Chapter Text
part one: the proposal
chapter one- luka: an intervention
Luka woke to his phone vibrating close to his head, groaning as he looked at the screen to see an incoming call from Juleka. The only times Juleka would call him at this time was bringing bad news: Marinette and Adrien breaking off their engagement two years earlier, and a week before that, calling to tell him about their dad overdosing. In general, they were texting ‘call me’ type people, so this already didn’t feel great. “Hello, sister dearest–” he mumbled, draping his other arm over his eyes, hating how the sun had the audacity to shine.
“Don’t–” he heard her exhale, “Luka, are you okay?”
“I’m fantastic,” he responded on instinct before he hesitated, “Why?”
“Did you see the article I sent you?”
He groaned, sitting up, “No, I was sleeping until you called–” he put her on speaker as he navigated to his messages, which was not just his sister expressing concern, but also Rose, Kagami, Marinette, Zoe, and his bandmates, asking if he had seen the article, and Juleka actually sending the article they were referencing.
Luka wasn’t going to read it, and his sister and friends knew that. But he would read the headline.
Jagged Junior: He Brings Out the Worst in Himself
Acid filled his mouth at the nickname, throwing his sheets back to try and walk it off, “What about it?” he grumbled, his voice sounding so removed from himself as he read the byline, The Music Industry’s Latest Failing: The Price of Fame, something so broad he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, closing out of the article, “Pardon me for not caring about an article that uses one of my album names as a pun–”
“Fine, don’t read the article, I just thought you should see it in case someone asks–” she sighed, her concern mixing with sibling annoyance, “Can we get lunch? It could just be you and me–”
“Rose and Zoe can come too, I don’t care–” Luka hummed as he studied himself in the mirror, his hair too long to leave alone and his blue faded into almost silver. He had every intention of getting his hair done after tour, but the days seemed to be sliding by without progress. “If I schedule a haircut will you promise to not make any comments about how I need a haircut?”
“No. Though, if you shave I won’t comment on how you look like dad,” he shrugged, accepting that pulling his hair back was going to be enough, “Will you be ready to meet at two? And be lunch ready?”
He shrugged, sitting on the floor of his apartment in front of his mirror. He did need to shave– he didn’t mind it for a few days, but there was something he didn’t like about looking in the mirror and seeing his dad, so many more negative memories louder than the positives. Besides, it was something that he could get done in a shorter amount of time, “Sure–”
“You are aware of what you’re agreeing to, right? It’s nearly noon already–”
“Noon?” he yawned, looking around his apartment. It was a mess, but not more than usual, “Oh, that’s so much time– just text me where you want to meet– I’ll be there at two–”
“Luka?”
“Hm?” he hummed, tapping his fingers on his bare leg, his dark blue nail polish mostly chipped away, completely gone on several of his fingers.
“I love you. A lot.”
He wanted to smile, but knew the worry from his sister was concerning, wanting to reassure he was fine, “I love you too, Jules.”
There was a silence before she sighed, “I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah– bye–” he waited for her side of the phone to click before he pulled it from his ear to move over to his contacts. He groaned as he laid back on the cool wood floor as the phone rang in his ear, met with an uncomfortably cheerful, “Hello, Bluebird Styling, how can I help you today?”
“Hello, Chloe Bourgeois,” he mumbled, hearing her sigh, dropping her act as he rubbed his face, “I need to get my hair done.”
“Well yeah, I could’ve told you that, it’s been months,” he heard her typing something, “How short notice do you need this done?” she grumbled, “God, you’re going to take forever– cut, bleach, and dye, I’m assuming? You’re really not in the position to be changing something so consistent up–”
He wasn’t going to read into that comment, but shrugged, running his hand through his hair, “Well, when are you available for all that? There’s no event deadline I’m trying to beat–”
“Thursday at 10,” she said decisively, cutting him off, “And don’t be all– it’s so early– it’s not. Learn to be uncomfortable.”
There was a silence and Luka wasn’t sure what she expected him to say, “Okay,” he said after a moment, “Trust me, I have experienced discomfort before.”
Her sigh was long and exasperated, “You– sure. Fine. It’s going to take like four hours, and I have no desire to talk to you for that long, so bring entertainment, preferably another person.”
“And coffee?”
“And coffee.”
