On Point

World Class Ballerina to throw a Spanner in the Works!

By Rena Rouge

Oh my! Oh my! Oh my! Haven't I got news for you!

Dancers in Paris are quaking in their boots as I can exclusively reveal Zoé Lee (20) has returned to her home city. It's not been revealed yet where she's going to be training, but our suspicions lead us in the direction of The Agreste School of Dance, which gives a new front runner for the part of Clara.

As most people know, Zoé Lee and her half sister, Chloé Bourgeois (22) have a fiery relationship both on and off the dance floor, and Zoé's appearance at where Chloé is Queen may cause some unforeseen issues with the casting for the gala.

As always, you'll hear it here first!

*****

It's not like you fit in here.

Tendu.

Why are you here, Shortcake?

Relevé.

You're not like the others, Marinette. I thought that was obvious.

Rest.

As Adrien's words echoed in her mind, they felt like a cascade of sharp arrows, each one piercing through the fragile armour of her self-esteem. The wounds were invisible, but the pain was visceral, a silent storm of self-doubt and hurt feelings. She replayed his words, dissecting each syllable, wondering why his careless remarks found a home in the recesses of her thoughts, leaving an indelible mark on her emotional landscape.

She couldn't concentrate. And it was obvious.

After everything that had happened the previous night, her confidence had taken a rather hearty hit. Her développé barely extended over hip height, and she managed to knock into about four people whilst participating in her chaîné turns... and don't get started on her jetés . Everything was perfectly... awful! Damn Adrien Agreste! Damn all the Agrestes.

"Marinette!" Plagg shouted out, he must have been growing tired of her name today. She was quite sure at some point he muttered about being a parrot. "Head up! Look where you're going!"

She lifted her head only to find herself face-to-face with Lila Rossi.

"Out of the way, Baker girl," she hissed under her breath, continuing the routine flawlessly, as she practically pushed Marinette over and into Rose.

"Sorry," Marinette said, placing a hand to her head and stopping in the middle of the dance floor, Plagg once again shouting her name.

She watched as the ballerina's carried on a couple of moves before holding the pose they were about to reach and preparing to join in again. And she missed the cue.

It couldn't get any worse... could it?

Her question was answered incredibly precisely as she looked out the viewing window and straight into the eyes of Adrien 'head up his own arse' Agreste. Not wanting him to have one over on her, or at least give him another opportunity to laugh at her, Marinette caught up on the routine and prepared for the performance of a lifetime, only to land flat on her ass on the first pirouette — it was only a single one too!

The music stopped, Plagg clapping his hands and calling the girls to attention.

"Bad day, huh?"

"Something like that," Marinette grumbled.

Alya moved over to her friend's side, offering a hand out to pull Marinette up. She slipped her own hand on top, glad to have at least one ally there to help her through it. The way she was going she'd end up in the emergency room, or sending someone else there.

Marinette stood up and brushed her hands down and around her leotard, her eyes avoiding both Adrien and Plagg.

Could she make much more of an idiot of herself?

And where usually she'd embrace the idea of laughing it off and looking at the positives, she was still reeling from Adrien's criticism, each word an added insult to the towering inferno of embarrassment.

She did deserve to be there! She'd earned the place just as much as everyone else. So, she needed to start acting like it. Standing taller she looked over at the window ready to give him the stink eye, only to give it to Marc instead. The guy looked taken aback, looking around him before pointing to himself.

Not wanting Marc to think she was giving him unfriendly, death glares (not that you could give friend ones) she shook her head and held her hands up in surrender. She prayed he could read her actions.

It's not you I'm giving a threatening glare too, it's master dancer Agreste, who is a pompous asshole with a God complex! She may not have said it out loud, but she definitely felt better for saying it in her head.

"The auditions for the Christmas gala will be over the next few days, and some of you need to start putting some effort in, or else you'll only be cast as an understudy for someone in the corps de ballet ." Plagg's eyes bore into hers and she thought she was going to combust from the harshness of it. Ok, so she'd made a few mistakes. She wasn't that bad.

