Promise (Discontinued)

Lizette Santos had woken up at roughly around 6:30 am in slight disarray. Her long, dark brunette hair had gone from tame to a lion mane within one night. It was a bit strange to admit to many that it did, in fact, take thirty minutes to finish her hair. Makeup wasn’t necessary- moreover because of it not being something she enjoyed.

He grabbed his cream colored, loose fitting pants and slipped them on. A thin, dark gray sweater was tucked neatly into the pants, all complimented by a brown belt and black shoes.  A few rings were placed on either hand just to finish it off. 

“Dulce, do you think I actually have to go?” Lizette attempted French, it was clear she stumbled through every word but still managed to find the right ones. He should at least try, even just at home. He called her brother, wondering if he actually made it up by 7:00 am.

The apartment was an okay size. Enough to fit two people and have a few over in the living room. That was all they needed, not necessarily anything else.

A laugh came from the kitchen, which was just down the hall. “ Yes, Liz. You have to go.” As his sibling approached his view, he slid over a coffee and a plate of eggs mixed in chorizo. “Gabriel Agreste’s son is in your class, so make sure you make friends, okay?” Dulce seemed to fix his bun in the reflection of the microwave. 

“Your tie is crooked.” They slipped into a chair and began eating, tearing every bit of the tortilla to use to eat. “By the way-“ Lizette said, mouth full of food, “This trial run. You said Gabriel wants to see you work?”

Dulce immediately changed to fix his tie, mumbling to himself. “Well, if you had paid attention, you’d know what I’m trying to do.”

Lizette gestured for him to go on. “And that is?” He drew out the is, in an attempt to get something out of her brother.

“Mister Agreste is trying to help start a collaboration. He said that he can help me get a bigger name outside of the country. Outside of France, even.” Dulce leaned his side against the counter. “He enjoyed my work when I sent in designs a while back. And that’s where you come in.”

She choked a bit, grabbing her coffee to soothe her throat. Ah, yes. Milk with a splash of coffee. “Wait. What am I doing? I thought I just had to sit around and look pretty?”

“You do!” Dulce stood back straight, pointing at Lizette. “You get to model for him. You’re still modeling for me, just, alongside Gabriel Agreste as well. His son models, you’re around the same age. Plus, apparently this model is getting the group behind so adding another model works out anyway.” He shrugged, as if saying he didn’t care for the drama.

“Okay. So I’m stuck with some French kid?” Lizette leaned back, looking past their brother. “Oh! We gotta go. School is in, like, twenty minutes.” 

Dulce’s eyes widened, “Okay, okay. ¡Vámonos, vámonos!” (Let’s go, let’s go!) He waved towards the door.

—:)

“I’ll be picking you up after school, okay? We have a shoot after. That means make friends with that boy, we don’t want any drama.” Dulce’s last few words had stuck with Lizette as she approached her way towards the classroom.

“We my ass. I’m gonna be doing all the work while you stand there.” She muttered a bit angrily. Her eyes shut tight as she inhaled, “It’s okay, Lizette. Puedes hacerlo.” (You can do this.) Within moments, his eyes were wide open at the noise of books falling. “What?” Lizette looked a bit down before forming an ‘o’ on his lips.

A short girl had a similar, wide eye look. Her hair was blue and placed into two pigtails. The outfit- well it could be better in the eyes of Lizette, but it wasn’t bad. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I was running late for class and I had no idea where I was going-“ The girl began to ramble, as if speaking a million words a second.

Lizette raised a hand to her own lips and began to stifle a laugh. “Hey- hey!” She let out a few giggles, attempting to get the girl to stop. “It’s okay.” She bent down to grab the fallen items, “If you really feel bad, then can you help me find my class?” Honestly, a little red crossed her cheeks in embarrassment. His French was adequate- but he worried that his accent still blocked it from being better.

The girl was bright red, taking her stuff back. “Oh! Um- yeah, of course.” She leaned a bit closer, looking at the paper in Lizette’s hands. A smile widened across her face, “That’s actually my class. Let me walk you over.”

The two were in slight awkward silence as they headed up the stairs and into the class. No one had really noticed them walk in, as most students were crowding one single desk.

There were an array of students, but the one in the center looked familiar. Liz didn’t know her, but she’d seen her somewhere. Was she the top one here?

