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goggles-mcgee · 1 year

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A Little Birdy Told Me 19

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Summary: Just another day at Gotham Academy, well, Damian wished it was. His acquaintances seem to like to make it anything but.

Damian was not having a good day despite his father’s wishes. For the record, he did try to have a good day, it’s not like he purposefully went into the school with the intent to not, but it seemed like any good luck he had had in the last couple of days (which wasn’t much mind you) ran out. The whispers were what had tipped him off to begin with, usually he could brush them off as nonsensical youth gossip and carry on but the stares coupled with the whispers put him a bit on edge. He hadn’t done anything to his knowledge to warrant the behavior he had observed when he walked in but he didn’t let it show that anything was amiss. He merely strode to his locker and dropped off his afternoon class books before shutting it and locking it swiftly. Damian had tried to be nonchalant about his locker in the beginning, but when it had been broken into in his first week he had been livid, and upgraded the security courtesy of Drake. Apparently some schoolmates just wanted a peek into the newest Wayne’s locker and see if there was anything damning they could use against his Father to sell to some tacky tabloid. Needless to say, he and his father had been less than amused and in Damian’s case, hopeful that he would not have to stay in the ridiculous establishment.

As he had said, luck was not on his side back then, so why would it be now?

“Oh our favorite and sometimes benevolent Ice Prince of Gotham Academy.” an annoyingly familiar voice sang out as the body it belonged to slumped against the locker next to Damian’s. “Have you heard the latest gossip, my liege?”

“Hardy. How many times have I told you I do not listen to drivel?” Damian replied in the most monotone voice he could pull-off. The one that made Drake throw pillows at him because he disliked how robotic it made him sound.

“Oh, of course, of course Milord. But…this “drivel” as you call it has to do with you.” Claude Hardy, active member of their drama club, well-liked, class clown and as always an avid gossiper told Damian. Damian didn’t talk to him a lot, or well, it was better to say he tried not to. With Hardy came Allegra Vogel: accomplished flutist, ballerina, the queen of gossip and his class’ president, Alan Lopez: writer, soccer player and like his friends Hardy and Vogel, a gossip and Sebastian Allaway: one of the school’s best track members and whose parents own and run The Cottage, the restaurant that replaced Bamonte’s Restaurant after Don Maroni died and The Maroni Family dissolved (assumedly). An odd group of…almost friends, more so associates maybe to him, he wasn’t sure yet if they were friends but Damian would admit they were entertaining at the least.

“Can you never just get to the point, Claude?” The newest addition to the friend group, and Damian’s associate circle asked dramatically. Damian’s gaze shifted to look over at Gotham Academy’s latest transfer Chloé Bourgeois. Nicknamed Queen Bee by the friend group, but Damian noticed she always smiled sadly when she was called that. Perhaps her friends noticed too because Queen Bee quickly shortened to just Queenie. Both nicknames were ridiculous if you asked Damian, he somewhat disliked nicknames. It was fine when Dick did it, because he did it out of affection, Jason did it to be a dick and Tim did it to be annoying. Well that was his theory in any case.

“You missed it too Queenie!” Hardy helpfully pointed out.

“Traffic was worse than usual but I’m not that late Drama King. English hasn’t even begun.” Bourgeois snarked back.

“Bourgeois has a point. The school day has barely begun, how have we missed anything vital?” Damian asked with a furrowed brow as he closed his locker and led the group in the direction of their English class.

“It’s sad how you both don’t get here early enough to socialize like proper socialites,” Hardy sighed dramatically before he perked up and looked at them with a glint in his eye. One Damian was not a fan of as it often painted trouble for him. “That class exchange thing, the one Damian’s father is funding, the class arrived the other day and oh boy was Headmaster Hammer not amused!”

Damian stiffened but kept walking, the news startled him but he was not going to let it show. He could not let anyone know he knew about the class already and especially not about Marinette. “Oh? I thought they were supposed to start next week? That’s what Father said. I would also like to point out that one cannot be late to gossip as I was not here to begin with.”

“Exactly. At least Wayne has brain cells that work.” Bourgeois teased.

“Are we teasing Claude?” And now another person was walking with them and Damian had to resist the urge to sigh loudly. It was too early to be this social.

