Mr Unknown (9:27am): Was it red or black liquorice?
Marinette was back in the boardroom – mortified, embarrassed and quite sure she'd just made a humongous ass out of herself. Could this day actually get any worse? Not only had she mistaken Adrien for Felix this morning, but now she was being interviewed by the same guy! It seemed 'A Designs' actually stood for Agreste Designs — Gabriel's new brand in conjunction with his son.
Thank god the interviews were group interviews or she may have died from humiliation. After falling into her chair and having to contend with Adrien literally bursting out laughing, the other three hopefuls came into the interview room too. Why they couldn't have all entered together was beyond her? Perhaps Adrien had asked for Marinette to come in first and make a complete tit out of herself before others joined too; giving him the laugh he craved and making sure she didn't go any further in this process.
One thing was for certain though, there was zero shock on his face from her arrival. He knew she was going to be there, only adding to the chagrin from this morning – even more so when Adrien questioned the hopefuls on their professional conduct and desire to play 'practical jokes'; his eyes firmly set on hers. Asshole.
To Mr Unknown: Would you like to expand on this?
She sat down at the large conference desk and buried her head in her arms against the table top. To be fair, it hadn't gone badly, but with Adrien's presence and snide remarks she had stumbled on a couple of questions which should have been child's play to her. She had tried to keep her eyes on the senior leader at the table, giving Gabriel Agreste all she could in hopes he would see her as an asset to the brand and not just 'the girl that fell into her chair'. Lifting her head from the table, she quickly grabbed her phone and dropped a message to Mr Unknown. She needed to speak to someone unbiased. Luckily, he was right there waiting.
Mr Unknown (10:53am): Everyone knows red is superior.
To Mr Unknown: Red is fake liquorice, any true sweet lover knows it's all about the black. It just has that special thing.
Mr Unknown (10:56am): Are we still on about sweets or your preference for when it comes to the colour of your underwear? 🧐
To Mr Unknown: Wouldn't you like to know? 😉
Mr Unknown (10:57am): That's exactly why I asked!
Her heart skipped a beat as bubbles appeared informing her he was typing again. Marinette wasn't sure she could handle this... she needed to divert the conversation and fast. She didn't flirt... she didn't know how too; even hiding behind her phone.
To Mr Unknown: Actually, can I ask you a question?
The bubbles stopped and disappeared, and she guessed he was either deleting the message or copy and pasting it to send to her later. The bubbles suddenly started up again and Marinette messed with the end of her ponytail, wrapping it around her finger in a nervous disposition.
Mr Unknown (11:01am): Sure. Just be careful you don't go too personal. Anonymity remember. Oh, and FYI my liquorice underwear is a twisted red and black combo.
An uncontrolled snort left her nose, the other interviewees once again staring over at her.
I bet they never thought they'd be interviewing with Miss Piggy, she thought, turning her attention back to the phone once again.
To Mr Unknown: Oooo, sexy! I bet all the girls love a combo! And staying anonymous, are we? Why's that? Are you a catfish?
Mr Unknown (11:03am): I'm as real as they get, Babe.
To Mr Unknown: Babe?
Mr Unknown (11:04am): What? Not a babe kind of girl?
To Mr Unknown: How do you know I'm a girl? Have you not watched my fake fiancée?
Marinette wasn't entirely sure what it was about Mr Unknown, but there was something oddly comforting about messaging him. It relaxed her in a way she hadn't in years, the conversation free flowing and without expectations. It was oddly satisfying. Unsure whether it was the fact she was hiding behind the phone, or that she had no idea who this guy was, something just felt... good.
As her phone vibrated against the table in front of her, an excitement shot over Marinette in search of the latest reply.
Mr Unknown (11:07am): So you're a dude and you're my fiancé? Cool!
She began to snicker as she messaged back, a sound she was sure Muttley would be proud of.
To Mr Unknown: I'll sort the cake 😉 By the way, I'd gladly swap the babe for a sweetheart. It's cuter, don't you think?
Nathalie walked into the room, ceasing Marinette's text-a-thon and causing her to place her phone down, turning her full attention to the front and her pending fate.
"As you all know, we are only taking 6 applicants through to the design stage. So, I am truly sorry to those who haven't made it. Your character just doesn't fit in with our brand."
Marinette winced, a personal knock down...great – which 100% meant she was going home. She was not someone Adrien ever wanted to spend time with – their lack of communication over the years of 'knowing' each other was a determining factor to her possibility of getting this job.
Dropping her phone into her bag, she began to gather her things together ready to leave. She still had a couple of days before her train to return home was scheduled so if she spoke to Kagami and Félix, maybe they could give her a few pointers of where to go. She heard Madame Tussauds was an interesting day out, or maybe she could visit The London Eye.
"... and Marinette Dupain-Cheng."
