9. Chapter 9

As it turned out, the dresses weren't the only things that the tabloids noticed. There were more than a few pictures of Adrien and Marinette at Fashion Week popping up in the racks in the grocery check-out lines. Some were taken out of context- seemingly intimate photos of Marinette standing close to Adrien and adjusting his lapels before he went on the runway, him giving her encouraging pats on the shoulder, both of them ducking into the changing rooms. The headlines made him blush- Model gets cozy with intern and Romance behind the scenes at London Fashion Week? and Agreste heir finds love?. When Adrien worked up the courage to flip to the article while they waited in line at the grocery check-out, he could tell that more than a little attention had been paid to the fact that he was a last-minute sub in the show. There was a lot of speculation about why the other model had been replaced by him, and most of it involved claims that his father had disowned him (insert photo of his father looking angry; Adrien suspected that they hadn't had to look particularly hard for that kind of picture), so he needed money for his "rebellious" dash to freedom in a physics program in London and his "girlfriend" had set him up with a modelling contract so he could pay for a lifestyle that would no doubt continue spiraling downwards with more rebellious acts such as drinking, smoking, and partying hard.

Yeah, it was a bit of a stretch, especially when they could have done a bit of research and found that the other model was still laid up with a broken leg.

"Oh, there's the wedding photoshoot pictures," Marinette said as they cooked dinner together that evening, and Adrien looked up to see Marinette looking through another magazine. Her colleagues (and Madam Rosalie) had found and bought pretty much every tabloid that had mentioned them and had come stampeding over earlier that afternoon to offload them on Marinette. According to her, they had been grinning deviously when they presented the giant pile to her. "This one's claiming we secretly eloped and used the photoshoot as a cover so your father wouldn't find out."

Adrien snorted and paged through his own magazine. rolling his eyes at the ridiculous jumps in logic that the writers were making. He could see how writers might have thought that he was dating someone if he showed up with a girl on his arm out of the blue, but Marinette had been his friend for forever. It was hardly strange for him to hang out with a friend.

As expected, Adrien got called by his father later that night. Gabriel wasn't furious, which made Adrien guess that Nathalie had already done some damage control (he owed her, like, a dozen boxes of gourmet chocolates), but he wasn't happy that Adrien had ended up in one tabloid, never mind nearly a dozen.

"Like I told you before, the previous model was injured and I just happened to be the right size and walk into the building about ten minutes after they got the call that he wouldn't be able to make it," Adrien explained. "So that's why they didn't call the agency up. And of course I couldn't say no, Madam Rosalie is a friend of yours and mom's, and Marinette is my friend. I couldn't just leave them hanging."

"Yes, yes, I know that," Gabriel said impatiently. Adrien could hear the sound of his father's fingers tapping impatiently on his desk on the other end of the line. "The pre-runway show photos I can understand easily enough. But then they have pictures of you and the girl attached at the hip during the rest of Fashion Week. Arriving together, walking around to presentations together, sitting together during runway shows-"

"It is customary for people to spend time together when they're friends," Adrien said dryly, trying to not let too much sarcasm slip into his voice. "I don't really know people there, and Marinette couldn't really track down her coworkers in the crowd. Besides, we enjoy hanging out with each other."

Gabriel snorted. "They have photos of you wrapping your suit jacket around Marinette and then practically hanging all over her. And kissing her, no less."

"On the cheek," Adrien clarified helpfully. He frowned slightly- he hadn't spotted that photo. It must have been in one of the magazines that he hadn't looked through yet.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"The show area was a bit on the chilly side Thursday morning," Adrien explained, figuring that this was no time to joke around. Of course, with his father, there was really never a good time to joke around. "Marinette was shivering and the button-up I was wearing under my suit jacket was on the heavy side, so I gave her the jacket. And then I was a little cold, so cuddling was an obvious choice."

There was a long, exasperated sigh on his father's end of the line. "And the kiss?"

"We're French. Cheek kisses are a thing that exists." He and Marinette had been messing around, teasing each other before the runway show started. Marinette had been pretending to complain about Adrien hanging all over her and so he had nuzzled her neck in retaliation before pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek. She had only laughed more and pushed him away with a finger on his nose. It had been fun at the time, being able to tease each other freely like he often did with Ladybug when he was Chat Noir, but maybe Adrien should have known that there would be photographers nearby who weren't only interested in the clothes.

