Wow, it's really been almost a year, huh? Well, I did warn that there would be large amounts of time between updates for the first six chapters. However, I realize I forgot to explain why.

Basically, I'm allowing myself to post a chapter for every five I write. This will allow for a consistent updating schedule after chapter six is posted. Until then, expect very large gaps. In my defense, I have written close to 50,000 words for this story after I posted chapter one, y'all. With that on top of school, I'm not surprised it took me close to a year.

But I am sorry for how long it's been! I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me and to read and hopefully enjoy this chapter.

Again, major thanks to my friend Erin for editing. She is a lifesaver and I adore her.

Note: Everyone in this story is aged up to around 25 or so.

xXxXxXx

Adrien woke up to the sound of an alarm blaring on his phone. Groaning, he rolled over and tried to grab it from his dresser, almost dropping it on the floor because his mind was barely awake. Through his blurry vision he tried to read the time.

6:30.

What the hell? Why was he getting up so early on a Sunday? There was no reason to -

Oh. Right.

He sighed, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He had a sizing appointment for his father's latest line at 7:15, followed by a meeting he was supposed to attend with his father at noon, and a photoshoot that evening.

A normal day in the Agreste household, unfortunately.

Adrien climbed out of bed, glancing at his notifications as he did so. He sighed, placing his phone back on his dresser. Still nothing regarding whether he'd been cast or not. No emails, no messages. And nothing from Marinette, either.

Maybe he'd been getting his hopes up when he'd decided to audition for the part. Plenty of other talented actors had auditioned, and most of them he was sure had more experience than him. Not to mention that Nathalie, while she meant well, had not necessarily left the best impression on everyone there.

Deciding to push it out of his mind for the time being, Adrien pulled out a shirt and a pair of jeans from his drawer and got dressed. He shoved his phone into his pocket and made his way downstairs, where Nathalie was already waiting for him.

"Your breakfast has been prepared," she said, and he nodded in response.

Adrien sometimes wondered why he still lived in his childhood home instead of finding his own place. It had been several years since he'd graduated, and it wasn't like he couldn't afford to move out - being the face of the Agreste company meant money was something he always had on hand.

Maybe it had something to do with his father. He wasn't sure whether he just didn't want to leave his father alone, or if he felt pressured to stay because his job was completely reliant on him. Either way, Adrien knew that moving out could have disastrous consequences.

He sighed as he sat down at the empty table and started eating the food on the plate in front of him. If it could be called 'eating.' Really he was just pushing the food around and pretending it looked appetizing.

Adrien gave up after a while, unable to make himself eat. He wiped his hands on a napkin before taking his phone out of his pocket, silently hoping to have received a text.

Nothing.

News alerts and various website notifications. Apparently he'd reached a million followers on Instagram. He didn't even run that account.

"I take it you're not hungry?"

Adrien practically fell out of his seat as he spun around to see his father standing in the doorway. "You scared me," he said accusingly. "I didn't realize you had silent footsteps."

His father shrugged. "Perhaps you weren't paying attention. I know daydreaming is an unfortunate habit of yours. One I believe you should work on breaking." He glanced at his watch. "If you don't intend on eating anything, you can get started with the fitting early. Pierre is waiting for you in the studio off of Rue Cassoni."

Adrien sighed. "Yes, Father."

"And I believe Nathalie has already prepared a car and driver for you," his father said, continuing as if Adrien hadn't spoken. "However, she will not be accompanying you today. She'll be staying with me."

"I understand," Adrien said, rising from his chair. "I'll be on my way."

"Good," was his father's terse reply. "I've already informed Pierre that I expect you back here at 11:30 sharp, meaning I will know if you try to make any unexpected 'detours.' In other words, Adrien, do not make any."

Adrien stared coldly at his father before a smirk slipped onto his lips. "You worry too much. I won't be late." With that, he moved past his father out of the dining room and into the foyer before stepping outside.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, he noticed the limo waiting outside of the gated driveway for him. He checked his phone again before shoving it back into his pocket and walking towards the car.

"Good morning," he said to the driver, who nodded in response. He vaguely recognized the woman's face. She must have driven for his family before.

"Rue Cassoni, right?" she asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror as she pulled away.

"Yep," he replied, popping the 'p.' "Thank you."

Adrien rested his chin on his hand as he stared out the window. He was tempted to close his eyes and drift off to sleep in the warm sun, but the trip to the studio was no longer in ten minutes, so it would be virtually pointless.

He was tempted to check his phone again, but he reminded himself that it was still early. Any emails or texts he might or might not receive probably wouldn't be sent until later.

