Marinette

  "So" I start, taking a sip of my soda. We sat at a table away from the dancing, hoping to warm up. I had refused to stay out in the cold longer then I had too. Paris is beautiful and all but I'd rather be inside then freeze.

  Chat looks up from his phone, his eyes lingering on my face before looking down and smiling. He clicks his phone off and turns it over on the table. Yet I noticed how he would continuously glance back at it. Although it may come off as him not wanting to communicate, I didn't think that was the case.

  "I'm sorry my lady. Family problems" he chuckles nervously, hand rubbing the back of his neck. I shook my head and smiled.

  "I get it. You can take care of it if you want. I don't mind" This time it was him who shook his head.

  "No it's fine. I would never pass up the chance to be with you bugaboo" He says sweetly. "Now, lets talk business"

  Raising an eyebrow, I take another sip of my drink. The coke, tasting more sugary then before, didn't fizz at all as it went down my throat. I make a face. It was flat.

  "The tournament is pretty simple. I've been in it what, three times I think–"

  I straighten, shocked. "Three times?! There one held every year! How old even are you!?"

  He ponders for a second, as if forgetting his age for a moment. "Turn 18 in 3 months"

  Which means he's been at this since he was 14. Of course I starting dancing at 13 but to enter the tournament every year. That's real commitment if I do say so myself.

  "And how old are you LB. I know it's rude to ask a lady her age, but it's only fair" He asks, grinning. I sigh deeply and cross my arms.

  Just telling someone my age was a challenge. The possibility of someone finding out who I really am is greater if they know my age. Looking up at the ceiling, I think about the pros and cons of telling Chat my age.

Cons:
• The chance of Chat getting closer to revealing my identity.
• Him making fun of me for being younger than him
• Might tell people

Pros:
• It will get Chat to shut up

  "Just turned 17" I state simply, comfortable in my decision to tell Chat. He breathes in a sigh of relief.

  "That's good. It would be weird if you were secretly a grandma" He laughs.

  It's when I crunch my soda can in my hand and give him a death stare does he stop laughing. He whimpers in fear, shielding himself from my raft. I groan and shake the coke that oozed onto my hands off.

  "Can you just continue explaining. I'm new to this competition shit"

  Giving me a 'Don't hurt me face', he finally continues.

  "The competition is completely at random. I heard rumors that it was starts next Friday, but after that, the matches are whenever. There was one year were there was two matches back to back!" He exclaims. By the look on his face, he was excited.

  "Wait so there's no schedule at all?! How would we know when there's a match?!"

  He smiles at my confusion. Picking up his phone, he scrolls through. His eyes light up when he's found what he's looking for. He hands me it and when I look at it, it showed a phone number.

  "Remember that number. And keep it as one of your contacts. When there's a match, you'll get a text message. Once you get it, you have to be there in exactly 15 minutes. No matter what"

  I gulp, "What if you don't get there on time?"

  He looks at me, eyes twinkling.

  "Your team is immediately disqualified from the tournament."

______________________

Authors Note -
  Longer chapter today. I'm getting better at posting chapter a lot more frequently so that good. 
  Also, I just published a story about Stranger Things. It's called "353 Days". If you were ever curious about what Mike told Eleven on all those calls, that's basically what the story is about. If your into Stranger Things, I'd check it out. It would mean a lot :)

-T