i know that we belong,
you are the music in me.
tumblr month: @auyeahaugust
ADRIEN gets an apartment in a strangely-named building called Liberty .
It’s not his first choice, of course; though his current life choices lead him to no other option.
Well, that’s not quite fair: Chloé offers to let him stay at Le Grande Paris— “for free,” she explains, “I’ll just have to tell daddy he can’t rent the penthouse anymore.”
But the last thing he wants is to depend on someone else after finally getting his freedom, so all Adrien says is “thank you”, and declines.
Marinette’s kind enough to help him go apartment-hunting, but her quirky and all-around strange (but endearing!) personality leads her to recommend Adrien the strangest buildings and landlords in town.
Anarka Couffaine, the landlady of Liberty, is no exception.
(The opposite, if anything else.)
She’s a huge personality for a woman her age— something that visibly throws him off-balance. Adrien’s become all but too used to stiff and strict adults, monitoring his every word and movement to assure that he’s at his perfect behavior at all times.
A woman who he can only really describe as loud: from the volume of her voice to her unique sense of clothing and visible love for (over)-accessorizing is not at all something he’s used to.
“Welcome to Liberty!” She tells him, bursting with life and energy. “You must be Marinette’s friend, then?”
He winces, then smiles awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s Adrien Agreste…”
“Agreste!” She says in surprise, eyes widening almost cartoonishly. “You’re that young model everyone’s obsessed with nowadays, aren’t you? I’m not sure why I didn’t recognize your face earlier— one of my kids is absolutely head over heels for you.”
He laughs, though it’s more politeness than anything else. “I’m flattered,” he starts, before shaking his head. “And I don’t believe I’m as big of a deal as you said I was, but I did work as a model, way back when.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Did?”
“It’s just… it wasn’t my true calling,” he fumbles for the right words to say, unsure of how to word it properly (especially to someone he’s only just met). “I wanted the freedom to choose my own path, so I left. Which is kind-of why I’m here, I guess…”
Anarka’s smile turns kind, and she pats him comfortingly on the shoulder.
“A search for freedom, then,” she repeats, before grinning brightly. “You’ve definitely come to the right place! Here in Liberty, our crew is filled with all kinds of individuals trying to find themselves; without the rules or strictness to keep anyone down. To be true to yourself, without any limitations! That's what I want this building to be; a home for those creative souls to fulfill their deepestdesires and potentials.”
She continues on for a good minute in a lengthy speech about freedom and discovery, and Adrien’s surprised to find himself listening with rapt attention.
That's exactly what he needs.
When she finishes her long spiel, Anarka is greeted with a genuine smile and a hand offered for her to take.
“I’d love to live here, if you’d have me.”
She doesn’t even hesitate, joyfully taking his arm and giving it a firm shake.
“Nice to have you on-board with us!”
Adrien doesn’t have a lot of things to move in.
And there isn’t that much space for things, in the first place.
The apartment is modest, with general provisions for all his basic necessities… and not much else. If he had to compare things to his old room, the apartment was only the tiniest bit larger than his personal basketball court— almost nothing compared to the entire third floor he owned back at home.
Yet, even with the small amount of physical space, Adrien has honestly never felt so free.
He settles down on the bed, then shuts his eyes.
It’s been a tiring day, after all, and all he wants to do is rest.
Until the unmistakable sound of a guitar twang echoes through the room.
Adrien gets up with a start, only belatedly realizing that the sound isn’t coming from his own apartment.
It’s coming from the apartment next door.
He tries to ignore it, placing the pillow around his ears to cover the noise.
But the notes keep on coming.
Twang. Twang. Twaaaaaaang.
Then a few chord progressions, a thoughtful pause, then twang again.
If Adrien cared to listen, he’d realize that the tune isn’t all that bad.
But no, he’s sleep-deprived and cranky and about ready to fight someone if he doesn’t get his eight hours of beauty rest.
(He may not be a model anymore, but he still takes care of his skin and body religiously.)
The sounds suddenly stop, and Adrien heaves a relieved sigh.
Then, the sound of someone plugging something in. A bump, static, then the unmistakable sound coming from an electric guitar.
The mysterious neighbor starts playing various notes and melodies, as Adrien helplessly tries to ignore it.
Needless to say, he doesn’t get any sleep that night.
He tries to get in contact with Anarka the next day, but she tells him that she’s not around.
Instead, she gets him into contact with his son.
“He usually takes care of business in Liberty while I’m not around,” she explains through call. “He’s pretty responsible, if I do say so myself. A good kid. So I’ll give you his number and— Jagged, don’t you dare— I’m sorry, I need to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah? Luka’s in my office, just knock on the door and he’ll let you in— ohmygod are you SERIOUS— I have to go now, bye!”
