Chapter Text
Stone cold, stone cold
You see me standing, but I’m dying on the floor
Stone cold, stone cold
Maybe if I don’t cry, I won’t feel anymore
Marinette took a long sip of her drink, barely tasting the bitter pinch of alcohol in it. Beside her, Alya kept rambling about the akuma fight from the previous day, her hands gesturing animatedly, without noticing that her best friend wasn’t listening.
Marinette could understand the interest. After all, it had been quite a battle and Vortexa’s powers had been terrifying. She’d been able to control shadows, slipping through them however she pleased. Chat Noir and Ladybug had spent hours chasing her across Paris, exhausting themselves as they tried to stop her. In the end, they’d won by sheer luck. A fact that, truthfully, didn’t suit well with Marinette. She should’ve been sharper. Faster. Smarter. But her head hadn’t been in the game.
“And maybe if you’d… You’re not listening to me, are you?”
“Sorry?” Marinette blinked, dragging her gaze away from her phone, where she had been obsessively watching the clock, her heart heavier with every passing minute. She forced a smile, her eyes unfocused as she stared right ahead. “Of course I am. Your idea sounds good. I’ll try that next time.”
“Mari,” Alya sighed, giving her that knowing look. “C’mon, girl. Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not!” Marinette lied again, forcing her eyes to meet her best friend’s.
Alya studied her in silence for a beat, pity softening her expression. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”
“Yeah, I do,” she sighed, closing her fingers a little tighter against her glass.
Alya rolled her eyes. “Why are you so set on torturing yourself?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Marinette muttered through clenched teeth before taking another sip, the alcohol perfectly burning as it slid down.
“It sure looks like it.”
“It would’ve been impolite not to come. Anyway, no one would’ve believed my excuse.”
“But everyone would’ve understood!” Alya whispered urgently.
“It would’ve been awkward,” Marinette shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Anyone else would’ve believed her. She lied to everyone all the time. She was used to it. Good at it, even. Anyone would’ve believed the act she was putting on. That she was fine, that she definitely was not feeling like she was dying, like her soul was shattered, her heart ripped away. But Alya was different. She knew too much, and too little at the same time. It was both a mercy and Marinette’s worst curse.
“You don’t think it’s already awkward, Mari? Everyone knows what’s gonna happen tonight. You really wanna see this?”
“I’m happy for him. We agreed to be friends.”
Alya simply hummed, a clear look of skepticism in her eyes.
“I am!” Marinette insisted, her voice smaller than she wanted it to be. Still, she didn’t let herself glance toward the dance floor, where she knew Adrien was dancing with Camille.
You’re dancing with her, while I’m staring at my phone
Stone cold, stone cold
I was your amber, but now she’s your shade of gold.
“Mari…” Alya began softly, but then the music shifted. A slower song filled the air, the lights dimming to match, and Marinette’s throat closed up.
Alya immediately reached for her hand, clasping it tight. Their eyes met, and Marinette whispered, shaking, “I can do this.”
Without thinking, she immediately drank down the rest of her glass before settling it on the table next to them. She turned back toward Alya and tried to put on her Ladybug’s smile. The one she used when things were bad, but she didn’t want the citizens of Paris to know. The one that said she was in control, powerful and confident. The one everyone believed in.
Well, everyone except Alya and Chat Noir.
Alya searched her face for a second, looking for something in her best friend’s gaze, but eventually sighed and gave a small nod. Tugging gently at Marinette’s hand, she led them toward the dance floor, where the rest of their friends now stood, smiling.
With every step, Marinette felt her chest tighten. She tried to ignore the unsure smiles thrown her way, or the pity in her friend’s eyes. She fixed her gaze straight ahead, locking onto Adrien.
He was already kneeling before Camille. His lips moved, forming words Marinette couldn’t hear over the sound of her own heart pounding painfully in her ears. The crowd reacted. Soft gasps, delighted smiles, and tears being wiped away. Adrien’s speech must have been moving. He always had a way with words. Camille probably agreed if the tears streaming down her face were any indication. The girl then nodded, probably screamed out a yes, and flung her arms around Adrien’s neck as he stood up, smiling.
