#monochrome tho — baby steps

[phoenixmetaphor]

Leon from @thebrandywine ‘s [broken machine]

[bugaboowritings]

Cameras and Dead News - Emilie Agreste Is Missing - Fic

Adrien is Rocking Some Shades From The ‘90s. 

I got the idea from a post, that I can’t find- lucky me. But basically, Gabriel doesn’t go out after Emilie’s death/disappearance so the paparazzi couldn’t ask him questions. Do you guys know who still leaves the house tho... Adrien.

Just imagine how that would go. A kid missing his mom, forced to hear questions about her disappearance. 

(Found the post, it was @chloe-is-a-lesbeean. Buzz Buzz, Bitches --> the post) 

hope everyone is alright as we handle these COVID-19 shutdowns. 

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“Damn,” The young flim-maker sighed before folding the newspaper in his hands. 

His lips pursed together in thought, not knowing how to feel or to even believe what he was reading. All while he sat in a cafe, one that’s tucked under the shade of another building, his friend gladly munched on the breakfast they ordered. He hasn’t touched his plate since he got there and the other has been debating with their wallet if they should order another coffee for the trip back to the studio. Idly slouching on the bean-bag as he sat rigid against his wooden chair, gripping the paper in his hand. 

 He’s a small artist in the north of town, who sleeps on his friend’s couch because art doesn’t sell, not at a price that will pay for rent, only for that of a good breakfast and lost dinner. Only known underground for his camera and his good eye for color, but never really having any real connections to the silver screen nor the crowds usually involved painting on it, but he was one of the many victims that a certain star carried her influence over. You had to be living under a rock to not know the blonde, the one who fostered a new generation of artists under her wing and films. 

Even though this director didn’t know her personally, it didn’t stop the heavy stiffness from setting gently on his chest. Wondering if he should even take this headline to heart. 

Hell, he’s unsure if what he was reading was even true or just another clickbait story. Shaking off the bitter feelings just in case this was fake. A stunt pulled by some hot-shot manager or rowdy marketing team. 

If so, it’s utter bullshit to write an article like that just to sell crates full of print. 

It wasn’t until his friend noticed the cold and untouched coffee, that they raised their eyebrow and nodded their head to him to speak up. Yet, the director didn’t talk, only giving a heavy sigh before passing the newspaper down. They, an able writer and a genuine friend willing to give up a couch, hastily sucked the syrup off their fingers and wiped their sticky hands on their loose denim jeans before taking the press in their hand. 

Licking the sweet cream off their lips from their breakfast before staring hard at the page. 

Suddenly that bagel on the white clean platter didn’t seem so appetizing. The cream cheese turned bland and the orange juice after-taste went sour and disgusted their taste buds. 

“. . .Wow.” 

Quickly after that, the two flipped to the main article inside. Scanning the black text to see if this could even be true. Their fingers pinched the press a little tighter as their hands got clammy.  Swiftly scanning to see if there was any reason to believe the bold headline that was selling fast in Paris. 

           EMILIE AGRESTE MISSING            A STAR NOW DIMMING...?

From her famous production skills to her unforgettable acting, along with her hand in public service with the Mayor and to aid the City of Paris, her strong love for the arts and her endless funding for them, and her infinite support towards the young creators in Paris- Emilie Agreste was famous and known around for not only her marriage but her character. 

She’s the very reason that so many got their chance and felt like they could make it in a field that seemed impossible to touch. 

Agreste, along with being caring, she was talented in so many ways.  She had the audience in the palm of her hand when she played the sickly lover to the crazed workaholic on the screen. When she shed a tear, the spectators wept with her. When she smiled, the world seemed fine and the sun always shined. When she sighed at the sky, people wondered what she was daydreaming about. Her name was used in tv shows and other movies, as an homage to her and to her fame. 

The blonde really was Paris’ muse. 

Emilie Agreste, an icon that was thought to never fade from the minds of Parisians or from their headlines. 

This proved more true when people just wanted to know more as the news traveled further and further in France. All everyone wanted to hear, read, or watch were the updates on this case or the basic details that the public has access to. 

Where was her last known location?  

What could be the cause of this? 

Why did this happen?

How could this happen in the first place? 

Then the one that astonished everyone. 

Where is she now? 

‘What happened to Emilie Agreste?’ became the most searched thing in Paris in under 24 hours. 

The world faced the media for answers and clarification, but they too were speechless. Even the journalists notorious for finding the small secrets from cheating scandals,  friendship drama, secret pregnancies or always managed to know an inside-source for everything— 

They too came dry.

Not with a drop of gossip or a hint of rumors. 

All that there was, was the police report filed days ago by her husband, who seems to disappear from the public eye as his wife did from the earth. 

