On Point

Agreste has Talent

By Rena Rouge

Woah! What an audition process that was! I'm worn out just from hearing about it.

After 125 wannabe ballerinas attended the audition at Agreste, 16 new additions were taken into the famed school of dance, however, following the auditions another monumental announcement is in preparation.

We have it from a reliable source that The Agreste Ballet Company are about to announce they will be increasing their ensemble by taking 4 females and 3 males and as permanent fixtures after the Christmas Gala.

As many of you know, the Agreste Christmas Gala is famed for pairing up talented ballerinas with companies all around the world. Scouts will arrive in their droves, ready to snatch up anyone not selected by Gabriel Agreste himself.

What's more; there's been a rumour circulating the dance scene that Adrien Agreste, himself, requested one specific dancer from the auditions. We're yet to know why the younger Agreste was allowed this opportunity, however could this be a glimpse of Adrien's new pas de deux partner? Is Gabriel finally loosening his reins on his company and handing some power down to his son? Maybe this is a step forward for the younger Agreste to take over his father's throne.

We have been told Adrien had viewed one set of auditionees, plus a couple of the company's Prima Ballerinas, to make his decision.

In other news, the San Francisco ballet have teased the impending retirement of their Prima ballerina, Layla Rhodes (26). After 8 years with the crème de la crème dance company, it seems Layla will be Couru'ing her way off stage and into a dance master position within the company. With such a prestigious position up for grabs, and Gabriel's up take of new students, we can't help but wonder if a scout will be making themselves known at the 'Agreste Christmas Gala'.

*****

"Now, are you sure this is what you want to do sweetheart? It doesn't matter to us if you want to just turn around and head back home, you did amazing to even get selected."

"Maman, please, I'm going to be fine. I'm literally moving 10 minutes away." Marinette whined as she dragged her bag up the staircase and towards her dorm room, the overloaded bag ricocheting off the steps as she yanked it upwards.

"I just can't believe you're moving out," Tom Dupain sniffed. "It only feels like yesterday we were taking you to your first dance class. You looked so cute and innocent in your pink leotard and tights, and your tubby little toddler belly sticking out." Tom sniffed. He'd been crying about this all day, she thought he would have dried himself out by now.

Sabine Cheng moved forwards and rubbed a hand gently over her husband's back. "She'll be fine, dear."

She grabbed a tissue from her pocket and thrust it into her husband's face, the big man stopping to wipe underneath his eyes. "You were just as worried a minute ago."

Marinette continued moving onwards, leaving her parents behind to cry and talk about distant memories. Anybody would think she was moving to Timbuktu. Grabbing her phone from her back pocket, she searched for the email containing her dorm number. Her home for the next year, at least. Each dorm came complete with six bedrooms and a communal area, a mix of both males and females in each apartment.

Finally reaching the correct number, she pushed open the door and stepped in, leaving her parents somewhere down the hallway. It seemed she was the first one here. The sofas and kitchen were bare, and the bedroom doors were all still open.

A quick glance at her phone again told her was looking for room 3 — the room she'll be sharing. She couldn't wait to meet her roommate, her new bff for the time being (if the American movies she'd watched were anything to go by). She continued down the corridor, glancing at the door numbers.

1...

2...

Suddenly a head appeared around the corner and almost head butted her.

"You!" the head screamed.

"You!" Marinette replied. She dropped her cases and stepped forward, hugging the girl in front of her.

"Hey roomie!" the head said again.

Marinette had all but ran from the audition after making a fool out of herself in front of Gabriel Agreste and his son, not expecting to hear anything but a decline from the audition process. So, when her letter of acceptance came she couldn't believe it. She'd been accepted here, at the greatest ballet school in the world! Luck must have truly been on her side that day — either that or they were desperate.

"Welcome to the dorms. We need to give it a cool name like 'The Hub' or something!" The excitement was vibrating off Alya, the girl grinning to an extent that Marinette thought her face was going to rip in half.

Marinette smiled. "This is so cool! I can't believe I'm actually here!"

"I know! Crazy isn't it! Also, did you hear the rumour going around that Adrien Agreste chose one of the new dancers personally! Can you imagine? Adrien Agreste personally picking you out of all the crowds to be his pas de deux partner; you would automatically be boosted to principle!"

If only!

Alya stepped to one side, allowing Marinette to stumble through the doorway with her suitcase and backpack. Only moments later, she heard her parents make their way towards her room, this time talking about the time she fell off the stage. Good times.

"Don't forget Lila and Chloé were in our audition too, maybe it was one of those he was choosing. I could imagine Gabriel wanting his son to be paired with an established dancer, not a newbie."

"Who knows?" Alya said, the smile not leaving her face. "All I know is that we're here and we're going to have an amazing time together."

