Disclaimer: I don't own pokémon, HOWEVER all the lyrics in this story are my own (sorry if they're completely terrible - I tried my best!)

So I really shouldn't be starting a new story but I can't shake this idea, and just had to write it down. I'm really excited for it and I've got a lot planned. Note: this fic focuses mainly on Dawn and ikarishipping, though there will also be pokeshipping - but I can't promise the pokeshipping will be very good because I'm pretty bad at writing MistyxAsh even though I love them as a couple, but that's why I'm including it in this fic: so I can get better at it!

Also, as anyone who's read any of my other pokémon fics will know, I am a massive contestshipper. However May and Drew aren't going to be in this fic (sadly), or at least not as main characters, but they might make a few guest appearances later so look out for that. They do get mentioned though, as you'll se in this chapter.

All the main characters (Dawn, Paul, Misty, etc.) are in their early 20s. I've tried to keep their early lives as canon as possible but I've not watched the anime in several years so there may be a few inaccuracies - feel free to point out any mistakes I make so I can correct them. Anyway, that's enough talking from me - onto the story!

Enjoy.


Chapter One

~ Not Cinderella ~

Paul Shinji sat in the darkest corner of his basement, strumming his guitar without playing any particular piece. Reggie had forced him to learn when he was younger, along with making him attend singing lessons as a compromise for his own desire to learn the drums. At the time he had been resentful, but those days were long gone. Music was all he had now.

It had been too long since he had last played his guitar. Two years ago he had put it down and left it to gather dust. He'd gone travelling, much like he used to when he still dreamed of becoming a pokémon master. He'd seen some amazing sights and met some interesting people. But every moment he was away, something inside him yearned to be home.

"Why do I still feel restless?" he muttered, strumming harder as frustration sped up his fingers.

Deep down, he knew why. But he could never say it out loud. Instead, he let the lyrics simmering in his mind flow freely from his tongue.

After he had finished composing the rough, unpolished song he stopped his playing and laughed darkly to himself. "At least my agent will be pleased – it looks like I'm returning to the music industry after all."


"What about this one?" Misty asked, holding up a shimmery, coral-pink sequin-heavy dress. It reflected all of the lights in the small store, creating quite a blinding effect.

Dawn wrinkled her nose. "Too shiny."

Misty raised her eyebrows. "You like shiny things." She looked pointedly at Dawn's skinny jeans that sported pockets embroidered with tiny silver studs. A nervous shop assistant hovered in the background, pretending to busy herself with putting new stock out while she was really just trying to sneak some peaks at the only customers. Dawn could see her out of the corner of her eye, and a tiny smile tugged the corners of her mouth up. She was used to this kind of behaviour, and she was glad that for once the person displaying it was trying to be discreet.

"I like sparkly things – there's a difference," Dawn informed her, flicking absently through the reduced sales rack. She didn't really need to be conservative with her money, but it was an old habit she'd picked up as a teenager that proved hard to shake.

Misty sighed. "All right, back to the drawing board. This is a pretty small shop though – are you sure we shouldn't go to the big department store in town?"

"Mm-hm," Dawn confirmed, scanning a floaty, pale blue dress which had caught her eye. Taking it off the rack, she brought it to the mirror and held it up against her small frame. Soft music played in the background, and she began unconsciously swaying to the beat. "Everyone will be shipping at Marlos – and I mean everyone. This is a big deal Mist; I need the perfect dress for the occasion."

Misty scowled. "I told you not to call me that. That looks nice, by the way – you going to try it on?"

Dawn shook her head. "No, it's more of a casual dress than a party one. Though I might get it anyway – I do really like it. But I'm looking for a special dress, 'the dress', if you know what I mean."

"Not really. Anyway, I don't get why you're going to all this trouble. It's just a party; you go to like three parties a week."

Dawn rolled her eyes. Misty was exaggerating; she wasn't that much of a socialite. "This isn't just any party. This is Barry's welcome home party – and everyone who's anyone will be there. I have to look better than I ever have; as his girlfriend I have a certain standard to live up to," she attempted to explain for what must have been the twentieth time that week.

Misty had wandered over to the other side of the store while her friend was talking, and now she withdrew a completely black dress. It was made of flowy material that was gathered at the waist with a pattern of six silver gemstones and ruched out from the waist into a skirt that would probably barely reach mid-thigh. "How about this?"

