Marinette used the spare key Nino had given her to open the door to the apartment. Placing it back in her back pocket she pushed the door open only to feel the restriction of something behind it. She continued to push until it opened completely. The sight in front of her made her screw her nose up in disgust, even more so when she finally stepped foot into the room.

Closing the door she studied what lay around her. Beer bottles sprawled over the floor, take away cartons containing left over food turning mouldy on the tables and floor, and a smell ... she didn't even want to know what the smell was. Dead animal came to the forefront of her mind.

"Ugh!" She exclaimed as she looked around the room, this was disgusting. She let out a deep breath making her way into the apartment. Suddenly the smell of unclean male reached out and strangled her senses. There was no way France's Olympic champion could fall so far so fast.

Around two years ago she watched her lycée friend, Adrien Agreste, win a gold medal at the Olympics on live television, along with all their friends at their local bar "Master Fu's distillery". He was incredible, charismatic and top of his sport for three years. No one saw the injury coming, especially Adrien.

After a slip at the World Fencing Championships, only months after his Olympic gold, his career was pretty much over. He'd had operations and physiotherapy but nothing could help with the cartilage damage he'd done to his knee. After attempting a comeback he officially left the sport two months ago.

She'd never forget the press conference as he announced his retirement at only twenty-five years old. No matter how much he laughed and joked with the press she could clearly tell the depressed state Adrien was in. Marinette had been in love with him ever since that first day at lycée eleven years ago when he selflessly gave her his umbrella. She knew his face too well, she had every facial expression of his categorised in her head. She knew the difference between the real Adrien smile and fake model smile.

"Hello, anyone home?" Marinette called into the dark hallway of the apartment. She walked forward, kicking discarded clothing out of the way as she moved through the kitchen. Nino, Alya, and other members of their friendship group had been around to try and help Adrien out of this slump but none had any luck. He hadn't left this apartment in the two months he'd been back in Paris. Marinette was the groups last option.

She wove her way through the discarded food wrappers and bottles towards Adrien's bedroom. This would be the first time she's seen him in almost four years. She'd grew up a lot since their last encounter; her body as well as her mind. She'd let her hair grow midway down her back, and wore clothing that accented her increasingly womanly body.

Reaching the last door in the hallway she opened it. The sight before her was not one she was expecting to see. Adrien Agreste, face down in his pillow, shirtless. Her heart suddenly remembered her adolescents, and went into crazy over drive. His back was pure muscle. From his shoulder blades down to his hips. She was quite sure if his sweats were a little further down she'd have a great view of his briefs, and a little lower maybe his ass. Every woman in Paris with eyes would agree Adrien Agreste had the most perfect body, though maybe today it wasn't at its finest.

His golden, blonde hair was a mess on top of his head with grease collecting around his scalp. You could see the knots forming where he hadn't washed or  brushed it in days. Adrien Agreste, was not looking like Paris' sweetheart and famous ex-fashion model at the moment.

She needed to concentrate, she was here to do a job. Everyone had tried to talk to Adrien and baby him back into the "real" world. However, Marinette had a different idea.

"Hey jerk!" There was no indication Adrien had heard her so she went for option number two. Heading back into his lounge, Marinette found a melted tub of cookie dough ice cream.

"This is cruel." She said as she picked it up. Everyone knew cookie dough was the best flavour. Lifting up the tub of ice cream she contemplated the task in front of her.

"Two points for the body, three points for the head." She announced to herself. This wouldn't be easy. Deep down she wanted to run to him, stroke his hair whilst holding him tightly and telling him everything was going to be ok. But everyone could tell that wasn't working with him.

She pulled her arm back and threw the melted dessert towards Adrien's once lusciously kept blonde locks. Letting go of the container it landed in the middle of his  bare shoulder blades before creating an artistic splat pattern on his hair, back and headboard. It was almost beautiful.

"Get up."

Adrien must have gone to bed wasted as it took him a full five seconds to register the dripping liquid making its way across his forehead.

"What the hell?" His voice came out gruff. This was the kind of voice she fantasied him having during her private moments at home. In her bedroom. Alone.

"I said get up, you're disgusting! There's only two things that are going to happen here; your face will be eaten by rats or your apartment will be condemned."

