When Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a little girl, she used to say she had bad luck. Now that she was a twenty-year-old grown woman, she could say she had shit luck.

She woke up because she thought she heard someone speaking to her. A voice pierced the incessant ringing, and for a moment, Marinette was confused. The words sounded muddled to her newly woken ears. Her head rose from the mountains of pillows piled on her bed to beg the voice to either speak up or go away. Marinette just wanted a few extra minutes of much-needed sleep. She was exhausted. Her body not truly used to staying up late to finish assignments as she claimed—and thought—it was. "What?" she heard herself ask. Although, she wasn't all that interested in hearing the reply. It was more about being polite to the voice than anything else. There was a pause that allowed Marinette's heavy eyes to close once more. She was chasing after the sleep that seemed to be slipping through her fingers.

The voice finally broke through the noise and lulled atmosphere. "I said, if you don't turn your alarm off in the next three seconds I'm going to actually kill you!" The sound of Alya's voice sent a jolt of electricity through her veins. She ripped off the blanket that had somehow managed to become tangled around her limbs in her sleep and scrambled off the bed. Her alarm was blaring, a constant sound that never ceased to cause anxiety and dread. Marinette silenced the alarm finally and could almost hear Alya cry in relief. She must have slept through her alarms, plural, as in she slept through multiple alarms and managed to wake her roommate up. There was no other reason for Alya to be awake that morning.

Marinette's heartbeat was thrumming in her ears as she looked at the time. It was late. She was going to be late. The young woman slid off her bed and began rummaging through her clothes for something to wear. Even if she did somehow manage to leave their apartment in the next second, she still wouldn't make it to her class on time. She was pushing a brush through her midnight hair when she realized she hadn't showered the night prior like she had planned. Nothing seemed to be working in her favor. A little frustrated sound escaped her lips as she fought the urge to cry out. Her dark hair was tangled and looked limp. She wasn't even sure what to do to fix it, but Marinette didn't have time to focus on what her hair looked like. Not that she thought that her classmates would really care what she looked like. Half the time her peers showed up in complete disarray due to staying up late finishing designs or pieces. She could always use that as an excuse if her teacher decided to let her in the classroom.

Marinette tried not to let her focus drift away from the fact that she needed to get going. She turned to pick up a white shirt off the floor and tripped on one of her notebooks. "Fuck," she uttered as she looked at the state of her room. Chaos was an understatement. Marinette looked down and realized that the contents of her bag laid strewn across her bedroom floor. She must have kicked it off her bed in her sleep. She dropped down and began gathering all of her school supplies. The young woman began shoving everything back into the old bag without care for the order. However, she noticed a particular pink notebook was absent from the mess. Marinette could almost feel a scream build in the back of her throat. She could feel it as it lodged in her windpipe. It was as if she had swallowed a stone. The mass sat at the base of her throat and created an uncomfortable suffocating feeling.

Marinette began looking for her notebook around her room. When it wasn't in any of its usual hiding places—or actually any place she could think of—she felt herself sniffle, the stone dislodging. The metaphorical dam beaking, the waterworks beginning. Her eyes watered. Marinette snapped herself out of the downward spiral she was following. Being upset didn't change the fact that she had to get to class, even if she wanted to curl up and cry. She let the notebook go for now. She had some of her designs memorized anyway.

The sudden noise of Alya clearing her throat distracted Marinette from the beginnings of a breakdown. She looked over at her best friend and roommate and nearly cried out in relief. Alya held the book full of Marinette's designs in one hand as she coolly leaned against the doorway. Alya must be a literal fucking angel. "Found this bad boy on the counter," she said before tossing it to Marinette.

"Oh thank God," Marinette mumbled, catching it and shoving the book in her bag. Finally, she let her shoulders relax and the tension ease off her stiff muscles. Just having the book provided Marinette with a little comfort. It didn't change anything about her predicament, but it made her feel better. With her notebook found, Marinette stepped out of her sleep shorts and began looking for the pair blue jeans she always wore. "Sorry about waking you. I didn't mean to," she added sadly, rummaging through a drawer. Marinette couldn't meet Alya's eyes as she said it. The guilt coated her tongue and left a bitter taste. The other woman just waved her off.

