Chapter Text
“Hey, Luka, it’s been a long time.”
“It has, Adrien. I hope you’ve been well.”
“Well, I’m...I’m getting along. I can’t really say better than that. I mean, I’m sure you heard, it was a media circus. This whole thing is...not what I wanted, to say the least.”
“Yeah. How’s the kid handling it?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t think he’s doing all that well but he just clams up and won’t talk to anyone. And last time he was here, he didn’t want to touch the piano at all. His mother said it’s the same at her place. His current instructor is a good teacher but he doesn’t have the patience to deal with Louis right now. I know you’re busy but I was hoping you could fit Louis in your schedule. If there’s anyone who can draw his passion for music back out, it’s you.”
“Mmm. I want to help, Adrien, but I do have a full roster of students right now, I’m just not sure if—“
“Pick two of your lower income students. I’ll sponsor them for as long as Louis is taking lessons with you.”
“Man, you know I hate it when you throw money at problems like it’s the cure for all ills.”
“I do, but I’m desperate and I know it’ll work this time.”
“Ugh...I do have some talented students that could really use that support. All right, I’ll find a way to fit him in. Although honestly, Adrien, I probably would have done it anyway.”
“Thanks, Luka. Let me know when and where, and we’ll make time in his schedule to get him there.”
Luka looked over his newest student and concluded that he must take after his mother, since he didn’t look much like Adrien at all. His hair was dark and his eyes, while still green, had more blue in them than Adrien’s did. He had a little more of Adrien in the chin and the nose, but his build was lean and slender. He was a smart kid, too, looking Luka over with the same scrutiny, taking in Luka’s blue-tipped hair, the black turtleneck and black jeans, eyes lingering on the tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.
Luka crouched down to Louis’ height and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Louis.”
“M. Couffaine,” the boy greeted seriously, shaking his hand with all the formality and gravity of a tiny businessman. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”
Luka kept his distaste behind his professional mask. He’d never approved of teaching children to tell polite lies. But for all that Adrien had tried to let go of his father’s strict teachings, Louis Agreste was nothing less than rigidly formal and polite.
“You can call me Luka,” he told the boy, who glanced back at his father. Adrien gave him a slight nod and Louis turned back. “I know some teachers prefer a more formal relationship,” Luka continued as if he hadn’t seen this. “But I like to think music is too personal for formality. I want you to be comfortable, though, so if you prefer M. Couffaine, we can go with that.”
Louis blinked, momentarily startled out of his formal composure. “Umm...I’m fine with Luka. Thanks.” A hand rose to rub at the back of his neck in a gesture Luka immediately recognized. Clearly the kid hadn’t expected to have a choice in the matter.
Luka smiled. “Okay. Let me talk to your dad for a second, and then we’ll get started, okay? You can stay here and listen if you want, or you can follow that hall to the studio, that’s where the piano is.”
Louis looked past Luka curiously. “Can I look at some of your other instruments?”
“Sure,” Luka straightened up. “Look all you want, just please don’t touch anything you don’t already know how to play, okay?”
Louis nodded and went off to look at the row of guitars along the wall.
“So,” Luka said, turning to stand next to Adrien and folding his arms as he watched Louis explore. “Tell me why you brought him to me.”
“I was thinking about it even before the divorce,” Adrien told him. “You know I was good as a concert pianist but I was never a composer. Louis, though, he’s got his mother’s creativity. I know I’m biased as his father, but I think he could be a really good songwriter someday. But now…” Adrien sighed. “I’m really worried about him,” he continued in a low voice. “I mean, he’s been seeing a therapist since we told him about the divorce, but...I don’t know.” Adrien sighed again, scrubbing his hand over his face. “He just doesn’t seem to be bouncing back the way he should. He’s so serious and sad all the time, and he seems like he’s lost his passion for music. He wanted to quit and Marinette wanted to let him. We kind of fought about it, actually. This is a compromise. If he still wants to quit after he’s worked with you for a while, I’ll let him, but I’m hoping you can help him. The way you connect with music, it’s unique. Frankly, if you can’t help him then maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”
Luka made a thoughtful noise. “I can try. I can’t guarantee it. Some people just lose the spark. Or it may be too painful for him to play right now, but he’ll pick it up again in a few years.”
“We used to play together all the time.” Adrien’s voice cracked. “He never wants to play with me anymore.”
Luka put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “He’s not rejecting you, Adrien. I’m sure of that. Just give him a little time. I’ll work with him and we’ll see what happens. In the meantime, you work on finding other ways to connect with him. Don’t pressure him about the music at all for now, okay? Let him know you’re willing to play with him whenever he wants to and then drop it.” Luka frowned. “And if he does ask to play with you, you better be ready to drop whatever you’re doing and play. No excuses, Adrien.”