“We’re getting a new student today!” A girl with glasses and loose hair spoke. She sat right next to the familiar girl with… sausage hair? “I heard she was from somewhere in Mexico.”

“Oh really? I wonder if she knows Lizette Santos then.” The girl with the poor hairstyle spoke. 

The group looked confused. “Who is that?” A rather big guy asked. Bleached tips and a bone shirt? Interesting... to say the least.

The blonde boy, sitting uncomfortably close to the girl, spoke up. “She’s a model there. Lizette is actually-“

“Oh my god, you’re so right Adrien!” The girl interrupted, clinging onto his arm. “Her and I are actually childhood best friends. My mom was stationed in Mexico and at some point she met Lizette’s mom.”

Adrien seemed nervous, swallowing a lump. “Lila-“

Lila. That was her name. The model her brother mentioned. Who the fuck was this girl to be lying about her? Her mother? Lizette felt a tap on her shoulder. That had snapped him out of his thoughts. He released the tightened fist that paled.

“Are you okay? That’s just Lila, she is-“ The girl seemed to inhale, “She’s a lot. A liar. She’s probably never met Lizette.” She seemed to try and explain to Lizette the situation, but that had just pissed her off.

“I mean, maybe I can actually contact her and see if she’d fly over here. Calling her mother to ask would be so easy.” Lila had continued on. She probably was too stupid to realize the rapidly approaching 6’2 girl.

“Why wait?” Lizette slammed her phone onto the table in front of Lila. The group seemed to back up slightly as the girl widened her eyes.

Lila, even for a moment, swallowed the lump in her throat. Her eyes obviously showed the fear. “What? Who are you?”

The girl next to her seemed to stand, as if to be courageous. The shaking gave her away. “What’s your problem just storming over here?”

“Get out of my business, boring girl.” Lizette snapped. Her eyes focused back on Lila. “Don’t you recognize me? You’re my bestie aren’t you? You were just talking about how you’re best friends with Lizette Santos. Well here I am! Call my mom. Do it.”

“My name is Alya-!” She seemed to gawk.

Adrien’s eyes seemed to move past the group and towards the blue haired girl, whose mouth was still wide open. “I was trying to say-“ Adrien stumbled over his words, “Lizette was the one coming to class.”

Lizette focused her attention on the blonde. “Oh. You’re Adrien Agreste?” Her eyes stared at him up and down. “Why don’t you tell her? I mean, my brother is working with your dad now.”

Lila’s hand seemed to loosen a moment. Maybe she could still recover. She had to pull something-

“Liz, surely we can just figure this out. Shouldn’t you be happy seeing your friend?” Alya quickly sat back down after another look from Lizette.

“Call me Liz and I’ll break your glasses.” She snarled. “Now. Tell this class, Adrien. I know you know what I’m talking about.”

A voice finally spoke up, as if frustrated. “God, Adrien just say it! Her mother is dead. His brother is his guardian!” 

And the collective gasps from the group seemed to add in.

Lila began to cry. She could still get something out of this. “I’m so sorry.” She cried into her hands, “It’s my lying disease. I was so nervous for a new student it just started.”

Lizette took a step back, now looking confused. “Lying disease? What the fuck-“ She looked around to the class, who practically shoved Lizette away to comfort Lila. 

“Lila has a disease where she lies when her anxiety is up. It’s clear that you didn’t help.” Alya found her new confidence, attempting to comfort her. “It’s okay, Lila. I’m sure Lizette understands.”

His mouth opened, “What are you talking about, she lied about my dead mother- “

Adrien seemed to escape her grasps, moving up and towards Lizette. “I’m sorry you had to meet the class like this.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I promise you it’s not like this. Lila is just- she doesn’t know how to get along with others, so she lies to get people to like her. I’m sure it’s okay, though.”

Once again, before Lizette spoke, the girl from before butt in. “Adrien! She was lying about Lizette’s own mother. She was lying about someone who’s passed.” She hissed, clearly annoyed. Her brows were pressed together and her face was red with anger. “This is clearly harmful.”

“Marinette.” 

Ah. That was her name.

“I thought we talked about this. Plus, I’m sure Lizette is completely fine.” Adrien attempted to wave her off. His clearly fake persona seemed to falter slightly. 

Lizette scoffed, “Actually-“

“Good morning class!” A cheerful, yet somehow dreadful, voice waltzed in. “I’m sorry I was a bit late, there was so much traffic. Ah, Lizette! I hope you’re getting along with everyone. Now, everyone to your seats so I can try and find a spot for Lizette here.”