He'd also looked at his phone less than two minutes ago.

Sighing, Adrien leaned back in his seat and resigned himself to another day of boring work for his father.

xXxXxXx

Marinette fell out of her bed with a screech, slamming her face onto the floorboards as her alarm blared throughout the apartment. "Ow," she muttered, rubbing her forehead and wincing as she hit a tender spot. "That's gonna leave a bruise."

Alya's gift of a new alarm clock was both the best and worst present Marinette had ever received. While it never failed to wake her up, it also never failed to wake her up with a bang. Literally. She always banged her head onto something.

She sighed, reaching up from the ground and stretching to successfully turn off the alarm. Her phone lay on the floor beside her, though she wasn't sure how it had gotten there.

"7 am," she said to herself, yawning as she stood up and started walking to the kitchen area of her apartment. "What a time to be alive."

Marinette poured herself a cup of coffee and added so much creamer that it turned at least four shades lighter. Alya would often joke about it - "Marinette, do you want some coffee with your creamer?"

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the counter before taking a sip. She hummed happily to herself as the caffeine started to flow through her veins, waking her up. It was only a few minutes after seven now, and she had to be at the studio for nine. In theory, she had plenty of time, but she'd also promised Alya that she'd pick up food from her parents' bakery for the two of them. She also wanted to actually see her parents while she was there. Pre-production for the movie had taken up more of her time than she had expected, and she hadn't been able to talk in-person to her parents in weeks.

Marinette took her coffee to her bedroom and started to get dressed for the day, choosing black pants and a dark red sweater she was rather fond of, as it had been one of the first things she'd ever designed and sewn herself.

Well, one of her first designs that was actually worth mentioning, anyway.

She grabbed a pair of black flats before grabbing her coffee and heading into the bathroom, wincing at her frazzled appearance. Adrien was going to show up at the studio at some point to pick up his script, and she was determined to look at least half-decent.

Marinette took another sip of her coffee before grabbing a brush and pulling it through her dark hair. Her body went on autopilot as she put into ponytails and started to apply basic makeup, which allowed her mind to freely wander.

She was excited to start filming the movie, though filming meant she'd have to crack down on costumes. She planned on picking up clothes from the stores sponsoring the movie in a few days, but before that she'd have to get everyone's measurements. Once she got those it was just a matter of sitting down and getting to work.

Thankfully, Alya had reassured her that the more complicated costumes wouldn't be needed until a few weeks out, and Marinette already had all of the fabric and designs for what she planned on making from 'scratch,' so she wasn't worried.

Was she stressed? Absolutely. But not worried. If Alya had faith she could do it, then she could do it. Assuming she didn't get distracted, anyways. With Adrien on set, Marinette wondered if she'd have to lock herself in her trailer if she wanted to get any real work done.

As her body returned from autopilot to manual mode, Marinette studied her reflection in the mirror before shrugging. She was no beauty queen, but at least now she looked presentable. Grabbing her coffee, she left her bathroom and turned the light off behind her.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling her phone out of her pocket. It was only 7:18. Without thinking, she clicked on her contacts. 'Adrien Agreste' was the first one listed.

Marinette sighed, flopping backwards in a terribly ungraceful manner onto her bed. She wanted to text him, but she didn't know what to say. 'Hi' was too plain, 'Yo' did not sound like her at all, and 'Greetings' made her sound like an old woman.

Conclusion: don't text him at all.

Second conclusion: ask Alya what to text him.

Marinette grabbed her purse and shoved her phone into it. She couldn't waste any more time debating with herself about what to text a boy. She had more important things to do - like get breakfast for her and Alya.

She made sure her apartment door was locked before she tucked her keys away and headed downstairs to the parking lot, where her little 'black cherry' car was waiting for her. Fortunately, her parents' bakery was only twenty or so minutes from her apartment, and from there - with the right shortcuts - the bakery was less than ten minutes away from the studio.

While waiting for a red light to turn green, Marinette idly scrolled through songs on her phone. There were almost as many American artists as there were French, but she didn't feel in the mood for English lyrics. As she noticed the lights on the crossing intersection turning red, she hastily chose one of her many Jagged Stone playlists before tossing her phone onto the seat next to her.

The familiar sounds of rock n' roll filled her car as the light turned green and she pulled through the intersection. Traffic was sparse, but it was early on a Sunday morning, so that wasn't out of the ordinary.

Less than twenty minutes later, Marinette pulled into the parking lot of her parents' bakery. She turned off her car and dropped the keys in her purse before turning off the music still playing on her phone. Again she toyed with the idea of sending Adrien a text, but decided against it and got out of her car as she put her phone away.

