8. Chapter 8

Adrien and Marinette arrived at Rosalie Fashion together the next morning. They headed up to Marinette's cubicle right away and found that the alterations for Adrien's outfits weren't quite done yet.

"Another one of the pieces from the women's line had to practically be remade and that slowed down the sewing room," Emily reported from the cubicle next to Marinette's. She was checking the fit on a dress on a female model. "But I think they only have one more piece to finish altering for you and then they'll be done. It should be out in a few minutes."

Marinette elbowed Adrien and grinned teasingly at him. "Look, there's time for those jumping jacks."

"Jumping jacks?- oh." Adrien rolled his eyes at Marinette when he caught on. "Okay, I was kidding. One tart isn't going to make me gain any weight. I don't really need to do any jumping jacks."

"I wasn't joking. I don't want to have to alter these pants right before you walk for Fashion Week." Marinette was trying to sound stern, but Adrien could read her well enough that he could tell she was joking despite her claim otherwise. Her hands were planted on her waist and her eyes were sparkling. "Chop chop- or maybe I should say hop hop?"

Adrien obediently started jumping, grinning the entire time. Marinette might have been joking, but it was fun to play along. The other models and workers nearby were sending glances over at him and Marinette, but Adrien didn't particularly care. They could stare all they wanted, but it wouldn't change the fact that he was having fun.

"What are you doing?" Madam Rosalie asked as Adrien completed his twentieth jumping jack. He paused, grinning and not even remotely winded. "This does not sound like work over here."

"Marinette twisted my arm last night," Adrien reported, bouncing in place with a cheeky grin at Marinette, who suddenly looked a bit sheepish now that her boss was there. "She talked me into eating chocolate chip cookies before dinner and an almond tart thing after dinner, and so now I have to work them off so I fit into my clothes."

Marinette gave him a look. "You wanted to eat it, I could tell. It's not my fault that you somehow thought that one little treat would keep you from fitting into your clothes."

Adrien pretended an invisible force was twisting his arm. "My aaaaarm. It huuuuurts." He grinned and danced away as Marinette swatted at him. As soon as he was out of her reach, he started twisting him arm around again, making the most pained faces he could manage. Madam Rosalie was trying not to laugh as she watched them.

"You are being ridiculous," Marinette grumbled, lunging for him again. All traces of her former embarrassment were gone. She stumbled when he twisted out of her way. "Get back here so I can swat you!"

"Oh my god, you're practically an old married couple already," one of the passing interns groused. Adrien recognized her as one of the people who had helped out at the wedding photoshoot. It took a second for her words to sink in, and then both Adrien and Marinette flushed red.

"Don't tease them too much; the makeup people are supposed to drop by in a few minutes to match concealers and they can't do that if our models look like they've been turned into tomatoes." Madam Rosalie grinned at the two of them before dashing off again to make sure things were running smoothly elsewhere.

"They like teasing me," Marinette said with a sigh after a moment. Adrien turned back around to watch as she gave him a sheepish look. "Especially after the wedding thing. I'm sorry they're dragging you into it as well."

"It's fine," Adrien said, though his face was still flaming. "Hey, is that our rack of clothes?"

"It is!" Marinette said in delight as an unfamiliar woman rolled a rack down the middle of the aisle between the cubicles. "Oh, good, this won't take long then. I was worried it might."

"What do you have to do besides the fittings?" Adrien asked as the women left the rack next to them. "Are you in charge of packing things up?"

"Packing things up, checking them off, and loading things into the van to go over to our staging area in the backstage of the Fashion Week runway." Marinette pulled the rack into her cubicle, ushering Adrien in in front of her. "Ready?"

Adrien nodded, setting down his coat and pulling off his shirt in one smooth motion. "Which outfit am I wearing first?"

"The green jacket," Marinette said, pulling the outfit off of the hanger. "That's the first of your outfits, if I'm remembering correctly. Ah, yes- here's the order card. The green one's first-"

Marinette turned, caught sight of Adrien's chest, and froze.

"Like I said earlier, I don't think one tart is going to make me burst out of my runway clothes," Adrien said with a lopsided grin. He wasn't ripped, exactly- his muscles came from running and flipping around, not from lifting weights and doing pull-ups and push-ups- but he was lean and his muscles were obviously there. When Marinette's didn't respond, Adrien ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. Maybe he should have given her some warning. "Mari? You okay there?"

"Fine!" Marinette squeaked suddenly. "I'm fine- uh, the shirt!" She thrust it at him and Adrien took it, careful not to wrinkle the fabric. The pieces would no doubt get steamed or ironed once they got to the backstage area, but there was no point in creating extra work for the employees there. He shrugged the shirt on and buttoned it up quickly. Marinette flitted around him, tugging on the fabric and checking the fit. It was perfect, thankfully, so Marinette helped him into the jacket.

