On Point
Gabriel Designs Revealed
By Rena Rouge
Gabriel Agreste (50) has finally unleashed his design skills on the dance world full force as we were lucky enough to get a sneak peek at his up and coming costumes for the Christmas Gala, 'The Nutcracker'. Gabriel (his self named company), has thrown together a total of 36 outfits (14 roles and additional for the reserve) and we were able to preview those of 'The Nutcracker' and 'Clara', played by Luka Couffaine (21) and Zoé Lee (20), respectively, and all we can say is wow!
Agreste and his company have managed to bring to life the combination of classical costumes with an updated aesthetic for the more modern audience. The fine details Gabriel has added are dripping in wealth and luxury, making the ballet once again aimed to the upper class, and although we're sure young ballerinas everywhere will want to model themselves on this new version, we do worry expectations are being set too high.
But at the end of the day, the ballet world is to be adored, not copied. We're looking forward to seeing the remainder of the costumes on gala day.
*****
In the dimly lit studio, the haunting melody enveloped the dancers, urging them into a hypnotic dance of passion and precision. Each movement was a symphony of emotion, their bodies expressing a story that transcended words.
The air crackled with tension as they navigated the intricate choreography, a dance that mirrored the ebb and flow of the wild love affair. The studio suddenly became a canvas, painted with raw energy of every leap, twirl, and embrace. The music, a heartbeat echoing through the space, amplified the intensity, leaving an indelible impression of a dance etched in the soul of the studio – a Miraculous display for all to see.
Lifts gave way to gestures, gestures to solos, and solos to close embraces – each and every step building to the final climax.
The music faded to nothingness, a stunned silence taking over the studio as both began to catch their breath. Sweat. Exhaustion. Accomplishment. Perfection.
"There's only one thing wrong with it," Plagg said, walking over towards them as they slowly let go and drifted apart.
Adrien stood by her side, both of them waiting in anticipation of what their dance master would say. It seemed right, and it most certainly felt right. What more could there be?
Their rehearsal time over the past week had been split between Marinette training solo and the two of them working together. She had been disappointed once she'd heard about Gabriel's new orders for Adrien, then she channelled that anger into something else, something that would benefit them both — rehearsing.
The more she could rehearse, the more likely they could get one up on Gabriel Agreste, however, knowing how he could treat his own son gave her slight apprehension about what could come next. He was well and truly working his way up on her most hated list.
One thing she knew for certain though, was that they looked good... actually, better than good.
"Hit me with it," Adrien said. Marinette watched as he squinted, fear radiating over him, and his hard bravado disappearing from sight.
Plagg looked between the two of them, his face deadly serious and slightly terrifying. "The only thing wrong with it is... I didn't choreograph it."
The smile stretched across her face and threatened to split it in half, Adrien displaying the exact same emotion on his own lips. They'd done it! They'd actually done it! Covering her mouth and the squeal threatening to escape, she was grabbed around the waist and spun around in a circle. Adrien whooped and cheered in response. His hard work finally justified.
The door to the studio creaked as it opened, a smaller man hobbling in on a walking stick with a supporting hand coming from a tall, lanky male coated in green.
"Awww, father!" Plagg exclaimed, clapping his hands together and welcoming the newcomer into the studio. "Just in time! Did you see it?"
The smaller man continued to move forward until he was mere metres away from herself and Adrien. He stopped, placing both of his hands on his cane, looking over at them both with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I apologise," he started, "I missed the beginning. Would you be so kind to start again?"
Marinette felt exhaustion mixed with adrenaline. Could they do it again? With the buzz she was feeling she thought she could take over the world, even if every muscle in her body was screaming at her to stop.
"Um —" Adrien's uncertain hum had her head swivelling to face him.
"Sorry, it's so rude of me not to introduce myself." The older man stepped forward with the aid of the tall guy and bowed his head. "The name's Master Fu and I am the Guardian of the Miraculous Studios."
"And I am Wayzz, I look after Master Fu, as you can see he isn't as nimble as he used to be." The tall man offered his hand out to Adrien, who tentatively took it into a shake.
"It's nice to meet you," Adrien said as Wayzz moved his hand to Marinette.
"Fu is my adoptive father." Plagg looked to Marinette in ways of explanation. It seemed Adrien knew of, but had never met him, whereas Marinette was completely in the dark.
"It's nice to meet you," Marinette echoed Adrien's words, taking Wayzz's hand before offering her own out to Fu. The older man didn't move. Just stood stock still with his hands resting on the top of his cane.
"So, can you perform it again?" he asked. Marinette and Adrien shared a nod before walking back into the centre of the studio.
