The Bourgeois Hotel loomed in front of me as I entered the building. the faint scent of expensive perfume hitting me like a wall. The staff nodded politely as I made my way to the private elevator that led to Chloé's penthouse.
I pressed the button for the top floor, leaning against the wall as the elevator hummed to life. My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls—calm, collected, and just the right amount of disheveled to look effortless.
I was still working on my acting talents and I could tell the majority didn't notice, but I still had to worry about a select few like Lila but people tended to underestimate you when you looked like you didn't have a care in the world, even when they see you ruling over it.
The doors slid open, and I stepped into the penthouse. Chloé was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone with a scowl on her face. She was wearing an oversized hoodie that looked like it belonged to someone else probably Adr—wait is that mine. Her hair was all over the place outside of her usual ponytail, and she looked… off.
"Hey," I said, my voice light and casual. "You look like you've had a day."
She glanced up, her scowl deepening. "What are you doing here?"
I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Training? Remember? You agreed to this."
"I agreed to nothing," she snapped, though there was no real bite to her words.
I let a small smirk rise "Sure you did. You just didn't realize it at the time."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. That was the thing about Chloé—she liked to act like she was in control, but she was surprisingly easy to subtly influence her if you knew how to. And I did.
"Whatever," she muttered, tossing her phone aside. " Let's just get these ridiculous exercises over with."
"We'll do something like that," I said, crossing my arms. "But first, you might want to change. Unless you're planning on fighting in that."
She glanced down at her hoodie, her scowl returning. "I'm fine."
I tilted my head, studying her. "You sure about that? Because you seem like you're trying to hide something. What's going on?"
For a moment, I saw her involuntary surprise in her eyes at me noticing, then she sighed, slumping back against the couch. "My mother's coming to town this week. For Fashion Week."
Ah. That explained a lot. Audrey Bourgeois was a force of nature, and not in a good way. I'd heard enough about her to know that her presence was never a good thing for Chloé.
"And that's got you stressed?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.
She glared at me. "Of course it does. She's going to criticize everything, my clothes, my hair, my… everything. She always does."
"And now thanks these stupid exercises she'll comment on my hygeine as well." She said, half turning away.
I nodded, pretending to sympathize. "Sounds like she's got high standards."
"High standards?" Chloé scoffed. "She's impossible to please. B-but I, I have to try."
I walked my way towards the couch leaning against the armrest, my expression softening just enough to seem genuine. "Then why are you trying to please her?"
She blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," I said, "if she's never going to be happy with what you do, why are you letting her dictate how you feel about yourself?"
Chloé stared at me for a moment, then looked away. "It's not that simple."
"Maybe not," I agreed. "But you don't have to let her control you. You're your own person, Chloé. And you're stronger than you think."
She didn't respond right away, but her mind was turning. Good. I needed her to trust me, to believe that I was on her side.
Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But if she ruins Fashion Week for me, I'm blaming you."
I chuckled. "Deal. Now, are we going to train, or are you going to stand there all day?"
She rolled her eyes but got up from the couch. "Give me five minutes to change."
As she disappeared into her room, She was stubborn, competitive, and occasionally insufferable, but there was a part of her that genuinely wanted to improve. And if I could help her with that, even a little, it was worth it.
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When she came back, she was dressed in something more practical—a fitted tracksuit that looked like it cost more than the entire schools wardrobe. But at least she looked ready to move.
"Alright," she said, crossing her arms. "What's the plan today?"
I set my guitar aside and stood up. "Today, we're working on focus. You've got the moves, but you get distracted too easily. Especially when things don't go your way."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm a sore loser?"
"I'm saying you let your emotions get the better of you," I corrected. "And that's something we can work on."
Chloe sighed but didn't argue. For all her bluster, she knew I was right.
We spent the next hour going through drills—basic exercises to improve her balance and coordination. She complained the entire time, but I could tell she was putting in the effort. And when she finally nailed a particularly tricky move, the look of pride on her face told the world it was worth it.
"See?" I said, grinning. "You're better than you think."
She smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Of course I am. I'm Chloe Bourgeois."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Don't let it go to your head."
As we wrapped up, I could see the tension in her shoulders had eased. She still had a long way to go, but she was making progress. And that was enough for now.
"Thanks," she said quietly as I packed up my things.
Hmm I must be miss hearing, I looked up and was surprised at the Bourgeois now lowering her head in my direction. "For what?"
"For… this," she said, gesturing vaguely. "For not being weird about my mom. Or me."
I smiled, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "Anytime, Chloé. You're not as bad as you think you are."
She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of gratitude in her expression. "Don't push it, Couffaine."
As I left the penthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.
Things where going perfectly.
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Later That Evening...
Audrey Bourgeois.
I didn't know what that would mean for Chloe, but I knew one thing for sure: I'd be there to help her through it. Ladybug would be standing there holding my prize the item that would solidify our bond.
This was the moment where I'd be handed the bee miraculous on a silver platter and with nothing holding me back I'd finally have an alley fully in my grasp.
After all, that's what friends were for.