"Fits like a glove," Adrien said contentedly as Marinette triple-checked everything, giving little tugs here and there to make sure that things sat just right. "Good sign."

"Yeah, we have some great seamstresses," Marinette said as she dusted the jacket down and then started pulling it off of Adrien. "They're fabulous at alterations."

"You're the one who marked the alterations," Adrien reminded her. "Clearly you did a fabulous job as well, or they wouldn't have been able to do as well as they did." He started unbuttoning the buttons on the shirt as Marinette hung up the jacket. "One down, four to go."

They got past the second round of shirtlessness with only moderate blushing, and by the time Adrien shucked the last shirt (fitted to perfection, of course), Marinette's blush had mostly faded away.

Of course, it was very possible (or, rather, very probable) that they would have the exact same problem when he had to change pants during the runway show, but that was a problem for another day. Besides, it was completely possible that Adrien might get assigned to a different dresser for the show itself.

"You're finished," Marinette announced, tossing Adrien's t-shirt back to him. "Or at least you're finished in here. I think the makeup artist is sitting near the stairs, and they probably have a hair stylist over there as well."

"Will you be long?" Adrien asked, pulling his shirt on and only further messing up his hair. He tried to smooth it into place, but gave up after a second. It wasn't like it mattered if his hair was in place or not, considering that the hair stylist would probably redo it entirely.

"I shouldn't be. You don't have to wait, though-"

"I want to," Adrien said firmly, sending a smile in her direction. "I'll just leave my coat in here then, while I go check out makeup and hair."

"All right." Marinette was already busy carefully packing shirts, jackets, and pants into garment bags, double-checking the outfits against one of the style cards littering her desk. The back of the card had a photograph of the man Adrien could only assume was the injured model taped to it, showing the hairstyle and the makeup that had been picked out. Adrien would have to remember to ask for a photo of his own to replace the old one, or their work today would be for nothing.

Both makeup artist and stylist were right where Marinette had predicted they would be. It was a strange place- right in the middle of everything, and on a normal day there would be no way that they would be able to set up shop there without being in absolutely everyone's way- but it probably was so that the few models that were there could find it without any problem. They only had one person working on makeup and another single person doing hair and both seats were full, but it looked as though they were getting close to finished.

"Ah, you're the replacement I heard about!" The hair stylist called as Adrien approached. "Hang on a minute, we'll get to you soon."

Adrien nodded in acknowledgement and paused a few paces from the chairs, letting himself glance around the room. Emily was already leaving- she must have only had a couple looks to fit on her model- and the room had really gotten quiet. He wouldn't be surprised if he were the last model to finish fittings. After all, he had been a very last-minute replacement.

"All right, Adrien, come on up," the makeup artist called as the model that had previously been sitting in the chair got up and headed the few steps over to wait for hair to free up. "We'll get you done in a jiffy."

Adrien flashed him a smile and settled in the chair. He kept his eyes closed as the man flitted around him, applying foundation and concealer. A light dusting of powder was next. Adrien watched the makeup artist in the mirror as he highlighted Adrien's cheekbones and then applied a few things around Adrien's eyes, making them pop just a little more.

"That looks good, Adrien," Madam Rosalie said, appearing from the stairwell. "Did everything fit this time around?"

"Like a glove," Adrien assured her as the makeup artist stepped away to let Madam Rosalie inspect his work. "Marinette is just getting everything put away now."

"Good, good." Madam Rosalie glanced around the empty area. "We'll be done here soon. Oh, and I was wondering, how do you want me to pay you for your work? My regular models all have accounts set up, of course, but it's hardly worth the effort for a one-time thing."

"Oh! You don't have to pay me," Adrien said quickly. To be perfectly honest, he hadn't even thought about it. His father had always had an account set up for him and his modelling wages went directly there whenever he modelled for Gabriel or was hired out on a photoshoot for another company. He really wasn't in need of the money from one runway show and really, he was just doing it for Marinette.

"Oh, but I must," Madam Rosalie insisted. "You are doing work for us, after all, and before I used you in the wedding ad without proper compensation or prior warning. If you try to argue, I will simply wire the payment to your father's secretary to direct into your account."

Adrien couldn't help but laugh. Madam Rosalie was certainly stubborn. "If it's not a problem, that would probably be easiest. I'm not entirely certain how to deposit checks in my account. Nathalie has always taken care of that before."

Madam Rosalie made a note on the tablet she held under her arm. "Very well. I'll do that by the end of next week. Have a good weekend, Adrien, and don't slack off on your skincare routine!"

"Have a good weekend!" Adrien called back as Madam Rosalie took off down the hallway.