Calls to interview him went unanswered. Emails for a comment on this situation got clicked and dragged to the trash bin. Cameras that waited outside the mansion,  like starving lions waiting for the picture-perfect prey, only got a snap of the maids taking out the trash. The Agreste fashion-shows, ones that were planned months ago, were canceled the day before they took place. The spring collection had to be pushed back before releasing the photos to the magazines weeks later. 

No one could get the details of Parisian Darling and that didn’t change no matter how much the reporters bid for the voices of assistants and maids to speak on the matter. 

The only person out in public and with a tight connection with the Agreste was Emilie’s one and only child.

Adrien Agreste. 

Blossoming model to the Agreste Brand a few months back and the only Agreste that would step out to the sun to go to his fencing lesson and photoshoots. The reason the gates opened again was to only to let in his Chinese tutors or piano instructor. Then, the gates would shut again when he stayed in his rooms for hours on end. Not really a public face until his father released his anticipated winter collection last year, all with the teen as the front cover of every fashion magazine advertising it.

And man, was it well received. 

There were times where Adrien had to be shielded from the press by his bodyguards to get to his fencing competition. Deciding early on to take his Chinese lessons at home instead of going off to the university for his studies when he got pestered by hidden paparazzi and nosey students. 

Reporters, photographers, and the curious were hot on his heels as they shouted things to make him turn around, to get a reaction. Anything to make their salary bigger.  Anything to put on a tabloid. Anything to print on the press. Anything to get something that sells. 

“Is your mother dead?”

“Is it true that there is a ransom note at Emilie’s last known location?” 

“Do you think your mother left with her own will and didn’t disappear?” 

“Adrien, do you think that your mother left willing or is this just a stunt for the new film with Grand-”

“-How is your father dealing with this situation?” 

“ADRIEN, turn around! Tell the public what they were waiting to hear!” 

“Is Gabrial Agreste so disheartened that he can’t step out? Should we still expect the fall collection with-” 

“What is the police saying about your mother’s case?” 

“Are there any new leads about her disappearance?” 

“Adrien, what do you think of this situation?!” 

The heir to the Agreste Brand, the name and legacy stopped in his tracks on the stone staircase. 

It’s a sunny morning out, so his hair managed to glimmer nicely thanks to the sun’s rays. It was also an excuse to wear sunglasses, to pull a curtain over his face so no one could dare to notice how much he wanted to cry. Covering the bags under his eyes and shielding them away from the bright lights since his eyes got more delicate the longer he went without sleep. 

But no one would see that. All they would point out would be the fact his shades are his dad’s old collection from the ’90s. 

They wouldn’t see how he picks his lips because he can’t tap his toes against the marble floors in his house without creating an echo that makes him feel more alone. 

But no one would see that. They would just ask what his lip care routine or if he used any innovative k-beauty products to keep them that shade of pinky-red or that glossy. Totally not the ointment that keeps them from bleeding. 

He would come to practice in all grey or wear minimalistic clothes because he doesn’t want to think about how to match the patterns or the fact it felt so wrong being so bitter when wearing mustard yellow or baby blue. 

But no one would notice the reason for his monochrome wardrobe and call it a new style for the summer. 

Taking little ways he showed his grief when everyone seemed to move too fast. Adrien barely felt the ground under his feet as Natalie changed the times for his lunch again to fit another appointment and meeting. 

Processing the last time he saw his mom before he got asked for another interview on her disappearance. 

How the little interactions and moments popped into his head only to taunt him. The way she stirred her tea, how she comforted him that one time he fell on the concrete, how she always got a plate of cut fruit for him when he was studying, then how she winked at him and said, “Let me talk to your father. He’ll come around,” whenever Adrien asked to go out but there was some hesitation, or how his mother managed to make even the scariest things seem not so scary in the end. 

So to answer that question, he didn’t know.

 Everything was growing out of place in his life but it was in an excepted way. His father was never a man of conversation but became one secluded in isolation without his mother pulling him in with her words out of his cave and keeping him sitting by the dinner table. Adrien didn’t even know if his father locked himself in his large office and buried himself in work or if he still in his parent’s room- trying to process what’s going on. Adrien has been out of the house so much that he doesn’t even know if he left his bedroom the way it is or the maids cleaned up when he was gone, not knowing if his game is still paused at this point. 

 It also just hit him on that nice, sunny day that he may have lost the ability to say ‘parents’ when only one is currently at home. 

As hungry reporters encroached the teen, Gorilla shoved them back and away. Setting his palm on the young Agreste’s back to urge him to keep moving. Only getting a nod, letting a few seconds pass before he hurried up the staircase and into his lessons. 

