March 26th

Brushing down her dress, Marinette strode down Regent Street dodging the throngs of tourists trying to find Hamley's Toy Shop or one of the many London attractions. Ducking under a rather enthusiastic flower seller, she turned off the main shopping street and headed through the maze of back streets towards where her destination was located, every now and then checking google maps and the route she was following.

She was going to be early, for once in her life Marinette Dupain-Cheng was going to be early; she was very tempted to text Alya and rub it in the reporters face. See, she would say, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was not just a lazy, chaotic mess. Also, she could fill her friend in about the way she had attacked Adrien Agreste this morning. An Adrien Agreste she hadn't seen since college.

The mortification was still running strong as she thought about the events that preceded this moment. After she had – for want of a better phrase – physically assaulted Adrien, she'd scrambled off to her room and hid away as she got ready for her interview. She didn't know what to say or do, instead choosing to stay away from the guy who plagued her very existence in her teenage years. Chloé might have been mean, but Adrien was something else entirely.

It seemed her one time rival was actually staying with his cousin for the next few days, something about a water pipe bursting in his own home — and yet, even after their rather public drunken argument at their wedding, Kagami and Félix had failed to let Marinette know she would be in same space as Adrien for the next few days; part of her suspected them of planning this out on purpose. It was news to no one that the lovebirds wanted them to kiss and make up. But as far as she was concerned he could kiss her...

Finding the revolving door of the building, Marinette pushed through and landed at the back of a rather intimidating line of bodies. It seemed there were quite a few people here for the interview and suddenly the positive, excited demeanour she'd arrived in London with, disintegrated into a pile of mush.

She held her bags tighter into her chest; the bag which contained her handmade outfit, the one she'd spent the better part of two weeks creating being gripped the tightest — this bag literally held the key to her future. The added pigeon feathers lining the lapels of the jacket the 'va va voom' to make her stand out and the risk she'd taken to guarantee her success.

Unfortunately, she just needed to get through a group interview before she could present her design to the CEO and management.

Stepping forward, Marinette inched closer and closer to the welcome desk, her eyes browsing around the area and taking in the blue and silver accents around the lobby. Black and white pictures adorned the walls, pictures of bodies from the chin down, wrists with watches, and hands with rings...

Rings.

Marinette wanted to step closer and have a look at the wall in front of her. The ring seemed to twig a familiarity in her mind, but she couldn't quite work out why?

It was thick, and from the grayscale tone, a silver or platinum in colour. As she continued to stare, her head tilting, she hadn't realised the person in front of her had already vacated the desk.

"Name!"

An unimpressed British accent barked out the order, almost causing Marinette to jump out of her skin.

"M-M-Marinette Dupain-Cheng." Her name came out wobbly and slightly unnerved, not exactly the first impression she wanted to create.

"Are you here for the interview?" The woman didn't even crack a smile, instead her fingers continued to move across the keys at an unnerving speed, not even a frown line to be seen; yet her lips pursed as she typed. Marinette puzzled whether she was having a bad day, or poisoned up on botox.

"Yes, I have my paperwork here." Bringing her bag around to her front, Marinette began to scramble — searching through the depths of her self proclaimed 'Mary Poppins' bag for the paperwork sent the previous week. She was pretty certain she had placed it in there this morning – post attacking Adrien, that was.

"No need. Your name is here."

A red lanyard with 'visitor' written over it was thrust in her direction, a pen following and being slammed down on the counter in front of her.

"Sign."

"Oh," Marinette gasped, "um – merci. Thank you." She attempted to smile at the woman seated behind the desk; however, a glare a headmistress would be proud of was turned and aimed in Marinette's direction. She was quite sure the woman was channelling the vibes of 'sign or die.' Obviously it wasn't time for pleasantries.

Picking up the pen, Marinette concentrated on finding her name and signing herself in, the slight tremble in her hand causing the M. Dupain-Cheng to look more like N. Oupon-Chany.

"Thank you." She pushed the paper and pen back towards the assistant, watching as it was snatched up from the desk and slammed down onto a stack of other papers.

"Interviews are taking place on the 7th floor, the lift is over there." She pointed somewhere off to the right, Marinette taking a quick glance in hope the signing was clear. "You need to read and sign this paperwork..." Another load of paper was slammed in front of her. "... and give it to Miss Sancoeur when she takes you into the interview suite –"

"Miss Sancoeur?" Marinette interrupted.

Miss Botox looked ready to throw the pen she was holding right at Marinette's head, obviously you didn't interrupt this woman. Decisively ignoring her outburst, the woman carried on.

"Once the first interviews have taken place," she said in perfect Queen's English, "Miss Sancoeur will announce those successfully through to the next round. They will then be allocated their models ready to present their design." She looked Marinette up and down, completely unimpressed. "If you get to that stage, you'll be asked to alter your outfit in front of the design panel. Do you have your outfit with you? If you don't, unfortunately you will not be allowed to interview today."

Marinette pulled her bag to her chest with a smile, tappping it like a proud school child with their homework. What was she expecting? A sticker? She smiled once more at Miss Botox.

Waiting... waiting... waiting...

Finally, the woman spoke with pure exasperation. "Any questions?" she sighed.

"Oh," Marinette said, grabbing the paper from the desk and heading towards the elevator. "No, that's all great. Thank you."

Stumbling a little in the heels Kagami had made her wear, Marinette headed to the elevator and pressed the button. As she waited she looked around the foyer once again. There was something so familiar about the male hands with the ring andthe topless males pecks. Where had she seen something that defined before? And the name...

Miss Sancoeur.

