The Luckiest: Cat Noir/Adrien Agreste x OC

Mr. Pigeon

Marie pov:

"You only have one day to work on your fashion piece, and it must be your own design." Today, Mr. Damocles, our principal, came into our classroom to speak about a design contest that is happening at our school. Cool right?! "In ten hours your fittest presentation will be judged by none other than the great fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, the father of our very own student Adrien Agreste. In fact, Adrien will model the winning design in his next photoshoot." I have to do well! It's my dream to be a fashion designer.  Also it's kind of bonus to have Adrien model a design I made. "And now, to announce this year's theme: derby hats." "Derby hats?" I gasp. It can't be derby hats! I'm not good at making them. I'm so going to fail. Chloé looks over at Alya and and makes a thumbs-down at us.
~

"Derby hat, derby hat, derby hat, derby hat...!" I pace back and forth as I search through my sketchbook. "I don't have any derby hat designs. I've got top hats, caps, even two-horned hats! Need a beret? I'm your girl. A sombrero? No problem-o. But a derby?! You know what? It won't even matter, 'cause I'll probably make a total fool of myself at the event, most likely trip over my stupid derby and collapse on Mr. Agreste; give him a full-blown concussion and everyone will hate me! I'll never be a world-renowned fashion designer. MY LIFE IS OVER!" I collapse into the bench and Alya immediately holds me up.

"All this over a derby hat? Let me see your sketchpad, girl." She opens my book and searches through it ."There must be something in here." I sit next to her. "Forget it, I'm a disaster zone. I'll probably mess everything up in the end." I pull my knees up into my chest. Adrien walks over to us.

"Wow, Alya, those are some awesome designs. I didn't know you had such mad skills." He leans over us with his arm propped up on the wall. Why did I get such a Cat Noir vibe? "Uh, thanks Adrien, but I can't take the credit. These sick designs belong to Marie." I smile and wave. "Off the chain, right?" Alya is literally the most perfect hype/wing woman. "You're super talented, Marie. You seriously have a good chance of winning."
"Oh! U-Uh t-thank you!" I blush. "Sure. and uh-- good luck. Maybe I'll be wearing your derby at father's next photoshoot." Adrien winks and he leaves. I'm such a blushing mess! Why does he have to be so handsome!

Alya stands up with me. "Girl, you gotta get a grip next time. But did you hear? Adrien thinks you're good enough to win!" We squeal and cheer. After our little squeal fest, Alya checks her phone. "Only have nine hours until show time." "Ah! Yikes! I'm off to my secret garden of inspiration. I'll see you later." I turn and immediately faceplants into a wall. "AH! I'm okay. I'm okay, I'm okay." I sigh heavily and screaming as I almost run into another wall.
~

In need of some inspiration, I decide to find my usual spot in Gardens of the Trocadero, across from the Eiffel Tower. I make a sketch but I quickly tear off the page and crumple it. "Geez, it's hard to be creative under pressure." Tikki sits peaking her head out of my purse. "Marie, you save the world under pressure. I think designing a hat should be a piece of cake!" "Hm, a cake derby hat. Stylish and tasty." We both giggle. I continue to draw different designs, but ripping them out after being dissatisfied with them. After a while, the crumpled paper piles higher and higher. I sigh, it's so annoying that I can't think of a design.

I look up to see a man walking like a bird sit down on a bench ahead of me. He takes out a brown paper bag and blows a bird call. I grin as a cluster of pigeons approaches him, dodging one that flies over me. The man throws crumbs out of a paper bag. "Well, happy day, happy day! Splendid is the afternoon day. Ah, Edgar, you fancy one. Fantastic, dazzling performance." I smile at his happiness. He's really kind and cares very deeply about the pigeons.

Suddenly, police officer approaches him. "Scram, you winged rats!" He yells as he approaches the man, scaring away all the pigeons. "How many times do you need to be told, Mr. Ramier? No! FEEDING! The pigeons! It's strictly forbidden. If everyone feeds them, they'll leave their waste everywhere!" "But, who's going to feed my poor pigeons?" The man called Mr.Romier says worriedly. "All the park keepers know about you, Mr. Ramier. You're banned from every park in Paris. Leave now or I'll call the authorities. Oh, wait. I'm the authorities. GET OUT!" Rodger the cop yells in his face.