As her name was called out, Marinette caused a ruckus in the room. Her knee collided hard with the underside of the table and sent the glass of water belonging to the person next to her on a journey to escape. She'd made it through to the next round. Whether it was through her skills or Adrien's want to see her make a complete arse out of herself; she didn't care. She was going to present her design to Gabriel Agreste – a dream come true.
Diving forward, Marinette attempted to stop the water from soaking everything in its path; however, using her hands to flick the water back to the middle of the table and mutter curse words under her breath probably wasn't the best way to go about the situation. As Miss Botox came back in with paper towels, Marinette apologised before slumping back in her seat.
Reaching forward, she took her phone from the table and pulled up Kagami's number.
To Kagami: We will be talking when I get back later.
Marinette apologised once more and watched as many other designers left the room; herself and only 5 others remaining. She couldn't help but let out an excited wiggle in her seat. They all thought she was mental anyway so why not give them a little more to cling on to.
"Now, it's down to just you 6. I hope your designs are ready to be broadcast to the panel. You will be marked on creativity, fit and style. We will now lead you to the changing area for you to meet your model and dress then ready for the next round. Please gather your belongings and follow me."
Nathalie waited for them all to grab their bags and began to lead them down a corridor lined with doors on each side. A quick glance at her phone saw a new message from Mr Unknown.
Mr Unknown (11:18am): If I'm calling you sweetie, what nickname do I get?
The group slowed down to a stop outside a room and Marinette quickly fired off a message.
To Mr Unknown: Sorry, Mr Unknown. Gotta go.
Pocketing her phone, she focused on what was in front of her and the fact she was about to meet her model. Her head needed to firmly be in the moment, not discussing nicknames with a possible catfish.
Opening the door, Nathalie led them into the room, the area sectioned off into numerous dressing rooms; each with their own hair and makeup station and stylist. One by one they were sent forward, the model and designer greeting each other in an excited hug – similar to what she had seen before on Project Runway.
There were two of them left. Herself and a guy called Greg.
Stopping at the next station, Marinette looked at the handsome model leaning against the workstation, phone in hand and a smile on his face. He was attractive, and the hazel eyes and dark brown hair would make her outfit pop. Suddenly she was very excited about what she had designed, knowing full well this guy would make it look even better.
"Mark, these are two of our final applicants."
"Hello." Mark's accent was very British, and similar to the dodgy show Félix had made her watch a couple of times. What was it called? Westenders?
Marinette smiled and waved awkwardly, Greg greeting the model a whole lot more confidently... as if he already knew him.
"Greg, I know you have already met with Mark for a fitting this morning so you will be presenting first."
Oh, great! Marinette thought. Her perfect model wasn't hers and looking around the room there was no one left. Perhaps this was a cruel joke?
Marinette watched as the two fell into natural conversation, Mark already fawning over Greg's design and grabbing the clothing bag from him with a squeal. She sighed and turned back to Nathalie who seemed to be studying her for some reason.
"Follow me," she eventually said, leading Marinette out of a doorway and into another corridor.
Walking silently behind, she wondered where Nathalie was taking her. Was she just going to throw her out of the building? Or had Adrien actually set her up? Was this pay back for attacking him this morning? Some sort of strange revenge? She knew Adrien was one for practical jokes, he'd played enough of them on her during collége, but would he actually go this far?
"Now, I know you haven't had as much preparation time as the others considering you were in the last group of interviewees, and for that reason you'll be last to present, along with your model being one of our best."
Marinette nodded, even though Nathalie couldn't see her, and continued following behind like a young penguin.
"He's in a separate room as privacy is part of his contract. There will be a bodyguard outside of his doorway at all times and a makeup and hair stylist will be along shortly to perfect his look. He's not to do anything by himself – we have the staff employed to do it for him."
Wow! Great! She was working with the company's stuck up snob! A clear indication that whoever this dude was, was going to be a massive jackass. Shit!
"Sure," Marinette said, faking a smile.
They continued to move down the corridor, Marinette wondering how far they were going into this building. Pulling out her phone she quickly dropped out one more message.
To Mr Unknown: If you hear about a girl that was thrown out of a window on the 12th floor of a building, that girl is me and I would like you to pass on this message to my Papa: As much as I enjoy his chocolate macaroons, the Moreau family makes them slightly better and all through collége I sneakily swapped the ones he gave me for ones from the Moreau's Boulangerie.
Slipping her phone back into her pocket, she almost crashed into the back of Nathalie as the woman stopped abruptly outside of a door.
"You have 30 minutes to get ready and someone will come and escort you down to the interview room when it's your time." She turned the handle and pushed the door open leaving Marinette standing in the threshold.
No! It couldn't be.
From behind he looked exactly like her best friend's husband, but she wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She cleared her throat and stood tall; an attempt was exerting confidence.
"Good to see you again, Agreste."