Chapter Text
“So this is what you did with the money your grandmother left you?” Adrien looked at the ancient ice cream truck skeptically. “Did you get a receipt?”
“Ha ha, Trust Fund Kid. Look, I know it’s rough but it was super cheap--”
“You don’t say.”
“And,” Nino continued, ignoring his best friend, “I’ll be able to use the rest of the money to fix it up and get some good equipment put in.”
“So people will pay to have you drive this thing places and play music?”
“That’s the idea.”
Adrien grinned. “That’s actually pretty cool.”
“You don’t have to act so surprised, dude.” Nino bumped his arm. “I mean, I’ll have to get my name out there first so people will actually care enough to want to pay me. There’s this traveling food truck festival tour thing that is happening this summer. I’m hoping I can get the truck ready and latch on to that.”
“Making smooth tunes while people enjoy weird food hybrids?”
“Something along those lines.”
Adrien clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, man. Maybe if I get done with the press junket for the new line, I can join you at some point.”
“That would be awesome.”
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After a month of nonstop work, an empty savings account, and an extra line of credit, Nino nervously pulled his new truck into his allotted space at the first stop. He got out and looked around at the other trucks parking and setting up. To his left was a pink and white striped truck with a black and white polka dotted canopy. A chalkboard easel set up in front had “La Petite Croissant” written in neat pink script. His eyes glided past to the black truck beyond with a flaming calzone painted on the side.
“Awesome,” he grinned, crossing the field to grab a bite before he got started.
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It had been four hours and no one had requested anything, but he had made five euros in tips so the day wasn’t a total loss. He frowned down at the clear tip jar. Of course his calzone had cost ten euros so…
He leaned out the window to gage how the other trucks were doing. The crowd had died down for the most part in the afternoon lull but there was still a decent amount of people. Nino wondered if he should change the tone of the playlist when the sun set or if the upbeat style he had been playing during the day would suffice for the nighttime crowd.
Laughter caught his attention and he looked out at the pink and white truck he had seen earlier. A line of at least ten people filed out from the window. Nino frowned, glancing at the variety of empty trucks around the circle. Surely people didn’t love croissants that much. You could get them at every corner bakery in France.
“Is this your first tour?”
Nino jumped in surprise and released a very manly yelp after his head hit the bottom of one of the speakers. He pulled off his cap to rub his head and scowled. A woman standing just outside his truck laughed freely, seemingly unabashed at being the cause of his pain. “Sorry,” she shrugged with a smirk.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “Uh, yeah, this is my first tour. First stop actually.”
“What?” She motioned to the speakers and then pointed to her ear.
Nino popped himself in the forehead and motioned to the side door. He stepped down to find her already there, smug expression in place.
“Yeah, this is my first stop,” he repeated.
“I didn’t think we’d seen you before.”
“We?”
She pointed to La Petite Croissant. “My best friend and I run that truck. This is our third tour.”
He frowned. “Looks like a pretty long line. Does your friend need help?”
The woman waved a hand. “She’s fine. She thrives under pressure.”
Nino pursed his lips but didn’t argue.
“I really like this idea.” She put a hand on the truck. “These things needed some livening up. It can get pretty boring sometimes.”
“Thanks. I’m hoping it’ll work out.”
She stepped back to look at the artwork. “DJ Wayzz, huh? You one of those guys who thinks things are cooler with a ‘z’?”
“Are you saying they aren’t?” he countered.
She laughed and stuck out her hand. “Alya.”
“Nino.” He shook her hand.
Alya glanced past him and sighed. “The line just keeps getting longer. I better get back.”
“You guys are the busiest truck here. Are the croissants magic or something?” Nino chuckled.
“Marinette’s are,” Alya winked. “You should come check them out. I’m sure she’d like to give you a taste.”
She gave him a little wave and strode across the paved area, slipping into the side of the truck.
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“You were right, M. He’s definitely cute.” Alya scooted past Marinette and moved to the window. “Have you been helped, Slick?”
The short man swallowed loudly. “Y-yes.”
“Why don’t you slide on over here to the side for me while the beautiful Marinette works her magic on your order?” she grinned. “Next!”
“Are you going to ask him out?” Marinette smeared a dollop of her homemade sauce on a slice of fresh bread.
Alya laughed, winking at the customer she was helping. “Not for myself, I’m not.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means you saw him walking around and thought he was cute and I got a closer look to confirm he was actually cute and you’re going to ask him out.”
Marinette wrapped up the sandwich and dropped it in a bag. “Thank you so much and I hope you have a lovely day,” she smiled, handing it to the short man. He flushed and ducked his head, hurrying away.
“Another one bites the dust,” Alya smirked.
Marinette swatted at her butt and took the receipt to start on the next order.
“So are you going to ask him out or do you need me to do it for you?”
She laughed. “I’m not asking some random guy out!”
“I’d let you ask me out,” a guy at the window said, voice hopeful.
Alya snickered and Marinette turned a bright red.
“She’s not really taking new suitors right now, Stud,” Alya winked. “Would you like to add a fresh baked cookie to your order today?”
The guy nodded and leaned on the thin counter. “What about you, Glasses? Are you free?”
Alya leaned closer and bit her lip. “I’m nobody’s sloppy seconds. That’ll be eleven euros and don’t forget our tip jar,” she smiled sweetly.
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Nino’s stomach rumbled but he looked down at the lackluster tip jar. He could wait until he got home. He cut off his playlist and began to shut things down. His phone buzzed and he grinned at Adrien’s photo lighting up his screen.
“Hey, man, how’s Milan?”
“I’m actually in Tokyo now. Jet lag is for real,” Adrien yawned. “I wanted to see how your first stop went.”
“Uh, it was good.”
“That was convincing.”