"I suggest you go home and check your lines in the mirror, because right now I'd be more inclined to accept a cat from the street."

Snickers went around the room at Plagg's ridiculous statement, the noise stopping abruptly as he fired off dirty looks at the class. Every dancer stood a little straighter and looked more in tune with their master. Each student now regretting their choice of beverage the prior evening.

Marinette had been one of the few who hadn't drank, instead keeping her wits about her (and her anger) as the other girls got drunk and high, Lila taking the opportunity to fill everyone in about exactly what was the deal between herself and Adrien — details Marinette felt uneasy hearing.

"Now go home," Plagg demanded.

Everyone began to scurry about the studio, Plagg holding an arm out and stopping Marinette from leaving. He retained her on the spot until the last dancer had exited, Alya moving as slowly as possible out of the doorway.

Plagg turned to face her, rage burning up his usually friendly stare.

"I don't know what the hell that was today, but I suggest you consider what I mentioned to you yesterday."

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Good." Without another word, Plagg grabbed his own bag and clipboard and vacated the studio leaving Marinette to look after him with a puzzled expression.

"What was that about?" Alya asked, she stood in the hallway and checking the coast was clear.

She looked off in Plagg's direction only to shake her head again.

"Oh, it was nothing."

"Sure," Alya snorted, moving to the side as Marinette stepped out to grab her bags. As much as she wanted to tell Alya, she couldn't. It was so embarrassing.

Alya took her bottle from her bag, swigging down the tiniest sip before replacing the bottle in her bag. She looked pale. The sunshine of a person becoming nothing more than a shadow of themselves.

"Are you okay?" Marinette asked. Alya nodded in response. She turned her head away and began to walk to the door.

"Fine," she said quickly before slowing her pace and speaking again. "I'm fine."

They walked out of the studio and toward her dorm rooms, Marinette studying her friend the whole way back. She was almost certain Alya was lying.

A few hours later, Marinette was heading down the streets of Paris, looking at the numbers over the doorways and checked the paper again. Some businesses had their names in lights, others looked as though they needed demolishing and rebuilding, and she was slightly worried that maybe she was being set up. Maybe Gabriel wanted her more than just out of the school.

A grand influx of excited children and adults piled out of a doorway to the right, Marinette checking the paper once more before looking up and confirming her thoughts.

Miraculous Studios.

Allowing a couple more bouncing children out of the door, their parents following swiftly after, Marinette squeezed herself in. Instantly embraced by the comfort of such a homely venue. It reminded her a little of Madame Bustier's studio and a nostalgic feeling washed over her. She missed her old classes.

The venue wasn't new... in fact it was quite dated and in desperate need of a face lift. She walked down the corridor noticing the photographs of showcases and galas, plus a glass trophy display full to the brim. She stopped in front of a wall that held notices of what was coming up in the near future, along with rehearsal times and congratulations posters for the Elite squad.

There was still a collection of parents looking through the glass, watching as their children ran their routines. Marinette moved herself over and peered in.

Lyrical.

They were dancing her favourite style, and each and every child inside the studio was phenomenal. She wondered if this was the elite class.

Looking at their builds and heights, Marinette couldn't help but think these girls were between 10 and 11 years old, the one dancing the lead showing incredible talent and skill to a maturity she'd never seen before. A child born to dance, and an intense look of pride on their coaches face.

They all performed perfectly in sync, a testament to the choreography and teacher who'd pulled this out of such young children.

"Amazing, aren't they?"

A familiar voice came from behind her, Marinette turning to see Plagg alongside a woman with vibrant red hair. A woman she recognised as Plagg's long time partner. She was bouncing on the spot, excitement obvious in her smile and a hand placed over her rather round belly.

"This is my wife, Tikki Fu. She owns the studio."

*****

Adrien watched each and every dancer with great awe. They'd embraced the routine and pushed to the next level, and he was undeniably proud. This is where he loved to be. Standing at the front of the studio, watching his creation blossom and bloom into an intricate masterpiece of leg and arm work.