The sound came crushing back all at once, and Marinette almost staggered from the shock. Around her, everyone cheered and clapped as the happy couple kissed. She looked down and realized that she was clenching Alya’s hand in hers as though her life depended on it.
Maybe it did, somehow.
She forced herself to let go of her best friend and clapped, blinking a couple of times to clear her vision and forcing a smile on her face. To be fair, it probably looked like a grimace, but she really did try her best.
“You’re Ladybug,” she reminded herself. “You’re stronger than this. You can do this.”
“You’re crying,” Alya whispered in her ear.
Was she? She hadn’t noticed.
“Everyone’s crying,” Marinette deflected, swiping at her eyes too quickly.
“Adrien is not everyone’s ex-boyfriend.”
“I’m fine,” she lied once more. “I’m happy for him. Truly, I am,” she insisted when she saw Alya’s doubtful face, but at least that part was true… sort of. “He deserves so much love and happiness. If she’s the one who can give it to him, then so be it.”
“You could’ve been.”
The words cut deep. Marinette swallowed a sob and whispered, “No. I couldn’t.”
Before Alya could respond, Camille appeared, her face flushed and glowing, tears streaming as she beamed.
“Alya! Have you seen this?” She thrust out her hand, flashing the diamond ring that glittered beneath the lights. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”
It sure was. A large, solitaire diamond set in silver, bold and eye-catching. It was impressive, sure. Impossible to miss, even. But to Marinette, it looked incredibly impersonal. It said nothing about who they were, or what their love meant to them. It was obviously very expensive, but also stereotypical and somehow… empty. It seemed more about money than love. It was surprising, coming from Adrien.
But hey, maybe she was a bit biased after all. And at least, it wasn’t Emilie’s ring, the one Adrien had been keeping safe. It had been in his family for generations and was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing Marinette had ever seen. She would’ve broken down completely if she’d seen it on Camille’s finger.
Alya chuckled awkwardly, her eyes flicking toward Marinette. “Yeah. Nino was the one hiding it until tonight.”
“Ahhh, of course,” Camille said brightly, oblivious to the discomfort. She turned her shining gaze on Marinette. “And thank you so much for being here. I know it meant a lot to Adrien.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
She could’ve sworn she heard Alya snort, but when she looked her way, her best friend’s face gave nothing away.
“Still, thank you,” Camille said, her eyes returning to her ring. “It’s so huge, isn’t it? It must’ve cost a fortune. Anyway, I gotta go see my parents. See you later, girls!”
And she swept away without waiting for an answer.
Marinette followed her with her gaze. She could understand the appeal, even though she tried to ignore it. Camille was gorgeous. Tall, flawless, with auburn curls framing deep brown eyes and perfect, symmetric features. A model, of course.
She was everything Marinette was not.
But that was exactly it. They were completely opposite. Not only in look, but also in personality. Camille disliked both video games and the heroes of Paris—” They should’ve won eons ago! How hard can it be?”. She came from a family of eleven kids and had happily resigned herself to being “the fun aunt” rather than ever having children of her own. There was nothing wrong with any of this—well, maybe except with the heroes thing. Marinette was still bitter about that one—but it didn’t make any sense! Adrien loved video games and dreamed of being a father. How could this work? Maybe opposites really did attract…
Oh, who was she kidding? Marinette was definitely trying to find flaws where there were none. Adrien had probably changed—she tried and failed to shut up the voice in her mind that claimed it was her fault. Maybe Camille was perfect in ways Marinette could never be. Even though, in her heart, no one would ever make sense for Adrien the way she did.
But she had her chance, and she had destroyed them.
Nothing she could do about it now, besides living with the consequences. Maybe she could never heal her broken heart, but if Adrien had a chance at happiness, then… good. Perfect. He deserved it. Truly, he did.