The girls laughed and chatted as they put their items away, Tom and Sabine heading back down to the car to get the remaining boxes. Marinette began to place her most treasured items on the shelves and in drawers, filling the shelves with personal trinkets and ornaments.

"Woah! Where did you get that from?" Alya appeared on her shoulder looking at the dress in her hands. One she had thrown together herself.

"I made it," Marinette explained, placing it in the wardrobe and admiring the dress. It was simple and sophisticated, and she loved it. She'd just never had anywhere to wear it. "You can borrow it sometime if you want?"

Alya laughed heartily, before moving back to her own boxes. "I couldn't even fit a leg in there. You're so tiny."

"I'll make you something one day then." Marinette smiled at her new friend.

"Deal!"

Once all the boxes and bags were unloaded from the car, Tom and Sabine wished her good luck and goodbye, and (with a whole load of fresh tears) left her to finish getting organised. For the first time in 19 years she was on her own.

"How does this work then?" Marinette said, turning to Alya for guidance, she could see this becoming a regular thing over the next year. Alya seemed extremely streetwise, unlike Marinette would couldn't even catch the train properly alone — maybe this was a mistake?

Alya led her out of their bedroom and towards the opposite ones.

"These two are both already taken by dancers in the corps de ballet. As far as I'm aware, this one has two girls in it, this one two guys. Then this one here, is for a new pair of guys. I've seen them — they're hot!"

Marinette laughed. "I thought you had a boyfriend."

"I do, but I like a bit of eye candy. Plus I most likely don't have what they go for, if you get what I mean." She wiggled her eyebrows at Marinette before continuing down into the main communal space.

A girl and a guy were already there and a rather enthusiastic — and rough — attempt at taking nail polish off was in motion.

"What did you use on these, Luka? Indelible marker." A small blonde girl was on her knees scrubbing at the nails of a guy with jet black hair and blue tips. He was laughing, and Marinette felt her stomach flutter. Alya was right about the eye candy. And the tone of his laugh? — Was this what was meant by love at first sight?

"Yeah, well, once you've done my nails you need to dye my hair so put your back into it."

The blonde growled and grabbed the bottle of acetone remover. Yikes, if she was going for the hard stuff that must be one hell of a coating.

"Hey," Alya announced herself. "Nice to meet you. I'm Alya and this is Marinette."

"Hey, I'm Luka, and this little Angel here is Rose."

Marinette lifted her hand in a small wave, giving both the dancers on the sofa a soft smile. "Hi!"

She studied Rose for a moment and wondered if she and Luka were an item, they were obviously close and the thought sent a rock spiralling down into the pit of her stomach.

"Come and join us," Rose said, moving over a little and allowing room for Marinette and Alya to sit alongside them on the sofa.

"So, tell us about yourselves." Rose's voice was high pitched and squeaky, and Marinette couldn't help but compare her to a teeny, tiny mouse. A mouse which seemed to really like wearing pink.

"Well, I'm Alya, 20 years old and dead pumped on being accepted into the school! I can't wait to get training."

"Where did you go before?" Marinette asked, realising she hadn't had this conversation with her newfound friend yet.

"I started at Urdang in London when I was 18. They took me in under the ballet umbrella, and it was good. Just, I'm not exactly cut out for everything else they did there – I can't do jazz to save my life and singing... well, no one wants to hear that. As soon as I knew the auditions were opening here, I went straight for it."

"And here you are," Luka said, looking at his nails. One hand down and one to go. His fingers were long and calloused, and she so desperately wanted to know the story behind them.

"Here I am. The best ballet school in the world."

Marinette laughed, before allowing her eyes to drift over to Luka once again. His face was chiselled to perfection – sharp lines and almost statuesque. He reminded her of a vampire, sharp lines and piercing eyes, a vampire you'd see in 'The Vampire Diaries' or 'Twilight' not the old fashioned horror ones. She couldn't help the nervous sweat suddenly taking over her palms as images of him biting her neck flooded her brain.

Get a grip on yourself, girl!

"How about you?" Luka said, his ocean eyes homing in on Marinette and causing her to perform a strange combination of a jump in fear and a blush. Could he read her mind? Did he know what she was thinking?

"I trained in Paris with Madam Bustier. When she heard about the auditions she signed me up. I didn't expect to get in." Her voice was surprisingly calm considering her body was melting under his gaze.

He frowned at her. "Why not? You must have talent or you wouldn't have been selected."

Marinette shrugged, unsure what to say. "I suppose I'm just lucky. Maybe they had turned away and missed my dramatic fall out of my Chaînés."

"Nah, girl!" Alya laughed, tucking her feet under her bottom as she made herself more comfortable on the sofa. "Adrien Agreste definitely saw you fall flat on your ass!"