Plagg moved to the stereo, turning the music on and giving them a reassuring nod.
Performing in front of Master Fu was different. With Tikki and Plagg you knew the encouragement was going to be there, the support and constructive feedback. When Gabriel watched, you knew it was going to be negative... then you had this. Master Fu watched them intently, but not once did she feel uncomfortable. The way he studied them, every now and then a twitch pulling the corners of his lips, it was as though he knew they were good and just wanted reassurance, his facial expressions pushing her on and on to give it everything she had. For him to enjoy the show currently taking place.
As they finished the routine for the second time, they stood, breathing heavily, waiting for Fu's feedback. He remained silent, her hand sliding down Adrien's arm and fingers linking together. She didn't care that his hand was damp with sweat, all that mattered was that as they waited for this man's evaluation, they stood together.
"Excellent choice," Wayzz said, his eyes remaining on Adrien and Marinette, his face emotionless as he spoke.
"They're made for each other." Without another word, Fu bowed his head to the couple and headed out of the studio, Wayzz following along behind him.
"Well, that was strange." Plagg headed after them and closed the door.
"Hummm.." Tikki muttered, her hand circling around her belly as the other supported her back. She suddenly hissed, Plagg running to her side and taking over the rubbing.
"Are you okay?" Marinette and Adrien moved forward too, Tikki hissing once again, before she started to growl.
"Yeah, yeah. It's just... oooohhh!" She almost doubled over. "This is different!" Tikki looked at her husband and Marinette felt the emotions run through him... panic, excitement... fear.
"I think we should get you to the hospital." He reached into his back pocket, rummaging around before pulling out a set of keys and sending them sailing in Adrien's direction. "Lock up on your way out."
Not speaking another word, Plagg walked out with Tikki in his arms, grabbing her coat and placing it over her shoulders as she continued to howl in pain, over and over again. Marinette was almost certain there could be a new life entering the world sooner rather than later. A tiny little miracle to two of the most wonderful people she'd ever met.
"Keep me informed," Adrien called to them.
Plagg gave them both a quick wave goodbye before disappearing into the night, his wife firmly held in his arms.
"I don't know whether to feel excited for them, or terrified," Adrien suddenly said, heading to his bag and grabbing his drink bottle.
Marinette couldn't help giggling. "I'm quite sure that's how Plagg feels too."
"He's going to be an amazing father."
"Yeah," she agreed. "He really will."
Grabbing her own bottle she headed over to Adrien, stopping just in front of him and smiling up. It hadn't been awkward since their first kisses, but apart from a quick kiss hello and a rather heated goodnight, they hadn't really progressed in the relationship. It had been 4 days and they hadn't been out on a date, or spent any time together out of the studio, and although they were rehearsing for a considerable amount of hours, and texting when apart, Marinette couldn't stop the anticipation and butterflies every time she was near him.
"So, I was wondering, if you're not busy, would you maybe like to go out tonight? Just the two of us." It was as though Adrien was reading her mind and she couldn't help but smile.
"Are you asking me on a date, Monsieur Agreste?" she sassed, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in question.
Adrien chuckled. "That depends on your answer."
"How about, I'd love to?" she answered. Adrien smiling and setting his deep dimples into motion again. She looked between them, noticing the one on the right was a little deeper than the one on the left.
"Cool!" And the way his face almost tore itself apart, she knew cool was a mere inch of how he was feeling. "Shall I come and pick you up in about 2 hours? I've got Rosita coming in with her mum to talk through how it'll work next year and her sponsorship, but then I'll be free."
"Sure, that way I can shower and get changed. I suppose I should make an effort for our first date."
Adrien stepped forward and placed his hands on her hips. Her heart zoomed around her chest like a deflated balloon as she settled into the proximity and the tenderness of his touch. He bent lower and pressed a small kiss to the corner of her lips. "Dress warm, we're staying out for a bit tonight."
"No stilettos then?" Marinette joked, Adrien chuckling in response.
"If people see me walking around with Bambi on ice, I'm quite sure some people will be making stories up about us?"
"Let them talk," Marinette said, taking hold of the back of his neck and pulling him down so his lips met hers. She could never get enough of him, and she never wanted to.
Adrien was like a sweet elixir. He made her feel euphoric, and it seemed he was becoming her addiction. As everyone knew, cravings became intense and a vital part of the day. Adrien's lips, his taste being her own.
She stepped out of the studio and began to count the seconds until she could kiss him again. She was in heaven. An 'Adrien' filled heaven where all the angels had golden hair, a sturdy body and perfect dimples she could stick her finger in, and she remained in that heaven right up until the moment she was standing in her room with Alya crying in the corner.