Nino chuckled and leaned against the edge of the soundboard. “It wasn’t quite as successful as I was hoping but I did hand out a few business cards. I’ll just have to keep at it. This was only the first weekend so I’m sure next weekend will be better.”
“Did you meet any hot girls?”
“Is this where I ask you the same questions because I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.”
Adrien huffed. “I’ll have you know I’ve been a perfect gentleman.”
“Nathalie been on your case again?”
“She told me if she saw me even flirt with someone, male or female, she was putting me in only underwear shoots for a year. You wind up in one measly tabloid and the shackles come out.”
“It was four tabloids and you were completely nude in two of them,” Nino corrected.
“Tequila is not my friend.”
“No, it is not. There was one girl I talked to but she was a bit abrasive.”
“Sounds hot.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You should send me pictures next weekend. I’m dying over here.”
“You’re literally surrounded by models.”
“I meant pictures of your truck and the festival, but yeah, pretty girls and guys would be nice to see too.”
Nino laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. Thanks for calling, man. I’ve been a little lonely.”
There was a pause and Adrien sighed. “You know I want to make a joke about giving you all my loving if I was there.”
“Yeah, yeah, I miss you too, jerk.”
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“Okay, Lahiffe, Week Two. Let’s kick its ass.” Nino hit play on his list and saw people start glancing his way. There was already a line formed at La Petite Croissant and Alya stuck her head out the window to shoot him a thumbs up as she bobbed her head. He grinned and waved back.
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“Go talk to him.”
“We’re kinda busy right now, Al.” Marinette eased past her to open the tiny fridge.
“Pish tosh. We’re always busy. That’s not going to change,” Alya replied, rolling her eyes. “You said you want that on sourdough, sweets?” The customer nodded and Alya turned, bumping her hip into Marinette’s. “You need to get laid.”
“Alya!” Marinette looked back at their line of customers in shock. The woman at the counter tried to hide her grin.
“What? It’s just a fact of life.”
“I’m not going to hook up with someone we’re going to be stuck beside the rest of the summer.”
“Fine, go hump spaghetti tacos guy across the circle. I’m sure he’s down for a good time.”
“For goodness sake!”
“What guy are you eyeing?” the customer asked.
Marinette opened her mouth to answer but Alya jumped in first. “The cute guy in the red cap manning the music truck. Have you been over there?”
The woman shook her head and glanced to the side. “You said he was cute?”
Alya quirked an eyebrow. “And on reserve.”
“You can’t reserve a cute, single guy,” the woman argued.
“Fine, you can’t have your turkey on sourdough,” Alya shot back.
“I paid for that!”
Marinette rolled her eyes and handed the woman her order. “Sorry about that. Have a lovely day.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Alya and walked off in a huff.
Marinette sighed. “Could you not?”
“Probably,” Alya shrugged. “Next!”
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“How was week two?” Adrien asked, last word coming out as a groan.
“Please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, dude,” Nino grimaced, closing the security shield over his window.
“I’m getting a massage, you weirdo.”
“Don’t call me in the middle of a massage and act like I’m the weird one, Agreste.”
Adrien laughed and murmured something away from the phone. “So tell me how it went. Did you see hot, abrasive girl again?”
“Just for a minute. One of the guys from the calzone truck said some of the vendors go out to a bar on Wednesday nights. I was thinking of trying that this week so I can meet some people.”
“I think that’d be good for you.”
“Yeah,” Nino yawned. “I’m pretty wiped so I think I’m going to finish closing down and head home.”
“Talk to you soon.”
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“You missed drinks!” Kim exclaimed, clapping a hand on the window edge.
Nino scrunched his nose. “Sorry, man, some things came up.”
“You better not bitch out on us this week, Lahiffe.”
“I’ll try not to,” he grinned. “Do all the vendors go?”
“Most of them. There are a few of the older guys who aren’t so into it.”
Nino nodded. “Gotcha.”
Kim looked to the side and waved. “I gotta go give Mari and Alya hell for not showing up either. Good luck today!” Nino watched him jog over to La Petite Croissant and make a loud whooping noise as he pulled himself halfway through the window, laughter floating on the air.
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Nino’s tip jar was mostly full and he was feeling downright giddy. The lunch crowd had dissipated and his stomach was reminding him that is had been hours since his last meal. He did a quick check of his playlist and slipped out of the truck, surveying his options. He saw Alya crossing the pavilion, drink in hand, and he glanced back at La Petite Croissant. There was surprisingly only one person in line so he ambled over.
The man in front of him stepped away with a bag and Nino looked up and felt his breath catch in his chest.
Marinette stared back at him, pink lips pursed in a surprised ‘o’. She shook her head quickly and sent him a blinding smile, cheeks flushing. “Hi! What can I get you?”
“Uh.” His eyes searched the neatly typed menu in front of him wildly. “Croissant?” he mumbled, feeling his face warm.
She bit her lip and he felt his heart beat pick up. “You want anything on it?”
“No,” he croaked.
“Oh, okay,” she nodded. “Sometimes I like them plain too. I’ll warm it up for you. That’s when they’re really good.”
She turned her back to him and Nino released his breath in a whoosh, looking down at his shoes.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” Marinette asked a few moments later, offering him the bag and taking the money in his outstretched hand.
“Say something, you idiot,” he thought. “Anything. Say literally anything and stop staring at this beautiful girl like some creep!”
“Bread makes you fat!” he blurted.
She blinked. “Um…”
“I have to go.” Nino stiffly turned and walked back to his truck. Marinette leaned out the window to watch him go and then frowned down at the change he had left.
Alya danced over to the truck with a huge smile. “Well?!”
“He told me bread makes you fat and then walked away,” Marinette replied, furrowing her brows.