He worked under an alias in the studio. His baseball cap, brown contact lenses and baggy clothing were a cheap attempt at camouflaging his real identity, restricting his father from finding out where he went each night. Where Gabriel Agreste thought his son was out partying and sleeping around, he was working tirelessly with young talent within Tikki's studio. His haven from the cruel and bitter harshness of the world.

Choreography and coaching was his passion, he loved modelling and shaping the future talent of Paris, especially as he wasn't just constricted to ballet. He loved teaching contemporary, lyrical, jazz, even hip hop from time to time, and he knew for a fact he did it better than how his father taught and trained him.

As the dancers finished the routine, Adrien turned off the stereo before clapping and cheering with the excited students. He looked up at the window, searching for the validation of the parents standing there, only to catch a familiar face in a crowd of over enthusiastic smiles.

Marinette was there. She'd trusted Plagg enough to come tonight. Adrien watched as she spoke with both Plagg and Tikki, the two obviously about giving her the low down about the studio and their classes... and maybe even him.

Adrien didn't go by his name here though, instead he was undercover, he could be himself and do what he wanted. Here he was Chat Noir.

"Well done everyone, I'm looking forward to seeing you at finals next week."

Adrien walked to the studio door, opening it up and sending the children off to their parents, every now and then responding to questions from the mother's – some more unorthodox than others.

"Hey, Chat Noir, we have a new student in the adult contemporary class tonight."

Adrien smiled and held a hand out for her, taking it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the knuckles.

"It's great to meet you, M'Lady."

He felt the side of him he held back break free. Here he could be his real self without the expectations. And maybe sometimes he went a little over the top, he could just imagine Plagg's face if he'd heard that.

Marinette smiled in response. The pink tint only made her look more alluring than usual. "Mice to neat you... I mean... nice to meet you too. My name is Marinette."

"That's a beautiful name," Adrien said. He indicated for her to head into the studio, himself following behind. She was dressed in red and black, her sports leggings looking like a ladybug and causing him to smirk.

Lucky she most certainly wasn't.

"So, are you an experienced dancer?" He knew it was a stupid question, but if he wanted to keep his identity hidden, the last thing he needed was for Marinette to realise who he was and then go and tattle tale to his father. Not that she would, but he didn't know her enough to take that chance. He didn't even know her at all, and having her here was a perfect opportunity.

"I've danced before if that's what you mean?"

He nodded. "Awesome! What styles?"

He led her over to a bench, showing her where to place her things as the room began to fill with other young adults. She placed her bag down, before sitting and removing her shoes and socks. He looked down at her feet and noticed the bandaids and how tattered and torn her feet already seemed. She'd only been at the school for a couple of weeks, yet from the looks of the scars already forming on her toes, she needed to consider what support she was wearing.

"Mainly lyrical and contemporary, though I do ballet too. You can probably tell from my feet."

"Ahhh, the dreaded ballet."

Adrien smiled at her, her own smile stretching the length of her face. She really was dazzling sunshine on a cloudy day. He didn't think he'd said more than a couple of words to her at the studio, so this was refreshing. No expectations and no hidden agendas, just two people who loved to dance.

She'd been terrible at the studio that morning. Falling and failing as she tried to keep up with the other dancers, and he knew he was to blame.

His conscience weighed heavily on him, guilt washing over him like a remorseful tide. He grappled all day with the echoes of his words, realising their impact on her.

"Yeah," she laughed. "I enjoy it, but not as much as contemporary and lyrical."

"You've come to the right place then!"

Marinette stood from the bench and began to stretch a little, looking around the studio and at the picture on the walls.

"That's Tikki and Plagg," Adrien said. "I don't know if you've heard of them before, but they were both high up in the China Royal Ballet. They came to work here around 8 years ago."

Most people in the world of ballet knew about Tikki and Plagg, they were the golden couple, and of course Marinette knew Plagg from the studio.