The phone clicked and Luka was left alone again, staring up at the ceiling until his kwami floated into his line of sight, making him smile, “Hey Sass–” it felt like it had been days since he’d seen him, but surely that couldn’t be true, “You ready to see some other kwamis?”
He nodded once, “I think you will greatly benefit from reconnecting with your Miraculous friends,” he said simply as he watched him push himself to sit up, using their conversation as momentum to get ready, “It has been some time since you’ve seen any of them.”
“It hasn’t been that long–” he said as he stood, stretching his arms over his head, “I saw Marinette, Kagami, and Felix at the London show when I was on tour–”
Sass nodded so slightly, “That was in April.”
Luka shrugged, deciding coffee was the most important thing to address first, “Yeah, and it’s–” he hesitated, pressing his lips together at the realization it was now August. “Yeah, well– I’ve just– been busy.”
His kwami didn’t respond, watching as he filled his kettle and set it to boil as he prepared his coffee, his french press still sitting on the counter. He genuinely couldn’t remember what he’d done the past few months– he’d come back from tour and what? There was nothing that could have filled the past two months that he’d just managed to forget entirely– he’d had a birthday too–
“I should reach out to my friends, huh–” he said, mostly to himself, Sass notably nodding in agreement as he rubbed his face, hoping he'd feel a little bit more real after coffee and a shower. This was hardly the first time even this week that he'd had this thought; he had to change something to stop waking and feeling like he had to change something.
—
“This is an intervention.”
Luka sighed as he looked between his sister’s polycule. Juleka was sitting directly across from him, her shorter hair, now entirely a deep dark purple with a bright violet peekaboo visible around her neck, “Couldn’t find more people? I could’ve sworn I had more friends.”
They were at a small cafe tucked away on a side street, which alone should’ve been enough of a red flag that something was up. There was no one else in the cafe with them, the only other customers sitting outside, and the other three getting there earlier than him definitely had a play in that. It did help them that he did end up nearly ten minutes late, somehow fully zoning out for half an hour with no intention or memory of.
“I wasn’t going for quantity, or else we’d have your bandmates– who do support and love you, and were the first on the invite list, all the Miraculers, everyone who’s ever helped with milk frother or Kitty Section, your school friends– no, we’re going for a more quality based intervention.”
It was then Luka processed the empty fifth chair, “Oh god, Jules. No, no, no–” he shook his head, hoping and needing his sister to confirm it wasn’t for their mom, but he knew it was, “Please–”
She shrugged, leaning forward, “We have separately been expressing concern for months now. Your actions have been destructive, to put mildly, and you just haven’t listened, or changed at all,” she was focused so intently on him, definitely having had chosen her words carefully and practiced easily dozens of times with her girlfriends. He actually felt uncomfortable, almost forcing him to look away, “We are so worried about you.”
“You don’t need to be, I’m fine, fantastic, really–” he promised, shaking his head as it was Zoe’s turn to speak up, sitting next to his sister.
“You know we’ve been worried the last few years– since Jagged’s overdose, and then Marinette and Adrien calling off their engagement, which I am not either is the reason, but rather maybe a tipping point?” Zoe accused in an ask, almost impressively, “There’s fun rockstar partying, and then there’s what you’ve got going on– it's kinda…sad.”
“You’ve been teetering the line of okay and not okay for years, and this past– since you’ve come back from tour, really– it’s felt like you’ve been spiraling more and we want you to know we’re here to help,” Rose spoke up, smiling as she looked between her girlfriends, nodding in agreement. “We’ve seen you happy and thriving before, Luka, and we want to help you get back to that.”
Embarrassment wasn’t an emotion Luka felt often, but he felt his face heat, and he couldn’t tell if it was from their words of affection (unlikely, they’d said sappier stuff before), or the sheer information they’d apparently been collecting on his life. He leaned back in his seat, wanting to sink lower and hide under his bucket hat he opted to wear after realizing his hair was unable to be controlled in the time he had, “What did that article say–”
The girls looked between each other, as if unsure whether to answer before they all three started at once:
“The good news is that it was long, so few people got to the worst–”
“Got a bit graphic talking about you having sex–”
“I learned more about you in this thesis of an article than I knew from growing up with you–”
Luka pressed his lips tight, only half making out each of their sentences and not wanting to decide which to dive into. He knew dozens of articles had been written about him in the recent months alone, but for all three of them to read and be concerned was bad. He’d even received messages from Kagami, who he only heard from on the rarest of occasions. “The group chat had a lot to say too, huh–”
“It’s only been really bad since you came back from tour–” Rose defended, the other two nodding in agreement, seemingly ignoring his acknowledgement of the group chat which he knew existed.