"What's wrong?" Alya asked her friend as she examined her nails. The polish was chipped and she knew that annoyed Alya to no end. That meant she would probably take it off soon. Marinette noticed how dark the circles under Alya's eyes were. Instantly, she felt even worse about waking her up when she knew her friend needed the sleep. Alya worked long hours and whenever she wasn't in class, namely the days Marinette was, she was normally passed out in her room or on their sofa.

She didn't want to worry Alya so she continued to look for her pair of missing pants. "I'm not gonna make it to class, and my hair looks like it hasn't been washed in the last three months," Marinette smoothed the wrinkles in the shirt she had thrown on. She grabbed her black coat that hung from the back of her desk chair and shrugged it on. Marinette still wasn't wearing pants but even that was the least of her worries.

Alya nodded and made her way into her friend's room. She pulled out the pair of jeans Marinette was looking for without as much as batting an eye, practically out of thin air. She made everything look effortless. Alya could probably make explaining the inner workings of the universe look easy. Marinette scrambled to pull the fabric up her legs. "We can fix your hair with this," Alya began before grabbing the can of dry shampoo, "And I can just drive you to your school," she shrugged like it was the most obvious solution.

"Really?" Marinette asked before she could stop her self.

"Yep," she said, popping the p. "Now come here so I can help you with your hair."

Marinette was zipping up her jeans as Alya brushed through her hair. Together they worked to make her look a bit more put together. One of the things she learned about being an adult was that it was all pretending. Pretend to be put together. Pretend that you weren't a mess most of the time. Pretend like you actually knew what you were doing.

"You don't have to take me, it's okay." She still felt really bad about everything. Alya driving her would make up for the lost time and get her to class on time but it still made her feel a sort of guilt. It wasn't something easily explained. Marinette just felt it in. It was like a headache, ever-present and pounding behind her eyes.

Marinette applied a thin layer of mascara on her lashes, trying to avoid her friend's knowing eyes. "It not a big deal. Take the ride and shut up," Alya grinned at her.

"Thanks anyway." Marinette noticed that the words caught in her throat. The fact that Alya was willing to do something for her despite being overworked meant a lot to her. Two words wouldn't be able to capture what she was experiencing.

It was silent as they worked in unison. Not uncomfortable, just a busy quiet. They were both working together and then suddenly they were done. "There," Alya said as she tied Marinette's hair up. "Now you look like a functioning human," she teased.

"I think I would be lost without you," Marinette smiled at her best friend.

"Yeah, yeah," Alya rolled her hazel eyes. "Now get your cute little ass in the car because I am definitely going to have to get a little creative with the speed limit," she grabbed a pair of Marinette's shoes and handed them to her. The designer was slipping on her shoes when Alya put her apartment keys in her bag. Marinette sent a silent thank you in a small smile. She moved through their small apartment and made it to the door when Alya called out to her. "Skip the elevator, it takes too long."

"I don't want to take the stairs," Marinette whined as she opened the door. They lived on the sixth floor and six flights of stairs didn't sound appealing.

"Well the elevator takes too long," Alya grabbed her car keys as she made her way out of their apartment in slippers. "Get up earlier if you want to take the elevator," she patted Marinette on her head as she passed. The young woman locked the door behind them.

After six flights and some complaining on Marinette's part, they made it to Alya's car. Marinette got into the passenger seat and moved the wrappers from their late-night adventures to gas stations to the backseat. Alya's car was old, the white paint had spots where it was just flaking off but that somehow made it more endearing. There was nothing remotely fancy about the old thing. It didn't contain a GPS or even a screen. It had no Bluetooth capabilities but it suited them just fine. There was a disc player which allowed them to gift each other mixtapes for birthdays and Christmas. That morning, Alya didn't take the time to pick out a CD, she just reversed and they drove in silence.

On a normal day, they should have made it on time for Marinette's first class. Parisian traffic had another say in the matter. The pair were stuck in standstill traffic. Marinette watched the car's clock continue to tick away. It was a few minutes slow, but the fact that it kept ticking was what made the soon to be fashion designer agitated. The heartbeat of the universe kept pushing forward with its own lub dub sound. Tick. Tick. Tick. Alya leaned against her horn but it did nothing but cause a chorus of car horns to answer her back. She let out an exasperated sigh.

"I'm getting out," Marinette mumbled abruptly, pushing the strap of her pink bag on her shoulder and unbuckling her seatbelt. She still felt like she wasn't all that put together.