It was a pain being semi-famous, really. There had been a duo straight-up making out before one of the shows a few rows behind them and they hadn't had their pictures splashed all over the tabloids, yet a little cuddling on Adrien's part and suddenly it was some kind of Big Deal.

Gabriel let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You know that's not the way the tabloids saw it. You aren't a child anymore; you need to consider how others might interpret your actions. I suppose there's no real way to prevent the tabloids from twisting things, but do at least try to keep from doing anything that would give them real ammunition."

Adrien was sorely tempted to say "aww, so I'm not allowed to spiral into a life of drinking, smoking, and partying hard?" but he suspected that his father probably wouldn't be particularly amused.

"Of course," Adrien said instead.

"You may get approached by gossip 'reporters' because of these pieces." The disdain in Gabriel's voice was clear. "Nathalie is sending you a list of ones that won't twist your words quite as much as others will. You only need to talk with one to get things straightened out."

Personally, Adrien didn't particularly care if things got straightened out. It wasn't as though the tabloids were trying to say hurtful things about him- Marinette was his friend, after all, and anyone would be lucky to date her- and it wasn't as thought their words actually affected his life. Still, it was probably better just to do what his father wanted. If his father wanted him to give the tabloids the real story and explain that he and Marinette were just friends, then that was what he would do. They could save the snuggling for movie nights in their apartment when they didn't have other people over.

(Plagg would still tease him about it, but it was better than getting a lecture from his father.)

"Is he angry?" Marinette asked as the call ended and Adrien set his phone down with a sigh. She wandered back into the living room and flopped down to join him on the couch. "The articles weren't your fault."

"He's not happy, that's for sure," Adrien said with a grimace. "He said that he understood the pictures that were during the run-up to Madam Rosalie's runway show, but all of the ones during the rest of Fashion Week..."

"But those were just of us sitting together, right? That's normal friend stuff."

"They got pictures of me giving you my jacket." A pause. "And pictures from when we were messing around and I was hanging all over you."

Marinette groaned at that.

"But I don't know why they're making such a big deal out of it," Adrien said, frowning. "Friends hang out. Friends hug each other." He caught Marinette making a slight face and he frowned. "Don't they?"

"The hugging...it depends, really," Marinette said slowly. "I mean, Alya and I hug each other all the time. Some people don't."

"Is it weird?"

"To some people it is," Marinette admitted, shrugging. "Some people aren't very touchy. You're very touchy."

Adrien frowned in confusion and tugged Marinette over so she would be sitting right next to him on the couch, practically curled up against his side. "Touchy? Like, oversensitive? What does that have to do with the photos?"

"No, no, not touchy like oversensitive. Handsy would be a better word, I guess. You like having your hands on people."

"No I don't," Adrien argued, draping his arm over Marinette's shoulders to tug her even closer and arrange her against his side. "My parents raised me to be a perfect gentleman. I keep my hands to myself."

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. Adrien raised his eyebrows right back until Marinette glanced down at his arm, still hanging over her shoulder. He blinked, then groaned, pulling his arm away. Marinette laughed and pulled it right back before he could go too far.

"I don't mind, really," Marinette said as she settled his arm back into place. "It's nice. But did you seriously not realize that you do that all the time?"

"Do I really?" Adrien asked, completely dismayed. He hadn't even noticed. "Shoot, I didn't mean to get up in strangers' personal bubbles-"

"Oh, you don't do it to strangers," Marinette assured him hastily, patting his hand reassuringly. "Like, maybe there's the occasional shoulder touch with people you kind of know, but it's not like you go around cuddling random people on the bus all the time."

"You don't know that I don't," Adrien teased, relieved that she wasn't bothered by it. "I take the bus to and from school every day by myself. You don't know what I might do during those rides."

"You guzzle down something with caffeine on the way to your classes and review your notes on the way home," Marinette said, grinning as she poked his side, making him squirm. "Don't tell me you don't."

That was actually...surprisingly accurate. He didn't review his notes on the bus, but he did try to take a chunk out of his assigned readings while heading back after his classes were over. He had had conversations with people on the bus a couple times, mostly when there were fellow classmates he recognized on the same bus or when someone talked to him first, but for the most part he kept to himself or tried to hold a hushed conversation with Plagg.

"Have you been spying on me?" Adrien teased, giving Marinette's shoulders another little tug. "Because that's what it sounds like to me."

