· · ─────── ·♥· ─────── · ·
••• questions •••
THE calls he couldn't avoid made a return once more.
"Adrien! Over here!"
"Adrien, can we get a smile?"
"Mr. Agresté!"
"Adrien, eyes here!"
An overwhelming amount of people were crowding around the Agrestés, who were entering the venue for the launching of a new pop-up store by Gabriel's brand. Of course, Gabriel wasn't bothered to answer any of the call-outs, instead he just strided into the hall as the bodyguard followed. Adrien waved, his award-winning smile plastered upon his face for all the cameras. It was an instinct, you know. Being a model and all that.
"Move along, Adrien. We don't want to keep your father waiting," said Nathalie, gently tapping the 16-year-old boy's back. His grin for the cameras faltered a little as he nodded obediently. "Yes, right."
He stood stiffly beside his father, Gabriel's shadow looming over him intimidatingly; what his life was. It was important to hold up the image of perfection, because that's what his father claimed for Adrien to be; a perfect picture.
It was pretty obvious that he was not the sort. He was a sixteen year old teenager placed on a pedestal from a young age, who wanted nothing more than to live normally.
Obviously was never going to happen.
"The launch of this store and collection is a tribute to my lovely wife, who unfortunately we have lost a few years back. She was a heart of purity, a ray of sunlight, my sun. I hope you understand how important this launch is for me," announced Gabriel, a lump forming in Adrien's throat as his late mother was mentioned.
He never took the loss well, as he happened to have an extremely close bond with her. When she had collapsed into that coughing fit, gasping for air, sputtering for dear life, it left a big scar in his brain; a scar he could never outgrow.
Smoothing out his white outercoat, he shook out of his unpleasant flashback turmoil, focusing back once more on the present event that was taking place.
As per usual, it was the same old thing. His father and Nathalie worked out the opening, while he was basically dragged around and ordered to stand at places, like a robot.
When it came to events like these, it was blantly obvious he didn't like them one bit.
So while Gabriel reluctantly was answering countless questions for national television, Adrien fumbled with his fingers mindlessly. By all means he avoided eye contact from the currently restless hoard of fangirls awaiting to seize the chance to take a photo with him.
Ah, the downsides of being the son of a celebrity designer.
His thoughts then wandered into the usual fantasy of how it would be, living out a life a normal teenager would live. Going to public school, no eyes constantly gaping you out, nobody asking for a photo or weird stalkers. No excessive amount of people to please. Being able to actually have friends. He had always longed for it.
"Adrien!" The stern call from his father yanked him out of the daydreaming. He locked with his father's cold grey stare, subconsciously taking a nervous gulp. "Yes, Father?" he responded timidly. "We need to be heading off now. You have fencing in a half an hour."
So he wasn't going to ask if he was feeling overwhelmed. Well, wasn't that expected?
"Right, of course," Adrien said solemnly as he tailed behind his father.
Reporters yelled a few questions at the blond teenager, one particular one always being awaited.
"Adrien! What's your favourite colour?"
As always, he had answered the same thing, and today was no different.
"I don't have one," he blurted, like it was an automatic response. "What's your personal favourite piece from this collection?"
Given that he'd modeled endless pairings of the line and still had more to go, the boy was able to mentally scan through everything. "The velvet jacket. That or the earrings," he beamed softly at the reporter who had asked that question.
Another one approached. "Adrien! We heard you're competing in the upcoming fencing tournament against D'Argencourt Academy next Saturday, how are you feeling about it, and I wish you a good luck!"
He felt his father's gaze on him once more, and he tensed up as an honest answer faded away. He couldn't say he was nervous. His father wouldn't like that at all. "Thank you, I'll be at my best hopefully, excited," he spoke into the microphone, slightly trembling as Gabriel's pressure on him began to push harder.
Another reporter came, and when a low grumble of displeasure came from his father, he knew this would be the last question of the day. "I know this may not be professional of me, but my niece is such a fan, she wants to be a model like you one day. Do you mind signing an autograph?"
He didn't wait for Gabriel's word. The statement touched his heart in a way. "No I don't mind at all, of course!" Adrien answered chirpily, signing a cute polaroid of the niece posing next to one of the posters of an ad campaign he did about a few months ago. "Tell her I said hi," the boy added as he handed back the picture and pen.
With that, Gabriel raised a hand to silence the other reports crowding his son. "Adrien has a fencing class to attend, we'd appreciate if you'd let us leave now, thank you," he said solemnly, Nathalie initiating for Adrien to move along with his father.
As he slipped into the car and the door slammed shut behind him, the blond boy could just catch a glance at the many other fans who hadn't been able to interact with him yet, waving frantically. Letting out an anxious exhale, he felt something push against his left side of his body. He turned to see Nathalie passing him his fencing bag.
"Thank you," said Adrien, tugging the straps of the duffle bag closer to himself.
One thing he looked forward to during fencing practice was seeing one of his few friends, Kagami Tsurugi there. Her mother was the one who ran the center, their family being a prestigious line of fencers dating back decades.
"I trust you to work as hard as you can for next week's tournament, Adrien," Gabriel spoke up, though voice set in monotone, the boy knew he meant it seriously. "Yes, of course, Father," he replied.
Those were the only words exchanged, the rest of the ride being taken over by a silence so thick, so uncomfortable, to the point where Adrien felt oddly stuffy.
"I'll be back to pick you up in an hour for your Mandarin lessons," Nathalie informed without looking up from her tablet. "Alright," was all he said as he closed the door.
"You're a minute and twelve seconds later than usual, surprisingly enough," a certain red-cladded fencer called from the benches as he entered, the blond knowing well it was none other than Kagami. She often joked about his arrivals, let it be late or early by mere seconds, she caught it all. "Still got your precision game on?" Adrien raised his eyebrows amusingly as he placed down his bag to take out his gear.
"You bet," she returned, pulling down her epee mask then flicking her sabre. "What was it today?"
She knew how he had to be at almost every event involving the Agresté brand, he was the son of the founder and the face of it, afterall.
"Pop up store and line launch," he told her as he slipped his uniform on top of his casual clothing. "Was it big?" she continued to ask, pausing her current movements. The boy shrugged as he grabbed his own mask. "It was more to the special and not big side of things you could say," he put it simply, slipping on his mask.
The two took it to where Madame Tsurugi was awaiting them, epee masks pulled down.
"En-garde!" Tomoe called.
"Pret!"
"Allez!"
The two put up a good fight, making it almost impossible for the bystanders to tell who had the upper hand. It was expected though. Adrien and Kagami were the best of the best at Tsurugi Fencer Institute.
"Halte!" Tomoe calls as she eyes Adrien's sabre hit Kagami. "Adrien," she simply says. The coach and her two main students had built a rythm, knowing that the point goes to the person who's name is said.
"En-garde. Pret. Allez!" the woman calls again.
This point goes to Adrien once more.
"Kagami! Up the game!" she calls sternly, her daughter responding with a firm, "Yes, madame."
She did in fact, up her game, for the next three points went to her.
"Well done! Right, take five, then we do two more rounds for the deciding," Madame Tsurugi announced, and off the two went off to hydrate.
"You have something after?" Kagami asked the blond boy, who chuckled unenthusiastically. "When do I not?" he sighed. "I got Mandarin classes."
"Do you ever, rest?"
"Do you?"
"Touché."
· · ─────── ·♥· ─────── · ·