He stood, earning a concerned lean closer from the three of them, “I–” he swallowed, needing air, needing to take this information and change his life, not because he was doing bad, but because they were concerned and he tried so hard to avoid this very thing. “I thought interventions were best done not in public–"
“Luka.”
His mother's voice cut through all his thoughts, grinding them to an immediate halt. She was there, and he turned towards her, genuine concern so loud on her typically soft features. This was all so overwhelming– he'd known what it was like to drown, to be so all-consumed by dread and regret and sorrow, but that wasn't now. That wasn't even recent.
“Mom–” he felt his voice falter under him, “I'm– I'm fine, really–”
“It's okay if you're not–”
But he was– he went through everything to avoid this exact situation– to see those he cared so much about so worried, so concerned– misplaced entirely, in a way he wasn't ready for, somehow having not seen this coming. This simply could not be real.
His mothers arms were around him as the words began to spill from his mouth, a mix of justifications, promises, reassurance, near begging for them to not worry– he worked so hard for them to not worry.
“Luka–”
“–a misunderstanding, a few slip ups surely can’t–”
“Luka.”
He stopped, knowing his attempts at downplaying his spiral wasn’t going to help, his mom’s hands on his shoulders, “I am worried about you. We are worried about you.”
Luka inhaled slowly, closing his eyes to keep his tears from falling, “I’m fine.”
“That is exactly what your dad said in the last conversation I had with him before he was found overdosed in the hotel room,” his mother said, the concern softening her hard edge, “We want to help you before you get to that point. We are all here for you to help before it gets worse.”
He didn’t want to cry, pressing his fingers tight to his lips, not sure he had the words or energy to explain what he was doing was actually to control and prevent the inevitable snapping and spiral the moment he was forced to face his life. There was no way he could explain it to anyone at this table, and they were the ones who were caring the most.
It was Juleka’s hand on his that broke him, forcing him to sit, his knees so close to failing him as he closed his eyes, “Luka, we love you.”
The tone had shifted, a softer, almost pity he knew they were trying hard to avoid, but it was towing the line so carefully it slid at each word, “What can we do to help?”
—
“So how were you the one assigned to come with me?”
They were at Chloe’s boutique for his appointment, Luka waiting in the chair (he got there early to minimize Chloe’s harassment, and even still she wasn’t ready for him) as Zoe sat in a chair to the side.
“First, I wasn't assigned, I volunteered entirely willingly. Rose had a doctor’s appointment and can only have one person go with her,” Zoe explained, scrolling through her phone, “And Juleka hasn’t gone in a while because of meetings for tour prep, and also,” she shrugged, locking her phone to look at him, standing up, “I think I like you the most right now.”
He sighed, kicking the ground to rotate the chair away to face the mirror, “Juleka’s still upset, huh?”
“She’s not upset, she’s concerned, and honestly, with every right to be. We’ve been worried for you for a while now, but did you read that article?” Luka met her gaze in the mirror, raising an eyebrow, “Of course you didn’t–”
“Did it call me a sad, drunk nepo baby who sleeps around? I’ve heard it all before–”
“Well, yeah– and that was just in the first paragraph,” he watched her place her hands on his shoulders as he fought back a wince at the contact, “You released and were so successful and stable with raptured rhapsody, and like, only a few months after Flower Language, you really started struggling– and you got worse. Your third album– you bring out the worst in me– that was different– you were different. It was about something–”
“bringing out the worst in me–” he corrected out of instinct, it was a petty nuanced difference, but a highly debated one between his bandmates, “I know the first two were entirely written by and about me, but Leon and Mattie helped a lot with that one too– it’s not about anything–” it was about too many things, and notably one he could not discuss, especially with Zoe, “Just about life being shitty–”
“Then why don’t you talk about it?”
He shrugged, “I don’t want to over explain it. No one has a wrong interpretation of it– yeah, I'll admit Flower Language was much more straightforward on what it was about–”
“marigold isn’t about Marinette,” she said in such a statement Luka knew denial wasn’t the route to take, Zoe watching him in the mirror, “Don’t forget I was there.”
