You were absolutely convinced that everyone at your school was a bunch of insensitive jerks. When you returned to school after lunch (having got a small snack from a corner shop), after Chloé had left, you came back to a celebration — everyone in school was ecstatic, and you had no clue as to why. Glancing around, you found a picture on the floor, and picked it up nervously; it was of Chloé in front of the statue of liberty, looking way too happy for her liking.
A depressed sigh escaped you, and you rubbed your sore eyes, with a grimace. This was just stupid; why in hell’s name would you throw a party for someone leaving? Even if it was Chloé, it was still inexcusable.
All of the teachers seemed to be too busy having fun, so you just sat down heavily on the steps, and stared glumly at the photo in your hands. So, she’d be going to America then, to a completely different country. But willingly? You couldn’t quite understand that, as someone who hadn’t been too pleased with moving away from their home country. She was French, and as far as you knew, her English wasn’t great.
She probably just wanted to get the hell away from all of these people at her school, and honestly, looking around you, you couldn’t blame her.
“Hey,” Adrien suddenly sat next to you, with a shy yet sad smile. “You ok?”
“No, to be honest, I’m not,” you replied dismally. “I should’ve been nicer to Chloé, you know? I should’ve talked to her more, maybe found out more about her…”
“You were really nice to her, (Y/n). As someone who wants Chloé to have more friends, I think you did more than you think,” Adrien offered, placing a hand on your shoulder. “So… thank you for that.”
“I don’t deserve to be thanked,” you murmured bitterly. “Maybe you think that I did enough, but Chloé doesn’t. Because she left.”
Adrien flinched, and looked away; you two shared a brief moment of silence, before all of a sudden, a dark shadow emerged from the sky; you peered upwards curiously, only to find a helicopter, and the akumatized mayor of Paris leaning out of it. There was a brief flash of light, as he commanded that the school be made a demolition site, and then everyone swiftly dispersed, and began to trash the place. Instantly, doors were being knocked over, and school books were littering the courtyard, papers flying through the air like birds, chaos taking over in a matter of seconds.
“What in fuck’s name—?” you began to say quizzically, before Adrien quickly grabbed you, and pulled you into an empty room.
“Chloé must’ve done something, if the mayor is after her,” Adrien mumbled, as Plagg flew out of his jacket.
“Yeah, why else would he be wearing such a bad costume?” Plagg added, with a snicker.
You raised an eyebrow, and let out a scoff. “Good point.” Then you paused, and snapped your fingers, turning to Adrien, “I’m going to go and find Chloé, will you give me some time?”
“But that’s dangerous! And how do you know where she is?” he asked frantically, grabbing your hands anxiously.
“I’ll be fine, I can handle myself,” you assured, glancing around, before realising you were in a storage room. With that knowledge, you searched for something to defend yourself with, and finally found some lightweight iron pipes, used as backups for the school’s sewage system.
“But (Y/n), what are you even going to do?” Adrien clumsily followed you, as you pulled yourself away from him, and crouched down to pick up two medium sized tubes. “You can’t face off against him! He’s all-powerful now!”
“Adrien, listen,” you spoke, standing up properly, “there’s nothing I’ve wanted my whole life than to take down a dictator, and lead a revolution. So, I’m going to do exactly that, with the help of a few of my friends.” You pulled out your phone, and clicked on Lucinda’s contact.
The blond was visibly concerned by your determination, but he deflated in defeat, and gave you a wry smile; “Well, I don’t think I could stop you if I tried,” he laughed, but then gently grasped your forearms, and turned you to face him. “Just please be careful, ok? I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”
You blinked, surprised by his adamant protectiveness, but then smiled, and reached up to ruffle his hair. “Don’t you worry,” you hummed, “you just do what you’ve got to do, cat boy. I’ll have Chloé back before teatime.”
Adrien gave up at trying to stop you, before pausing; “Could you… turn away while I transform?” he asked shyly.
“Huh?” you blinked in confusion. “Why? Do you do some weird poses or something?”
Adrien was about to deny your accusation, when Plagg popped up, cackling like a gremlin, “You’re exactly right, (Y/n)! He is a total poser! The first time he transformed, he wasn’t scared at all, in fact he posed like his entire life had led up to that moment!”
“Plagg! Shut up!” Adrien huffed, grabbing the small creature annoyedly. “Hey, are you laughing at me?!” he questioned, giving you a little shake.
“Nope! W-Why would I laugh? There’s nothing funny going on—” you cut yourself off by letting out a giant snort, and then doubled over, heaving with laughter.
Adrien softened, and let his hand rest gently against your shoulder — he mumbled something in French under his breath, that you didn’t quite understand, but you did manage to determine that it was a variation of ‘I like you’, except much stronger.
(You tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean what you hoped it did.)
“Alright, I’ll look away,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender, and turning away.
“You’re absolutely hopeless,” you vaguely heard Plagg say, before Adrien told him to be quiet, and then said something along the lines of ‘claws out’.
There was a brief flash behind you, which made you jump in surprise, before Adrien finally spoke again, “You can turn around now.”
Once you looked back, you smiled slightly; there he was, the great Chat Noir; only now did you properly notice that Adrien felt much more comfortable as his alter-ego, rather than himself. That was sad, but it made sense, and as long as he was happy, you’d let him do whatever he felt best doing. “Right, cat boy, you go do your thing, and I’ll mobilise my forces,” you instructed, preparing to dial Lucinda.