"No, you're just predictable."

"Oh, shush. I am not." At least, he was pretty sure that he wasn't. A thought struck him, and he grimaced. "I bet the people at school won't think so, not after all the tabloids. So much for people not knowing who I am here."

Paul was smirking when Adrien walked into his second class of the day on Monday and Adrien found himself repressing a groan.

"You look like that cat that ate the canary," Adrien informed him as he set his bag down on the desk. "Stop smirking, it's disturbing."

"I don't know if I can," Paul said smugly. "You see, I was grocery shopping this weekend and happened upon this most interesting magazine."

Yeah, Adrien could definitely see where this was going. Fabulous.

With a grin, Paul brought out one of the tabloid magazines that had gotten Adrien in trouble. "See, I didn't hear that you were going to be doing Fashion Week! Someone kept that a secret- well, until his face was plastered to every magazine at the end of the grocery lane. My sister was heartbroken to hear that you were apparently already married."

"Oh, is that the story that they're trying to sell with that one?" He vaguely remembered seeing something along those lines in the magazines he and Marinette had gotten. He had stopped paying attention after the first few. Plagg could probably recite the articles of by heart; the small god had been delighted by the pile of magazines that Marinette's coworkers had brought over and once Marinette was gone, he had settled in to read every last one of them. Adrien wouldn't be surprised if Plagg started quoting bits of the articles soon, just to be annoying.

Paul laughed, flipping through the pages of the magazine. "That's what it seems like. You have to admit, it does seem a little suspicious, with those wedding pictures. Even I could tell that there was something different with that photoshoot."

"If you say so." Adrien certainly didn't see it; after all, the photos had turned out lovely and everyone ended up looking very natural. Sure, it had a variety of body types, but Adrien was fairly sure that that was on-trend right now. Besides, they chose the interns that they did based on who fit the dressed Madam Rosalie had on hand. They had been planning to have variety in the photoshoot anyway.

Besides, the runway switch-out that that the tabloids were currently throwing such a fit over? Things happened to models all the time and replacements were hardly uncommon. Designers normally had a little more warning when a switch was needed, but the switches themselves weren't that unusual. His father usually had at least one model switch per runway show, usually two or three. Considering that that was higher than the industry average, Adrien suspected that the high turnover rate of their models probably had something to do with his father's demanding personality and harsh criticisms.

"You know, I've never really been one to read gossip magazines before, but if you showing up in them is gonna be a regular occurrence I might just have to do it more often." Paul smirked at the look on Adrien's face. "What? I'm just saying. This is absolutely hilarious, and the others are just as good."

"Please don't tell me that you decided to actually buy more than one of those magazines."

"My younger sister bought them," Paul said cheerfully, pulling out another magazine and waving it at Adrien. "Well, she and her friends. And then my mother confiscated them because she said they were trash rags, and then I got them from her for teasing purposes."

"Marinette's coworkers practically buried her under all of the magazines and articles they could find about us," Adrien admitted. From what he had heard by text from Marinette this morning, it sounded like her coworkers were trying to make a scrapbook with every tabloid article and picture in it. It would be funny if it weren't so embarrassing. "And then the daily paper apparently had a section devoted to daily sightings of celebrities and for some reason they included Marinette and I-"

"And did a daily update on you two being spotted together, I know," Paul said, still snickering. "I was going to text you and ask if you knew about it, but then I figured that the two of you would probably get all stiff and weird around each other if you knew people were watching you. And then it wouldn't have been quite as amusing."

"Thank you, you're so considerate," Adrien said dryly. Paul was right- he would have probably tried to put a little more space between himself and Marinette and he definitely wouldn't have done the snuggling and the kiss on the cheek had he known that people were apparently watching them- and while it wouldn't have been as fun, it would make trying to explain things during any interviews easier. As things stood, any interviewers would probably think that he was trying to hide a secret relationship because of the faux-wrestling and cheek kiss.

"I think I would get along with Marinette's coworkers," Paul decided as he tucked the magazines away. "If they're teasing the two of you, they're good in my books. Are they putting together a CD or anything of all of the times they showed the two of you together on TV?"

Adrien froze. All the times they showed him and Marinette on TV? "What?"