A bell jingled above her head as she entered the bakery, and the familiar smell of bread and sweets baking swirled in the air around her.

"Your favorite customer is here!" she called, stepping up to the counter. "And I come with money to spend!"

Less than a moment later her mom and dad burst from the back of the bakery and practically ran through the shop to envelop her in a hug.

Not that she minded.

"Marinette, we've missed you so much!" her mom said. "How have you been?"

"You haven't been visiting other bakeries, have you?" her father said sternly before winking at her.

Marinette laughed. "I've been doing great, Mom, and no, I have not been to any other bakeries, Dad." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "What, do you think I'm a cheater or something? I would never."

"Well, what brings you here today?" her dad asked, moving to behind the counter. "Need some breakfast? Or are you just here to visit?"

"A little bit of both," Marinette said. "I need breakfast for Alya and I, but I made sure I got here early so I could spend a little time with the most amazing parents and bakers in the entire world."

"You flatter us too much," her mom chastised. "If we were that good, we'd have a larger shop and a bunch of employees to do the baking for us."

"And that's exactly why you're the best," Marinette countered. "You hand-bake everything and serve your customers personally. I can't think of any other bakery that operates like yours does and still remains constantly busy."

"Speaking of constantly busy," her father said, "how's the movie coming along? It's clear that it's consumed your life."

Marinette giggled. "Well, that much is true. We actually held auditions yesterday, and Alya wants to start filming either tomorrow or the day after. Everything up until now has actually been pre-production, and since we're going to have a real cast from here on out, we have to hit the ground running."

"In other words," her father said, rolling her eyes, "you're going to have even less time to visit until you're done filming."

Marinette laughed nervously, deliberately not making eye contact. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"We're just teasing you, Marinette," her mother chuckled. "We know you'll stop by when you can, and that's all we ask."

"Although," her father added, "it's also nice when you choose to buy a thing or two while you visit."

"Tom!"

"I'm kidding, Sabine." He winked at Marinette. "Mostly."

"Don't listen to him," her mother said, rolling her eyes. "Has anything exciting happened? With casting or any of the pre-production stuff you have to do?"

"I guess it depends on your definition of exciting," Marinette said, sitting down at one of the bakery's tables. "Overall everything has been moving pretty smoothly, which is a good thing, at least for the sake of Alya's sanity."

"How's Alya handling being a director?" her father asked. "I imagine it's a lot of stress to put on one person." He chuckled. "You know, when you two were younger, she was always filming anything and everything around her. I figured she'd grow up to be a photographer or, um, one of those filming people on movie sets."

"I believe the term you're looking for is 'cinematographer,'" Marinette said, smirking. "Not 'filming people.' But I know what you mean." She shrugged. "Alya's been handling everything well so far, and it helps that Nino is an incredibly reliable producer. I think she's going to be a fantastic director."

"I'm sure she will," her mother said, smiling. "Alya has always had very clear ideas in her head of what she wants and how she's going to get it."

Marinette snickered. "Exactly."

"So nothing 'exciting' has really happened yet?" her father said.

"Actually," Marinette mused, "I guess I wouldn't call them 'exciting,' but auditions yesterday were very interesting."

"An inside scoop from the costume designer herself," her mom said. "I've never felt so honored in my life."

Marinette rolled her eyes before laughing. "Okay - what do you want to hear first? The positive or the negative?"

"Get the negative over with first," her father replied. "Save the good news for last."

"Mhm," her mother nodded.

"As you know, the Bourgeois family is funding a majority of this movie," Marinette began. "And we all knew that Chloe Bourgeois was going to be auditioning for it."

"I remember her," her mother said. "Well, she's the mayor's daughter, of course, but didn't you go to school with her?"

"Worst years of my life," Marinette said, rolling her eyes. "Ugh. Anyways, she showed up to audition. Here's the thing: she's actually a really talented actress, and Alya ended up casting her."

"Shouldn't that be considered a good thing?" her father asked, brow furrowed in confusion. "I mean, surely you want the best cast you can possibly get."

"True," Marinette agreed, "but it's not her acting skills that are the issue. The problem is when Chloe Bourgeois decides to simply be herself." She shook her head. "The girl hasn't changed at all, after so many years. She's still a spoiled brat - and, unfortunately, she's a powerful spoiled brat. She knows it, too." She sighed. "I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to use the fact that her family is funding the movie against us somehow."

Her mother winced in sympathy. "That doesn't sound good." She gave her daughter's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But I'm sure you can handle it. There's only one of her, while you have an entire crew on your side."

