Max's moonlit shadow bobbed through the deserted, dusty park in Petalburg City.
The rusty swings creaked as he walked by, and a mangy Zigzagoon darted underneath the iron childrens' slide. The old plated merry-go-round swung silently, back and forth as the wind coiled around it. Half of the handholds were missing. He remembered playing on it in his first year of preschool, a three-year-old constantly attended by his doting mother.
The eleven-year-old checked his watch.
11:50.
Maybe I can make it to my house by midnight, he thought to himself.
He ruffled his messy black hair that he had dyed in Fortree City. It was now longer and shaggier than Ash's had ever been, and some of it was lightly brushing the hood of his thin synthetic jacket. His black shirt emblazoned with the white outline of a Spiritomb stretched against his chest. His dark jeans were strung with a long chain, which eerily thumped against itself as he walked. His pumped running shoes tread lightly on the dusty gravel, and he judged that the Zigzagoon was one of the only creatures that heard him. Nobody could see him; in the dark, the only thing that might be seen was the Spiritomb on his shirt.
A miserable late September breeze whistled through his ears. He involuntarily fingered the obsidian fang in his left ear, wondering if May was home from Johto yet. He scanned the environment surrounding him, waiting for any sudden movement. There was none, and he continued walking down the dark street until he soon found himself at his old house, underneath his bedroom window. Knowing that a pleasant knock on the front door after midnight wouldn't be taken lightly, no matter how long he had been gone, he vaulted over a stump and into a roost in the tree in front of his window. He deftly stepped upward between the branches, balanced precariously on a limb, pushed open the window, and quietly dove inside.
From a glance, it seemed as though his room was left untouched since he started his journey over a year ago. He swiped a thin layer of dust from his dresser, and stared blankly into the cheap mirror that was now too small to reflect his whole figure.
He had matured quite a bit since his sister, May, and Ash and Brock left him a million months ago. His skin had hardened a bit, and you could see the outlines of the muscles in his long arms. He was much taller; he didn't really compare himself to others his age, so he didn't know if he was too short or tall, but he was 5'3" the last time he measured himself.
He thought to himself about what his parents would say about his sudden aura of maturity, and the thoughts almost immediately became shrouded with negativity. He didn't think they would approve of the new look, but, of course, since when did they approve of Max? It was always May this, May that, oh why can't you be like May, Max, you could learn something from your big sister, Max. He could visualize the conversation now. Hello Max, how have you been? Okay, I suppose. What on earth have you done to your hair? I dyed it, isn't it obvious? Did you ever get a haircut? Yes, several times, does it matter? Yes, of course it matters, and where did you get that hideous tooth? It's an obsidian fang. I don't care, get rid of it this instant, oh why can't you learn from your sister. It's good to see you too, Mother. Oh, stop with that talking back nonsense. And all the while, they'd be smoothly striding across the living room.
"Forget them," Max said to himself after several minutes of thought. "Forget them and forget May. I'm my own person." However, the thoughts of his sister wouldn't leave him, so he brushed off the rest of the dust from his dresser and brought his keyboard from his backpack to the now-clean surface. He pressed the black logo in the corner, and several projected site images appeared in the space above the keyboard, wavering ever so slightly.
Hello, Max, said the forefront image, which had sculpted itself into a woman's face. How can I help you?
"Quiet, Speak," he said. "Let the neighbors keep sleeping."
My apologies.
"Show me the latest local developments, if any, concerning May Margaret Maple."
Of course, Max.
All of a sudden, huge, glamorous pictures of his fourteen-year-old sister blared across the woman's face; articles of every kind were sprayed all over the air like science-fiction graffiti. The headlines read themselves. "MAY MAPLE WINS JOHTO GRAND FESTIVAL!" "MAY AND DREW – ARE THEY?" "EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH THE ONE AND ONLY MAY MAPLE!"
"Speak, what in God's name..." He blinked in disbelief. His sister… famous? That was impossible, she was only a fourteen-year-old coordinator; when she left for Johto, she was about as popular as Drew or maybe Solidad. He could probably believe that she won, but there was no way in hell that she was this well known. "Please read May Maple Wins Johto Grand Festival by CoorCoor magazine."
As you wish.
Coordinated Coordination proudly presents the first exclusive one-on-one with the overnight star May Maple! In this revealing interview, May discusses family, friends, travels, turn-ons, and all things Pokémon with our legendary columnist Roxanne the Gym Leader!
Roxanne: So, May, how would you explain your feelings about winning the envied Johto Grand Festival trophy?
May Maple: Well, I would first have to thank all my supporters, such as Ash Ketchum, Brock the Kanto Gym Leader, Dawn Berlitz, and Drew Hayden and Solidad Whitecrest. Drew and Solidad, bless them, they cheered for me till the end, even though they lost.
RA: It's touching to see that thankfulness is in the forefront of your feelings about the win. What else is on your mind concerning the victory?