Luka stared at her, hating more that it was far from the first time he'd been told the statement so confidently. It wasn't about Marinette, but Marinette thought it was about Marinette, and more importantly, Adrien thought it was about Marinette, and he needed to keep it that way.
“I don't think I'm the only person who has made that connection, you know–” she hummed, shrugging and pulling her attention towards his hair, “I love your blue, especially when it’s actually, well, blue.”
He stared at her another moment, taking her shift in conversation willingly, “I think I want a teal– I like your dye. Do you want to do it?”
“No. Chloe’s the hair person in our family– she did this too–” she said, smiling as her sister approached, “She could match the colors really closely if you really want that. Couldn’t imagine why you’d want to match me, though–”
Chloe folded her arms, her face set in a characteristic scowl as she studied Luka in his reflection, “What.” he asked after a moment, exasperated and annoyed with any speculation.
“I’m just amazed you look worse in person.”
“Thanks,” he said deadpan as Zoe groaned.
“Chlo– he’s going through a lot of changes right now, and we’re trying positivity first– could you be a bit nicer? Also you’re going to make him look just that much better–”
She looked at her sister as she stepped behind him, “Oh, is this all because of that article? It was so long, I doubt people read it all– and what, they thought contrasting you to Adrien would make the impact that it definitely did not– to be associated with Adrien, whose dad was evil and he was the hero chosen to fight him, saving Paris from him and Cerise– Chrysalis– whatever she was called– that’s the whole pity narrative the same tabloid published years ago, they can’t suddenly villainize him. He’s a pretty, soft spoken model boy who now teaches literal five year olds– honestly helped your case,” she shrugged, “Did you read it?”
Luka shook his head as she ran her hands through his hair, “No, and I’m not going to.”
“Good, don’t waste your time, I can give you highlights–” she paused, definitely knowing that was not what he wanted, “First, what am I doing? Anything you say will be better than this, so no wrong answers.”
He shrugged, genuinely not caring, “Zo, how do you think I should cut my hair?”
Her eyes lit up as the rest of her hesitated, “For real?”
“Well, I can’t seem to make a single correct choice in my life, so maybe if someone else does for me, I’ll at least have someone to blame–” he was joking and she didn’t care, stepping up beside her sister as they moved around his head.
He stopped listening, partly wanting to be surprised, and partly considering Chloe’s words. Why did they drag Adrien into it? They hadn’t been in a band together in nearly five years and Luka hadn’t even seen him in months. No one was associated with Adrien these days, and Luka only saw him at the Miraculous holiday party and only heard from him via an occasional check-in text, their days of random phone calls and relying on each other when in distress seemingly behind them. And Luka hated that.
“This was an undercut–” Chloe was explaining, holding up his grown out hair in disbelief, “This is how long it’s been since he’s come let me fix him– it’s hardly blue anymore–”
“Oh fuck, that is only a year of growth, huh–” Zoe considered, seemingly studying him in a different lens, “And the undercut– okay, well six months nearly at this point–”
He shook his head, a pathetic attempt at an apology, “I meant to come after tour, but–” he shrugged, unsure how to explain that the stillness in the contrast made his thoughts so much more real, and he had to fill every single waking moment doing something. And that something just never happened to be booking a hair appointment, simply because it took more planning than getting crossfaded and hooking up with random people at every bar north of the Seine.
Chloe made a sound of partial disappointment, partial acceptance, “Well, it’s still after tour, huh,” she looked at her half sister, sharing some kind of thought exchange, “Are you still trying to grow it out more? You Couffaines have the best fucking hair– it’s only been a year? Constant bleach and color and this–” she groaned, running her hands through his hair, “Also– shaved sides? Opinion on that?”
“That's fine,” he said, truly not minding it. Whenever he would have his hair buzzed down was always an invitation for Mattie to playfully scratch, the only silver lining of the year of his buzzcut. “I think fixing my reputation is a little more important than my desire to be able to braid my hair right now.”
She hesitated, watching him intently, “I'm not cutting it all off, no need to be so dramatic– I just think you should fix this undercut ordeal– I have an idea, just sit and be quiet.”