God. Lizette hated her already. He looked down at the paper, more crumpled than before, and read it. Oh, her name is Bustier. “Ah, Mrs- Ms. Bustier can I speak with you after class?” He leaned a bit on his right leg.

“Yes, yes. Let’s see. Ah, Marinette you have an open seat. Will you raise your hand? Marinette is the class representative, so you can go to her for anything.” Bustier had barely looked up from the stack of papers. “Before you sit, introduce yourself.”

Lizette nodded, shifting the back pack on his shoulder. “I’m Lizette Santos. Call me Lizette. Nothing else. I’m from Mexico, so my French isn’t great. Oh, uh, use any pronouns for me I don’t care.” He shrugged, looking around. “Yeah, that’s it.” Liz walked up the stairs. Her eyes wandered over to Lila, who gave a weak smile. Then to Adrien, who gave a smile that said ‘please don’t say anything’ They groaned in response, finally just slipping into the seat.

“I’m sorry about Adrien. He was kind of a shut in and this is his first year. People… aren’t his specialty.” Marinette whispered, a concerned look plastered on her face. “I don’t believe Lila should be excused, though. What she did was wrong.”

“It’s. Fine.” Lizette pulled out some of her stuff, “You don’t have to excuse Adrien. If he wants to do something then that's for him to figure it out.” She finally looked over, giving an obviously forced smile. “I have to work with him, so we have all the time in the world to chat.” He raised his voice slightly, enough where Adrien seemed to shiver.

Marinette nodded, “I’ve seen some of your brother’s work. Outfits you’ve modeled. It’s beautiful. No wonder Gabriel Agreste wants to work with him.” She seemed to sigh happily. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to fangirl. I’m a designer myself, so.”

“Ah.” Lizette said simply. Yeah, that makes sense. Besides Adrien, a lot of the outfits in here were typical… no fashion sense. But hers was around similar level as Adriens. “Can I see your designs?” 

Her eyes lit up, “Yes!” She covered her mouth, “Sorry. Um, yes.” Marinette squeaked, “They’re in my room, though. I haven’t brought my stuff with me since…” She trailed off. 

“Marinette?” Lizette asked, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to follow her classmates' view and saw who was in line. Lila. What does she do?

“Sorry, again. Our lunch is pretty long and I was going over there anyway. It’s just across the street if you’d like to join me.” She asked, keeping her voice low.

Lizette shrugged, thinking about it for a moment. There wasn’t exactly that she could deny. Their lunch was pretty long. Actually, it was like, really long. Dulce did also say to make friends. “Yeah, sure. Think my brother packed me lunch.” She shuffled through his bag, “Never mind it’s just a snack. We don’t know how lunch works here.”

“We usually have enough time to go somewhere. But there’s also cafeteria food. It’s still pretty good.” Marinette explained, “Since I live at the bakery across the way, I don’t usually need lunch here.”

“Oh. Cool, good to know.” Lizette remained silent, and the conversation was finished there. The teacher had continued on, with the occasional interruption from Lila. She sat, attempting to keep attention on the group but failing miserably. His head bobbed slightly before their vision went out.

A gentle hand shook Lizette awake, “Lizette? Hey, you fell asleep.” The voice turned out to be Marinette. The same look of worry was on her face.

Lizette sat up, rubbing her eyes. A yawn escaped, “Oh. I guess I did.” Before too long, a crowd of kids surrounded Lizette.

“Hey! It’s lunch, so why don’t you join us? Lila said she wants to make up for bringing up your mom.” Alya smiled wide, “Plus you don’t have any friends, so you can sit with us.”

“Yeah! Like she said. I’m sooo sorry.” Lila pitched her voice up again, enough to try and fake a cry. 

He stood, gesturing for the group to disperse. “I actually have to meet with the teacher. So. Maybe, I’ll think about it. Is Marinette invited?”

A boy, taller than Liz, spoke up. “No! Actually, you probably should avoid her.”

Lizette craned his neck, “and who are you to say that?” He was a bit irritated at how this class was treating people, and it had been only one day.

“I’m Kim, and I guess I don’t exactly know- but she’s been totally bullying Lila. I mean, she shows up in bruises. Who would lie about that?” He looked frustrated, as if it was unfair for Liz to be questioning him.

