It All Started With The Voicemail

Chapter One

It All Started With The Voicemail

(The part of Copycat with the voicemail thing, except the ceremony and Copycat don’t exist)

“Well, girl? You gonna do it or not?”

Marinette fumbled with her phone, almost dropping it. Twice. “I don’t know, Alya, I just--”

“Ok, then, I’ll choose for you. Yes.” Alya grabbed the phone out of her friend’s hands. She pressed ‘call’, and the only sound that could be heard was the phone’s calling sound. Other than that, it was dead silent, but that doesn’t mean that they were doing nothing.

“Marinette, you look like a chicken jumping on hot coals. You’re gonna have to calm down, you’ll have to talk any--” Alya was interrupted by a new sound coming from the phone.

“Hey, this is Adrien’s voicemail. Leave a message.”

“...moment,” Alya finished. “That timing was pretty spot-on, don’t you think? ...Marinette? You know this is being recorded, right?” She got a panicked yell in return. “Alright, alright, I think I can redial. Quit throwing your pillows around.” She hit the redial button, and the ringing began once again.

Taking deep breaths, Marinette slowly got her cool back. “So, I’ll go over the plan. I look at the script for what to say, and I go to the movies with Adrien. And have kids and a pet and--”

“How about we see how the movie works out before planning your life around this,” Alya butted in, cutting off her friend’s ridiculous rambling. “And you forgot the most important thing. Do. Not. Improvise. We all know how well that works for you.”

“Alright, ok, I got this. No rambling, I got this, I got this.” Marinette gave herself a mini pep talk.

“Hey, this is Adrien’s voicemail. Leave a message.”

“I DON’T GOT THIS, I-- ahem… Uhh, hello. Uh, Adrien's voicemail, uh, this is Marinette, who, uh, has a message for you, of course, ‘cause it's, uh, your phone, so, umm... heheh… Callmeseeyoulater, bye!” She threw her phone on her chaise, spinning in her chair in embarrassment. Alya gave her a look. “What? What did you expect me to say? ‘Hey, hot stuff, this is Marinette, I'd ask you on a date to a movie, but I've got such a crazy crush on you that the only way I can talk to you without foaming out the mouth is over this stupid phone.’ Pretty ridiculous, right?” Alya blinked. The phone spoke.

“If you wish to hear your message again, press 1. If you wish to erase your message, press 2.”

“NONONONONO! This can’t happen!” Marinette lunged for her phone, pressed a button, and heard the voice of doom.

“Message saved. Goodbye.”

Marinette, surprisingly, didn’t panic. That fact was worrying Alya. They both stared at the phone, wondering what to do next. Mari then stood, expression still blank, and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Alya stayed up in the room, but after a few minutes of silence, she went down to check on her friend.

“Girl, where’d you even go? I didn’t hear the door, so where are you?” Alya heard some shuffling near her. “...Mari, hun, what exactly are you doing in the garbage bin? How’d you even fit in there?”

“What are you talking about? I’m in my home, where I belong. The eggshells and wrappers have accepted me as one of them.”

Alya sighed. “Nope, your home is with the other humans in this house, not with eggshells. Now come on, get out.” She held out her hand to help her up. Marinette took it, stepped out of the bin, and looked at the floor.

“Alya, there is no way I can go to school again! If anyone hears of this, it’ll be the end of me. Just Adrien alone should have never heard it, and I could never bear to face him again. Please, just let me stay in the trash bin.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, trash seems like the clingy type.” She gestured to Mari’s clothes, bits of garbage all over. “It’d never let you leave without it.”