“Don’t we always Allegra?” Bourgeois asked as though the answer was obvious which to be fair it was. The group did tease Claude an absurd amount, but he just made it so easy.

“Oh yes of course. How silly of me to forget.” The other blonde responded with a teasing laugh.

“Why are you guys so cruel? I’m just here, existing. I’m just a little guy.” Claude pouted.

“You are taller than us.” Damian pointed out a bit bitterly. He was of average height for his age but it seemed like a lot of his male classmates surpassed average in grade school.

“ANYWAY. Sir Ice Prince and Queenie, you both weren’t here on Friday-”

“I had an appointment, I told the group this on Thursday.” Bourgeois interjected.

“I didn’t want to leave Richard alone after what happened at Wayne Tower on Thursday so my father excused me from class.” Damian threw in, in some way it was the truth. Dick had been rather…wound up after the situation at the Tower and the run in with Brat Chat hadn’t helped anything. He may be playing it off but Damian knew his older brother well and he knew that Dick was holding everything in still. So it was no surprise that Dick was sticking around Marinette more than the rest of them. He was worried about the girl, that much was clear and it didn’t take a genius to guess it was because he felt responsible for her being Fear Toxined when he was there and able to do something, but the fact of the matter was there really wasn’t much he could have done. Dick was stubborn though and would continue to blame himself until Dupain-Cheng was safe or until Damian could beat sense into him. He had no problem exercising the second option. Dick was too hard on himself.

“That’s understandable. How is he doing?” Vogel asked softly.

“Better.” He replied honestly.

“I’m glad Dick is doing better, but you and Chloé really did miss one hell of an…interesting day.” Hardy continued. Damian merely hummed in response, he knew it was futile to try and argue that he was not interested because Hardy didn’t care. Or just didn’t believe him; either option was equally annoying. “Like I said, that French class the school is doing the exchange with arrived on Friday. Like the whole class. I can tell you guys now, they did not make a good impression on our dear schoolmates.”

“Oh…yeah…the class exchange. You said they’re French?” Bourgeois asked nonchalantly, though Damian could see her body stiffen as stutter as they walked before she collected herself.

“Yeah. I thought they’d be nice to speak with. Especially this small group that had been discussing music but…” Vogel scrunched her nose up, it made her distaste well-known. Though, Vogel was not one to hide how she felt to begin with so the expression wasn’t a surprise. Especially to Damian who had knowledge of the class already and he knew he wouldn’t like most, if not all of them. “Instead of telling me about their songs and band and such they only spoke about this girl in their class. I swear, you would think she was newly Sainted or the like with how they looked at her and talked about her. It was like experiencing a cult without actually being in the cult.”

“Oh yeah. It was some real Jim Jones’ shit.” Hardy readily agreed.

“Language.” Damian couldn’t help but quip. He was too used to telling Jason, Tim and Steph that so they would have to add to Alfred’s ‘Swear Jar.’

“And the teacher acted like their behavior was normal!” Hardy continued as though he hadn’t heard Damian. Brat. “She acted like they were perfect little angels.”

“It was disturbing.” Vogul shook her head.

“The teacher…” Bourgeois was inspecting her nails, feigning disinterest but Damian could see the subtle shake in her hand. “What was her name?”

“Why? Think it might be your old one Queenie?” Hardy asked with a smile but the twitch of his brows told Damian he was worried about the answer Bourgeois might give. “What are the chances of that?”

“Just- What was her name, Claude?”

“Uh, something with a ‘B.’”

“You’re beyond help Claude. How do you not remember?” Vogel asked.

“Look. In my defense, I don’t like her and I don’t pay attention to things I don’t like nor care for.”

“You’re horrible. Her name was Caline Bustier. Her class was supposed to be placed in ours but apparently now, that’s not even certain. I think I heard someone say Headmaster Hammer was not at all pleased with how they came in and demanded their schedules. I guess their class president was supposed to be present but she was not there. Word on the street and from the horse’s mouth is that she went missing after the whole Two-Face, Scarecrow situation at The Tower.” Vogel was as connected as ever. Damian was impressed she had all that info already given it had only been a few days since everything went down. Not to mention a weekend passed, which meant some of her sources were not available to talk with, or so Damian assumed. She probably had them all on speed dial for all he knew.