He watched Marinette study the black and white photographs, each one showing the dynamic duo in action on stage and in the studio.

"They look amazing, don't they? A dream duo. Tikki always says she creates the magic, whereas Plagg says he's the destruction."

Marinette chuckled again, moving into the centre of the room where others were already stretching and joined in herself.

"I doubt that very much!" she said, with a grin. "So, do you teach this class too?"

Adrien shook his head. "No, this is Tikki's forte, not mine. I just tend to stay and join in, sometimes Plagg will join in the class too."

"Your class looked amazing!"

"Thank you," Adrien said. "It's the studios Elite squad, and even though some of the maman's make the parents on Dance Mom's look sane, I love it! They have their finals coming up soon, and it's the first year we've ever made it."

"Oh wow! Well, good luck! Though the routine is magical and the children are so talented."

Adrien couldn't help but smile again. He loved it when someone commented on his students. They really were wonderful. As he opened his mouth to speak again, his heavily pregnant friend came to stand at the front. Tikki all smiles as she demanded attention.

"Okay, everyone. Into the middle of the floor."

The studio suddenly seemed to be buzzing as people came in and greeted each other, throwing their bags onto the bench and jumping onto the studio floor. He loved the friendships and the non-judgemental atmosphere, he loved Tikki teaching him as much as Plagg, he just loved it here. This was his home.

"Can I stay with you?" Marinette suddenly whispered.

"Of course, that's if you don't mind hiding out at the back. I like the space."

Marinette nodded, her eyes sparkling. "There's nowhere I'd rather be!"

*****

Adrien couldn't fathom the skills of this girl. He knew she was talented, but after an hour's contemporary class, he was blown away. This was her style and she dominated it. She hit the dynamics perfectly and made it all look effortless. She didn't look like his mother when she danced this way, she looked.. dare he say it... better! She danced easier than he breathed.

Memories came flooding back from a performance he had seen years ago, no doubt in his mind that she was the one he'd been searching for.

Adrien had never danced on the festival scene but he had sometimes supported Chloé and Zoé back in their days of stage work. He'd always remember being curious about the contemporary and lyrical categories, Zoé encouraging him to go and watch. Chloe hated it, telling him it was a waste of time. So one day, he'd snuck in to watch, and there he'd saw her. The girl who exposed him to what else was behind the curtain, and how dance could be expressed. It was that night he asked Plagg about other styles. It was that night Plagg guided him to Tikki's studio.

And it was that night, at 16 years old, Adrien Agreste had found his calling. And he prayed for the day he could thank the girl who gave him aspirations and inspiration.

He wanted to dance with her. He needed to.

"Thank you for tonight," Marinette said as he walked out of the studio. He was staying late tonight. Helping Plagg and Tikki clean the studio from top to bottom, his favourite place to be.

"You're welcome. Come back anytime. I'm here most nights."

"That sounds great."

They stood awkwardly on the step, Adrien unsure whether he should hug her or shake her hand. His question was answered as she stepped forwards towards him and wrapped her arms around his stomach. He couldn't be standing more awkwardly if he tried.

She moved backwards, stepping out onto the street and wrapped her coat tightly around her body. She looked glowing. So happy and free.

"Are you okay going home alone? It's quite dark and I –"

Chuckling, Marinette shook her head. "I'll be fine. I promise. See you next week?"

Tomorrow , he thought.

"Sure, see you next week. Oh, and maybe, if you're free you could come to the festival finals."

"I'd like that."

Neither seemed to want to end the conversation, both hovering on the spot and smiling at each other. A slight rock from side to side with idiot smiles on their faces.

"I best be –" She trailed off, pointing over her shoulder and taking a step in the direction of the dorm rooms.

"Sure."

Adrien watched her go, a strange sadness overpowering him at the loss of her.

He'd felt something stir in him tonight, something he hadn't felt for quite a while, and his heart was telling him he needed to dance with this girl, that she was the key to awakening him again.

If he didn't he would regret it for the rest of his life.