"I mean, mostly it was short clips of the two of you milling around looking at things or sitting waiting for the runway shows to start, but-"

"Did they have clips of us watching the runway?" If they did, that could be bad. Adrien had had his arm thrown around Marinette's shoulders for more than a couple shows, and then if they had any clips of him watching Marinette as she watched the runway...

Yeah, those looks could definitely be misinterpreted.

"No, they were a little more focused on the clothes, oddly enough," Paul drawled a bit sarcastically. "And from what I could tell, it was perhaps a little too dark in the rest of the room to be bothering with trying to record people's expressions. Why, were you up to something?"

"No, no, dark lighting can just make things look more intimate than they actually are," Adrien said hastily before Paul could get any ideas. "And the press likes making big deals out of shadows and claiming that there's a hand where there's actually a wrinkle in a jacket or something."

"If you say so." Paul shrugged and changed the subject. "So are you ready for the rest of the semester? I don't know about you, but I have projects for all of my classes and I'm not looking forward to trying to juggle all of them and studying and, y'know, having a social life."

"I don't think it'll be that bad," Adrien said with a small grin. "I've been looking at the write-ups for some of those projects and there's a couple that are pretty short. As long as I don't leave them all until last minute, I think they'll be fine." He had had to deal with projects before for his business major, and they only ever caused problems if he left them off until last minute, got too panicked about them, or- rue the day- if he got stuck in a group project. He was already halfway done with two term-long projects.

He could get anything done and still have time for weekend excursions as long as he had good time management. It was something he had had drilled into him throughout his life (and then driven completely home when he had to try to get all of his planned activities plus fighting akumas plus homework done) and thankfully he hadn't let himself slide at all once he headed off to university. From what he could tell, more than a few of his classmates had trouble with the concept, even including Paul at times. They spent too much time partying or procrastinating and then had to stay up late to get their studying done. Adrien preferred to try to get things done- or at least mostly completed- before going off to do other things.

"I started working on two projects over the break," Paul said. "So, y'know, it really wasn't much of a break. But I guess it really wasn't much of a break for you either, right? Because you were working?"

"Only on one- okay, two- days," Adrien pointed out. "And it was interesting to see some of the fashions going on right now."

"And now you have to deal with the fallout from being there. How soon d'you think the reporters are going to start to swarm? I'm surprised they didn't pounce on you while you were still at Fashion Week."

"Oh, I'm sure they'll turn up soon." Adrien glanced at the window. He was about 90% percent certain that he would run into at least a handful after class was over, hounding him as he tried to head to his class in another building. "Honestly, it's just a matter of time."

Adrien stepped out of the building to see a whole horde of reporters from various tabloids and gossip shows waiting for him right outside the door.

Great.

There was a general cry as they spotted Adrien, and he abandoned his momentary panicked idea of jumping over the side of the stairs and making a desperate break for it. He had faced the press before as himself just fine (and as Chat Noir numerous other times), and just because he didn't have Nathalie at his side this time didn't mean he couldn't do it. He didn't have to answer any questions now, which put him more at ease.

The ball was in his court. He didn't have to tell them anything and they knew that, and they knew that he knew that. As long as he didn't show his nerves, he could handle this.

"Adrien! Can you comment of your relationship with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Mr. Agreste! Is it true that you and your girlfriend left Paris because your father didn't approve of your relationship?"

"Mr. Agreste-"

"I am not taking questions right now," Adrien said, cutting them off before they could really get going and attract any more attention than they already were. His voice carried easily enough over the clamor of the reporters, much to his surprise, and it also sounded disturbing similar to his father's. He let his eyes scan over the crowd, trying to figure out who exactly was there. He had spent an hour the previous night reviewing the lists Nathalie had sent so he could identify which reporters he should and should not talk to. It hadn't been enjoyable, but it had (rather unfortunately) been necessary. Unlike in Paris, where he knew all of the reporters on sight, Adrien wasn't familiar with the British tabloids at all.

"But Mr. Agreste-"

"I'll talk to one person," Adrien said firmly. "And not now. I have classes I need to be in right now."

The reporters didn't look particularly happy. One- someone who Adrien recognized from Nathalie's 'do-not-talk-to-under-any-circumstances' list- was more vocal than the others. "But this is important! Other things can wait-"

"I beg to differ," Adrien shot right back, letting his tone grow frosty. "My education is far more important than providing gossip to a bunch of tabloid reporters about my friend and I. Now if you'll excuse me, I have places to be and so do the other students."