“I wouldn’t,” Adrien protested.
Luka folded his arms again. “All right, now I’m going to piss you off, so brace yourself.”
“Great,” Adrien muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“Tell me what’s going on with you and his mother.”
Sure enough, Adrien scowled. “Why do you need to know that?”
“Do you want me to teach him, or not?” Luka asked calmly. “You brought him to me for a reason, Adrien. I’m not trying to pry for the gritty details, but I need to know what’s going on in his head. Are you still friendly or...”
“We’re...strained. We’re both in therapy but—” Adrien shook his head. “She left me, Luka. I’m having a really hard time forgiving her for that. And—” Luka glanced at him as he seemed to struggle to get the words out. “I think she’s having a hard time forgiving herself for it too,” Adrien finally finished, grudgingly. “She’s working a lot. She’s been my head designer at Gabriel since my father passed. She doesn’t need me, she’s more than talented enough to split off and form her own brand. But she hasn’t done it. It’s been...less than a clean break. We’re managing to work together civilly because we have to, none of the other designers have the vision to keep Gabriel relevant, but it’s still pretty tense.”
“How’s she with Louis?”
“She’s a fantastic mom, everything I wish I could have had as a kid. She pays attention to him, she always puts his needs first. She indulges him without spoiling him, she pushes him without pressuring him, she encourages him to do better without making him feel like he’s not good enough.” Adrien sighed, and swallowed.
“I loved her so much,” he said thickly. “I built my whole life around her. I’ve accepted that she’s gone and she’s not coming back, but...I don’t know. Deep down I love her and I want her to be happy, but I can’t seem to stop being angry at her and she just takes whatever cruel thing comes out of my mouth because she thinks she deserves it. I don’t know how we got so twisted up.”
Luka turned and pulled Adrien into a hug. “It’s okay to be upset, man,” he told his old friend. “It’s okay.” They stayed that way for a moment, until Adrien pulled away.
“I’m sorry I let us go so long without contact, and now here I’m only calling because I need your help. I’m a terrible friend,” Adrien sighed. “And I should have called you after—” Luka flinched, and Adrien broke off. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“That’s life, Adrien,” Luka shrugged, staring at the floor. “I haven’t exactly been breaking down your door either, so don’t sweat it. You and I just run in different circles right now, and that’s okay. Doesn’t mean we’re not friends. Now you go do your thing, and Louis and I will go do ours, and we’ll see where all this goes.”
Adrien and Louis said a quick goodbye, and Louis reluctantly followed Luka to the studio. Luka sat next to him at the piano, leaving plenty of space between them. “Okay, Louis, we’re just going to see how much you know, okay? No pressure, this isn’t a pass-fail kinda thing. It’s just to help me see where to start with you.” He set Louis some basic exercises, unsurprised when the boy flew through them with an expression that was a mix of melancholy and boredom. Luka worked him up through the exercises until he thought he had a good idea of Louis’ ability, and then set the music books aside.
“Okay,” Luka said, “Now play me something that makes you happy. Anything you want.”
Louis gave him a startled look. Luka just looked back expectantly. Louis’ hands crept to the instrument, and then fell away again. Luka just waited.
“It doesn’t make me happy anymore,” Louis whispered. “It just makes me miss my dad.”
Luka put his hand on Louis shoulder. “That’s okay. And it’s brave of you to admit that. But your dad isn’t gone, Louis. I know that he loves you and he’ll play with you any time you ask. That’s not something you have to give up.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know,” Luka said sympathetically, genuinely feeling for the boy. “Nothing stays the same forever. Sometimes change comes when we’re not expecting it and it’s hard. Especially when you feel like you don’t have any control over what’s happening and you just wish everything could go back to the way it was, but you know it can’t. So,” he finished, dropping his hand, “Try playing something that expresses how you’re feeling. It doesn’t have to be a song, you can just play a few notes or whatever. Whatever comes to mind.”
Louis frowned at the keys for a moment, and then lifted his hands over them. He tried a few notes, and then shook his head, and played the same sequence in a lower register. Luka nodded slowly as the boy played, taking notes in a book he kept to one side.
“Good,” Luka said, when Louis started to fumble and scrunch his face in frustration. “Let’s stop there for now. Let me show you what I heard while you played.” Luka placed his hands over the keys, and played the theme he’d heard repeated in Louis’ experiments.
“Does that feel right?” Luka asked, playing it again.