Another thing he observed? All of them looked at him like he had answers. He did, but he wasn’t going to say anything, it was for Marinette’s safety after all. So he sighed like he did best, “Even if I knew something, I wouldn’t tell you.”

They nodded. “Fair.” Hardy said with a shrug, he was used to those kinds of answers. He would have to be since he had been bugging Damian since he started at Gotham Academy.

Bourgeois had stopped walking and though he wanted to just head into the classroom, it was quite literally fifteen steps away from them and if he went ahead it would be incredibly rude to ignore whatever was bothering the girl. Alfred impressed upon him how a gentleman behaved and leaving Bourgeois in this situation was most definitely against Alfred’s teachings. As though the man himself was watching him, Damian stopped walking and barely held in his complaints. His grandpa was terrifying when he wanted to be, especially when it came to manners. Damian shuddered at the memories of Alfred’s etiquette training but managed to hide it as he turned to face Bourgeois who honestly looked close to passing out right there in the middle of the hallway. “Bustier?” She gasped.

“Chloe?” Vogel asked as she placed a hand on the other blonde’s shoulder.

“Oh my god, they are your old class.” It was a statement rather than a question from Hardy. The Style Queen Heiress’s reaction was all the answer they needed but she did give a stiff nod. The answer was…interesting to say the least but it also put Damian on edge. If that was her old class then she must have known about Lila Rossi, granted she had been at their school for about a year now but due to the family’s research, Damian knew the Lila situation had been going on for about four years. So Bourgeois had been in that class when it was happening, Damian knew the school sounded familiar, he just couldn’t remember why. He, of course, had done his own research into Chloé Bourgeois when she had been announced as the new transfer student but admittedly he hadn’t dug too far as Dick and Alfred told him that was not the way to make friends. He couldn’t help being cautious, it was a skill he had to learn very early in the League, so anyone new that came into his life he couldn't help but be suspicious of.

Honestly, he did the bare basics of a background research on Bourgeois that the fact he was being surprised by a fact he could have found out if it weren’t for ‘manners’ and ‘courtesy’, he would have found out about Bustier’s class before the exchange program was finalized. He could have prevented so many annoyances by arguing with his father about them. Though that would have meant never meeting Dupain-Cheng… he didn’t know how to feel about that. “We can speak about this after class. The bell is about to ring and I for one would rather not be counted late while I have the ability to be on time in mere steps.” Damian announces as he walked on, he would gather whatever information he could from Bourgeois at lunch, he had time.

_______________________

[LUNCH]

Chloé took a deep breath in to calm herself for what felt like the millionth time that day. Ever since she found out her former class was the one that won the spot for the Gotham Education Exchange she had felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest all day. She didn’t want to face them, she wasn’t ready to face them, ever since her move to Gotham Chloé had changed and she knew it was for the better. There was no Hawkmoth in Gotham, so no reason to not feel, and well, Jean-Claude made her go to therapy and though she found it ridiculous to begin with, she had to admit it did actually help if you put the work in. It was the end of collège for her when she realized just how absolutely miserable she was. Her parents’ fighting had gotten worse, her classmates were all sheep, she knew that before but she thought they had grown some kind of backbone when Marinette started standing up for herself but then that liar joined the class and things changed. It was terrifying to see just how fast everyone turned on the person they called their ‘Everyday Ladybug’. If they turned on her that fast, what would happen to Chloé?

What happened was nothing she hadn’t expected. Much like Dupain-Cheng she had been sent to the back, at first she had been there with Sabrina but by 4’eme* the redhead had left her. She had the mercy of not being targeted by some of the classmates “pranks” like Dupain-Cheng had been but no one spoke to her, no one acknowledged her unless they absolutely had to. Chloé had tried to get her dad to do something about it but that was when he and her mother’s fights started getting bad and they paid less attention to her. The only one who seemed to care what was happening to her was Jean-Claude, he tried to help as best he could but there was only so much he could do. She thought Mme Bustier would do something as she had always been on her side but when Chloé tried to complain she was hit with that good old infamous ‘good example’ bullshit. It was like a slap to the face. Usually hearing that would have brought a smug smile to her face because it wasn’t her getting that talk, she was the one who got her way and the others were supposed to be the ‘good examples’.