With that, he strode forward briskly, sending reporters scattering as he did. Adrien kept a carefully neutral expression on his face- if he looked annoyed, the reporters (if he could even call them that) would no doubt interpret it as annoyance that his so-called "top-secret relationship" had been discovered. As he passed the last reporter in the group, he paused and turned halfway, making eye contact with the one reporter that had shown up that Nathalie had approved of.

"Madam Addison, I'll speak with you later. The rest of you needn't stick around."

And then he was gone.

As soon as he was settled in his next class, Adrien pulled out his phone to text Marinette. She had already said that she wasn't going to speak with reporters- and Adrien believed her, she was definitely strong enough to not crack under the pressure of dozens of reporters crowding around and throwing questions at her- but it wouldn't hurt to give her a heads-up. If she wanted to go out for lunch, she might find herself surrounded by pesky tabloid reporters.

"You did good," Plagg commented as Adrien sent his message. "Did you learn that from your father?"

"From Father and Nathalie," Adrien admitted, keeping his voice hushed. He could tell that there were more eyes on him than normal, so he had to be extra-careful. "And you know that Ladybug and I had to deal with the press all the time before we defeated Hawkmoth."

"They didn't bug you about your personal relationships, though."

"They did, actually. They asked if we were dating. And when we said no, they asked if we were dating other people. And somehow they thought that they would get a different answer if they asked a dozen times a year." Actually, it was more like five dozen times a year by the time they defeated Hawkmoth. He could have understood it if it was all different people asking- both reporters and kids, for example- but the question came from the same small handful of reporters nearly every time.

Thankfully Alya had only asked once and then let it be. Adrien suspected that she had noticed the looks of irritation on both Ladybug's and Chat Noir's faces when they got the question from others and decided that there was no point in probing them further. After all, she already got the scoops and seemed to be on Ladybug's good side when it came to getting interviews. There was no point in risking driving the superhero duo away by irritating them with probing questions about their love life or lack thereof.

Adrien's phone buzzed quietly and he checked it. Apparently Madam Rosalie had already chased away several reporters that were poking around, and Marinette had brought her own lunch in anticipation of the problem so she wouldn't have to go outside until the end of the day. There still might be an issue of particularly persistent reporters hanging around to pester her on her way back to her flat- and good lord, they were probably going to make a bigger deal out of the fact that Adrien and Marinette were neighbors than it really was- and if he went to escort her for the few blocks between the Rosalie's Fashion building and their building so that she wouldn't be making the walk alone and followed by harassing reporters, they would make a huge deal out of that as well.

Perhaps she could walk home with several of her co-workers, since several others lived in the same building. They could keep the reporters from crowding in too much. Adrien texted the suggestion to Marinette and then put his phone away before anyone decided to make a big deal out of him texting Marinette and then go trotting to the press to get their two seconds of fame.

He didn't want to think badly of any of his classmates, really, but he just didn't know all of them well enough to be positive that they wouldn't do such a thing. Besides, tabloid reporters sometimes offered money for information and, well, uni students and money...

As he waited for class to start, Adrien mentally reviewed what he was going to say in his interview. It wasn't as though he was trying to come up with some sort of cover story that he would have to keep straight or anything, it was just that he knew that it could be overwhelming to have to answer questions under pressure and have his answers come out in ways that couldn't be misconstrued, especially since he would be doing the interview in English, not French. If he knew what he was going to say in advance, there was less of a chance that he would be left fumbling for the right words to answer a question.

Even if the woman he was going to be talking to was one of the more reasonable reporters in the gossip business, Adrien wasn't particularly inclined to trust them not to blow things out of proportion if given the chance.

Class went too fast, and then he was leaving again. There would doubtless be more than just the one reporter waiting outside- they would be looking for reactions to their questions, even if he didn't actually answer anything verbally. It was annoying- really annoying- but at least he was prepared for it.

Well. Somewhat, at least. He hoped.

Half an hour later, Adrien had managed to dodge the questions from the still-lingering reporters and was on his way to Madam Addison's studio in her car. The woman was clearly thrilled to be granted the exclusive interview, but she was doing her best to remain in check. For his part, Adrien was trying to keep the nerves from showing.

