When Adrien and I started dating back in high school, he would often leave flowers at the balcony every after class. Even though it was hard, I told him so stop, since it was getting suspicious that Adrien Agreste would have a bouquet of flowers delivered every day at their mansion. It took quite a while to convince him to stop, but even when he did, he would still pick up a random flower from anywhere and sneakily give it to me. He'd sometimes insert it in my notebooks, or my sketchbook, and sometimes he'd even find ways to place a few on top of my bag. I kept them all in a scrapbook back at home.
And that's what he's been doing for the past few days after I talked it out with Chloe. A bouquet of different flowers everyday, delivered to me by different delivery guys, saying it's from an "unidentified banana species". Once, a delivery man even bowed to me while we were filming and handed me a bouquet of flowers like he was lending me an ancient powerful sword or something, screamed "ACCEPT MY LOVE!", ran back to his motorcycle, and disappeared.
For the first two days it happened, I earned a few snickers from the staff. But as it continued, it was clear that it was getting annoying. Even for me; these delivery guys just deliver at the wrong time.
Now, I received a bouquet of sunflowers. As I walk back to my trailer carrying the bouquet, I heard a few whispers from the staff as they gave me dirty looks.
"Ugh. It's really getting annoying now."
"I know right? Do you think she sends those flowers to herself to make Nathaniel jealous?"
"Pfft, probably. She's not even that pretty. No one would make that much of an effort for her."
"Yeah. I mean, Nathaniel broke up with her even after just a few months. That says something."
I ignored them as I gripped on the bouquet. Their words should hurt, but compared to all these stuff that happened these past few days, whatever they're saying did not even compare. As I was walking towards my dressing room, our director, Penelope, stopped in front of me with a small smile on her face.
"Oh! Um, uh, hello, Ms. Gingers," I stammered as I struggled to hide my bouquet even though there was literally no use doing that. It was too big to even hide behind me. "Uh, anything I can help you with?"
She nods and gestured me to walk with her. "Yes, please. I just have a few things to say."
I gulped and nodded as we both arrived at the dressing room. She kindly asked Chloe to leave, which earned a confused look from her to me, but even I had no idea what was going on. When Penelope and I were finally alone inside, she locked the door and turned around with the same smile plastered on her face, which kind of creeped me out.
"Marinette," she started, her voice warm and sweet, like honey and tea. "I just wanted to say thank you."
Huh?
"Um, for what, exactly?" I asked, almost throwing the bouquet in the nearest trash bin before realizing that our director was literally in front of me, so I just gently placed it on top of the make-up table.
She starts to walk around the room, scanning the place as if she's never been here for thousands of times. "When we were casting for the role of Stella, I almost lost all hope. If you didn't know, this movie is actually the first movie with me as head director. So I was nervous and scared. Almost everyone — no, actually, everyone — that went to the casting auditions were all just thirsty for this Agreste heartthrob, and I almost lost all hope. Before you arrived at the building, I was actually very close to cancelling the movie."
I didn't know what to say. This was so random.
"But then you came in, arguing with him, and it was just perfect. Although you didn't have any acting experience, I had a feeling that you'd do just fine; and you did. You're an amazing girl, really."
"Why do I sense a but coming?"
Her brown eyes had a bit of panic in them, but she waved it off with a smile. "You've done really well, Marinette. But I have a small favor."
I raised an eyebrow, hesitant. What could she possibly ask for?
"What is it?"
She runs a hand through her crimson hair, trying to look for the right words to say. "I'd advise you not to show up at the premiere."
What?
"Excuse me?"
Penelope takes a deep breath as she focused her eyes on mine. "Do not show up at the premiere of the movie."
"But—but I'm literally the lead—"
"I know, but it's for the best."
For the best?
For the best?
I hated how she still sounded sweet after saying that. It makes me feel guilty for silently accusing her of hating my guts and wanting to throw me off a cliff.
I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't really know what to say. I was speechless by this sudden request, and from our head director herself. Ignoring my facial expression, she returns to the warm smile that now looked very hostile to me, and placed both of her hands on my shoulders.