"You're what?" Alya asked, eyes wide. She looked between her friend and the street, but Marinette had already decided. She opened the door and stepped out of the car into the street. It earned her a few strange looks from the other drivers around her but she didn't care. "Please be careful!" Alya called, knowing she wouldn't be able to stop her friend even if she wanted.

"I will," she grinned and shut the door. Marinette cut through a space between two cars in order to get to the sidewalk. She weaved between pedestrians as she tried to make her way to her fashion school. Normally, she would've taken this time during her morning commute to admire the fashion that decorated the streets like graffiti, but she felt like she could barely catch her breath as she hurried along. Inspiration would have to wait.

Marinette was starting to feel better as she got closer and closer to her school. She crossed an intersection and almost felt a sigh of relief escape her. She was getting closer and closer to her school. A hopeful part of her even joyfully felt that she would make it to class with time to spare. The next few moments crushed and killed that part of her.

It happened when a stranger roughly brushed up against her.

Marinette turned to glare at the man who hadn't even bothered to apologize. The young woman noticed that people seemed to be moving out of the way as he sped off. It was definitely odd but she didn't give it much merit. Marinette tended to mind her own business. She had almost started walking away when she realized she didn't feel the familiar weight of her bag on her shoulder.

It took her a moment to process that her bag had been snatched. The world seemed to be crashing down around her. The air suddenly felt thick and her body felt too heavy. It was like in the movies when people said time moved in slow motion, she felt like she was swimming in molasses. Her feet moved before her thoughts could even settle, not like they were much help either way. Marinette was conflicted. She was tearing at the seams. Part of her wanted to run after the thief while the other knew that chasing after the guy could be dangerous. Sometimes guys like that were violent, they had weapons. If she caught up to him and discovered he had a knife what was she going to do?

"Stop that guy!" She called out desperately but everyone either ignored her or thought she was crazy. No one moved to help her or stop the man she was after so she chased after her bag. She was falling behind. The man was able to weave and dodge through pedestrians while Marinette did not share his grace or agility, she stumbled and bumped into people which did nothing but slow her down and annoy those that she ran into. Marinette was going to scream when something surprising happened. It made her nearly slow down as she wasn't sure if what she was seeing was real. The young woman almost didn't believe it.

An arm shot out from a break in a crowd. The bag thief ran straight into the person's outstretched limb and spilled onto the sidewalk. Her luck must have turned as she grinned widely, out of breath and still running. Marinette used that time that her tormentor was distracted to catch up to him. She had to lean over to catch her breath when she met her hero and her annoyance. The man was still on the ground, her pink bag had been ripped from his arms and now resided in the arms of a guy dressed in all black. Marinette had to do a double take when she saw what he was wearing.

His outfit could only be described as tactile. She was even more confused when she took in the mask that covered his face and something in his hair that looked suspiciously like cat ears. He had a mischevious smile and strange glint in his eyes as he held her bag. "This must be yours." His voice caused a sort of shiver to race down her spine. It was sweet like honey. He had only said four words and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Marinette tried to calm herself down. It seemed much more difficult now that she was looking at him. She must just be out of shape.

"Thank you," she took her bag with trembling fingers. Marinette was shocked that she remembered her words and voice. Though she noticed there was a bit of stuttering in her short response. She blamed the fading adrenaline.

The bag snatcher stood up and the guy who had saved Marinette's day moved to protect her. "How do you know it's not mine? She's been chasing me for blocks! It's my bag!" He was just making excuses. The guy probably had no idea what to do about being stopped by a guy dressed as a cat. She was almost tempted to look for a tail on her hero—she did, he didn't have one—but that didn't mean that the man's words hadn't angered the designer to be. She heard him over her curious thoughts. Marinette could feel her blood boil. She was just about to explode.

The cat-themed hero scoffed, "Not with that outfit it isn't." The fact that he was making a joke out of it reduced the heat in her blood to a mere simmer. He was right. Unless he willingly walked out of his house looking like a fashion disaster, it wasn't his bag. She snorted at the idea. That would never hold up in court.

"I'm feeling kind of nice today, why don't you apologize to her and I'll think about letting you go," he hummed out, glancing over his shoulder to give Marinette a wink. With the angle, Marinette was able to see that his ears were situated on a sort of headband and that there seemed to be depth to them. Almost like something was in them. She was very curious about them, she fought down the urge to reach up and touch them. She was trying to convince herself that her curiosity stemmed from the fact that she was a designer and nothing more, but she wasn't sure if it was working. Her cheeks went red.