"Hair is open," the makeup artist announced, drawing Adrien's attention back to him. "And your makeup is done. Don't forget to get your picture taken for the style card."

"Thank you," Adrien said, nodding politely to the man as he moved to the newly vacated chair. The hairstylist got to work on his hair right away, brushing it down before tugging it this way and that. Adrien knew full well that his hair was a bit longer than the hair on most male models and that could make it difficult to style in anything except his normal style. The stylist was experimentally pulling his hair back from his forehead, examining how he looked in the mirror with his hair pulled back tightly verses with a light swoop. Adrien let his eyes close as the man experimented with different variations of the hairstyle for a few minutes, going back to the same one more and more often. Satisfied at last, the stylist squeezed some gel onto his hands and started his work. Adrien sat like a statue until the stylist was finished.

"Your hair is a little longer than I would like, but it still looks good," the stylist said, taking a step back and regarding his work. "Uh, I don't know how long it's been since you've done a runway, since I know you're a sub, but don't forget to wash your hair either the night before or the morning of, and don't put any products in your hair-"

"Jeremy, that's Adrien Agreste," the makeup artist hissed to him. "I'm sure he knows how to prepare for a runway!"

Adrien pretended that he didn't notice as the stylist flushed. He flashed an easy smile for the styling card photo, and then he got sent on his way with the instant photo.

"Oh, good timing," Marinette said when Adrien reappeared in her cubicle. She had already packed everything up. Her eyes fell on the photo Adrien was holding and she reached for it. "Is that for the style card?"

"Yup." Adrien handed it over and then flashed a grin at Marinette. "No comments about how fabulous I look? I'm hurt, Mari."

The rest of the weekend went by in a flash. Adrien and Marinette went to the Science Museum and to the park. Marinette occasionally would get a far-off look in her eyes as she fretted over one thing or another, and then Adrien would have to pull her back before she could worry too much. They both enjoyed their weekend, and then it was Monday.

"At least Madam Rosalie's shows are all today," Adrien said as he and Marinette took an early bus over to the venue. They both had gone to bed early so that they would be wide awake for their five a.m. wakeup call. "Then it's over and done with and you can enjoy the other shows."

"She got lucky," Marinette admitted. "That, and her business is one of the larger ones in London, so they wanted well-known names on the first couple days. Normally she has her part of the show on Tuesday or Wednesday, but she's early this year. It's better for us, since then we can spend the rest of the week looking at other shows instead of only getting the tail end of the week like they did last year."

"Do you get passes for the other shows?" Adrien asked as the bus pulled over to pick up another person. "Because I did, and if you didn't, you can definitely get my passes for the shows you want to go to."

"All of the interns got passes," Marinette assured him. "Just like the regular employees. And then we have the whole week off once we get done with our show, since Madam Rosalie thinks that it's important that we be exposed to different styles for inspiration. I'm not interested in all of the shows, but there are a bunch that look interesting."

"Which ones aren't you interested in?" Adrien asked curiously as the new passenger boarded and the doors closed again.

"There's a couple smaller designers near the end of the week that...well, their aesthetics are kind of out there," Marinette said with a grimace. "And their clothes... well, apparently someone buys them, but I don't know who."

Adrien cackled at that. "Harsh," he commented, still snickering even as Marinette gave him a pout. "I don't think I've ever heard you say anything bad about anyone's designs before."

"I just don't understand their designs," Marinette said with a slight whine. "They aren't flattering, the patterns they use don't go together, and they just have weird proportions. And they're not even supposed to be avant-garde. They're supposed to be streetwear and they look absolutely ridiculous."

"I've very glad that my dad designs normal stuff," Adrien admitted as the bus approached their stop. "There are definitely some designs that I wouldn't have been comfortable modelling, especially when I was younger. I would have felt absolutely ridiculous and uncomfortable and the photos would have turned out awful." He paused to think about it for a second. "...actually, I would still feel absolutely ridiculous and uncomfortable with a lot of those pieces.

"Yeah," Marinette said, and then she yawned. Adrien watched with some amusement as she struggled to close her mouth again.

"Maybe I should go get coffee for you," Adrien suggested as the bus pulled over at their stop. He got up and then pulled Marinette to her feet before grabbing his bag and handing Marinette her own purse. "Models don't need to arrive for another half hour. There's a shop a block over that looks like it should be good."

"That would be great," Marinette admitted as they left the bus and stepped down onto the sidewalk. "I'm sure I'll wake up eventually, but right now it's dark outside and my brain is saying that it's sleepy time."

Adrien laughed.

It took a little longer than Adrien had anticipated to get coffee- apparently more than a few designers had had the same idea and sent interns or relatives to go grab a cup for them- but once he got Marinette's regular order, Adrien speedwalked back to the closest Fashion Week backstage entrance.