Luka was quite okay with that, not caring and not really having the energy to care. Zoe nodded slowly, seemingly not understanding their relationship– Luka couldn't explain it either, not ever being the closest with her, but when Adrien mentioned off-hand that Chloe was trying to be a better person, and Zoe mentioned she was starting her own hair salon, he decided to give her a chance. And truly, while he doubted Chloe would agree, in time he really began to view her as a friend.
Chloe was mumbling under her breath, “Surely looking like this is bad for your band's rep or something–”
Not sure if that was an invitation to answer, Luka continued to watch her, “Well– milk frother currently has this umbrella agreement– not a full record label or agreement, just a representation agreement– Penny works with them to sort through public appearance stuff– the safety nonsense that none of us wanted to deal with–” he shrugged, and she stopped moving to stare at him, answer enough she didn't actually care, “Basically, we're not allowed to cut our hair, or dye it ourselves with the fear that we’d do something impulsive–”
Zoe seemed hesitant, “And they saw this as a better alternative?”
Her sister nodded, “I would’ve cared more about how often you’ve gotten caught with your dick out in back alleyways, rather than your hair, but I wasn’t the one arranging that.”
“Well, when I created milk frother, I was very much the ideal perfect child– sorry for falling from grace so abruptly even you’ve forgotten how I was,” he mumbled.
Back when he’d started, his main goal and purpose was to just make music, and the fact that one of his songs, and then as a domino effect, his album, and every album he’d released since had blown up, was not his intention. His success came in-step with Kitty Sections, and he really truly did believe they deserved it so much more. Juleka had taken over lead pretty early on, and everyone else was beyond willing to follow along.
Then Ivan was replaced by Zoe, and the new five of them thrived for a year but Nathalie's unexpected death really got to Adrien, and no one could blame him for leaving. Luka really shouldn't have stuck around the following months, but the contract they were forced into with Bob Roth was ending and he had to make sure Kitty Section would be entirely his sister's before he left.
And he did achieve that. But it was messy.
“Listen, I think you could be doing worse–” Chloe shrugged, earning a sharp look from her sister, “Being a slut and turning to drugs is hardly the worst thing you could be doing–”
“Are you going to pet my hair and tell me how good I'm doing?”
Chloe’s shears were so immediately close to his neck that it made Zoe gasp, but Luka couldn’t help but smile as she leaned closer, “I know we’ve had this fun thing going for a few years now, but don’t think I wouldn’t hesitate,” she tapped the side of her sheers against his chin, “Gross, fuck you, and I already have a platonic make out partner, so truly fuck the whole way off.”
“A platonic make out partner– is that what we’re into these days?” Luka smiled teasingly as Chloe rolled her eyes, standing back up.
“I dunno, I have two girlfriends,” Zoe said, still cautiously looking between the pair, “I can't pretend to understand how you two have gotten along so well these past years– you typically don't have a witness for these appointments–”
Luka shrugged as Chloe worked on parting the back of his head, “I really respect Chloe– watching her make the efforts and acknowledge her mistakes in the past– I'll admit I wasn't the first on board– Adrien and you–” he nodded to Zoe, “Really believed in her, and honestly the amount of effort and work she's put in on bettering herself, I'm really proud of her.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Chloe mumbled, her face a slight pink, hating whenever he praised her, “How did you end up being the worst miraculous holder? I always thought it would be Kim.”
“Why? Because he was the only one to ever have a crush on you?”
“How did your intervention go?” she snipped right back, making Luka press his lips tight, “Second one I knew about before it happened and I wasn’t invited–”
Zoe threw her hands up, “You’d be so bad at an intervention– you just threatened to cut his throat with scissors for making a joke–”
“I wasn’t joking–” Luka mumbled, trying to not smile as he made Zoe sigh and Chloe stop moving to glare, “It was fine. Thank you for asking, which you clearly are because you care about me, and not because you want the hot gossip and details of my life falling apart,” she didn’t react as he continued, “I have daily check-ins with the girl group, hence our company today.”
“You know I’m not actually surprised to see my sister– and I did request you bring someone to entertain me, or has your drug-induced brain managed to forget that? You did bring coffee–”
“I am passably sober–” he mumbled, earning a sharp look from Zoe, “More than that, I'm kidding– weren’t you supposed to go on tour?”
