Adrien stared at his paper. Blank. His pencil still rested in his hand and tapping the table. He looked at his other papers. All complete. Science was always his forte, but when it came to literature and English, his trouble began. The black boards at school was clear and obvious, but the question was as ambiguous as everything else in philosophy. The beginning of school and they already have assignments.
"What's so hard?" the kwami asked as he swallowed more cheese. "It's asking you to write about yourself."
"But . . . What have I accomplished? Am I happy with myself? Where will I be in five years? How am I supposed to know this?" Adrien shot back.
"Really?" The cat of mischief's eye widened. "You're a model. You're rich. You'll still be aa rich hot model. What more is there?"
Adrien hung his head and dug his fingers into his head. He could feel blood hammer in his skull as he tried to let out a huff. "It's not what I did. My dad made me a model. He got rich. He's still going to be rich with a son who models all his lines. That isn't me."
Plagg shrugged. "Then what did you do that you're proud of?"
"Choose to be Chat Noir," he said automatically.
Plagg glared. "Hey."
"I know," he sighed. "Can't tell anyone." With a groan his hand were tugging at his hair again. "Ugh. That's the thing, don't you see. Everything I think of is wrong."
The kwami frowned. "It's a paragraph about yourself, just write what you feel. It's your first assignment— so it won't really matter."
"But I can't write anything!"
"Yes, you can."
"If I did that, I'd write how lonely and confused I am right now! It's just be how sad I am when I walk to school with a smile. Then they'd think there's something wrong, and they'd start asking questions I don't know answers to, and it'd just be a huge pain in the ass."
Plagg float in face. "Then just write what you wanna be."
Adrien scoffed. "Like how I wanna be an astronaut?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yeah!"
Adrien gave a dull frown as he waved the fairy off. "That's just stupid."
"Why?"
"Because it's not like I can just be what I want. My father would just find a way to just drag me back here." The boy picked up his pencil and stared at the blank paper. However his tapping was more vehement and his eyes were burning holes into it. The stare only lasted for a few seconds until the boy stabbed the pencil into the desk and threw it aside so he could bury his head. His hand wandered passed and rubbed his aching neck.
Plagg sighed. "Well, you gotta find something you're passionate about."
"I'm passionate about saving people, but we ruled out Chat Noir."
"Anything else?"
"Math, science."
"Then what about that?"
"And have people question why a model is interested in the physics of time relativity and electromagnetic circuitry?"
"What was that?"
"Exactly, it stupid."
"And who told you that?"
Adrien turned away and curled his hands around his neck. "My father said that I don't need to look towards that field. He told me to grow up and look towards more probable futures."
Plagg hissed. "What is it with you human? Why do you always think you have to figure out your life when you don't bother to remember your own dreams in the first place? It's a stupid thing you all do. Geez, it's like you all end up rotting away."
Adrien frowned. "It's called growing up."
"Well then . . . explain to me how growing up work, because it sure as hell doesn't look like to be doing you any good. You're just killing yourself over wanting to know how to do it right."