"Even if you didn't have the whole crew on your side, you have Alya," her father chuckled. "That girl is like a force of nature."

Marinette giggled. "That's the most accurate term you could use to describe her."

"So what was the positive thing that happened?" her mother asked, brushing a strand of her dark hair out of her face.

Marinette clasped her hands together, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Okay, you already know how Gabriel Agreste is my idol in the world of fashion, and how I'd probably die from happiness if I had a chance to meet him. Well…" She beamed at her parents. "His son, Adrien Agreste, auditioned yesterday. Alya decided to cast him, too, but that's not the point." She took a deep breath. "Adrien said that he might, might, be able to get me an interview to work at Gabriel!"

Her parents both gasped before pulling her up out of her chair and into a hug, and Marinette couldn't stop herself from squealing as she hugged them back.

"That's so wonderful, sweetheart!" her mom gushed. "The entire world will be able to see your talent."

"That's if I get an interview and if I actually get the job," Marinette reminded them before giggling. "But isn't it absolutely insane to think about?"

"I have a question about this Adrien kid," her father said. "Is he cute?"

"Dad!" Marinette protested, the blood rushing to her cheeks. "That's none of your business."

"So he is," her father mused. "I see, I see."

"Dad, I've known him for less than a day," Marinette argued. "Stop overthinking things." Trying to change the subject, she gestured at the foods on display beneath the counter. "Should I buy Alya and I's breakfast now, or…?"

"Oh, do you have to leave already?" her mother said, disappointment painting her features. "I was hoping you could stay for a little while longer."

Marinette glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have to be at the studio for 9, and it's not even 8 o'clock yet, so I can probably stay for a little less than an hour," she decided. "I guess I'll wait to get food."

"Perfect!" her father said, nudging her back towards the chair. "Now you can tell us all about this Adrien fellow…"

Marinette groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Why did I even open my mouth?"

xXxXxXx

"One order of chausson aux pommes to go," her mother said, handing Marinette a small pink box with the words 'for the best director' scribbled on the side. "Tell Alya to enjoy them and that we said hi, okay?"

"And don't forget your pain au chocolat," her father added, placing a brown paper bag on top. "Can't have our daughter going hungry."

"Thanks Mom, Dad," Marinette said, giving each parent a kiss on the cheek. "You're the best. I promise I'll try to visit again soon!"

"And bring your money!" her father called after her as she left the bakery and walked to her car.

Marinette laughed. "I will!" she said before climbing in and placing the food on the passenger's seat beside her. She turned the key in the ignition and slowly pulled out of her parking spot. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she saw her parents waving at her. She returned the wave before driving off.

"I knew I shouldn't have convinced them to let me help them bake," she muttered to herself. Now there was a flour stain on the side of her pants that her apron hadn't managed to protect, and she was running late. Not by much, but enough where she questioned if she'd get to the studio on time.

Apparently the universe was on her side, because Marinette ran into the studio carrying the food from the bakery at exactly 9 o'clock.

"I see you made it on time," Alya teased. "A miracle!"

Marinette rolled her eyes before tossing the small pink box at her friend. "Breakfast. You're welcome."

Alya yelped but managed to grab the box out of the air before she opened it. She gasped, her brown eyes wide. "Marinette, you are the most amazing person in the world."

Marinette laughed. "You'd say that to anyone who brings you food."

Alya shrugged, already eating one of the pastries. "I mean, you're right about that." She gestured for her friend to follow her. "Come on. I want to show you a set of storyboards Nath and I made."

Marinette nodded, nibbling on her own food as they walked. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Nothing like that," Alya reassured her. "I just want a second opinion on a fight sequence."

"You want my opinion on a fight sequence?" Marinette said in disbelief. "What did my parents put in that chausson aux pomme?"

Alya rolled her eyes. "Come on, Marinette. You took martial arts for a while."

"Years ago," Marinette muttered, but didn't protest further. She followed Alya to the director's trailer, throwing the now empty paper bag in the small trash can inside.

"Alright," Alya began, grabbing four storyboards and laying them out on a table. "This is the sequence I had planned originally, but now I'm not so sure I like it anymore."

Marinette studied the images. "It's mostly back and forth fighting," she observed. "Isn't that kind of inaccurate?"

"Yes, but it helps us show the dynamic of each character's style more easily," Alya pointed out.

"Then I say just double it if you want to keep it back and forth," Marinette said, shrugging. "Maybe a two-three count if you want to go a little further. Two strikes from one, three strikes from the other, three from the first, two from the second, etc."

Alya grinned at her friend. "Yes! I like that. That's what we'll do." She grabbed a sticky note and wrote 'two-three' on it before placing it on top of the storyboards. "See, this is why you're the most amazing person in the world."