“But of course,” he winked, and walked past you purposefully slowly. “Well, I’ll see you later, then, lovely.”
“Yeah, alright, take it easy there,” you rolled your eyes playfully, and watched him stride out; he blew you a kiss, before he exited, and then he was gone; and then the sound of commotion filled the air.
You exhaled quietly, pulling yourself together, before ringing Lucinda, and pressing your phone to your ear, as you shuffled out, being careful to avoid being seen by anyone. “Lucinda? How do you feel about overthrowing the akumatized mayor, and being part of a protection squad?” you asked, once she picked up.
“I’ll be there in ten,” she assured, her voice crackly, due to the poor reception, “the school’s already been closed because of the danger, so I’m free. Where should I meet you?”
“The Starbucks where I work would be a good place,” you replied, before violently dodging a flying textbook, whilst letting out an angry, “Watch where you’re throwing your shit, you fucking wanker!”
“Right… will be there, as soon as possible!” Lucinda exclaimed excitedly, “Oh, I can’t wait for this!” she hung up straight afterwards, and you grinned, knowing you’d gotten one person on board.
Your grin dropped when you glanced behind you, to see that Chat Noir had been turned into… a cat. No, you weren’t joking, this boy had literally turned into a feline.
(It was real damn hard to resist the urge to go and stroke him.)
Then, you shook your head, and sprinted out of the school; you’d have to leave that mess up to Ladybug, for now, you had only one goal in mind, and that was to find a certain blonde girl. And, luckily for you, you knew exactly where to find her, since you’d been introduced to her favourite spot after having filmed her documentary with her.
It took a while to reach the mayor’s house, but when you did, you ended up having to sneak past a bunch of guards, which were armed with shields and guns, and until you had back-up, you weren’t planning on attacking them yet. But, through amazing ninja skills and patience, you managed to get past them all, and reach Chloé’s private balcony. Once you arrived, you crawled past the overturned tables, looking out for your friend, still holding onto those pipes you’d taken from the storage room.
“Chloé?!” you hissed, peeking your head up, to look around. You heard a gasp, and then a clatter of objects, and you caught sight of Chloé rushing away, visibly panicked. “Chloé!” you called out, rushing after her, as she sped through the fire exit. “Chloé, it’s only me!”
She stopped, caught off guard by the sound of English rather than French, and that was how she cleared her brain enough to realise it was you. “(Y/n)! Mon dieu, I was so scared it was a police officer!” she exclaimed, changing tack immediately, and rushing back over to you.
Letting out a stuttered sigh, you couldn’t help feeling the utmost relief at the sight of her, but that gladness quickly morphed into shock when she threw herself at you, and enveloped you in a hug, clutching at you like a sloth. “Oof — bloody hell, take it easy,” you wheezed, patting her back awkwardly.
“You’re going to help me, right?” Chloé begged, stepping back.
“Yes, but I’d like some context first,” you responded, sitting her down, so you were both kneeling on the floor.
“You were there, weren’t you?! It was all their fault!” Chloé snapped, folding her arms defensively, and moving away from your touch.
“Chloé… please tell me what’s really going on. We’re friends aren’t we?” you urged her gently, all too aware of how she might take what you’d said the wrong way, as you placed the pipes down next to you.
“I know you only pretend to like me! Just how Adrien does, and Sabrina!” she snapped, coiling away like a scared animal. “No one likes me! No one will ever like me!”
“How did you even get to that conclusion?!” you retorted in disbelief, “Who ever said that I don’t like you?!”
“I don’t need someone to tell me, I just know!” she screamed hysterically, backing up against the wall; you flinched, moving towards her, and in response, she curled up into a ball, and rocked herself frantically. “No one likes me, no one likes me, no one likes me…” she whispered, shaking furiously.
You were panicking immensely, but managed to gain the courage to place a hand on her shoulder. Chloé started, but didn’t push you off, it seemed she was too exhausted to do so, exhausted by people hating her, or trying to take advantage of her. “Chloé, what’s going on? I’d like to know, as your friend,” you inquired softly.
From beneath her arms, she mumbled, “Because I hurt him. I want to leave Paris forever. I have no place here, and no one wants me here, so I’m basically useless. And… maybe if I go to New York, I can get Mum to love me properly! No one else gets it because everyone else serves a purpose. I’m nothing at all, without the Bee Miraculous, so I should just leave, and get out of everyone’s business.”
“Chloé, no one is useless,” you denied, taking off her sunglasses, so her hair wasn’t painfully held back. “And you definitely aren’t. I cried like a baby when you left a few hours ago, and now I’m going to try and convince you to stay, because I want you to help me fix this mess.”
“How am I supposed to help you with that?” she questioned weakly, looking up and wiping her eyes, causing her blue eyeliner to smudge. “I’m not useful, and I’m not exceptional.”
“Chlo, if everyone was exceptional, then no one would be,” you reasoned, giving her nose a playful tap. “So, will you help me clear this up?”
She sniffled, and winced, then nodded shakily. “I don’t know how useful I can be, but I’ll try,” she affirmed.
“Brilliant,” you gave her a supportive smile. “Now, go put on that Queen Bee costume of yours. I don’t think you’d want your designer clothes to get dirty.”