“Yeah,” Louis said slowly. “I mean, yes, it does.” The tension in his body eased slightly.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Luka said. “It helps, to get it out, so you can feel more like this.” He shifted to a slightly different melody, lighter, more hopeful. “You see? The sadness is still there, but it’s not the whole piece anymore. Then you build from there…” He changed the piece again, crescendoing, adding flares of joy, and emphasizing the hope. “So that even if the sadness never goes away, it doesn’t lock up your heart. You’re more open to the good things that come along—or maybe the good things that were always there. It won’t be the same as it was before—“ he played a light, happy, uncomplicated melody.
“But nothing stays the same forever,” Louis grudgingly repeated.
“Exactly.” Luka took his hands from the keys. “I want you to keep working on your exercises at home, okay?” He stood from the piano and went over to a cabinet on the wall, digging through it for a moment and coming up with three CDs. He brought them back and handed them to the boy. “Listen to these, and when you come back, we’ll talk about which pieces speak to you. We’ll use that to plan our lessons. And any time you want to, we can do what we did today, and maybe help you work through some of those hard feelings. Okay?” He held out his hand for Louis to shake, and the young boy took it. Louis moved slowly, but his grip was firm, and Luka was satisfied. “And if you won’t resent some personal advice,” Luka added, “Don’t stop playing with your dad. It might feel sad now, but it’s okay for you to be sad together. Someday you’ll be able to play happy again, and you’ll want him to be there.”
Louis made a noncommittal noise.
Luka crouched again to meet his eyes. “Listen. I know I don’t need to lecture you about practice, and I can see that playing hurts you right now. I’m going to talk to your dad, and make sure that he and your mom know that you’re allowed to decide on your own practice time, okay? For now, just do what you feel you can do. If you sit down one day to practice and it just hurts too much, it’s okay to get up and walk away. Try again later if you can, but if you can’t, that’s okay too. Music has to come from your heart, and if your heart is hurting too much to make music, then it doesn’t matter how much you practice, you’ll just be making noise, not music. I trust you to be responsible and not blow off practice just for the hell of it, okay? You sit down at that bench every day and you do what you think you can manage. If you can’t make yourself do the exercises, just play like you did today, whatever comes into your mind. In the meantime I’ll write up that little tune you wrote and you can have a copy of it to take home next week.” He paused, and then said, “Let me ask you something, Louis. Do you want to love music again? Is this something that you’re willing to put in the work for?”
Tears sprang to the boy’s blue-green eyes. He didn’t seem able to answer, but Luka nodded anyway. “Okay. Then we’ll get there. A little bit at a time. There’s no deadline on this, Louis. Nobody gets to tell you how long it takes to feel better. You’ll get there when you’re ready, as long as you want to. And my job is to help you and support you while you get there.”
“Like a physical therapist after an accident?” Louis asked, and Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly at the astute comparison.
“Exactly,” Luka smiled. “All right, your dad should be here any minute. While we wait, you want me to show you one of those guitars you were looking at earlier?” Louis’ eyes brightened, and Luka grinned. “All right then.”
He’d been working with Louis for about a month when he met her. Normally, Adrien brought Louis to practice and picked him up personally, but for some business reason or other that Luka hadn’t really bothered to listen to, Louis’ mother was going to pick him up from practice.
They weren’t quite finished when Luka’s doorbell rang. He left Louis in the studio and went to answer it.
Luka opened the door and felt the breath leave his body like he’d been punched in the gut. The dark-haired, blue-eyed woman standing there in a crisp, well-fitted business suit smiled and his pulse pounded in his ears so loudly that he missed her greeting.
Shit, he needed to get it together. He took a deep breath and focused on what she was saying.
“I’m, um, I’m here to pick up my son?”
“You’re Louis’ mom?” he said stupidly.
She raised her eyebrows slightly and God, her eyes were so blue . “Yes, I’m Marinette Agreste.” She put out her hand.
“Right,” Luka rasped, and then cleared his throat as he shook her hand. “I’m Luka Couffaine, Louis’ teacher. Obviously.” He tore his eyes from hers in an effort to reboot his brain and in the process, looked down at their joined hands. A flash of color caught his eye. She had a small, brightly-colored ladybug tattooed on the heel of her hand, just below her thumb. He managed to pull himself together enough to let go of her hand and say, “Please, come in, we’re almost done. Um, I’m sorry to ask you this, but since we’ve never met can I check your ID please?”
She actually looked pleased rather than offended as she complied. The ladybug flashed at him again as she handed him the card. Cute.
“Great, thanks.” He handed her ID back to her with an apologetic smile. “Can’t be too careful. Studio’s back here, just follow me.”
As they approached the studio door, Luka slowed, listening. He held a hand up to stop Marinette, turning towards her for a moment to put a finger to his lips. Very quietly he opened the studio door.
Louis didn’t notice, absorbed in his playing. Luka felt a satisfied smile spread across his lips. The boy was finally playing with his whole heart.