[01010010-posts]

— dance the night away.

request: Hello, hello! I was wondering if I could request something along the lines of like a first dance? Like, just something cutesy and fun like that? The idea hasn't been leaving me alone for the past few days and I just ahhhh!

a good tango is hypnotic! i love the fact that he would choose such a seductive dance but that has low-class origins? having 60 in a disco is too cliché? he knows how sick moves but not normal dance poor i hope at least the baby that asked for this likes it!

Connor:

• when he said that socializing it’s nice and needed he certainly didn’t think about this • he’s obviously happy that you’re going out with your friends and that you included him but? • but??? why are you all in a disco • he doesn’t exactly hate it? he guesses • even if the music is extremely loud and gosh it’s a torture to his processors • tho your skimpy outfit > loud music • what do you mean dancing? what? he wasn’t designed for this? oh? you don’t care about what he was designed for? oh no please please don’t drag him oh no please • oh! he knows this song! you both like it! • “come on! don’t be so stiff, honey!” • it’s simple for you to say this isn’t it?? you’re teasing him?? • he’d like to reply but stops mid-attempt because rA9 help me you’re so sexy shaking your hips like this • you’re– you know how to do that? when– where did you learn such dance moves? • ok ok cool he won’t overheat now he totally won’t okay • maybe just a little • maybe he’ll blush too but just a little • why didn’t you said sooner that you were going to be this attractive tonight yeah of course you’re always attractive he doesn’t imply the contrary but this attractive, definitely illegal he should be arresting you • FINE he’ll dance with you he can’t let you continue being this fine without joining in • plus? he doesn’t want someone to try their luck with you?? i mean who wouldn’t

RK900:

• oh?? what is it?? you’re tired as hell about the daily jogging session he nags you about?? • OK ungrateful human don’t worry, he’s a perfect boyfriend after all and he will search for the perfect couple activity to keep you both fit and happy • done in 0.012 seconds • “what do you mean argentine tango” • “it’s a beautiful and graceful ballroom dance, [name], I think it would suit us” • is he,,,, doing it on purpose?? to choose such a sensual dance?? and casually say “it would suit us”?? • yeah you guess you burn down quite the thing by doing all those complicated dance steps but still,,,, • if he’s doing this on purpose i swear • well too late to think about everything else since you two are already in this classroom full of other couples • of fucking course he just knows how to dance but?? he’s willingly to pretend to be a total ignorant so he can learns with you • honestly either he’s the most cute dork ever or the best moron android out there • probably a mix • yes but tell me that all this physical pain is not worth his broad chest overlapping yours in his black turtleneck, his long legs almost around your waist in skin-tight black trousers, his polished shiny black shoes– oh gosh he’s so monochrome and so smoking hot • heck you might love tango now • definitely did it deliberately there’s no other explanation you bet he fucking loves the harmony, the closeness and the complexity this ‘human pastime’ requires • having you in his arms all the time, keeping you healthy and making you learn something new? totally his thing, he’s so happy (!!) • what he didn’t foresee tho was.... the milonga • he?? sharing you?? with others?? to dance?? others dancing with you?? he didn’t sign up for this • it’s a fucking miracle people don’t get a spontaneous combustion from his stare • don’t tease him too much about this ahahaha you’re no better when it’s his turn • i warned u: if you tease him he’ll be all smooth and smirks while being in a tango with a different partner • when he swoops you in his arms, his hands move up your clothes and he dips you low? shivering

RK800-60:

• “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to step on your foot” he whispers while cursing himself • oh god is he blushing? because it’s the fourth time he’s getting the sequence wrong? • “why didn’t you download a dancing software or something like that?” you murmur in his ear when he helps you twirl • “listen, I didn’t know generic knowledge about ‘dancing’ was required for this event” almost inaudible • is? he? a? dork? • yes • “gosh–, i told you, you dummy– androids aren’t supposed to be forgetful” • he rolls his eyes “I’m terribly sorry, it must be that you’re so cute that when you talk to me I get distracted easily” • you giggle, lightly shaking your head can he be more adorable? you doubt it • yeah even if he keeps stumbling on your shoes • “well, can’t you just download it now, baby?” the band has started only a minute ago and you don’t really want to mourn your feet tonight • “it’s not that easy, there’s awful signal here” • “so you’re saying CyberLife’s state-of-the-art prototype can’t find some signal? and i should let you murder me?” • ofc you’re jokingly overreacting but look at him blushing blue again bc he’s embarassed i can’t • “I’ll make it up to you when we’re home, okay, sweetie?” • he’s so blue?? help?? such a cutie?? i mean you’ll forgive him everything in this moment • he profusely says sorry to you in his own little special ways after the music is over: like getting you a drink, lending you his jacket if you’re cold & trying not to be a fool too much, things like that • can you kiss him lots? thnx