANS?

That was the headline of the Parisian Publisher, bolded over a smiling picture of Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste, ex-supermodel.

"This isn't him, is it?" Alya's voice shook slightly. Marinette didn't speak, just dropped her sketchbook on top of the keyboard.

Adrien's face, forever frozen in graphite, smiled up at the roomates as they stared in shock. Alya's head slowly looked up at the picture of Adrien Agreste, then back to the sketch.

Is it just me, Marinette's thoughts spoke up, or does he look much happier in the sketch?

"HOLY SHIT MARINETTE!"

Hi!

Should I continue this or no? It's sorta a bit of a drabble that I thought up at like, 10 at night while trying to fall asleep. I had read a tumblr post about two restaurants making a trade and it sounded like a cool concept, so here this is! Let me know if you want to see more, though. It won't be long, probably only a couple chapters, and I still have to finish "The Final Fight" (I SWEAR I WILL) so this might be a side-WIP that I do when I'm free? I dunno just let me know what you guys want/think.

Review please and tell me your thoughts!

(X-Posted on AO3)

~Ani