MM: It took a serious amount of work, but it's just another accomplished goal on my way to being the best. Just a stepping stone. A big stone, but a stone just the same.
RA: Well, now that you've conquered Johto, what do you plan to do next?
MM: Off to Sinnoh! I'm bringing a few friends with me this time around for more of a group conquest. I traveled alone in Johto, and I missed the company.
RA: Who might these friends be?
MM: Drew, Solidad, Ash and Brock. That's our pending group.
RA: Ash and Brock already traveled through Sinnoh, along with Dawn Berlitz. Why are they going again with you?
MM: They've agreed because they said that we're best friends, and that they'll do whatever needs doing for me, and I believe them.
RA: Your father is the Petalburg City Gym leader in Hoenn. What are his feelings about your recent accomplishment?
MM: He says that he's very proud, and that he believes I can do anything.
RA: Alright, I don't have much of a transition into this dark subject, so we'll just go for it. Some time ago, when you were originally travelling in Hoenn, your traveling partners were Ash, Brock, and your younger brother Max.
MM: Oh, I see where you're going with this. You're going to ask me why my brother's been reported missing by several people.
RA: You got it.
MM: (laughs) I'm sure he's just playing hide-and-go-seek. He'll probably turn up in a few days. He's just messing with us, I bet. He's only eleven; he doesn't know anything.
"Speak, stop."
Max put the keyboard back in his pack and leaned backward, resting and crossing his legs against the wall. So May had forgotten about him. He wouldn't be surprised if his parents didn't care, either. That is, if he ever saw his parents again. With any luck, they were on the other side of the house, snoring to their heart's content.
He felt tears knocking on the back of his eyeballs. "May, you forgot about me," he said to himself, rocking back and forth. "I know I'm not your favorite, but you actually forgot about me." His mind began to race. What about his parents? What about his friends? Had they forgotten him? One thing was for certain, he couldn't stay here. Where should he go? It didn't matter, as long as it wasn't here.
Max dove out the window. He picked himself up, brushed himself off, picked up his pack and started toward the street just as he heard the sirens in the distance.
Sirens?
Max scaled the tree in front of his room once more, only this time, he climbed onto the roof and stood on the apex to get a good view.
A rusted Mustang was swerving all over the street nine blocks away and approaching fast. Not much farther behind it was a K-9, its sirens blaring. As the rusted car got closer, Max could see that beer bottles were being thrown out the side window. One hit the windshield of the cop car, and Max heard the CRACK of a warning gunshot as the patrolman swerved from anxiety.
That was when he noticed Norman.
On the white stripes of the crosswalk was the lonesome pedestrian. With horror, Max came to realize that his father was walking home from the gym.
Max jumped off the roof, nearly breaking his knees from his legs, and sprinted toward the street. He saw Norman dashing toward the sidewalk, but it was no use.
The event was sequenced; freeze frames flashed before Max and Norman's eyes. Vigoroth emerged from his PokéBall unannounced. He dove at the Mustang and punched through the windshield. He roared. The driver pulled out a TEC and shot twice into Vigoroth's mouth. Norman cried in anguish. Vigoroth fell backwards and knocked Norman over. Norman came in contact with the right headlight. Shattered glass rained on the pavement. Norman's body flew backwards into the intersection in front of his house. Max stood, expressionless and unmoving, until he Mustang drove straight into a light pole, which toppled across the two lanes and smashed Max into the curb. Norman stumbled, fell, and hit the sidewalk next to Max with a sickening crack. The cop swerved and thudded over the light pole, and the police car finally came to a stop. Five shots were fired, and the unknown driver fell to the ground a few feet from Vigoroth's seizing body.
Caroline rushed out of the house, too late. "NORMAN! OH, NO! NORMAN!" She was sobbing hopelessly.
Max rolled over to face her, his bloody face stuck to the concrete.
"GODDAMN IT, MAX! YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED IT! YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HIM!" she screamed.
Stars erupted in the right side of Max's head, and he rolled back over.
He woke, alone and shaking, in a hospital bed, drenched in sweat. The keyboard was lying next to him.
Max began to thrash in earnest. "Nobody loves me! NOBODY LOVES ME!"
He turned to the keyboard, gasping. "Speak!" he cried. "Speak, speak to me!"
She silently appeared above the keys, shaking out her hair. Yes, Max?
"Run a global search for Max Maple."
She was silent for a moment. There is only one result, Max. It is an obscure fan fiction site.
"Quickly! What does it say?"
I would rather not, Max.
"Please! I'm begging! TELL ME!"
She gave a very real breath. No result found matching your keyword(s)/phrase. Please expand your search. Tip: If you want to search a phrase and not just individual words, use double quotes. Example: "Search this phrase".
Max gave her a sad look. He turned to the ceiling. "Nobody cares. Nobody." He rolled to the other side, and was quiet.
A tear ran from her eye, and it dripped onto the surface of the keyboard, which crackled and shorted out.
I do, Speak said, as her image began to fade.