Marinette's POV
"Girl, this is so amazing! Holy damn, I can't wait to see you wear it!" It's been a few minutes since Alya first entered the room, and obsidian orbs the color of mahogany landed on the mannequin hiding away in the corner like a child afraid of being reprimanded.
It's a sweetheart neckline dress made of so many layers of chiffon, the torso a darker blue, with the skirt fading into a shade of dirty lavender. Swarovski decorates the entire dress, making it sparkle.
"Unfortunately, that's my dress," and at that, the Sepia-colored girl finally turns to her. She pushes herself up from leaning on her desk.
She digs through her closet her the large box with Alya's name. Every time there's an event, Alya would always turn to her. Marinette would never fail to surprise her.
This time around, it's a white long-sleeved dress with golden outlines of tiger lilies carefully embroidered and a high slit on the grey silk tulle skirt falling to her ankles.
Two days later, the small room called Marinette's bedroom bustles like they're holding the ball in there, doing each other's hair and makeup because they couldn't afford the professionals. They treat it like they're going to the Met Gala.
"Oh, Marinette. Give this to your date." Rose says with her cheery voice, giving her the boutonniere, which only makes her furrow her manicured eyebrows.
"I don't have a date."
"For god's sake, Marinette. Adrien Agreste!" Alya almost yells in annoyance while fixing her gown; she was never one to wear dresses.
"Girls, you're going to be late." With that, they carefully head down the steep staircase.
Just as she's about to grab her corsage, Alya gets to it first, giving it to Alix for, presumably, safekeeping.
"Okay, what was that for?"
"Your date has that covered." She patted her shoulder before heading downstairs.
She jumps up and down in frustration, realizing they definitely set her up.
Before she could join the others waiting in the cold for the bus, she see her mother holding her violin case. The woman gives it to her beloved daughter before kissing her child's forehead.
"Make sure to have fun."
Arriving at the location, only then does she realize Alya has the invitation.
Marinette hates coming in late. It attracts too much attention. Little does she know that's what Alya plans to do, so when those huge glamourous doors open to let her in, she sighs, looks at everyone, and enters like Cinderella.
She's never seen so many smiles just for her. Guests left and right let her through, and soon, she faces the boy she would love to be with for the rest of the night.
She feels like a nervous wreck as she pulls her closer. Somehow, all these fancy dresses and flashy lights make her feel so different, or maybe it's seeing the ash-gray suit, Patek Philippe watch, and gilded cufflinks he wears.
"You look amazing," he says, never breaking the eye contact they've created.
"I'd pay for you to say that to yourself," she returns, allowing him to twirl her.
"Father just wanted to make sure I have your full attention."
"Don't worry. You have my full attention. Just make sure to leave the smart-talking to me next time."
"Oh, I almost forgot." He chuckles before placing the corsage on her wrist.
"So, Alya did set me up?"
"Why? I thought you wanted to spend the entire night with me."
There's no tension when they only stare at each other's star-filled eyes.
"Do you want a drink?"
"No, let's dance. It's not like there's anything but punch."
For the first time in almost a decade, she feels okay.