"And the food," Marinette added, smirking as she left the trailer.

Alya shrugged. "True."

"Alya!"

The two turned around to see Juleka and Rose and walking quickly to catch up with them.

"Oh no," Alya said. "Did I forget to do something?"

"Kind of," Juleka said, her cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment. "Rose didn't want me to say anything, but -"

"It's not a big deal," Rose interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Juleka's overthinking it."

"Maybe, but -"

"No 'buts,'" Rose said. "It's fine. I told you it's okay."

"What's going on?" Alya said, confused. "I feel as if I missed a vital part of this conversation."

Rose sighed. "Juleka wants you to change the script so it says 'Daisy' instead of 'David.' But it really doesn't matter -"

"It does matter," Juleka protested. "It's your character, and you earned the part, and the script should reflect that."

Rose's gaze softened. "Oh, Julie…" She moved her girlfriend's bangs out of her face. "I understand why you think it should be changed, and I think it's really sweet that you care so much. But Alya has a lot on her plate already."

Juleka looked as if she wanted to argue further, but sighed. "I understand."

Rose laced her fingers through her girlfriend's. "Thank you."

Marinette watched their interaction awkwardly, taking a bite of her pastry every now and then, unsure of what to say.

"Don't worry, Juleka," Alya said softly, smiling. "I'll write a note on the top of each script telling everyone to change 'David' to 'Daisy' as they go through it."

Juleka nodded, her scarlet eyes lighting up with happiness. "Thank you."

"Now let's leave them alone," Rose giggled, pulling her girlfriend away. "You promised you were going to help me run my lines for at least an hour, remember?"

Marinette watched the two girls leave. "Would it be cliche if I said 'relationship goals?'" she asked as she took the last bite of her pain au chocolat. "I used to think it was impossible to love someone else with your entire being, but I think they care for each other even more than that."

Alya nodded in agreement. "Soulmates, girl. No other explanation."

"Like you and Nino," Marinette said thoughtfully, snickering when Alya glared at her. "Come on. You know I'm right."

"And for that you have to help me put sticky notes on all those scripts," Alya retorted.

"Well, I was going to offer to help anyway," Marinette smirked. "Show me where to go?"

Alya rolled her eyes but took Marinette to a table covered with scripts. "Grab a chair and get going."

It was silent as they fell into the process of grab a script, write a note, toss aside, repeat. Marinette couldn't believe how many there were, but reminded herself that not only did the actors get a copy of the script, but the crew did, too.

"So," Marinette said as she stood from her seat, having finished. She tucked her copy of the script under her arm. "When are people supposed to be picking these up?"

"Well, the crew can grab them whenever," Alya said, standing and pushing her chair back under the table, "but the cast is supposed to…" She trailed off, her eyes widening as she whipped her phone out of her back pocket. "Thanks for reminding me!"

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Reminding you of what, exactly?"

"I need to send out the email about whether people were cast or not," Alya said after a pause. "I kind of forgot to do it this morning…?"

Marinette rolled her eyes. "This movie is making you sound like me."

Alya gasped in mock horror. "Whatever shall I do?" She shrugged, tapping her phone screen. "It's not that big of a deal. I just forgot to send them. I drafted everything last night."

Marinette nodded. "I see. I probably would have forgotten to do it entirely."

Alya snickered. "Sounds like you."

"Hey," Marinette said after a pause. "You're sending an email to Adrien, right?"

Alya sighed. "Was he cast or not, Marinette?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sending Adrien an email."

Marinette felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Good. That's good." She pulled her phone out of her purse. "Then there's a text I need to send."

Alya smirked at her. "Is that so? I expect some details later, girl."

"Yeah, yeah," Marinette laughed. "I know."

Recipient(s): Adrien Agreste

Message: See you at the studio! ;) -Marinette

"Perfect," she murmured happily, sending the text and tucking her phone away before returning her attention to Alya. "So about what time was it you said the cast should be arriving to pick up their scripts?"

xXxXxXx

"Turn for me, please."

Adrien sighed and slowly turned around to show the tailor how the suit looked from behind.

"Hm," Pierre muttered. "Something is off. Face me again and hold your arms out."

Adrien did as instructed, having learned that arguing was pointless and would earn him an 'accidental' pricking with a pin.

Pierre snapped his fingers. "Of course!" He adjusted a few pins on Adrien's side, removing one from each and sticking them into the pincushion he wore on his wrist. "Perfect. Now go change into this." He tossed a black blazer, black jeans, and an emerald green button-down at Adrien, who barely managed to catch them. "I have a feeling it will already fit you relatively well, seeing as it was made very close to your exact measurements."