Yes, it had been a good idea to get the whole circus off campus. If he wanted the whole thing to blow over, he had to keep the visible fuss to a minimum. Magazines on a rack could be ignored; a horde of reporters obstructing the doorway to the academic buildings could not. Still, they were definitely moving onto Madam Addison's ground now, and he couldn't just walk away from her questions like he had with the other reporters.

"We've arrived!" the driver announced as they pulled up to a building, and Madam Addison sprung out, waving Adrien out as well. She steered him into the news building and up the stairs, past staring workers and whispering interns. They ended up in Madam Addison's office, where she settled in her chair behind her desk and gestured for Adrien to sit in the chair opposite of her desk. The cameraman- well, camera lady- sat in another chair and turned her camera on.

"So, Adrien," Madam Addison started. "All through last week, you were spotted looking cozy with an intern from Rosalie Fashions during Fashion Week. It raised a lot of questions, but let's begin with the start of last week. You ended up replacing a Rosalie model very last minute."

"I did. I went into Rosalie Fashions on Friday around noon and found out that they had just gotten word that one of their male models had been in a car accident and would be unable to walk the runway. Since I've had experience walking the runway and was pretty much the same size, it was an obvious choice for me to step into his place."

Madam Addison's eyebrows rose. "And you just happened to be going to Rosalie Fashions... why? To visit a special friend, perhaps? A girlfriend?"

"To visit a friend," Adrien corrected. "Marinette gets very focused and forgets to eat sometimes, especially during crunch times such as the lead-up to Fashion Week, so I went to bring her lunch."

"That is a very boyfriend-like move, many would say."

Adrien shrugged. He wasn't going to get defensive, because he knew how that could be- would be- read. "Perhaps to some people. I'd do the same thing for my other friends if they were stressed and I had time to visit...and if we were in the same country," Adrien added. He knew full well that without the qualifier, he would have people trying to tail him to see if he actually visited anyone else with lunch, never mind that it should be obvious that the majority of his friends would be back in Paris.

"If you say so." Madam Addison glanced down at her notepad. "So that explains why you replaced a model last-minute, but then you were spotted throughout the week together."

"Marinette and I are friends," Adrien pointed out again. "We've known each other since collège. And friends, y'know, customarily hang out with each other. I had the week off, so I decided to spend it with Marinette instead of just hanging out alone in my apartment."

"But surely you've seen enough fashion shows in your life, for someone who isn't interested in fashion?"

"I'm interested in fashion," Adrien corrected again. He wasn't quite sure where this perception had come from that he wasn't interested in fashion. Maybe he wasn't crazy gung-ho about it, but it wasn't as though it bored him all the time. "I'm not one for designing, but I do enjoy looking at the finished product." A stretch, maybe- he could get tired of looking at the finished products, especially when they were old, rehashed ideas or just a little too weird- but it was close enough that the little white lie could slide.

Madam Addison was looking as though the interview was perhaps not going quite the way she had hoped, but she pressed on. "So you claim that there isn't anything of a romantic nature going on between you and Marinette, and yet we have photos of you throughout the week acting very much like a boyfriend...or something more." She pulled a stack of photos out from an envelope and spread them in front of Adrien. He leaned forward, interested, and then had to quench the urge to roll his eyes because really? They were really going to make a big deal about him filling Marinette's water bottle and getting a wrap for her to eat?

They were reaching, but then again, when were they not? There wouldn't be any news for the tabloids to sell if they didn't make up some of their own.

"Running errands, practically being plastered to her side throughout the week, giving her your suit jacket, cuddling, and-" she pulled out her last photo. "- a kiss."

"On the cheek," Adrien pointed out immediately. "We're French. It's a thing."

"I was rather under the impression that cheek kisses were for hellos and goodbyes, not while waiting for fashion shows to start."

Adrien mentally swore. He should have known that the reporter wouldn't let that slip past her that easily. But he could play that game too. He lounged comfortably in his chair, looking as comfortable and un-ruffled as could be. Sometimes model training came in handy. "I wasn't aware that cheek kisses came with rules."

Madam Addison laughed at that before turning her attention back to the photos. "Fine, then. A friendly cheek kiss. And what about these other pictures, then?"

"Workers really don't have the time to step away and get things to eat or drink before or when the runway show they're involved with is going," Adrien said, pushing the first two photos to the side. "Or directly after the show finishes, for that matter, because they have to clean up their backstage space and move out in time for the next designer to set up. So I decided to be helpful and run a few errands so that Marinette wouldn't get dehydrated or hungry." He moved to the next few photos. "And there's so many people at Fashion Week that if you go there with someone and don't stick to their side, you'll lose them pretty fast."