"Aren't you getting one for yourself?" Plagg asked as Adrien walked. The kwami squirmed, pushing his head partway out of Adrien's jacket. "Aren't you tired, too?"

"Drinking coffee before runway shows makes me jittery and ill. I'd rather not go through this feeling like I need to throw up." Adrien rounded the corner, poking Plagg back into his pocket as he did so nobody would see him. "By the time our runway show starts I'll be awake."

"D'you think that the model you replaced had any other designers he was walking for?"

Adrien paused for a moment, thinking. He knew full well that other models sometimes- no, not sometimes, often- walked for multiple designers. They couldn't do sequential shows, since hair had to be re-styled and makeup washed off and redone and all of that took time, but more than one a day and several over the course of a week wasn't at all uncommon. The model probably had left several designers scrambling for a fill-in, but at this point they had probably all found someone or dropped the looks completely.

"Probably," Adrien told Plagg, continuing on his way towards the door. "Not my problem, though. I want to be able to sit back and-"

"Enjoy the other shows with your wife, I know, I know," Plagg drawled. He cackled, knowing full well Adrien couldn't retaliate with other people around. Adrien contented himself with a brief scowl before he flashed his backstage pass at the door guards and entered the bustling area. There were frantic designers ordering people around, hair stylists and makeup artists setting up their stations, models swarming around, people with regular and video cameras dodging back and forth between the madness...

Wait. What?

Adrien frowned and headed forward, dodging a few more photographers. He'd seen people taking pictures backstage before- there were always some artful pictures of models getting their hair done and lining up to walk that ended up in the paper after the Paris Fashion Week- but never in this number. There were definitely some reporters as well, and some of them were ones Adrien recognized as being from tabloids. Nerves suddenly surged into his stomach.

He wouldn't trust those kinds of people to watch his bag for three minutes. He definitely didn't trust them to not snap a picture of him when he was in the middle of changing and then immediately turn around and sell the photo to some dodgy magazine.

"Maybe they'll clear out once the show starts," Plagg suggested. "It'll be more interesting out there compared to in here, after all."

"I hope so," Adrien said. He rolled up onto his toes, searching for Madam Rosalie's section of the backstage. It didn't take long to find- since Madam Rosalie had her shows in the morning, it was already bustling- and then Adrien was making a beeline for it. He spotted Marinette as he ducked to avoid a camera, so he waved to her until she spotted him. His footsteps picked up as he practically jogged over to meet her.

"What's with all of the photographers back here?" Adrien asked with a frown as soon as he reached Marinette. It was just strange. And then his eye caught on another strange thing- dark curtains hanging over the entrances to the dressing areas. "And the curtains? What's going on?"

"Somebody's doing a documentary of Fashion Week and wanted backstage footage," Marinette said with a sigh. "And since they're all over and there might be a few people in here that we don't trust, we got curtains to put up to protect our models' privacy while they change."

That was a relief. But... "Doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose of a documentary?" Adrien asked. "If they can't see what's going on?"

"Some of the other presenters were fine with it. Madam Rosalie thought that the photographers would get underfoot. The hair and makeup area is open to reporters, but not the changing area. They're supposed to be getting shots of people lining up and whatnot anyway, not pictures of people getting dressed." Marinette shrugged. "And it makes our models more comfortable. They're fine changing in front of other people, they just don't want to, y'know..."

"Have it immortalized on tape," Adrien finished. That was very much how he felt. He was very grateful that Madam Rosalie had taken the models' feelings into account. From what he had heard before, there were some designers that sort of assumed that models were meant to be comfortable with anything- including his own father, at least when Adrien wasn't the model in question. Maybe it was just how Adrien was raised, but in his experience, that was not how models felt.

"Adrien, there's a chair open in hair right now," Madam Rosalie called over the noise of the backstage. "Drop your things over here and go there right away, if you would."

"I can take your stuff," Marinette offered, holding out her arms. "I need to get over to the dressing areas, after all."

Adrien handed her coffee to her first, then set his bag down on the floor so he could shed his jacket. He caught sight of Plagg diving into a pocket, presumably to sleep for several more hours, as he set the jacket down on top of his bag. He handed both to Marinette and headed off, preparing to be prodded and poked for the next few hours.

Yeah, he hadn't missed this at all.

As Adrien was getting the last touches done on his makeup, Madam Rosalie showed up again. She was carrying her tablet again and was directing models to workers and interns alike to get dressed. Adrien suddenly felt nervous- he only knew a couple of Marinette's coworkers, what would he do if he didn't recognize the name of his dresser? It had happened before at one of his father's shows and it had been downright embarrassing. He had been left standing around like an idiot, looking around for someone who looked like they might be looking for him.