Adrien had never understood why all the clothes his father wanted him to model were not already made to his exact measurements, but he knew better than to bring up the subject. Some things were just not worth the infamous Gabriel Agreste's time.

He stepped into a dressing room and carefully changed out of the suit, doing his best to avoid both poking himself while also not knocking out any pins. As he slipped into the new clothes, he couldn't help but wonder if he had any new notifications on his phone. Pierre always made him put it away while he was having things fitted.

However, Adrien had made sure to turn the volume all the way up. If someone was trying to contact him, he'd know it right away. But he hadn't heard anything the entire two, three, however many hours he was there. Either he hadn't received any new notifications, or he hadn't actually adjusted the volume.

Yeah, he probably just wasn't getting any notifications.

Adrien carefully carried the suit out of the dressing room and laid it down on a table next to the seven outfits that had already been fitted. Lucky for him, that meant there was only three more to go. Unlucky for him, that also meant he'd get home ahead of schedule and be forced to sit and wait until the meeting. He didn't necessarily enjoy having clothes fitted, but it was better than doing nothing.

Sighing, he headed to the front part of the studio where Pierre was waiting.

"Oh, this looks magnificent," the tailor murmured, looking Adrien up and down. "Casual, yet classy. Gabriel has never failed to impress me." He rolled his eyes. "Then again, according to my boss, I'm just a lowly tailor who isn't allowed an opinion because I supposedly 'don't know fashion.'" He snorted. "She's the one who doesn't know fashion, wearing a disgusting gray pantsuit every day like she does."

Adrien had no idea what the man was going on about, but that wasn't unusual.

"Alright, the blazer fits fine," Pierre continued. "Take it off so I can make sure the button-down does, too."

Adrien did as instructed, and Pierre circled him, looking him over. It used to unnerve him, being eyed like he was a toy or some sort of mannequin, but he quickly learned that it came with the job.

"No changes needed," Pierre announced. "God, I do love saying that. Means less work for me."

"But you still write down that you made changes to everything?" Adrien asked dubiously.

"A man has to make money somehow," Pierre responded, shrugging. "I think your father is able to spare just a little extra."

Adrien sighed. He wasn't wrong, technically speaking. "Yes, but -"

He was interrupted by the sounds of Jagged Stone's latest song blaring throughout the studio, which apparently had great acoustics.

Adrien laughed nervously as Pierre glared at him. "I'll just check that real quick." He ran over to the table at the back of the room, where his phone was still blasting music. He hastily turned the volume all the way down, then checked to see what notification had been the cause of the sound.

"Huh," he muttered. It was a text from an unknown number. He typed his password in before opening the entire message, which read: 'See you at the studio! ;) -Marinette.'

His eyes widened. Marinette?! He almost dropped his phone as he hastily opened his email, praying her text meant what he thought it meant. Sure enough, it said he had one new message.

Fingers shaking, Adrien clicked on it.

Congratulations, Adrien! You've been cast in the role of Chat Noir/Adam by the Coccinelle Film Company. If you choose to accept, please report to our studio between 10am and 12pm to pick up your script and the filming schedule. Hope to see you there!

Alya Césaire

If Pierre hadn't been watching him and tapping his foot impatiently, Adrien probably would have done some sort of happy dance. He couldn't even stop himself from beaming as he stuck his phone in his pocket and started walking towards the door.

"And where exactly are you going?" Pierre demanded, hands on his hips.

"Some unexpected business that I have to attend to immediately," Adrien replied, pushing the door open. "I'll be back soon."

"At least change out of those clothes!" Pierre begged, but his plea went unheard. Adrien was already out the door.

He quickly hopped into the car waiting for him.

"Done already?" the driver asked.

"Not exactly," Adrien said, smiling. "Take me to Coccinelle Studio. There's something I need to pick up there. After that we'll return here and I'll finish up with Pierre."

The driver bit her lip. "I was instructed to have you back home by 11:30 -"

"I'm well aware," Adrien interrupted. "However, I am not a child who lacks the concept of time. Pierre was ahead of schedule with fitting, and it'll take maybe twenty minutes to go there and back. It won't even be 11 o'clock by the time we return."

The driver hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. But only if you're in and out of that studio in less than five minutes."

Adrien nodded. "Understood." He stared out the window as the driver pulled away, unable to stop his foot from tapping anxiously during the drive there.

He was amazed he'd been cast. He knew he was good, but he didn't think he was good enough. But now he had a chance to prove to his father that acting was a career worth pursuing. And what made it even better was that he'd be working with people who felt the same way, from the cast to the crew.