“The bruises look faker than that bag Lila carries around. Sabrina can do better makeup than that. No offense.” The blonde spoke up again, looking over to the girl next to her.

The “Sabrina” seemed to laugh, “None taken, Chloe.” 

“Don’t you have anyone else to bully, Bourgeois?” Kim retorted.

“Don’t you have better comebacks, Lê Chiến?” Chloe rolled her eyes.

Lizette glanced at her table mate, who had clutched onto one of her notebooks, “O-kay so I’m going to talk to that teacher now. You guys can leave now.” He spoke quietly, “Wait for me, Marinette.” 

Bustier had spoken up, “Yes, yes. Please head to lunch! I’m sure Miss Santos will be right out.”

The group, rather unhappy, left the room leaving just the two. “What did you need, Lizette?” Caline Bustier hummed, actually looking her in the eyes this time.

She stepped down and stood in front of her teacher’s desk. “Actually, it was about that girl Lila.”

“Oh, is everything okay? Is Marinette bullying her again?” Caline’s attitude had changed quickly, “I’ll make sure to have a chat with Marinette.”

Lizette blinked. “Um- well no. Actually, when I came in she was lying. She lied about knowing me and my mother.” As she spoke, the tip of her fingers tapped her thigh. “And I wanted to see if you could do something about it. I don’t like her lying about my family.”

Caline inhaled, “Well, I can’t do much. See, Lila has this lying disease. She can’t exactly help it. I’m sorry she did that, but it’s out of my control.”

“Excuse me?” Lizette scoffed, “Out of your control? Is it on a doctor's note? Does it just say ‘yeah sure let her lie.’ Is that even a real disease?” He got a bit louder, the anger bubbling inside her.

“I said exactly that. She doesn’t have one on file, but her mother is an ambassador, so to bother her as such-“ Caline stumbled a bit, as if she really didn’t have the answers to their questions.

“Alright.” Lizette backed up, taking a moment to breathe. “I’m leaving. I don’t like to argue, and you’re pissing me off.”

“Miss Santos, you watch your language!” Caline gawked, brushing a piece of her hair back.

Lizette headed towards the door. In the doorway, she looked back, “I will not.” And headed out. He headed down the stairway, trying to look for the entrance.

Marinette waved Liz down, “Hey! I’m thankful you’re still going to lunch with me. How was the meeting with Ms Bustier?”

He groaned, “I don’t want to talk about it. Can I just go see the designs? I have more questions to ask you anyway.”

Her head tilted slightly, “Yeah! It’s quite literally across the street.” Marinette led Lizette over. “Mama, Papa, I’m home! And I brought a friend.” She seemed to call happily.

In came her parents from the back. Liz glanced at her parents. Tall. Short. Tall. Short. Tall. Short. Marinette? He shook his head and gave a smile. “Hello! I’m Lizette. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette’s dad reached over and grabbed Lizette’s hand, “Please just call me Tom!” He shook his hand rather roughly.

Her mother stepped over, “Honey, please remember your strength.” She took Lizette’s hand from Tom’s hand. “Call me Sabine, hon. Any friend of Marinette’s is welcome, always. Would you like a profiterole?”

Lizette looked to her classmate for help.

“We’ll take some with us, but I’m here because Lizette wanted to take a look at my designs. Now, if you need us, just call!” Marinette grabbed a plate of the cream puffs and headed up stairs. 

Lizette followed after, waving goodbye to the parents. She looked around the room in awe, “This place looks so cool. Your desk is really long.” Her eyes wandered, noticing the photos of Adrien on the wall. A bit too many to just be modeling stuff.

Marinette noticed the look, grabbing the photos. She seemed a bit upset and embarrassed, “I was meaning to take these down anyway.” The blue haired girl said with a mumble.

“So. Why does that class hate you?” Lizette stifled a laugh with the look Marinette gave her back. “Sorry, you just don’t seem like the type to bully a pathological liar.” 

“It’s a long story.” Marinette sat down on her chair, rolling back slightly.

“Well, we have the entire lunch period. Let me see those designs and you explain.” Lizette pulled out a wrapped sandwich. “Oh fuck yeah, he packed me a torta.”

Marinette inhaled, laughter spilling out at the comment about food. “Okay. But I warned you.”

“Hit me, designer girl.” 

Lizette should have known to honestly mind her business.