"Ah, Adrien! That look really suits you." Madam Rosalie appeared by his side, grinning as she took in his appearance. She gave his shoulder a pat. "I came over to tell you that your dresser is Marinette. She's the one who did your fittings, so she's the most familiar with your outfits." She smiled at him and then bounded off to chase down a senior designer before Adrien could say anything.

"Isn't that your friend?" the makeup artist asked. The older woman looked puzzled. "Normally Madam Rosalie doesn't let friends and couples work together for runway shows. They end up getting distracted and giggling together."

"It's probably since I've only ever worked with Marinette," Adrien said, but that sounded lame even to his ears. He had worked as a model for nearly all of his life; even if he had only worked with Marinette at Madam Rosalie's company, he was no stranger to being dressed by people he had met only minutes before. Madam Rosalie would know that. Marinette had no doubt dressed other people before. There really was no reason to treat him differently from any other model.

Shaking himself, Adrien got out of the makeup chair, thanking the artist before he headed to the dressing area. He didn't miss the way several camera-toting reporters suddenly caught sight of him, whispering among themselves as they swung their cameras to follow him.

Yeah, he was definitely glad that Madam Rosalie had invested in the curtains.

Marinette was adjusting a long, embroidered coat over another model's shoulders when Adrien spotted her. He trotted over, dodging around other models in the middle of getting dressed. A seamstress was hurrying for one of the already-dressed male models, needle and thread in her hand. Something must have torn already.

"Runway in half an hour, everyone!" someone called, and Adrien jumped. Was it really already nearly time to start? He had known that he had had to wait for forever to get a chair in makeup and teasing his hair into just the right hairstyle had taken a bit, but clearly it had taken longer than he had thought. He and Mari had arrived around six thirty- well, a bit after for him, because of the coffee run- and it was already nearly nine.

At least his portion of the runway would be over soon.

The other model stepped away from Marinette with a nod, heading towards the dressing area to join the queue of dressed models outside. Adrien trotted forward to join Marinette before any other models that might be assigned to her could take up her time.

"Hey, Adrien!" Marinette said, beaming up at him as he joined her. "So I hear I'm your dresser for the day?"

"Yup." Adrien started unbuttoning his shirt as Marinette reached for the rack, triple-checking the order card before pulling the first dress shirt off of its hanger. He set the shirt aside and reached down to untie his shoes and pull off his socks before tugging on the socks that Madam Rosalie had provided. Marinette pulled the button-up onto Adrien and started doing it up for him, fingers flying as she worked.

"Yo, Agreste, are you wearing the right kind of underthings this time around, or do we need to go run another errand?" Emily called over to them, making both Adrien and Marinette blush. Several other models glanced over at them curiously, either because of the comment or because they had recognized Adrien's last name.

"Don't you worry about it, Emily," Marinette called back, recovering before Adrien did. "Keep your eyes on your own models."

"How am I supposed to do that when your model is so pretty?" Emily teased, wriggling her eyebrows at Adrien. She smirked when he only blushed more and opened her mouth to say more when a senior designer cut her off.

"Focus on your work, everyone! Now is not the time to be messing around!"

"Thank god for Mrs. Kelly," Marinette said with a sigh as she took the pants off of the hanger and turned to Adrien. He watched her for a second, confused, then realized that she was waiting for him to shed his jeans. He fumbled for the button and then undid the zipper, kicking his way out of his jeans before quickly pulling on the pants Marinette was offering him. They fit perfectly- not that he had ever been worried about it, even with the cookies and the almond tart. He pulled on his shoes, and then Marinette was pulling on his jacket and straightening it with a few sharp tugs before sending him on his way.

More workers steered Adrien into his place in the line of models. Stylists and makeup artists prowled up and down the line, checking people's looks against their style cards. Several workers, done dressing models with their first looks, waited nearby to move a curtained off changing tent closer to the runway entrance. Others stood nearby with racks of clothing, labelled with numbers and models' names.

It was very organized, but there was so much going on that it felt deceivingly chaotic.

The show before theirs ended, and their models were shuttled away as the lighting and music were reset. There was a short break, and then the line of models was moving forward, ready to start walking. Madam Rosalie bustled past, and then a minute later Adrien could hear her voice, muffled by the walls, introducing the first part of her show. There was applause, the music started, and one by one models were sent out onto the runway.

Adrien was fifth in line, and he took a deep breath before heading out. It really had been forever since his last runway show and he definitely was feeling a little nervous. He reminded himself that people wouldn't be looking at him, they were looking at the clothes. Most people in London probably wouldn't even be that likely to recognize him. There was no need to feel nervous.

He stepped onto the runway.

The light blinded him for a moment but he couldn't flinch, couldn't turn away. All he could do was keep walking forward until finally, finally the light gave way to a more reasonable level so Adrien could actually see where he was going. He strode forward confidently, mentally counting his paces and trying not to hurry too much.