Marinette groaned, covering her face with her hands. She totally knew it was the truth.

"Don't worry about it. You were meant to be here, and if Plagg recommended you, you know you have talent and, from what I can sense, you most certainly have an intriguing air around you." Luka's voice was like honey, so soothing and calming. Her eyes searched for his again, to settle herself into the tranquillity of the ocean.

"Well, if you need any help, I'm sure Luka would gladly be of service. He's amazing! Did you check him out at the auditions?" Rose interrupted.

Now it was Luka's turn to blush. His cheeks turned an adorable pink on his pale unblemished skin, and her hands itched to touch apples of his pink, sharp cheeks.

"I'm not that good."

"He's amazing!" Rose said, slapping him on the shoulder. "I think even Adrien Agreste will be quaking in his boots when he sees Luka's skills!"

As much as Marinette would like to believe that, Adrien Agreste was a whole skill set and standard above the others. People claimed to be as good as him – and technically they probably were – but it was Adrien's stage presence which made him the dancer everyone wanted to be – or be with. He was fluid on the dance floor, almost floating from move to move in a wonderful, beautiful and dramatic way. He was poetry in motion. A story in dance form. He was incredible.

"I doubt it! Adrien's my idol! Just to be performing with him in the gala would be a dream come true."

Marinette leaned forward and took another ball of cotton wool, coating it in the acetone liquid before offering her own hand out for Luka. "May I?"

He gave her a smile which made her insides quiver and heartbeat a little faster. How was she going to survive living in the dorm with him? And the feeling of his calluses drove her more wild than she would like to admit.

"I play the guitar," Luka suddenly said as though reading her mind. She looked down and noticed she was absentmindedly stroking along his fingers, her own caressing his hardened skin.

"Oh, um, sorry! I shouldn't have been touching you, I just didn't expect that feeling."

"It's okay," Luka smiled again. "Perhaps I could play for you sometime."

"I'd like that!"

A sudden noise came from beside her, and she looked up to see Alya faking being sick. "If you'll excuse me from all this flirting, I need to have something to eat. Rose? Fancy joining me?"

"Sure!" she said, springing to her feet and moving away with Alya.

"See you later, Lovebirds."

Embarrassed by the implementation of Alya's actions, Marinette continued focusing on Luka's nails.

Gently, she brushed the cotton pad over his thumb trying not to do something which would embarrass her further... like sneezing on him, or breathing too loudly.

"So, what are you looking forward to the most?"

Marinette jumped as Luka's breath hit her neck, her head colliding with his chin.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

The cotton pad fell from her hands as she scrambled around on her knees and noticed he was bleeding. Two teeth marks were clearly visible in his lower lip where they had punctured deeply. She stretched forward and grabbed another cotton pad, dunking it in the glass of water sitting on the table and placing it delicately against his bleeding lip.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He took control of the cotton pad from her hand and dabbed it a couple more times before pulling it away and licking his lower lip. The action was both sexy and mortifying at the same time.

What a way to make a first impression, Marinette!

"I'll be fine!" he muttered, his lip already starting to swell to double its size and only make her look at them more. She slammed her hands over her face.

"I'm a disaster."

"Maybe," Luka agreed. "But you're a pretty one."

Feeling her cheeks blush again, she removed her hands from her face and took a new piece of cotton wool, continuing to remove his nail polish. Maybe this wasn't going to be as painful as she expected... for her at least.

*****

Adrien closed down his phone after finishing reading the latest article on 'On Point' dance blog. He didn't know how the mysterious 'Rena Rouge' kept finding out information, but it just dug him deeper and deeper into a hole. How was he supposed to get out of this if the media kept bringing him back into the spotlight?

"Have you finished reading?" A stern voice echoed through the room, a demand etched in its tone non friendly or supportive.

"Yup," he sighed, pushing his phone back into his pocket.

"You understand how important this all is then? What you achieve in this will be fundamental for yourself and for the company. You need to remain focused; stand out in all classes and make sure you get a lead in the Christmas gala."

"Well, I'm not going to go into class being the worst, am I?" Adrien said, rubbing a hand over his face. His father may believe he's just been sitting on his ass for the past year and a bit, but he hasn't and to be honest he knew no one would match his skill within the class. He was more now. He was bigger and stronger, with a whole new development of muscle mass thanks to his independent training.

"You know what I mean, Adrien! And this attitude of yours needs to change. No one's going to want to partner with you if they see what a mess you've become, this family breeds winners."

"I thought I already had a partner for pas de deux?"

"I won't allow my gala to be ruined for you to throw your tantrum and try to prove a point."

Of course his father would be going back on his word. Why would he expect things to be different?

"Are we done now? I'd like to go and get ready for class."

"Go."