Needless to say, he was excited.

A little voice in Adrien's head reminded him that Marinette was also one of those people he'd get to work with, but he ignored it. He had more pressing matters on his hands - like the fact that the driver was pulling up to the studio at that very moment.

"In and out," she reminded him, but he was already gone.

xXxXxXx

"And that's perfect," Max said. "Thanks for your help, Marinette."

"No problem," Marinette replied. She laughed. "You actually taught me a lot about cameras."

Max shrugged. "Cinematography is an art, and that art includes the setting up and positioning of cameras." He glanced at his watch. "I'm expecting a phone call in a few. See you in a bit."

Marinette waved as he walked away before pulling her phone from her purse to check the time. "10:35, huh?" she mused. Since it was after ten, it meant Adrien could be dropping by at any time to pick up his script.

"Or he might be arriving right before noon," Alya suggested, and Marinette realized she'd accidentally spoken her thoughts out loud. "You never know."

Marinette pouted. "Way to burst my bubble."

"That's my job," Alya said, ruffling her friend's hair. "Someone's gotta bring you to your senses." Then she winked at her. "But, if you want my honest opinion, I think Adrien will be here pretty soon. His dad probably doesn't like him being away too much."

"I don't even care that much about when he'll get here," Marinette said. "I just want to see him."

"Am I, uh, interrupting something?"

Marinette turned around and was suddenly face to face with Nathaniel.

He made a noise similar to a squeak and stepped back. "Sorry," he murmured. "Didn't realize I was so close."

"You're fine," Marinette reassured him. "Is there something you need?"

"I was wondering if you could help me with the set for a moment," he explained. "I just need you to hold the ladder for a minute or so. That way I can get to the top step without the fear of it collapsing beneath me."

"Of course!" Marinette replied.

"I'll be with Nino if you need me," Alya said, waving as she walked away.

Marinette nodded before following Nathaniel to the set of Maria-slash-Ladybug's room, which he'd spent weeks building - with the help of a crew, thankfully.

"It looks so amazing," Marinette said, still in awe of how detailed everything was, from the designs on the bedposts to the pattern of the carpet on the floor. "If I didn't know we were in a studio, I'd probably believe this was someone's dorm on a campus."

"Maybe a luxury dorm," Nathaniel corrected, a crooked smile on his face. "But thank you."

She followed him to the ladder in the corner of the room, where she held it steady so he could climb up.

"There's a section I haven't been able to paint," Nathaniel said as he carefully stood on the highest step. "I got distracted because auditions were suddenly the most important thing on the table, and I almost forgot about it."

"If you hadn't pointed it out, I doubt I'd have even noticed," Marinette said honestly.

Nathaniel shrugged. "That's true, but…" He offered her his crooked smile again, which was so endearing. "It would have annoyed me."

Marinette chuckled. "I understand. If I mess up a stitch on a costume, even if no one else can see it, I still have to go and fix it for my own peace of mind."

She watched as Nathaniel painted over the blank spot in the top corner of the wall, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated. Before she knew it, he was done.

"I'm climbing down now," he warned her. "I don't want to accidentally kick you in the face."

"In all honesty, it's probably only fair that you kick me in the face," Marinette said plainly as she moved out of the way. "I am the clumsiest person on the planet and have done more than my fair share of accidentally kicking people in the face."

Nathaniel smiled as he stepped down from the last step onto the ground beside her. "If you say so."

"Yo, anyone know where the scripts are?"

Marinette recognized Alix leaning through the doorway. "I know where they are," she said. "Why? Do you need a copy?"

"Not me," Alix replied. "Someone else."

"I can get one," Marinette offered. "Should I bring it to you?"

"Nah," Alix said. "Some blonde guy said he's gonna be waiting outside the door, if you don't mind bringing it to him. He says that he's 'in a rush.'"

Marinette didn't miss the stagehand's overly dramatic finger quotes. "Alright. Thanks!"

"You're welcome."

"I'll see you later, Nath!" Marinette said as she started to make her way towards the back table where scripts were still piled up, not staying long enough to hear his response. She grabbed the first script her fingers touched before running towards the exit-slash-entrance to the studio. Waiting outside was -

"Adrien?" she gasped. Realizing her reaction wasn't exactly a good conversation starter, she tried to correct herself. "Uh, I mean, hi?"

Adrien laughed. "I was hoping it was you that pink-haired girl was talking with."

Marinette blushed. "That was Alix. And if that's what you were hoping, then I guess you got lucky."