A powerwalk was one thing, looking like he was trying to escape was another.

Adrien paused at the end of the catwalk, doing a couple poses so the photographers there could get their shots, and then spun and headed back up the walk, passing a model going in the opposite direction. He paused again to pose at the top of the runway before exiting.

"All right, next outfit!" Suddenly Marinette was right there, guiding Adrien to the curtained-off changing area that had been hastily pushed into place. There weren't individual rooms for each model- doing so would take too much time and would just add another layer of unnecessary confusion - but at least it kept them from the prying eyes of the press and their cameras.

"This is insane," Marinette breathed as Adrien shucked his shirt and pulled on the one she was offering. She hung the first one on a hanger and added it to the rack of clothes that had already walked before grabbing the pants and jacket that were supposed to go with the shirt. Her eyes flicked to the ceiling as Adrien dropped his pants (that was never going to stop being awkward) and then returned to him once he pulled on the new set. She tucked in his shirt neatly while Adrien pulled the jacket on (more awkward, and they still had to do this three more times), and then she was adjusting the jacket and fixing his hair before shoving him back into line and reaching for the next model to help. A makeup artist made sure nothing had smeared (it hadn't) and that Adrien wasn't sweating too much (not yet), and then he was right back out onto the runway.

He definitely hadn't missed doing this. Nope, not at all, definitely not.

With the next round, the makeup artist had to blot away a bit of sweat on Adrien's brow and the hair stylists had to spray a chunk of his hair back into place before he went back out. The last two changes went smoothly, and then Marinette was helping him track down his street clothes to change back into so she could pack everything up to get back to their building. They still had another runway- men's fashion had been before women's fashion, and Madam Rosalie had opted to have a space between them since there were so many pieces for each- so Marinette would still be working for a bit.

"Do you want me to go pick up sandwiches?" Adrien asked as he buttoned up his own shirt and straightened it almost automatically before reaching for his bag and jacket. "I have a backstage pass since I'm a model, I can leave and come back in just fine."

Marinette bit her lip. "We aren't supposed to eat near the dresses, but..." She looked really tempted. "I shouldn't, really."

"Take a short break and eat away from the clothes, then," Adrien suggested, frowning when he heard Marinette's stomach growl. He was pretty certain that she hadn't had much for breakfast and while neither had he (it wouldn't do for a model to eat too much and look bloated on the runway), he at least could leave now and eat anything he wanted. Marinette didn't have that luxury. "You won't be working to your full potential if you start getting dizzy from hunger. And have you filled your water bottle recently?"

"I've been meaning to," Marinette said, biting her lip. "But it seems that I can't step away from the staging area, even for a moment."

"Give me your bottle, then, and I'll fill it and bring it back to you before I get sandwiches." Adrien knew full well how focused Marinette could get and how she could forget to take care of herself when she was on a roll. It kind of reminded him of how Alya got when she was reporting on him and Ladybug- no consideration for eating, or time, or even danger. "Then you don't have to step away and you won't get dehydrated. You won't be able to enjoy all of the other shows if you're feeling bad."

"You're the best, Adrien," Marinette said with a grateful smile. She reached behind herself and grabbed a pale pink water bottle off of the shelf. "I don't know where a fountain might be, though."

"I'll find something," Adrien promised, taking the bottle. He checked his coat to make sure he still had his wallet and backstage pass (and Plagg, who was somehow still sleeping despite the noise). He looped the pass around his neck. "I'll be right back."

As it turned out, it wasn't hard at all to find a water fountain. All Adrien had to do was ask one of the security people wandering around and he got pointed in the right direction. He noticed with no small amount of irritation that he had a photographer following him, snapping photos of Adrien as he refilled the water bottle.

...well, somebody obviously had to get a life.

He was tailed all the way back to Madam Rosalie's area. Adrien breathed out a sigh of relief as he ducked behind the curtain into the dressing area and finally lost the photographer. He really hated paparazzi taking pictures of him when he was out doing normal things and just living his life. He could understand it when he was modelling or out doing appearances with his father, but for anything else? It was just invasive and rude.

The dressing area had been reset rather quickly. The racks of men's looks had been pushed to the back and covered, and the women's looks brought out and set up. The first of the female models were already coming in from hair and makeup, ready to be dressed. Adrien spotted Marinette near the back, steering what looked to be the last rack of clothing into place along the wall.

"I got your bottle," Adrien announced as soon as Marinette got the rack where she wanted it and had a moment to breathe. He handed the pink bottle over as soon as Marinette turned to him. "What kind of sandwich do you want?"

"Something light," Marinette said as she went back to the area that was apparently her station. Adrien followed. "I know I'm not the one going out there and presenting or anything, but I'm still jittery and I don't think anything heavy would help."