Miss... Sancoeur.

It couldn't be could it?

The signal of the elevator didn't do a lot to pull her out of her Gabriel filled thoughts, a few others who were interviewing, brushing past her as they made their way inside; one hitting her hard enough to cause her to stagger in.

It just couldn't be the same person could it? Gabriel had gone bankrupt just over a year ago. He couldn't have already started a new company... she was sure she would have known about it. It's not like Adrien would have taken it over, he was far too stuck up to consider helping other people. He had millions in the bank from his modelling, he wouldn't need his father anymore. She never really spoke to him, except during chance encounters, and Kagami rarely mentioned him in conversation knowing how fired up his name made her.

The chatter in the elevator was interrupting her thoughts – breaking any chains that were beginning to link together. Everyone was talking about how they found out about the interview and when they'd decided to apply. Marinette, however, had been lucky. It was a new company. One just finding its feet and looking to build its story in the fashion world. Kagami had forwarded the information on to her from a close friend.

A... close... friend.

No! No! It can't be? Could that close friend be...

The elevator slowed to a complete stop, the doors opening and revealing the answer to her question.

She couldn't help but swallow past the lump in her throat; her nostrils flaring and hands gripping tighter around the bag of the outfit she'd made for round two; the 'round two' she was pretty certain she wouldn't be making.

That red streak was one she would never forget and the face was one which had stared her down time and time again as she attempted to pass homework onto Adrien.

As Marinette braced herself for Nathalie to show an ounce of recognition and then throw her out, she was sorely disappointed that she didn't even get a slight twinge of an eyebrow. Nothing.

"Please complete the forms before going into the interview room."

Just as she remembered, Nathalie's voice was harsh and to the point. She was quite sure this was where Miss Botox had learned her professional conduct from — Nathalie's harsh exterior.

Marinette moved with the group into the boardroom, feeling like cattle being ushered into a barn. She found a seat around the rather profound meeting table and settled into the chair, digging once more into her bag for a pen.

Aha!

Pulling it out and raising it like the Holy Grail, Marinette rushed through the paperwork signing away and initialling where needed. A small part of her asking to slow down and read the damn thing, but this was her dream and she'd do whatever it took to make that dream become a reality.

"Now you're all here, we will start round one of the interviews. Those who are successful will then be asked to present their designs. From there you will be judged on your design and creation skills, along with any alterations you will need to make. You are all group four. The other three groups are already going through their process and yours will begin shortly."

Nathalie gave everyone one last look over, before leaving the room.

"She's terrifying," said the girl beside Marinette.

"You have no idea!" Marinette settled back in her chair, reaching down beside her into her bag and lifting out both her phone and the paperwork she'd received back in Paris.

'A Designs.'

A? A Designs? Marinette could only come to one conclusion: the A stood for Agreste. Dammit!

Looking at her phone she debated whether she should do her homework quickly and research who owned the company, or message Kagami with a small, yet vocal, piece of her mind. A quick decision had Marinette swiping up with full intentions of googling the company, when her phone went off in her hand instead.

Mr Unknown (10:10am): So, what are you wearing right at this moment?

Marinette smiled and looked around the room. Everyone seemed completely absorbed in themselves and their own phones, therefore no one would notice her sudden obsession with her own.

To Mr Unknown (10:13am): Today I went with a fisherman's hat and trench coat. I swapped the wellies out for stilettos though. Dialled the wrong number again?

Placing her thumb nail in her mouth, she nibbled down on it, her lips twitching as waited for the response from the anonymous face on the other side of the phone. It didn't take too long for the reply to appear.

Mr Unknown (10:14am): Sexy! I love a waterproof hat! Our conversation yesterday was just so riveting I wanted to message you again. Plus, there's a question which has been playing on my mind all day.

Marinette looked at her watch. How could he have thought about it all day? It was only 10:15am. She rolled her eyes and began to message back.

To Mr Unknown: All day? That's a bit extreme isn't it? How long have you been awake?

Mr Unknown (10:18am): Long enough. Do you want to hear my question?

To Mr Unknown: You're going to ask me anyway, aren't you?

A snort left her mouth, bringing unwanted attention to her from the other interviewees in the room.

"Sorry," she announced to the room, slumping lower into the chair and turning her attention back to her messages.

Mr Unknown (10:22am): Of course. You know me so well already.

Mr Unknown(10:22am): Anyway, I want to know if you ate your liquorice underwear?

The scoff was neither flattering or a good idea. Once more, everyone turned their attention to her, her hand waving around in apology. "Sorry," she whispered out to the room again, pushing herself back up into the chair and trying to hold herself together.

To Mr Unknown: You seem to know me well too... I'd run out of food and had great fun eating sweets which had been up my ass.

Mr Unknown (9:25am): What you do in your free time is completely up to you! I'm not here to judge.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" Miss Botox had now appeared in the room, clipboard in hand and face once again void of any expression. Marinette had always been able to read people, so to have someone so annulled terrified Marinette. She prayed this woman wouldn't be on the panel.

"Here!" Marinette stood up and raised one hand, before scooping all her items together and throwing them in her bag. She scrambled towards the doorway, apologising to those her bag hit on the way.

Eventually, she was out of the room and following Miss Botox down the corridor, her handmade costume once again grasped tightly to her chest.

"In here."

The door was flung open and Marinette was guided inside. Her feet stopped dead yet didn't communicate this to her brain as her body continued forward, causing her to stumble and collapse into a seat.

Trying to gain composure, Marinette sat down and looked into the three pairs of eyes opposite. Nathalie Sancoeur and the Agrestes.