Hidden under the faint glow of a desk lamp, the solitary figure of her best friend was huddled in the corner, surrounded by a sea of discarded costumes. Silent tears traced a path down her cheeks, and the weight of the world seemed to be resting heavily on her shoulders. Defeat lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant spirit that now sought solace amidst the fabric of forgotten dreams.
As Marinette continued to study the scene, she noticed the fabric scrunched in her friend's hands. The obvious signs of a tutu being disfigured. Slowly, Alya lifted her head to meet Marinette, her face grey and sullen, how had she not seen her friend spiralling? Had she been that caught up in her own life to forget to check in with her friend?
Similar to approaching a stray animal, Marinette moved forward and cautiously sat down.
"Alya?"
The girl sniffed again. She was shaking and Marinette was terrified. Reaching for her phone, she asked it to call Adrien, her eyes never leaving Alya.
'Hey, are you okay?' Just hearing his voice gave her strength and hopefully enough of it to help her friend through this. Her eyes were dim and sunken, an obvious sign of what she'd been doing.
"No, I'm not. I need you to help me with something, please?"
*****
As soon as he'd finished with Rosita and her mum, Adrien bolted out the studio door only stopping briefly to lock the place up. As he moved down the icy streets of Paris, he was careful to keep his footing, knowing full well a broken leg right at this moment would not be beneficial for anyone.
Grabbing the phone from his pocket, he apologised to a couple of shoppers roaming the streets as he clipped their bags and ricocheted off their shoulders. He fired off a quick text to Plagg asking for news on Tikki, before grabbing a lamppost and swinging himself around the corner praying Google Maps was being highly accurate that evening.
He found Marinette's text and double checked the address he was currently searching for. It should be around here somewhere.
Slowing down, his chest trying its hardest to do the same, he looked at the numbers on the buildings. Almost there.
Finally, he reached his destination, walking to a door and finding the intercom. Pressing it down firmly, one... twice... three times before standing there waiting.
When he'd received the call from Marinette his first thought was that she'd come to her senses and was ready to let him down gently – to end things before they even began. What he hadn't expected was the call to be one for help, and his heart swelled that in the time of crisis she chose to call him.
A crackle sounded from the speaker before Nino's tell-tale tones floated out into the air and put one of the knots in his stomach at ease.
"Nino? It's Adrien. I - um - Alya needs you."
It took precisely 30 seconds for the devoted boyfriend to be out the door and beside him on the street, hopping on one foot as he attempted to place a shoe on the other. Adrien moved forward, supporting his arm before he went tumbling into the snow. He pulled his arms through his coat in a rush, missing twice before finally inserting it in.
"Where is she?"
They reached the dorms in record time, Nino moving like a defensive warrior. The love between these two was strong and powerful, and Adrien couldn't help thinking he'd do exactly the same for Marinette — maybe with the added homicide of his father.
"It's my fault!" Nino muttered as they stood, impatiently, waiting for the elevator. "Since seeing you and Luka, I've been going on and on about diets and going to the gym. I'm so insensitive! I didn't even know, Adrien. I didn't! I swear!"
"There's only one person to blame," Adrien said. "And that's my father."
"Well, I can't deny that."
The elevator doors opened and the two stepped in, Adrien suddenly realising he hadn't showered since his rehearsal that afternoon. Trying not to be too obvious, he bent his head down towards his armpit and gave it a little sniff. Not too bad. Maybe he could sneak into the bathroom and quickly give his armpits a little wash with soap.
"She's spoken to you about it, hasn't she? She said you've been trying to help her, I should have asked about what!"
Adrien nodded. Obviously he hadn't helped enough though.
"Does anyone else know?" Nino asked. Adrien shook his head. He was certain Marinette didn't know, well, maybe she did now, but he was sure if other people knew, it would have been circulating around the studio. Lila would probably be using it to her own advantage and digging the knife in deeper.
"Good!" Nino sighed and leaned back against the wall.
"She'll be okay," Adrien promised, and he was determined to make sure that she was. His father had always teetered close to the line of morality, but this time he had well and truly crossed it. Nothing would surprise him anymore. No action his father took would shock him, instead the anger burned inside him and every new attack was a pure dose of oxygen being absorbed by the flames.
The elevator sounded their arrival and the two made their way to the apartment.
"Marinette's left the door open for us." Adrien stepped forward and gave it a push, allowing Nino to enter first. One by one they made it down the dark corridor to Marinette and Alya's shared room.