"Okay. Any other requirements?"

"Not messy, definitely," Marinette said after a moment's consideration. "I don't want to be spilling on anything. So no sauces."

"A veggie wrap then, perhaps?" Adrien suggested. "And something a touch more filling for after you've finished?"

"That would be perfect," Marinette said with a grin. She jumped as another model entered the room. "Oh, I need to go! The models are going to start coming in en mass soon."

"Don't get too stressed," Adrien called over his shoulder as he turned to leave the area. He found himself having to dodge around several entering models to avoid running into them, and then he was weaving his way through the milling crowd, trying to avoid anyone he might know- or, more likely, to avoid people who knew of him and who might want to try to strike up a conversation that would eventually lead to them trying to worm their way into getting a job with his father. It took nearly ten minutes to reach the door, and then Adrien found himself barely inching along on crowded sidewalks. Fashion fans from all over the city and beyond were hanging around the building, trying to catch a glance of designers, celebrities, and models.

Adrien winced and wished he had thought to bring along a pair of sunglasses and a hat. They weren't much of a disguise, but his styled bright blond hair had a tendency to catch people's attention.

It took nearly half an hour for Adrien to fight his way to the sandwich shop and then order wraps for himself and Marinette. He got four instead of two, since both he and Marinette would no doubt be ravenous again come mid-afternoon but would be far too busy to go out again to get more food to eat, and he picked up a couple apples and a handful of cookies as well. Fighting his way back to the backstage door took even longer, which meant that Madam Rosalie's last show would already be wrapping up. That was a pity- he had rather hoped to see some of Marinette's creations walking- but he had foreseen this happening and had set his TV to record all of the Fashion Week shows that were being televised. They could watch them together later, when things weren't quite so frantic. Adrien ate his first wrap while he walked, partly because he was hungry and partly because he knew he might end up helping put things away while Marinette ate. He tucked a few bits of cheese into his jacket for Plagg on the way.

The crowds inside seemed positively light after the absolute mountain of people outside, and Adrien breathed out a sigh of relief as he strode forward. He hated moving along at a snail's pace and even though he had to dodge all kinds of people in the backstage area, it was already eons better.

As Adrien had predicted, Madam Rosalie's show was finishing up and the models were heading back to the changing area to get back into their streetwear. He had to stand back and wait as models streamed past, first in their last runway looks and then in the opposite direction, wearing whatever they had come in. Some were wearing their coats- evidently they were done for the day- while others hurried off to other areas of the backstage to join other designers. Adrien patiently waited as the stream of models turned into a trickled before he entered the dressing room.

"Hey, Agreste is back," Emily called as she tucked a dress into a garment bag. "Marinette!"

"Hey, Adrien!" Marinette called. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a pile of shoes and shoe boxes. "Over here!"

"You look busy," Adrien said with a grin as he joined her. "That's a lot of shoes."

"No kidding. I just finished doing all of the men's shoes." Marinette leaned back on her hands with a sigh. "But we need to get this space cleared out soon so another designer can set up."

"I can do that while you eat," Adrien offered. He plopped down on the ground and reached for a pair of shoes. The models had at least managed to keep their shoes together instead of tangling them in a giant pile. Most of them had about the same size feet, so it was no big problem to find a box for the size six shoes he held.

Marinette looked torn. "I should really finish this first..."

"Then I'll just help you finish this faster," Adrien decided. He reached for another pair of shoes and boxed them, starting a pile next himself of boxed shoes. With the two of them working, the pile of shoes dwindled and vanished in almost no time. The packed boxes then went onto a cart, which they rolled out to the waiting van, and only then could Marinette eat her wrap.

"Are all of the racks packed up?" Marinette asked mid-bite.

"Yes, the last one just got rolled away," Adrien assured her. "We're good. They're taking down the curtains and the signs now, see?" He grinned. "Anyone would think that you're the one running the show with the amount you're stressing yourself out."

Marinette huffed out a laugh and let herself relax against his side as she ate. "I just want to do a good job. I really want to have Madam Rosalie as a reference for future jobs, and if I even want to consider asking for an extension of my internship, I can't accidentally run off and not finish helping clean up after a show."

"You're good, everything is cleaned up," Adrien assured her. "But if you want to get into the next show, it starts in fifteen minutes and we probably want to get up there soon before all of the seats are gone."

Marinette nodded and took another bite. As she ate, Adrien guided her towards the audience entrance with one hand on her back. She finished eating just as they reached the door and were ushered inside.

"I feel like I should have dressed up more," Marinette said a little breathlessly as an usher pointed them to a couple of the few remaining seats. "All of these famous designers here..."

"But it would have been hard to dress people as fast as you did if you were wearing a fancy dress," Adrien finished. "Maybe you can dress up more on other days. Do you have outfits in mind?"