It threw her for a fucking loop is what it did and it sent her in a deep depression. She was so used to getting her way by throwing tantrums, throwing money or just in general throwing something someone’s way, then all of a sudden she couldn’t get her way by doing what she used to do and she was lost, utterly lost. Her mother and dad kept fighting, sometimes she expected it to get physical with how close both got to one another while shouting and maybe that was the one saving grace that never happened but she never wanted to see her mother throw her heels at her dad ever again. That was as physical as it had gotten and it scared her because one of those times one of the heels almost hit her when she tried to enter the room and beg them to stop fighting. That was the last time she tried. By her last year, 3’eme, they had at least taken to fighting with each other through their assistants and poor Jean-Claude in a ridiculous imitation of Mlle Sancoeur (she never did like when Chloé called her by her first name despite the fact she has known her since Chloé was in diapers.) But when they got lawyers involved they didn’t fight over one thing, one important thing, her.

No. She was thrown around like the shared house furniture trying to be divided, except where they argued about who kept what piece of furniture, they argued why the other should keep her. They did it with her in the room. It was then that she realized that neither of her parents’ really loved her, oh she always knew with her mother there was never any love, but when her dad didn’t fight for her? It hurt more than she cared to admit and that was the day of her final akumatization, Folk-Tail. From pictures she had seen her hair had grown down to her feet in its ponytail but it took on the likeness of a scorpion’s tail, her skin had turned gray but it looked like she had cried after just putting on mascara that was definitely not waterproof since she had black streaks starting from her eyes going down her face, she wore what she always imagined Princess Potentilla wore when she was made to live in the small house by her jealous mother and on top of her ponytail sat a crown of forget-me-nots. The tale of Princess Potentilla and Prince Narcissus had always been her favorite fairytale. It was no surprise that her akuma had been fairytale based since at that moment in time all she had wanted was for her life to be like the fairytales Jean-Claude had often read to her. She just wanted a happy ending.

Apparently her power was to assign roles to people, roles of famous fairy tale characters or creatures that she felt they reflected. Since she herself had been a sad reflection of Potentilla, her father was of course King Cloverleaf and her mother Queen Frivola. Those she did not personally know were given basic roles like a villager or the like. She had gotten to most of her class given they were hanging out at the park that day in celebration of their last year of collège. It was no surprise that she found out Lila had been turned into the Big Bad Wolf, what did surprise her was that she had hit Dupain-Cheng and the girl had become Melinette, the helpful, powerful fairy from her favorite story. It shouldn’t have been so surprising and yet it was. It was after she had been defeated that she reflected on it all, her akuma had been surprisingly truthful with what she herself felt but was too scared to acknowledge. Her father was only interested in what had his attention like the glory of being Mayor and his true love running his hotel much like King Cloverleaf loved being King but only because it gave him the means to hunt to his full pleasure. Her mother was a vain woman who cared too much about her reputation much like Queen Frivola who thought herself the most beautiful woman and threw the most lavish balls but when she saw the beauty of her daughter, she hid her from the kingdom out of jealousy. She had no Prince Narcissus. Yet she had Marinette, determined, helpful, kind Marinette who was very much like Melinette, the fairy who raised the Prince.

If she had hit Hawkmoth with her ‘tail’ he for sure would have been Grumedan the Evil Enchanter. It was that akumatization and everything else going on around her that made her snap. She didn’t want to be like her mother or her father. Hell, she had spent so many years trying to be like her mother in an attempt to get the woman to just get her name right! Chloé didn’t even know who she really was but she wanted to find out and she knew that wouldn’t happen in Paris. She broke down to Jean-Claude about it all, she cried for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care if she got akumatized again, she wanted to cry, she needed to cry. That was when Jean-Claude took charge, he yelled at her parents, demanded a meeting with them and the lawyers outside of Paris because he knew emotions would be high and he demanded parental rights over Chloé. In some ways it shocked her and at the same time it didn’t because he was always the one taking care of her. He wanted her. He cared for her. Chloé had zoned out after his demand because she was just so overwhelmed, someone actually wanted her; she missed the fight and following negotiations. Since her parents didn’t want to take care of her Jean-Claude would be her parent, they wouldn’t change her name since Jean-Claude fully expected her parents to still provide for her.