He heard Marinette’s breath hitch at his side, and he glanced down at her. She had one hand over her mouth but he could see the way the smile beneath crinkled the corners of her eyes—eyes that shimmered as he watched. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, then slipped into the room, sliding next to Louis on the piano bench. He didn’t say anything and Louis only glanced at him and continued to play. For a moment, he listened and Louis played, and then Louis’ hands fumbled to a stop.
“That’s as far as I can go,” Louis said quietly. “I don’t know the rest yet.”
Luka held up his fist. “That was awesome. Pound it, little man.” Louis grinned, and met Luka’s fist with his own. Then to Luka’s surprise, Louis threw his arms around Luka’s waist and hugged him, something like a sob escaping him. “Hey, it’s okay,” Luka rubbed the boy’s back. “It feels good, right? To get it out. That’s what the music is for. Now you go home and cry if you need to, but remember what that felt like just now. That’s what you want, okay? That’s what makes it music and not just noise. It’s not about perfection, it’s about emotion and connection.” Louis nodded, face still hidden in Luka’s shirt. “I’m proud of you, kid. I know that was hard. And I think someone else is proud of you too.”
Louis lifted his head and Luka nodded toward Marinette, still standing frozen outside the door. Louis straightened, scrubbing at his face. “Maman, I—“
Marinette just held her arms out, a beaming smile on her face that made Luka’s heart seize up. Shit, what the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even know this woman.
Louis went running into her arms. Marinette squeezed him tight, with no regard for the way he was surely wrinkling her suit. Luka couldn’t clearly hear whatever she whispered, but he could hear the love and pride in her voice. He smiled to himself. Louis might be having a rough time coming to terms with the divorce, but with both parents loving him as hard as they did, Luka wasn’t worried for him in the long term. He’d be just fine.
Then Marinette straightened and turned that blinding smile on him and he actually felt his IQ drop sharply.
“ Thank you, M. Couffaine,” she said feelingly, and it took him half a breath longer than it should have to recognize his own name.
“Call me Luka, please.”
Pink touched her cheeks. “Luka. Thank you. I’m happy to see Louis finding his passion for music again. Adrien was right to say we should bring him to you before we gave up.”
Luka shrugged slightly and smiled. “It’s my job. And my pleasure. Louis is easy to teach. He knows his basics so well, we get to spend most of our time on the fun stuff.” He winked at the boy, who gave him a small smile back.
“Still. I was skeptical when Adrien wanted Louis to continue, and I can see now that he was right,” Marinette said, laying her hands lightly on Louis’ shoulders. “So thank you. I know I don’t need to tell you how much music means to him and his father, but—well. Thank you.”
“Mom,” Louis whispered, “You’re being weird.”
The pink in her cheeks darkened and Luka pressed his lips together to hide his amusement. “We should go,” Marinette said, nudging Louis. “It was nice meeting you, M—Luka.”
“It’s been my pleasure, ma’am,” he said, walking them to the door.
“Marinette is fine,” she said brightly, and if she’d been pretty before when she was composed and professional, she was stunning now that she was effervescing with happiness. Luka opened the door for them automatically, his brain temporarily offline. “Until next time!” she chirped as they left, and Luka watched them until they were back in their car and pulling away from the curb. He stepped back inside and closed the door carefully. He leaned his forehead on it and tried to calm his racing heart.
What the hell was that? He hadn’t been so instantly attracted to anybody in...a long time. A very long time.
Luka turned his back to the door and frowned. Surely, he’d met Adrien’s wife before. He’d been at the wedding, for crying out loud. Although, he hadn’t stayed long. Even the best weddings were awkward, and this one hadn’t been the best, huge and pretentious and full of stuffy people he’d had no interest in. He did vaguely remember meeting the bride and shaking hands with Adrien, but was only a few seconds. He remembered thinking she was beautiful but wasn’t every woman on their wedding day? He probably had barely looked her in the eye, now that he thought of it, eager to pay his respects and be gone, too lost in his own concerns to really be at ease in the stilted atmosphere, especially with Gabriel Agreste watching Adrien’s every move.
He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t matter. She was a client. He wouldn’t see her very often. He could keep a lid on this. They’d see each other only professionally and not very often, so it would be fine.
He would be fine.
“Luka, hey. I just wanted to check in on things since I wasn’t able to be there this week. It seemed like things are going well?”
“Yeah, I think Louis had a bit of a breakthrough this week. He’s letting his feelings back into his music.”
“I heard. You made an impression on Marinette. She was practically gushing when she dropped Louis off.”
“Oh. That was just...lucky timing, I guess. It wasn’t really me, it was Louis.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. That’s the first time she’s admitted I was right about something in years.”