Still, sometimes, she wondered how. How could he move on and be happy after them?
God knows I try to feel
Happy for you
Know that I am, even if I
Can’t understand, I’ll take the pain
Give me the truth, me and my heart
We’ll make it through
“Hey, sunshine,” Alya greeted, pulling Marinette out of her thoughts and almost giving her a heart attack.
Oh God, no.
“Hey, Alya. Marinette.”
Fuck, his voice. It sent shivers down her spine.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly forced herself to meet his gaze. And suddenly, nothing else existed. Not Nino at his side, or the soft, pitiful smile he gave her. Not the crowd around them. How was it even possible that the older he got, the more handsome he became? There was just him. Just Adrien, and the way his green eyes were fixed on her, as though trying to read through her.
But she couldn’t let him see what was going on in her mind. Couldn’t let him understand. So, instead, she took every single tiny bit of courage she had left in her and put on her Ladybug’s smile.
“Hi,” she said, hearing in her voice the fake, confident persona she had created years ago.
“Yes, that’s it,” she thought. “You’re Ladybug. You don’t know heartbreak. You’re the strongest woman in Paris.”
“Thank you both for coming,” Adrien said after a pause, his eyes still fixed on her. “It means a lot.”
“Of course,” Alya answered for them both. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. We’re so happy for you.”
At that, Nino looked at his fiancé with a look that seemed to say, “Don’t push it.”
Adrien thanked her, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh, where’s Luka? I thought I would’ve seen him tonight.”
“He couldn’t come,” Marinette said, hating how her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “You’re Ladybug!” she reminded herself before trying again, “He’s meeting with a little girl from Make-a-Wish.”
“Yes, that’s it. You can do it.”
“Oh, great.”
“Camille’s parents are waving at you, dude,” Nino cut in.
“Right.” Adrien shifted, but his eyes lingered one moment longer on Marinette, unreadable. “Well, I guess I should go. Thanks again, girls. You have no idea how good it is for you both to be here.”
His gaze clung to hers and Marinette swallowed as she kept on smiling. Why was he looking at her like that? Was he trying to say that he meant it? Was he really this happy that they could be friends again? Maybe that was it. Maybe he genuinely thought that this was the best outcome for them. If so, she truly had done the right thing for him.
Even if it killed her.
Don’t wanna be stone cold, stone
I wish I could mean this, but here’s my goodbye
“We’re happy for you,” she answered, echoing Alya’s previous words.
It seemed like, for a second, Adrien wanted to say something else, but Nino broke the moment when he claimed, “We’re gonna head home anyway, I think. Marinette, want a lift?”
“Yes!” she blurted, far too quickly, her voice loud enough to make her wince. Her cheeks heated as she tried again. “I mean, yes, please. That would be nice.”
Anything to get out of here. Anything to stop pretending she wasn’t unravelling.
Marinette could’ve sworn she saw Adrien sigh. Maybe relief? Whatever it was, it rapidly disappeared beneath his practice model smile. “See you soon, guys,” he said before turning sharply away, marching toward Camille’s family.
Silence fell. They watched him go, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd.
“C’mon,” Nino said gently. “Wanna crash at our place, Mari? I’ll take the couch.”
“Yes,” Alya answered instantly, not even giving Marinette the chance to argue. She pressed a kiss to Nino’s cheek. “You don’t have a choice, girl. I’ll lend you something comfy, and we’re gonna cuddle all night.”
Marinette laughed, brittle but real enough. She blinked furiously to hold back tears. “Okay,” she whispered, afraid that she was gonna collapse if she said anything more.
As Nino led them toward the exit, Marinette dared one last glance over her shoulder. Maybe Alya was right. Maybe she was torturing herself, but she couldn’t help it. She watched as Adrien wrapped an arm around Camille’s waist, the girl resting her head against his shoulder. The picture-perfect couple.
If happy is her
I’m happy for you.