Oh she knew they fought that with everything they had but Jean-Claude told her after the fact that he essentially blackmailed them. If they provided for her by sending money to her and Jean-Claude after their move and if they kept her as their heir for their respective businesses until she was old enough to decide if she wanted to take over either business, then he wouldn’t go to the media with some illegal stuff he knew had gone on and absolute neglect the put their child through. They folded quickly since there was nothing more important to Audrey and André Bourgeois than their reputations. Before she knew it, after all the necessary paperwork was completed, she and Jean-Claude moved in with his sister Margot in Gotham, New Jersey. It was quite the move and it was hard to adjust but Jean-Claude was patient with her but firm, they arrived in the summer which was the perfect time for her to start therapy apparently. She thought it would be hard adjusting to Gotham and its unique brand of crime but it really wasn’t. Costumed weirdos running around causing havoc? Old news. No Miraculous Cure? Now that, that was scary and took time getting used to.

All in all she thought she was getting better and growing. She had friends, actual friends! She liked hanging out with them, listening to them, just in general being with them, she didn’t have to fake anything around them. Sure she had a hard time with Damian but that was just because he was so standoffish and kind of reminded her of Felix which wasn’t great but she was starting to separate the two in her mind. Though both boys were fond of their families, Damian wasn’t as conniving as Felix nor as fake, he was simply blunt and in some way it was refreshing. She liked their little odd group of friends and one acquaintance who was becoming a friend and she didn’t want anything ruining it. Especially not her old class but she was still fragile and they had the power to set her back and she didn’t want that at all. But Chloé Bourgeois was not someone who bowed to anyone and she wouldn’t start now but…she would talk to Jean-Claude about it all and maybe see if her therapist would be available for more sessions or even on speed dial.

“Chloé?” Allegra’s voice tore through the murky fog that her thoughts had become and she finally realized she had somehow made it to their table.

“Hey. You okay Chlo?” Sebastian asked.

“This is about your former class, is it not?” Damian asked but the way he said it made it sound like it wasn’t a question. It made her wince.

“Damian. A little more tact next time please.” Allegra said as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“But he’s not wrong is he?” Claude asked next.

Chloé looked at her friends and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, her hands clenched and unclenched around her lunch tray that she hadn’t noticed she didn’t set down and she took in another deep breath. “I am…I’m scared. I was not the best person to them as I’ve told you all before, I was a bully. But towards the end of my years with that class things changed. They changed. They didn’t speak to me. At all. Me and Mari-another classmate, we were isolated, basically banished to the back to be all but forgotten. Well…I was. Dupai-the other classmate, she wasn’t as…fortunate?”

“Fortunate?” Allan echoed.

Chloé nodded. “I would take my fate over hers any day. I was forgotten in a way, but they did bad talk me and insult me when they knew I could hear but they never acknowledged my existence. It was like I wasn’t there in the room while they were talking. But Ma-my classmate, they bullied her, worse than I ever did and I admit I bullied her for years. While I did it out of jealousy and to just get her mad or in trouble, they did it to break her. I did nothing to help. I was going through things, yes, but that’s no excuse and I don’t know how I’m going to face any of them.”

It was quiet. Awkwardly quiet. Chloé was close to just pushing away from the table and just storming out because everything she was feeling was too much but a small yet loud ‘Hm’ stopped her and called her attention. It came from Damian who was staring at her with his calculating eyes that gave her the creeps from time to time. It was like he was trying to pull your secrets out of you with his eyes. She stared back at him as he stared at her and leaned his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his face on his hands. “So you know Lila Rossi. Tell me about her and everything she’s done to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Well that was not what Chloé expected him to say.

________________________

Chloe Bourgeois

@Bee-utifulMe

School is barely halfway over and I’m already ready to call my therapist.

#imdonewithtoday #gothamacademy #itsbarelynoon

💞MAPS💞

@ImTheMapImTheMap

RE: Chloe Bourgeois

@Bee-utifulMe

[School is barely halfway over and I’m already ready…]

Mood.

#Iwasnotpreparedforthatenglishtest #TTuTT

Notes:

*4'eme (3'eme) are the last two level of schooling in college (French schooling). College typically goes from ages 11-15, 4'eme is for those 13-14, 3'eme is 14-15.

Prince Narcissus and The Princess Potentilla is a fairy tale that you can read here if you would like context -> HERE

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