Dear May,

How have I stooped so low?

I am a Pokémon coordinator. By definition, I am a man of the stage. My job is to put on a show and to provide a spectacle that leaves the crowd in awe.

I am a performer by occupation, and that involves the adoption of a persona. A façade, you could say. Without even realizing it, I have allowed my life to become centered on this false image; without even realizing it, I have spent most of my life manipulating a character.

That is a lie. This character controls me.

I may seem confident while performing with my Pokémon. The reality is that I actually do have faith in my abilities, as well as those of my partners. I know that some may describe me as arrogant, but I simply accept this as part of who I am, both on stage and off. Even you have admitted to my panache on more than one occasion.

However, a great portion of this charismatic, collected character is just that: a character. I must reiterate that I am a performer by occupation. Thespians who climb upon a stage conceal their true thoughts and feelings and take on a different role. While my transformation on the contest stage is far less dramatic, I will admit that I do share a similarity with these performers. I also must conceal some of my true emotions and beliefs. I must not reveal any discomfort or allow fear to flash in my eyes. I must act as if I anticipate every move and that every action I take is carefully orchestrated, each dazzling display appears exactly as I presumed it would.

Sometimes I overestimate my capabilities; sometimes I underestimate them.

Regardless, I unwittingly have conditioned myself to conceal my true feelings when I put on a show. I suppose I am doing the same with you.

I cannot seem to bring myself to tell you how I really feel.

Is this just like another contest? Do I need to hide my thoughts from you? Is this a competition at all? With whom am I competing? Am I challenging you, just like in any other contest, to see who cracks first? Is that just wishful thinking? Maybe I am arrogant to think that you could feel the same way. Call it a coordinator's intuition, but part of me believes that is true.

So why can I not utter such a simple phrase? All I want to say is, "I love y

Drew's rhythmic strokes suddenly ceased as he heard the door open.

"Drew?" May came up behind her rival with a curious look on her face. "It's almost time for you to go on stage." She tried to peek over his shoulder. "What's that?"

Drew rose from his seat and turned to face the brunette, hiding the paper behind his back. "Feel the need to spy on your rival, eh? Do you feel that nervous about your performance? Watch the screen and you'll see." He smirked and began to walk towards the door that led to the stage, holding a carefully folded letter behind his back. "Nice appeal. Give Bulbasaur a congratulations from me." He flipped his hair and left without another word.

His life was just one performance after another.