The Stage was a War Zone (Emotionally)
The lights were blinding.
The auditorium buzzed with nerves and low whispers. Everyone wore their full costumes for the first time. Rose sparkled like a disco ball. Ivan wore a dramatic velvet cape for some reason. And Adrien? Adrien was pacing backstage, heart hammering louder than the orchestra.
Luka was tuning his guitar at stage left. Calm, focused. Except for the way his eyes always found Adrien across the wings.
They hadn't talked since the Almost Kiss.
Marinette was managing stage cues, visibly vibrating with anxiety, while Kagami quietly adjusted her mic, the very picture of silent judgment-slash-support.
"Okay, people," Marinette called out. "Let's make this look like something people will pay money to watch!"
Kim tripped over a fog cannon.
Nino muttered, "That's a no."
Cue chaos.
He stood center stage under a soft spotlight, fake stars projected behind him.
It was just rehearsal. No audience.
But he looked into the "crowd" anyway. And for a second — one wild second — he thought he saw Luka, sitting in the second row, watching like it mattered.
He sang.
And somewhere in the wings, Luka quietly played along — adding an improvised harmony just for him.
The cast noticed.So did Marinette.So did Marc.
And so did Kagami — who raised one elegant brow and whispered, "Finally."
Later that night, on a rooftop near the Seine, Luka was walking home with his guitar strapped to his back.
It was late. Stars were out. The river glowed beneath.
Then—thud.
Chat Noir landed beside him. Not aggressive, not flashy. Just… there.
Luka blinked. "Uh. Hi?"
Chat tilted his head. "Didn't expect to see anyone up here."
"Didn't expect a cat superhero to drop into my night walk," Luka said, smiling faintly.
Chat chuckled, caught off-guard by the chill.
"You're Luka, right? Adrien's… friend?"
The pause between "Adrien's" and "friend" was criminal.
Luka nodded slowly. "We've been getting closer."
Chat's smile slipped for a second.
"That's cool," he said, way too breezily. "He could use someone who gets him."
"I'm trying," Luka said, voice soft. "He deserves that."
They stood in silence.
Then Chat blurted out: "What's it like? Writing music for someone?"
Luka's gaze sharpened — just a bit. "It's like… saying things you're too scared to say out loud."
Chat's breath hitched.
"…Does he know that?"
Luka smiled. "He's starting to."
They stood in silence a moment longer.
Then Luka adjusted his guitar strap and said gently, "You care about him too."
Chat looked away. "More than anything."
Luka nodded. "Then maybe… just be honest."
He walked off, leaving Chat Noir rooted in place.
Confused cracked.
And wondered why his heart hurt.