He makes a note to remember it.
Adrien knocks on the door carefully, and after hearing a muffled, “come in”, goes inside.
Only to be greeted by the most handsome man he’s ever met.
(Which is saying a lot, because Adrien regularly used to work with models, but he— he is on his own league entirely.)
Casually leaning upon the desk, Luka is definitely the textbook definition of what would one find if they were to search for attractive male on the dictionary. He gives off a completely confident and mature atmosphere, which clashes with Adrien’s own more childish and (to some extent) immature vibes. The landlady’s son smiles at him, and Adrien can almost feel his cheeks threaten to burst from the sudden heat.
Is it hot in here, or is it just him?
“You must be Adrien Agreste, then?” He asks, voice smooth and husky and everything good all at the same time. “Our new tenant.”
Yeah. How intricate of you, Adrien.
Luka’s smile grows wider. “So, adjusting to life here at Liberty okay? It can be hard for newbies the first few weeks,” he pauses, then takes a moment to observe the overly-prim-and-proper posture of his conversational partner. “Some, more so than others.”
He wants to protest, but can’t quite get the words out.
“It’s about my neighbor.”
Luka pauses at the revelation, then smiles at him. “Ah, the one who lives in Room 202.”
“Yes!” Adrien responds, almost a little too loudly. “Have you had problems with them before?”
He shrugs offhandedly, the smile still on his face. “He’s caused his fair share of issues. What’d he do to you?”
So, the musical maniac was a male.
“He won’t stop playing! The whole night it was just twang twang twang, and I could barely even get any rest! You know, sleep is important; it ensures the body is prepared for the day and not to mention does absolute wonders for your skin—”
“So he ruined your beauty sleep?”
The younger boy huffs indignantly. “He ruined my regular sleep. I wouldn’t mind him practicing in the morning or afternoon, but can he stop playing at night? It’s two in the morning and I can still hear that damned melody in my head, like it’s not even that good—”
“You don’t think it’s any good?”
Adrien’s visibly thrown off by the sudden interruption. “I’m sorry?”
Luka repeats himself. “The melody? It wasn’t good?”
“I, uh, I guess it was okay?” He corrects, unsure. “Speaking from a music theory perspective, the chord progressions blend together well, but it could be improved on…”
He’s surprised to hear the seriousness in Luka’s tone. “Uhm… maybe instead of hmmmhmmmhm, he could do hmmhmmhmhmmm?” Adrien pauses. “If that makes sense. But that’s not my concern, my concern is—”
Luka repeats the tone to himself, then hums thoughtfully. “It does sound better.”
“I need to go,” the older boy suddenly says, getting up.
“Wait, but I still have an issue, so if you could…?!”
“Sorry,” Luka smiles, turning back from the doorframe. “I’ll be sure to relay your issue. But this is important, okay? I’ll see you around!”
He almost runs out of the office, leaving Adrien to himself.
Like mother like son, then?
As Adrien readies to go back to sleep, he’s ecstatic to find that there’s no sound coming from the other apartment.
Thank you, Luka Couffaine.
He climbs to bed, shuts his eyes, then…
Grumbling to himself, Adrien walks toward the door, then almost doubles over as he sees who’s at the interest.
“Luka, what are you— I, is there any issue I can help you with?”
He laughs, then nods toward his apartment.
(Rude, rude, why is he being so rude?)
Luka doesn’t seem bothered.
Instead, he moves his arm to reveal something Adrien hadn’t noticed at the start:
A blue-and-white electric guitar.
That’s pretty attractive.
Luka nods, a hint of a smile still on his face.
“Yup. And I need your help.”
“That melody,” he starts casually. “You made it so much better. Want to hear?”
No, he does not want to hear. He wants the annoying guitar boy to leave his apartment and let him to go to sleep and—
That actually sounds pretty good.
Luka hums along to the guitar, and Adrien pauses.
Noticing his almost-smitten expression, Luka smiles. “Want to help me out with the rest of the song?”
The words escape Adrien’s mouth before he even realizes it.
“Wait… but on one condition.”
Luka’s eyes are almost smiling with him.
“No practicing in the evening.”
“If you practice with me in the afternoon, then sure.”
Working with Luka isn’t easy. He’s easily-distracted, gets lost in the music, and has a tendency to rely more on his feelings and instincts than objective fact and musical theory.
But his expressions come to life when he plays, and it’s almost mesmerizing.
Adrien belatedly realizes that peace and quiet may be a little too boring, in the first place.