"You really do have an explanation for everything," Madam Addison said, sounding less than impressed. "And the jacket and the cuddling?"

Adrien couldn't help the smile. "Well, there was a fairly obvious answer to all of your questions. As for the jacket and the cuddling, it was a bit on the chilly side in the runway room that morning, and Marinette had a light top on, so I gave her my jacket."

"Just like a boyfriend would. Or a husband."

She just wasn't giving up, was she? And what was with those husband comments? "My parents raised me to be a gentleman, and a gentleman doesn't let a lady freeze."

His father would appreciate that comment, if he ever saw it. Of course, it had been his mother and not his father who had been the one to teach him manners, but details like that didn't really matter to Gabriel.

"And then a gentleman tries to squish a lady by hugging her?"

"Well, then I was cold, and she was a wonderful source of heat." Adrien shrugged. "We've been friends for forever, and we joke around sometimes. Occasionally that ends up with us acting a little ridiculous."

"My sources said that you and your friend live in the same building, just across the hall from each other," Madam Addison said, collecting her photos again before sitting back in her chair. "Normally friends don't go to the effort of getting flats right next to each other."

Adrien couldn't help but laugh at that.

"That was actually a complete coincidence, actually," Adrien admitted with a grin. "The building has a lot of Madam Rosalie's interns and workers living there, since it's so close to their workplace. And I didn't actually select where I was going to live- I know it sounds awful, but my father's secretary actually found the place for me. I had no idea that Marinette was even in the same part of town, let alone the same building." That they had just happened to be neighbors was still nothing short of a miracle. "And then I accidentally ran right into her as I was leaving my flat on my first day in London. She had been here for a couple months already, so it was great to have a friend here who could show me around."

"Do you explore the city together as well?"

"Of course, when we both have the time." There was no point in denying it. If he did and then the paparazzi saw them traveling places together, they would make a bigger deal about it than if he just admitted it outright. "It's much more fun to see the sights with someone else. She sees things that I don't, and I see things she doesn't. And sometimes the she wants to go somewhere I wouldn't have gone on my own, and then we both end up having a great time."

"So we're likely to see the two of you out and about together," Madam Addison filled in. "Now, there was one other burning question we all had. There was a wedding advertisement a few months ago that, I think, largely flew under our radar. I think everyone in London has seen it now. It features you and Marinette as the bride and groom, surrounded by what my sources say are her coworkers."

"It was a very fun photoshoot," Adrien said with a smile.

"Yes, it looked fun. But I think people were wondering why the models for the shoot were such a mix. I understand that having normal-sized people in photoshoots is a hot new trend- and a welcome one!- but this shoot had a bunch of normal men and women and a single supermodel. It was an odd mix."

"It was," Adrien acknowledged, but he didn't say anything further. He didn't particularly feel like digging himself into a hole with the wedding photoshoot. It was better to get a feel for how much Madam Addison knew before he gave away too much accidentally.

"And even more recently, other photos have popped up," Madam Addison continued. "And the most interesting of the photos was this one." She held up the photo of Adrien dipping Marinette and kissing her full on the lips.

Adrien couldn't help the impish smirk that danced across his lips. He shouldn't have been smiling, really- as far as photos went, that was pretty damning- but at least he looked pretty cool.

"And only this morning, I learned about a video that was taken during the so-called photoshoot," Madam Addison continued when she didn't get the response she wanted out of Adrien. "We have the highlights of the video compiled here." With that, she turned her laptop around so Adrien could see it. It was short and focused on the vows, the signing of the "official" paper, and the kiss.

"So we seem to have fairly definitive proof that you and Marinette are married," Madam Addison finished, with a wide grin at the camera. "And the photoshoot was used as a cover-up so your father didn't find out."

So much for the photoshoot cover. Clearly someone had leaked the video.

"Well, it would have been a bit pointless as a cover-up, since I posted that video to my Facebook," Adrien said, letting his smirk slip onto his face. Honesty was probably the best policy here. It was a prank, and it was a prank that people would probably find pretty funny. "My father was meant to see it."

Madam Addison's brows shot up. "Is this a confession? You're actually married?"