Adrien's eyes widened in shock at the scene unfolding before him. Alya, usually composed and lively, clutched a delicate tutu tightly in her grasp. Marinette, with a concerned expression, gently tried to comfort her sobbing friend, creating an unexpected tableau of emotions in the room.
Nino hurriedly approached, and Marinette gracefully stepped aside, making way for him to take her position beside Alya. The silent exchange of roles spoke volumes, as friends rallied together in the face of emotional turmoil.
Marinette moved to stand beside him, both watching as Alya let her strangling grip on the tutu relax and instead move to Nino.
"What's happened?" Adrien asked.
"Your father," Marinette hissed. He felt the bite from the words as if they were aimed directly at him. "He gave out the costumes today..."
She didn't need to say anything more. It was obvious what his father had done, he'd pulled the same stunt numerous times in the past. Why the hell had Adrien allowed this to happen? Why had he succumbed to his father's wants and needs? He'd seen this happen before and allowed it to happen. To laugh along with the others as a girl once again struggled to fit his father's 'vision'. He was weak, hiding in the crowds rather than making himself stand out. The more he thought about what he'd been like in the past, the more disgusted in himself he grew.
Using this asshole wall had become the worst kind of defence mechanism he could have had. When his mother went into hospital and away for treatments and he was only 14 years old, becoming someone with an air of arrogance had been the only way to pull through it. Worst of all, he was being rewarded by it too. Not rewarded — manipulated. The groomed responses to his behaviour were to congratulate him on being a dick, firstly by his own mentor then by Lila.
Plagg must have really seen something inside him to stick by his side for this long, most would have given up and written him off. But Plagg hadn't and thank goodness for that. Now it was his turn. His turn to not give up on Alya, to be there and help try to fix this.
Adrien moved forward, grabbing the tutu and holding it up in front of him, knowing exactly what was going to be wrong with it.
"Put it on," Adrien said, throwing it over to Marinette.
"What? Why?"
"Because I know my father's sick and twisted games. Now, please, try and put it on."
She stared at him for a second and he prayed that, once again, she would trust him. He knew what he was doing, he just really needed her to attempt to put it on.
Nodding timidly, Marinette began to take off her sweats, leaving her in just her training leotard. She stepped into the tutu and attempted to pull it up – attempted being the keyword.
"He's done it again! I can't believe him." Adrien felt like heading straight to the studio and punching his father square in the face. He couldn't care less if there was a prison sentence attached to it, the gratification would outdo having to wear prison orange for the next few months.
Marinette wiggled around a little more, attempting to pull the leotard and tutu combo up and over her shoulders. Not a chance that was going any further.
Slipping it down her legs and off, Marinette held the leotard out in front of her. It was apparent the size of it was for a child, not a grown woman — regardless of how small some dancers were.
"It's a 3a," Marinette said, studying the label. "Alya is a 4."
"What?" Adrien unintentionally snatched the leotard from Marinette's hands and studied the label. Another dose of petrol being thrown on his roaring fire.
"Even I can't fit into that," Marinette said. She didn't mean it insensitively or as anything more than fact. She was one of the smallest at the school, by height and size.
"What's a 3a?" Nino asked, Alya still settled in his arms.
"For 11-13 year olds," Marinette responded, her fingers trailing over the material as she continued twisting it in her hands.
Adrien studied the outfit again before setting his eyes on Alya. "What did Gabriel say to her?"
"That if she didn't fit in it by the dress rehearsal, she's out."
Adrien's head twisted to Marinette, his mouth gaping open as no words would formulate. He garbled randomly a couple of times before managing to splutter, "That's in two days!"
"Dude, I like you. I do! But your father is an absolute bastard!"
"I don't disagree," Adrien muttered. He was so tempted to go down there right now and lay down so home truths to his father, maybe even walk out of performing in the gala, but it wasn't about just him anymore, he had to consider Marinette and what repercussions it might have on her. She'd been working as hard as he had and it was a joint effort. He would never do that to her.
Marinette continued to examine the garment, a sudden quizzical look taking over her face. She turned it around and around in her hands, upside down and side to side, giving it a tug and checking the seams. Her eyes brightened and from the look on her face, he knew she had a plan.
"What if I alter this? The way your father's designed the panelling, it'll be easy to take a couple out and extend them to Alya's size."
"How soon could you do it?" Nino asked, stroking a hand gently through Alya's hair.
As though looking for support, Marinette's wide blue eyes looked to Adrien. One side of his lips lifting and encouraging both sides of her own to do the same.
"If I can get the material? Tonight."