Upon seeing it, Dawn gasped in awe. "Oh – oh, Misty, it's perfect. I'll go try it on!"

In the background, the shop assistant's eyes lit up. Was Dawn Berlitz really interested one of their small chain dresses?

Misty followed dutifully to the changing rooms, frowning at the hovering assistant until she scurried off to the far side of the store. As Dawn changed, Misty continued their conversation. "In my opinion it's Barry who has a standard to live up to, not you. All Barry's done is won the Sinnoh League Championship; you've won the Grand Festival Ribbon five times, you still feature in practically every major co-ordinating magazine and have interviews being thrown at you every five minutes, and you're a singer-songwriter whose had songs hold number one in three regions for a whole month, and who's sold a triple-platinum record. And you're only twenty-two at that. Now if that's not a standard that needs to be lived up to then I really don't know what is."

As Misty listed all of her achievements, Dawn couldn't help but smile. It was true – she had accomplished a lot. More than most people had at her age, at least. And with people like the sales assistant constantly recognising her on the street she never had a chance to forget it, either. However… "Barry's win isn't just a personal victory; the whole region's celebrating because he's the favourite to become the next Sinnoh Champion now – and literally everyone is betting on him. What's a five-times Grand Festival winner compared to the youngest Champion-to-be in Sinnoh's history? Oooh!" Dawn squealed, getting her first proper look at herself in the dress in the changing room mirrors. It was simple but beautiful, perfectly complimenting her figure and complexion. "This dress is just perfect!" She scampered out of the cubicle so Misty could see. The redhead nodded approvingly.

"You look amazing. Barry will be blown away – and so will the other high-end socialites and paparazzi you're trying so hard to impress." A sly glint entered Misty's eye. "It is them you're dressing up for, right?"

Dawn nodded, absorbed in gazing at her reflection in wonder. "Who else would I be doing this for?"

Misty tilted her head in the same was a predator watching its prey might. "Oh, I don't know, maybe a certain purple-haired trainer who may or may not be there, according to various gossip blogs?"

Dawn froze. "Of course not! I've not even thought about that obnoxious – obnoxious – jerk in two years. And since when do you read gossip blogs?" She spun around to face her friend accusingly.

Misty smiled, secretly pleased with Dawn's reaction. But she said nothing else on the matter. "I don't, but May does. She texted me yesterday. Anyway, are you going to get the dress? It's getting kind of late."

Happy to change the subject, Dawn confirmed that she would get the dress and then nipped back into the cubicle to change into her old clothes. As she did so, the slow song playing through the store's speakers ended and a new song began, this one with a much catchier beat that Dawn found herself nodding her head in time to – until the first words of the song caused her to falter.

Oh, ohhh, oh

I'm not a hero

I'm not invincible,

Can't turn invisible

I'm not super strong,

Can't fly or save the day

(Save the day)

I'm not a hero

Oh, I'm no hero, no hero, no.

The words themselves were fine; it was the singer who made Dawn's heart begin to beat unnaturally fast. He was male, and had a deep, husky voice – the kind a rock singer might have, although the song was clearly in the pop genre. He also sounded all too familiar for Dawn's liking. But it wasn't a song she was familiar with. It was possible she was overreacting; after all, lots of singers sounded similar. She released the breath she hadn't realised she was holding. Yes. That was it. A case of mistaken identity.

But, you're not a damsel in distress

Unless it's stress of your own making

(Stress of your own making);

You don't have the perfect hair

Or the flawless skin

And your heart isn't pure

So don't expect me to be Prince Charming

When you're not Cinderella,

No-oh,

You're not Cinderella.

By the end of the second verse Dawn was changed and in the process of joining Misty at the till to pay for the dress. However, her heart rate hadn't calmed down. If anything, it had escalated. She couldn't shake the suspicion that it was him. The music, the lyrics, and the voice all sounded much too like him for Dawn's liking. She had to be sure.

"I'd just like this dress please," Dawn told the shop assistant, who was gazing at her famous customer in awe. "Also, I was just wondering, what song this is? It seems familiar but I can't quite place it," she explained, ignoring Misty's exasperated eye roll. The redhead wanted to get home and Dawn couldn't blame her – it was nearly five O' clock – but she needed to know what the song was.