"You're not a cop," The guy pointed out. People moved around them like this was a normal occurrence when Marinette was still trying to wrap her head around it. "Just some cosplaying freak," he grumbled, brushing off his pants and glaring at the pair. Marinette wanted to point out that he was the bad guy but decided it was better if she just bit her tongue. She stayed quiet but used her time to study the hero in front of her.

"That's Chat Noir to you." He still had a teasing tone in his voice but there was another underlying edge to it. It was like he was daring the would-be thief to do something. There was something about him that screamed power. "I can still zip tie your ass and leave you wrapped up like a present outside the police station. You still committed a crime buddy," Chat said evenly. He turned his green eyes to her and she nearly forgot how to breathe. They were bright and lively and reminded her of days spent basking in the summer sun. "You can press charges." He sounded serious suddenly. It was like he was fed up with the way the guy was responding. She had to admit that she was too.

Marinette opened her mouth and then realized that she had school to get to. "Okay... Shit no," she laughed nervously, "Look, I have to get to class. I'm sure he's sorry but I really have to go. I appreciate everything you've done for me though." Chat Noir glared at the guy. The would-be thief looked relieved.

"This must be your lucky day," he began. "Next time think of me before you snatch a bag," he grinned as the guy took off. It didn't seem like he wanted to stick around to see if there was a threat in Chat's words.

"Thanks again, Chat Noir," Marinette grinned but the anxious feeling that plagued her all morning was returning. She wasn't sure what the social etiquette was when dealing with a hero. She didn't know if she should shake his hand or leave him be. He didn't look like he was going to give her any answer either. He was just sort of studying her. It made her self conscious to say the least. "I'm really sorry but I actually really have to go... thank you," she awkwardly stepped away from him and started her journey to her school again. She just hoped that nothing else would happen. Marinette must just be cursed with bad luck.

"No problem!" he called, "Have fun in class!" The teasing tone was back in his voice. Marinette waved once more before she began hurrying down the sidewalk again.

The rest of her walk was uneventful. It was like the universe was finally giving her a break. It was well deserved if she thought so herself.

She opened the doors leading into the school and breathed a sigh of relief. Marinette had a few minutes to get to her class before she was considered late. She glanced behind her and saw the blonde aspiring designer struggling. She held the door. When Chloé saw her she grinned, "Running a bit late today, Dupain-Cheng?"

"You're behind me, Bourgeois," Marinette huffed. The blonde woman laughed at that. She sped up her pace to fall in line with Marinette. "Good morning," Marinette smiled.

"It's been a morning," Chloé laughed. She looked frazzled. Her hair not truly brushed but just pulled back into her signature ponytail. It looked messy but also somehow cute.

"Tell me about it," Marinette rolled her eyes. She wanted to blurt out that she was robbed but thought otherwise. Technically, she got her purse back so could she say she got robbed? She wasn't sure. The more she thought about it the more it made her head hurt.

"So tell me about the inspiration you got this morning?" Chloé asked as she unbuttoned the first two buttons on her coat.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marinette almost laughed. "I barely had any time to breathe on the walk over." They turned right at the end of the hall and kept their hurried pace.

"You've got that look in your eye," Chloé pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. She began trying to fix her twisted bag strap, "I know you're going to end up snagging the best grade in class so you might as well spill."

She thought for a moment, trying to settle her thoughts. "A cat," Marinette shrugged.

"As in a little meow meow? Like an actual feline?" Chloé teased. Her blue eyes sparkled with bewilderment.

"Kinda," Marinette laughed. "I mean, it's hard to explain." She wasn't sure if name dropping her hero would ring any bells for her friend. Chloé tended to get her news from gossip sites and twitter.

Marinette grasped the door and opened it for the pair. Together they sat at a station and began the work for the day.

Notes:
I just want to take a small moment to thank you for reading the first chapter of my new book. It's honestly been a trip delving back into the Miraculous fandom after some time!
Anyway, I just wanted to say that I'm back but not back. Updates on this book will be sporadic to say the least. I'm trying to expand my capabilities/style and  focusing on writing longer updates. I also started my first semester in college and sometimes drown in schoolwork so please bear with me. Thanks again! I adore you all!