Zoe nodded, typing something for a moment before responding, “Yeah, we’re going in October, and then the second half in February– we’ve been meaning to ask if you want to help with the merch booth in the February half, but honestly, it’s been quite dependent on your ability to keep your pants on–”
“Oh, but hooking up post-show is so fun–” Luka joked, finally relaxing in the chair, “There’s the rush of post-show endorphins and then getting a fresh orgasm– nothing can really beat that–”
Zoe was glaring through her bangs, barely looking up from her phone, “Don’t you ever say the word ‘orgasm’ in my presence again.”
Chloe nodded in agreement, “The term fresh orgasm is easily one of the worst word combinations you've ever said, and you wrote the bridge for fleeting moments,” her sister did a poor job trying to hide her snort of agreement, covering her mouth as she nodded, and Chloe continued, “Listen, hooking up with someone for an article is the lowest of low–” she mumbled, focusing on dividing his hair as Zoe continued to nod in assumed agreement, “Especially if they talk about how you are in bed–”
Luka groaned, covering his face with his hands, “I don’t want to hear about this–”
“Not the worst part– what do you have against kissing though?”
“I’m not discussing this–” he grumbled through clenched teeth, hating knowing even the slightest bit of the contents of the article.
“Are you fixing your nails next? Fuck, you’ve really fallen apart– oh I bet Lucie would be willing to help– she’s been looking for more clients–” Luka shrugged, not caring about most of the words coming from her mouth. He was doing this mostly for his sister, their mom, Rose, and Zoe simply because he hated that what he was doing was worrying them. He didn’t care what other people thought, or their speculations on why, and how, none of them were even remotely correct in guessing what was wrong with him, and he had zero desire to explain himself if he was even legally allowed to.
Zoe was staring at him in the mirror, thinking hard about something, “I think you should reach out to Adrien.”
He should’ve expected his name from her mouth, but it still caught him off guard, “Have you talked to him recently?”
She nodded, “Yeah– we had brunch…a few weeks ago?” she hesitated as if trying to visualize the actual date, “Bit longer, I guess– it was right after school let out, and he did go to visit Nino, but he has been back for a while now–” Zoe looked at her sister as if she had more information, “When have you seen him last?”
Chloe nodded in agreement as she clicked in the guard on her clippers, ignoring her question, “If you’re looking for boring stability from an ex model, Adrien is your person,” she hummed, “We meet up every few months and he never has anything going on. Worse in the summer and he doesn’t have a class to talk about– god, maybe it’s better, not needing to listen to him talk about his students–”
“Didn’t you have a crush on him? When he was with Marinette?”
Luka felt his mouth open, not expecting or wanting Zoe to force him to acknowledge that part of his past to Chloe. He did and she knew he did. It was a fact that had managed to stay between them as a group, and despite the fact it was nearly a decade ago, he really didn’t want it getting out. Especially because he was fairly certain a part of him still did. “No.”
“You’re in the minority then,” Chloe mumbled, setting the clippers down to adjust his part again, thankfully oblivious to the moment he shared with Zoe, “He’s honestly the best person I know– ridiculous that Dupain-Cheng was the only one who got a fair chance with him– damn near views me as a sister at this point–” she paused a moment as she focused on his hair, “Always thought he was going to be gay.”
“Hate the way you said that,” Zoe quipped, studying Luka before looking back to her phone, “Not my place to talk about it, but I bet he'd talk to either of you about it– last time it came up, he was considering–” she looked at Chloe, who notably seemed annoyed her sister was agreeing with her, “I really don't think he’s dated anyone– publicly– since Marinette, that feels like something the tabloids who love writing about you would pick up–”
He nodded, not wanting to be in, nor even bearing witness to this conversation. Even if Adrien was attracted to men in any regard, the odds of him being interested in Luka in that way was unlikely. The only reason he even considered they were still friends after all this time was because of Adrien’s loose requirements for friendship (he had to like the person), and even then Luka found himself hesitant. At least if he was straight there’d be no hypothetical maybe’s, “I’m getting bangs again in this mystery cut?”
Chloe nodded, “I hate seeing your forehead,” she said, picking the clippers back up, “Only thing I'll ever overrule if you opt against it–”
“Didn’t you let him have a buzz cut for a year?”
Luka’s gaze met Chloe’s in the mirror for the briefest of moments before she looked away, waving her sister’s question off, “That was different.”