He smiled at her. "Very lucky." He gestured towards the script in her hand. "I take it that's for me?"

Marinette glanced down. "Oh! Right, right." She practically shoved it into his arms. "Yes, that's doors. Yours." She took a deep breath. "That's yours." She suddenly noticed the fancy clothing he was wearing. "Um, if you don't mind my asking… Why are you dressed like you're going to a 'casual wear' party?"

Adrien looked down at himself, as if he hadn't even noticed what he was wearing. He laughed. "I should have figured the fashion expert would have pointed that out." He scratched the back of his head. "I was kind of in the middle of a fitting when I got your text and Alya's email, and I also kind of dropped everything to come get the script and rehearsal schedule." He froze. "Is the rehearsal schedule -"

"It's stapled to the script," Marinette reassured him.

His shoulders relaxed. "Great."

"I guess you have to leave now?" Marinette said after a pause. "Alix said you were in a hurry and stuff."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah. I have to finish the fitting, then attend a meeting, and I also have a photoshoot this evening."

Marinette winced. "Ouch. How are you going to handle all of that plus filming a movie?"

He shrugged, but was smiling. "Who knows? I guess I'll just have to roll with the punches."

Marinette giggled. "Whatever you say. See you tomorrow?"

Adrien's smile widened. "Yep. See you tomorrow."

When she was certain he was out of sight, Marinette slumped against the studio wall, sighing happily to herself. This movie was going to be even better than she thought.

xXxXxXx

Adrien took a deep breath before gently knocking on the door leading into his father's study. "Father? There's something I'd like to talk to you about." He paused, listening for any noises inside. It wasn't unusual for someone to have to wait for up to thirty minutes before his father would even answer the door.

Surprisingly, however, Adrien heard locks clicking less than five minutes later.

"I trust this is important," his father said, stepping aside to allow his son to enter.

"It is," Adrien said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "It's about -"

His father held up a hand to silence him. "First, I'd like you to tell me your thoughts on the meeting you attended with me today."

Adrien resisted the urge to sigh. At least his father hadn't kicked him out yet. "I understand why they think you should broaden the company to encompass more than fashion and clothing, but I don't think it suits you and what the company stands for."

"I agree," his father said. "Why do you say that?"

Adrien shrugged. "I think there's better directions to go than 'Gabriel and Blenders,' you know?"

"Such as?"

Adrien struggled to articulate his thoughts. "Maybe you could broaden the definition of fashion. Right now it's primarily 'party' wear, so stretch it a bit further. Or try to make lines of clothing with eco-friendly or recycled fabrics. Appeal to more audiences without trying to market an entirely different product."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Interesting approach." There was a long pause before he continued. "I appreciate your thoughts on the matter, Adrien. I may even be inclined to use some of them. Now." He adjusted his glasses. "What was it you wished to speak with me about?"

"It's about the film being produced by the Coccinelle Film Company," Adrien said. "I'm very grateful you allowed me to audition." Though I don't actually need your permission, he added silently. "I heard back from the director today, and I learned I've been cast as one of the lead roles." He handed his father a sheet of paper. "This is a copy of the filming schedule. I've already arranged transportation as I need it, and I trust you'll be able to rearrange any meetings or photoshoots where I may be needed in order to fit the schedule. Thank you."

He watched his father's jaw tighten, and braced himself for an argument. But what he did not expect was for his father to relent.

"I see," his father murmured. "I will do that." He nodded at his son. "Congratulations on the part. I trust you will work hard, but do not forget about your duties as my son."

Adrien nodded. "I understand."

"Perhaps being in this film is a way of performing the duties as your mother's son," his father added, his voice distant.

Adrien froze, but nodded again. "I think… I think she'd support me in this."

His father chuckled, but his tone was tinged with bitterness. "Yes, I'm sure she would." He stared at his son, but Adrien knew he was seeing someone else. "Dismissed."

Adrien left without uttering another word, closing the study door quietly behind him. He sighed, but his chest felt lighter than when he'd gone in. If nothing else, he'd managed to get his father's approval, or at least his toleration.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him. Curious, he pulled it out, only to see that it was a text from Marinette.

Marinette: Make sure to read over your script tonight!

Adrien smiled before responding with a brief message of his own.

Adrien: I will. See you tomorrow.

He hadn't even tucked his phone away before it buzzed with a response.

Marinette: Cya! :)

Adrien's smile widened. He had a feeling that this film was going to be much more fun than he had expected.

xXxXxXx

I know this chapter is shorter than chapter one, but rest assured that there are future chapters that will be plenty long. I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! See you next time! (Aka whenever I finish writing chapters 11-15. Oof.)