"No, not at all. The wedding thing was one part photoshoot, one part prank." He flashed a winning grin at the camera. "I felt as though I wasn't being trusted to not make any bad decisions while I was studying here in London, so when the opportunity for a wedding photoshoot popped up right after I arrived in London, I hopped on it." He pulled out his phone and opened his Facebook, scrolling downward. The actual posts would confirm his story. "We then extended the basic photoshoot to make it look like an actual wedding, and then I pranked my father by claiming I had just met someone and immediately gotten married." He handed his phone over to Madam Addison so she could see the screen. He could only hope that she wouldn't take the opportunity to try to go through the rest of his phone. There wasn't anything particularly incriminating on there, but the more information tabloid reporters had, the more they could take out of context.

"Oh, this is hilarious," Madam Addison chortled, laughing as she scanned the photos. "You really pranked your father? Your father, Gabriel Agreste?"

"It was fun," Adrien said with a grin. "Madam Rosalie was 100% behind it, which was great. And we only told the people involved and Marinette's family. All of our friends got pranked as well, and their reactions were hilarious."

"For those who are wondering, the earliest post here says, 'Just ran into her yesterday and we decided we had to get married' and it has a whole album of photos from the wedding," Madam Addison said. She scrolled up. "The next one has the full video and says, 'Some wonderful people took a video of our special day so we could share it with everyone who wasn't there! Apologies for not inviting friends and family back in Paris, but we just couldn't wait!' You were really laying it on thick there, weren't you?" Madam Addison asked with a laugh. "Very romantic."

"It worked better than I expected," Adrien admitted. "There were a lot of people who thought we were actually being serious."

"Including your father?"

"Including my father," Adrien confirmed. "And our friends seemed to believe us too, for some reason. They were ticked off that they weren't invited. We got quite a few texts from them complaining about it."

"Perhaps they believed you because they thought that you were already dating?" Madam Addison suggested. "Or that you should be dating?"

"I think it had more to do with the fact that they knew that we had known each other for years," Adrien said with a shrug. "But my father read the post like I meant for him to do, and so he thought that I had only known her for a day."

"That you had only- oh! 'Just ran into her yesterday and we decided we had to get married!' Very nice suggestive wording! I thought it was maybe a little awkward considering that you knew each other, but that makes sense!" Madam Addison was really laughing now. "And then here's your last post: 'Thanks to everyone who helped us pull off the impromptu wedding! In case you haven't already guessed, it was completely fake. I'm slightly concerned by how many people thought we weren't kidding though!' How many people thought you were serious?"

"Too many," Adrien admitted. "There were friends, there were models, there were other people that worked with me and for my father. I was really confused about why they thought that I would just up and marry someone I just met."

"So the photoshoot, then," Madam Addison said, composing herself again (a few more giggles slipped out anyway). "Was it originally meant to be all typical people plucked from the business?"

"I'm not sure," Adrien admitted. "It might have been. I never asked."

"And was Marinette originally supposed to be the 'bride' for the shoot?"

"She was the only person I knew would go along with my crazy plans to prank my dad," Adrien said with a grin. "And to be perfectly fair, she did try to talk me out of it at first. But I brought her around."

Madam Addison finally let out a somewhat defeated sigh. "So it sounds like you and this girl are great friends and partners in crime- or at least in pranks- and we'll see more of these kinds of interactions between you two. You're going to drive all of the gossip reporters insane, you know."

Adrien shrugged. He knew that. He also didn't care, unless his father really thought it was necessary for Adrien to make a statement every time some reporter decided to make a fuss about his and Marinette's friendship. Then it would just be irritating.

"Well, you'll keep things interesting, at least. You do know that people will keep seeing a relationship between the two of you- a romantic relationship?"

"They're trying too hard to see something, then," Adrien said simply. There was nothing else to say about it. "They're just making a mountain out of a molehill."

A/N: Ah, Adrien, you ridiculous blind child. Why. Why must you be this way.

I meant to post this something like two days ago (whoops) but I was hanging out with family for the holidays and oddly enough, they didn't think I should be spending ages fiddling around on my computer (plus I only see them once a year, so...). I should be back to a fairly regular schedule after this. Hopefully. Ideally. Most likely. Especially if I ever perfect the art of just posting without fiddling with little tiny details and getting distracted by other projects.

Please review, it really makes my day! :)