Gabriel slumped down in his chair, a hand coming to his brow and rubbing aggressively. Adrien looked at his father. They hadn't spent much time together since his mother's death, not that they were close before. But now, Adrien barely knew who he was looking at. The coldness scared him, making him feel more alone than ever.

"I miss her too, father. Everyday." Turning, he stormed out the room, grabbing his training bag on his way through.

Every step felt like wading through quicksand. The harsh, heavy realisation that going back into the studio meant he was going back to a place she wasn't going to be. She wouldn't be there anymore to come and watch him in class, she wouldn't comment on how his pas de chat was the best she'd ever seen, she wouldn't be there to tend to his sore arms and feet. He missed her every single moment of every single day. Her absence was a gaping hole in his life and just knowing that he was going back to what she called her 'home' killed him more than he liked to admit. He had nothing but this one opportunity, and he felt like his whole life was riding on it.

"Are you okay, Kid?" A hand grasped a hold of his shoulder, the height, and smell, a comfort to him.

"Hey, Plagg," Adrien greeted. His mentor and friend walked next to him as they made their way towards the rehearsal studio.

"You seem down. Is my class that bad?"

Adrien smiled, yet it didn't quite make it into a laugh. "It's terrible! When I found out I was with you again this year I almost walked out."

"The cheek!" Plagg said, mortified. Adrien finally cracked a small laugh, Plagg looking through he'd won the lottery.

"Listen, kid, I understand this is going to be hard for you. But just know I'm here for you if you need to talk. We'll get through it together. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"Thanks." Adrien moved in the direction of the bench outside the studio and sat down, placing his bag at his feet. It was still early, classes not starting for a while therefore keeping the corridors and studios empty - a perfect place to chat.

"Speak to me, we have time." Plagg could read him so well and he would forever be grateful for his arrival here 5 years previously.

"You sure you want to be seen with me? People will say you're playing favouritism."

Plagg shrugged. "Everyone knows who my favourite is..." He knocked his shoulder into Adrien's before continuing, "the girl who kept falling over."

Adrien laughed. "Yeah, she is something."

"She really is, and believe me when I say it's up to you to make sure she believes she belongs here. You need to protect that one from Chloé and Lila, they'll eat her alive."

"Maybe. But at the moment, I just need to make it through the class without crying. Eyes on the prize."

"Exactly," Plagg repeated. "Eyes on the prize, and looking over there, one of those girls is going to help you win it."

Adrien turned to look at the doorway, a group of girls and guys heading into the studio full of life and dreams, and he couldn't help but wonder if he actually had either. Right now, this felt like a chore, a means to survive and rebuild the relationship with his father.

He felt almost guilty knowing one of these girls was going to be stuck with him for the foreseeable future with only one of three outcomes occurring: they believe the rumours about him and his partners and see him as a key to their success, they believe the rumours about him and his partners and despise him, or he scares them off and he loses his shot at freedom.

The gang slowed down, stopping as they approached the bench outside the studio. All eyes on him. It was awkward, and all he wanted to do was turn around and run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

"Fantastic," Plagg said, standing up and clapping his hands together. "You're all here nice and early for warm ups. Amazing commitment which won't go amiss."

Plagg led them through into the studio, each giving Adrien an uncomfortable glance as they passed. He couldn't hold it against them, if he was in the same boat he'd be having a good look at the ballet prodigy too — he hated how he was perceived here.

He held himself back, knowing that if he went in there now he'd be expected to talk, to 'get to know them', to be one of them, and to be honest nothing sounded worse. He just wanted to get through the class without speaking to anyone, or being noticed. Like that was going to happen!

The ones trailing at the back greeted him as they passed. His own reply being a curt nod of his head... until it came to the last person, the last girl. It was the girl from the audition, the one who'd caught his eye.

"H-Hi," she said shyly.

He wasn't sure whether she was trying to play coy or if she was being genuine, but one thing he did know was the slight blush on her face wasn't going to cut it here. If she got tongue tied talking to him then she was placing a target on her back.

He looked her over. She was neat, prim and proper - but something was glistening under the lights. The fact she was shorter than the other girls gave him a perfect view of the top of her head and made him feel like a giant. On the plus side, she would be an easy dancer to lift. He glanced at her one last time before stretching out, his hand heading straight for her hair, her body flinching back at the movement.

"Can I?" he asked, the girl nodding in agreement. "You've got something ..."

Adrien grabbed hold of the glistening object which had caught his eye, removing a teaspoon from the side of her bun and releasing a load of stray hairs onto her face. How had nobody noticed it?

He held it between them, twisting and turning it in his fingers and watching it glint under the overhead lights. "You may want to check your hair in the mirror, Shortcake. It's a mess."

He handed over the spoon before collecting his bag and heading into the studio.

This was going to be a very long few months.