"Oh, yes. I picked them out forever ago." Marinette reached the seats and scooted into the row, leaving Adrien in the aisle seat. He settled next to her. "Two skirt and shirt combos and three dresses. I would have brought more, but there was only so much I could fit in my suitcase."

"Have I seen them before?"

Marinette shook her head. "No. I've been saving them for special events."

"I'll do your hair," Adrien volunteered. "One of the stylists at my dad's company taught me how to do some stuff last year and I'm not awful at it."

That got a giggle out of Marinette as she shifted to a more comfortable position in her chair. "Such enthusiasm over your own talents. You aren't awful at it."

Adrien just shrugged and grinned. He wasn't bad at all, really, but he wasn't going to claim that he was good and then make a fool of himself in front of Marinette when he screwed up a braid because he'd forgotten how to do it.

The lights dimmed and the audience quieted. The next presenting designer stepped out on the runway to introduce his line, and Adrien sat back in his chair, letting his mind and eyes wander. He had never been particularly interested in the stories behind runway lines, mostly because he never could quite see the connection. Marinette seemed enthralled, though, and she had already pulled out her sketchbook and opened it to a blank page, ready in case she was hit by a burst of inspiration. Adrien watched her as the music started and the first looks stepped onto the runway. Marinette's face had always been so expressive, and now was no exception. Adrien could tell when she was interested by a look, and it was equally obvious when she was bored or unimpressed by a piece. Twice she was clearly inspired by something, and for a few frantic seconds she scribbled in her sketchbook, trying to capture the piece or drawing her own variation on it.

"That was great," Marinette breathed as the show ended and the lights came back on. She turned to Adrien with a grin. "Wasn't that fabulous? I really liked the sixth look, and that skirt with all of the shimmery embroidery on it, that was really great. The way it caught the light was just fabulous."

...Adrien could not honestly say that he 100% knew which looks Marinette was talking about. He had been a little distracted. He had glanced out at the runway a few times, of course, but.

Well.

He'd been to more than a few runway shows before. He had been around fashion for ages. He could enjoy it- he did enjoy it- but watching someone else who got so absorbed by the show was just so much more enjoyable than paying strict attention to the runway itself.

"You don't have to come to the shows with me if you don't want to, Adrien," Marinette said after a too-long moment of silence on his end. "I know you've been to runway shows since forever and this is your break, so if you want to be doing something else-"

"I want to go to the shows," Adrien assured her hastily. "I do enjoy them, really. You were just so into it that I got distracted."

Marinette flushed bright red, which Adrien didn't quite understand. "Distracted? B-by me?"

"You're very expressive when you're focused. It's fun to watch." She stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth when she got really focused, just like he sometimes did. Adrien was willing to bet that he probably didn't look half as cute when he did that. Plagg had always told him that he looked like a dweeb when he stuck out his tongue while focusing.

"R-really?"

"Yup." Adrien grinned at the expression on her face. When she just continued to stare, Adrien's grin dropped. "I can stop if you don't want me staring. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Marinette jumped and blinked, then shook her head. "No, no, it's fine. I just didn't expect it."

"You sure?"

"Positive." Marinette shifted in her seat, biting her lip. Adrien was going to ask her if she was positive that she was positive when her eyes shifted to the Fashion Week schedule that was sitting on her open notebook. "But are you sure you really want to spend your whole break watching fashion shows?"

Adrien grinned. So that was what Marinette was worried about. "It's not my whole break. I had last weekend, and then next weekend, and if there are any chunks of time when there aren't any shows or presentations that you want to see, we could wander around the city or something. Besides, I wouldn't really be doing anything if I wasn't hanging with you."

"I think Friday afternoon should be free," Marinette said, examining the schedule she held. She struck out a couple events right away. "I should look up these designers tonight. I know what I want to see today, but I'm not 100% certain about the rest of the week."

"That's fine," Adrien assured her. "Just don't, y'know, forget that we do need to find time to eat at some point during the day. I know there's a lot to see, but I'm not going to carry you around if you pass out of hunger. Speaking of which-" he dug in his bag and brought out two more sandwiches. "Want anything to eat before the next show starts?

Marinette positively lit up. "You're the best, Adrien!"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review, it really makes my day :)

(also aaaaaay I wasn't late getting this out! My computer has been in the shop for the last three days and I wasn't positive that I was going to get it back today or not. But it is back and the fans actually work now without sounding like drones huzzah)

Quick note about updates over the holidays- I'm going to be at my grandma's house for, like, a week, and I don't actually know if she has working internet or not (she used to share with her neighbor, who just died this past fall, and she has definitely complained about having issues with the internet since then). If not, then I'll just try to post as soon as I get home.