He sat up and wiped some of the ice cream from his face. "What have you thrown over me? What do you think you're doing?" He turned his head to see who was attacking him. "Marinette, get out."

"I'm surprised you noticed another human being considering you're so caught up in your own self pity."

"Marinette, I'll only say it one more time. Get out." Adrien looked at her like she was the most annoying entity in world.

"There's some noddles on the floor in your lounge. Perhaps they'll go well with the cookie dough ice cream. Though I can't be sure I'm not a chef." She came and sat on the edge of his bed.

"You know what Adrien, you used to be a nine point five but looking at you now I'd say you'd be lucky to be considered a seven." His head went back to his pillow as she spoke.

"Really? Because I can tell you're looking at my ass."

"Oooopppssss my bad! I thought that was your face." She retorted. He let out a snort before she decided to go back into the living room to find the noodles. Bringing it back into his bedroom she tossed it at his head.

"Two points to me." She exclaimed. "How about some salt and pepper to bring it all together?"

He shot up out of his bed raging with anger.

"I can't believe you just did that! Damn Mari."

Marinette gave him a look over. She'd never seen him with facial hair before but she could tell from the growth it was about two months old. He really didn't look good with a beard.

"Go!" He shouted, every muscle in his torso tensing and his cut arms going ridged. "Don't make me throw you out!"

"Go on try!"

"I'll call Nino." He responded.

"Go ahead, he knows I'm here. He gave me your key." Marinette stood her ground as he angrily walked towards her. If the look in his face hadn't been so terrifying she would have laughed at the noodles bouncing around in his hair.

"What do you want?" He towered over her. He'd obviously grown over the past few years ... either that or she'd shrunk. What did she want? Now that could be answered in many, many ways.

"I want you to stop being such a selfish asshole. Everyone's worried about you. Nino, Alya, Kagami, the hundreds of fan girls thinking of ways to cheer you up. Perhaps you just enjoy being centre of attention, be it good or bad?"

"You think I enjoy this?"

"Yeah," she shot back, "I think you want to stay in here forever because it means you don't have to try again." She turned and started to stalk out the room. "I think you're a wuss of a man, Adrien, sitting in here drowning your sorrows. I'm going to speak to Nino about getting a cooler friend."

"Hold up," Adrien stormed out the room after Marinette, "I gave up everything so I could fence! My dad disowned me, I lost my modelling contracts so I could play the sport I loved. I was an Olympian, Marinette! Now I'm just a failure."

Marinette took a step back in shock. How could he think himself a failure? Where was his cocky, carefree attitude she'd fell in love with during her teen years. He used her silence as a reason to make his way back to his disgusting bedroom.

"Fine then," she called after him, "stay down. You can become an old washed up has-been who tells the same story once he's had two beers." She gestured to the apartment. "You're half way there. Don't quit now."

"What do you know? Is your fashion label famous yet?" That was it. He'd pushed her over the edge. She wasn't the stuttering mess she used to be anymore. She was a fully grown woman with a business and a mortgage. She walked up to him and poked one of his insanely hard pecks.

"Listen mister, everyone is worried about you now but give it six months and people will laugh at you as you walk down the street. The local has-been who could never come back to anything worth while." The muscles in his jaw twitched as his beautiful green eyes narrowed.

"What do you care?"

"I don't. I just wanted to see it for myself. The mighty Adrien Agreste, a drunken slob."

"Get out." He sneered. "I won't ask you again."

"I'm going. I probably need to stop by the hospital to schedule a tetanus shot." She turned on her heel to walk out the door.

"I have nothing! I failed! He was right!" Marinette turned round to look at Adrien one more time. He was drinking from a half full bottle of vodka.

"That's crap Adrien. You made it, you did exactly what you set out to do. So your were dealt a bad card, so what ... who isn't. But he'll only be right if you lay down and act the victim." She turned round to side step what looked like a Chinese carton and made her way to the door.

"See you around Adrien, probably on the last stool at Master Fu's whining about your glory days." The tears she'd been fighting against slowly released. "You're better than this."

She walked out the door leaving Adrien looking like he'd been slapped round the face.