"I think we've come to an agreement. Thank you. See you on set, Ms. Dupain-Cheng," she says before leaving the dressing room, leaving me dumbfounded, still trying to process everything that just happened.
It wasn't really in my plan to attend the premiere of our movie, but now that she told me not to come, it only made me want to. What the hell is going on? Why is she telling me that?
Chloe went inside the dressing room after a while, looking just as bamboozled as I am.
"I heard everything. Don't even ask. I trained myself for gossip ever since I was in kindergarten. I have super hearing," she quickly opened her make up bag and plopped me down the chair in front of the vanity mirror. She looked distracted as she started rubbing foundation on my face. "Seriously, Marinette. You keep on attracting drama."
I shrugged as I continued to think about what just happened; she wasn't wrong. Ever since I got casted for this role with this stupid overripe monkey poop, I never got any rest from chaos.
After driving to multiple places for the shooting, we were finally done for the day. Chloe had to leave early because she had an appointment with some skincare doctor, and I was left alone with my thoughts in my trailer.
With all of this stuff that has happened these past few days, another problem popping up should've made me numb by now. But the fact that Penelope herself told me to not attend the premiere of my own frickin movie just does not makes sense at all. Did she tell me that just because she secretly hates my guts? Did Chloe tell her to do that and gave her lots of cash? Okay, that assumption made me feel a little guilty; Chloe claims to be trying to change for the better. But I can't completely trust her yet.
With a sigh, I sank into the chair and stared at the mirror. Looking at my face, radiant with Chloe's make-up skills and my hair perfectly smooth, memories of how I was before kicked in. I hated how I looked like. I hated my body. I hated myself. And it all became so much worse after the incident with Adrien.
Even years and years of therapy didn't completely heal me. Telling the story to Alya was such a big leap for me, since bringing myself back to that time where I was almost taken by strangers traumatized the living hell out of me. Up until now, I'm still healing. And Adrien Agreste's presence is honestly the biggest hindrance to that.
"I am stronger than who I was," I whispered to myself, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I would always tell that to myself whenever I'm alone, to remind myself that I'm not going back to the trauma and the pain anymore. But it's still there.
My phone suddenly rang, which snapped me back to reality. Taking a deep breath, I picked it up without looking at the contact name.
"Hello?"
"Marinette? Marinette, my darling?"
Tears pricked my eyes the moment I heard her voice. I immediately placed my hand over my mouth to stop myself from making weird crying noises even before I could answer.
"Mom," I whispered, my hand shaking. Tears began to stream from my eyes when I realized how much I missed her. "Mommy."
"Oh, sweetie. I'm so sorry it took so long for us to call you. Me and your papa have been quite busy these days," she said, laughing a little after. "Tom, stop it! Marinette's here."
"What? Marinette?" I heard my dad from a little farther away, then a few muffled shuffles from the phone. "My girl! How are you? I heard you're gonna be a big star!"
It got so much harder to control my sobs after I heard my dad speak. Their voices sounded so much like home, and I would give anything to be there with them right now.
"P—papa," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I miss you both so much."
"Aw, sweetie, we miss you too," Mom replied, "we have so much to talk about! You have to tell us everything, okay? We're here for you. Do you have time?"
I wanted to tell them everything. How I felt so lost, so broken, the moment I agreed to be a part of this movie. How I was the girlfriend of my celebrity crush for a few months and had to break up with him because it wasn't going to work. How I feel so empty. I badly wanted to tell them to just take me home, snuggle me in a warm blanket, and make me dad's delicious hot chocolate that always lifts my spirits. How much I wanted to hug them and cry into their arms as I release every tension and every pain I've been trying to hide.
A shaky smile formed on my face as I felt my heart squeeze in the best way possible.
"Yes, mama," I replied, "I always have time for the both of you."
And suddenly, the dark, lonely dressing room didn't feel so dark and lonely anymore.
a/n
THE PARENTS DESERVE THE WORLD
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