"Um, that'll be £59.99, and the song's You're Not Cinderella. It's only just come out but it's already my new favourite, it's so catchy," the shop assistant chattered.

Dawn frowned. "I guess. Who sings it again?"

Whole they were talking, the third verse had begun, and despite focusing on the conversation Dawn heard every word perfectly. There was no longer any doubt in her mind who the singer was – she knew before the shop assistant said it.

I'm not a hero

I never claimed to be perfect –

Never said I was bulletproof.

I've bled before

And I've cried before

And I'll screw up again, and again, and again.

I'm no hero, no, I'm no hero…

(Oh, oh, oh)

I'm no hero.

"Paul Shinji of course – haven't you heard? He's finally made a comeback after his disappearance from the industry two years ago, and what a comeback it is!"

Dawn's heart sank. Of course. Of course it would be him. And of course, he would be singing about her.

You strut down the street

Expecting crowds to part before you.

You flick your hair

Without a care

In the world – and boys fall at your fe-eet.

And you think everything's perfect –

Yeah, everything seems perfect.

But then you trip up

Over your own high-heels:

You want me to save the day

(Want me to save the day?)

But – I let you fall,

Let you fall,

I let you fall because

I'm not Prince Charming,

I'm not a hero,

And you're not Cinderella;

You're not, you're not, you're not,

You're not Cinderella.


"Are you okay?" Misty asked quietly as the left the store in the middle of the next verse.

Dawn nodded. "Yep! I'm fine! I'm glad Paul's making music again – I'm glad he's doing something that makes him happy," she answered in a voice that was too bubbly, and with eyes that were too bright. Misty didn't need to be especially perceptive to see through Dawn's façade. The young co-ordinatior was hurting inside, and it made Misty's blood boil. Who did Paul think he was to just vanish for two years and then come back with a song like that?

Dawn began walking a little faster, and Misty had to hurry to catch up despite having much longer legs than her shorter friend. But when she did catch up, Dawn's face was once more as serene as it had been when they first entered the dress shop.

"So are you excited for the party?" Dawn asked cheerfully, as if nothing had happened.

Misty raised her eyebrows. "I'm not going?" she replied, confused.

Dawn grinned. "It's not just Barry who's coming home though, is it? All the trainers are – and I know one of them is especially looking forward to seeing you."

Misty frowned. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about – Ooh, a Poliwag! Look how cute it is! I'm almost sad mine evolved," she gushed upon spotting the water type pokémon trotting along the side of the river. They'd left the main town now – the small clothes store was right on the edge – and were heading towards the richer end of the housing area. A river wound its way through a few buildings which were built against the backdrop of a forest, and the two women always walked home this way because of how scenic it was. They could have easily taken a car of course, or used Dawn's chauffeur, but both of them liked the walk. It reminded them of their travelling days.

"Don't change the subject. Though I admit, it is cute. But, I think you know very well who I'm talking about, Mist," Dawn said with a meaningful sideways look towards her friend.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Misty scowled.

Dawn laughed gaily. "Okay, okay, you can play dumb if you wish. But I think both of us are really going to enjoy this party – and don't try to get out of going because I already have the perfect outfit for you. Ah-ah, no buts. You're coming, and that's that!"

Misty's scowl worsened, but she wasn't as annoyed as she would have been in any other circumstances. Dawn seemed to have genuinely cheered up, and she wanted to keep it that way. If keeping Dawn happy meant consenting to go to a stupid party, then she supposed it was worth it. And besides, if Paul really was going to be there then she wanted to be there for her friend. Barry would probably be busy talking to other important people for most of the evening: Misty would be Dawn's only real friend there.


Back in the little store, Paul's song played on. The shop assistant nodded her head in time to it, closing her eyes as the music got quieter and the singer's voice became soft.

I used to try to save you.

I used to try to be your prince.

I wanted to be your hero.

But I'm not invincible,

Can't turn invisible,

I'm not super strong,

Can't fly or save the day…

I'm not a hero,

No.

Then it began to get louder again, and the assistant smiled widely. This was her favourite part.

I'm not a hero,

I'm not a hero,

You want a hero, but I'm no hero,

And…

You're not Cinderella!

As the singer's voice trailed away, the least few words could barely be heard – but they were just about audible, as if his voice was in the process of breaking but it was just about strong enough for one last line.

No… You're not Cinderella.


Thanks for reading!

~Jay