I. It followed behind him in tow as darkness, his body descended from the hills. At the end, he met a young man with a recorder and notepad, he knew exactly who this person was. The young man swallowed, motioning towards the gentleman.
"U-Um, Mr. Caverly, are you ready?" The journalist squeaked, fixing his circular frames.
The redhead nodded.
II. earlier— Leather dress shoes gently stepped across the glossed floor. Broad hands stuffed within pockets, gelled hair and ties scrambled into a room of white noise. All these people, every single one of them, were white noise in his mind, they meant nothing. Nothing at all; the biggest—loudest—most beautiful thing in the room was not the flowers—not the chandlers of pure crystal—it was her.
III. She walked silently through the doors. A gentle tap onto the tiles every small second, a piece—a fabric, that swept around her body as if it were darkness. The clothes, which decorated her figure, did not seem to suit her soft expressions. Black flats halted, air felt cool and lights illuminated the large area. No windows, no other doors to exit; only different eyes stared her down at distance. An inferiority between them and her fabricated.
The only noises to be heard were the swallowing of her throat and the rest's far breaths. The only noise shehad heard, was the pounding of her heart. It was silent, so very silent. Everything was mute, until a familiar face moved forward, and small grin awkwardly turned his lips. "Cynthia?"
Any speck of uncertainty or anxiety immediately vanished from her cheeks, she smiled back. "Steven! It's been so long!"
"It certainly has! Who knew you'd be a champion!" The two young friends walked closer to the other, smiling as if they were eight again.
"Alright! Alright! Both of you be quiet! You're so damn loud! And you, Steven, you know the new champion?" A boy of their same age stepped up, a dark cape flowing behind, he featured striking red hair with eyes the same. This fellow known as Lance, appeared to be Johto's champion as well. Everyone knew the redhead among champions was snappish, partially arrogant, mature—and wise around those who were younger than him, for instance; his cousin, Clair.
The silver haired boy nodded steadily towards his friend, and Cynthia could only blink as she had not known Steven's associate. "Alright then," a smirk revealing a few teeth curved around Lance's mouth. "Hey, new champion, let's have a battle."
Everyone in the room had eyes agape in shock while Cynthia smiled. "Sure, but can I ask why first?"
"Because, I'm not going to immediately respect some nobody who became Sinnoh's champion. You inherited the place from the old geezer when he kicked it, you didn't work for it like the rest of us," he snarled, gripping a pokéball behind his back.
"What makes you think I didn't work?" She said, eyebrows furrowed. "But all right then."
…
Lance, the greatest dragon tamer and champion of Johto, had never been more humiliated in his life. He stood there, teeth grit, and angry breathing fueled through him, she was supposed to be a pushover. The redhead returned his fainted Dragonite to its ball, and Cynthia stepped over to his side, extending one of her hands out to him. Lance slapped it. Frustration and embarrassment, he couldn't help himself from feeling it.
All the champions gasped from his rude and childish pride, Steven frowned. "Lance, that's not how you react after a loss."
"More like—" One of Kanto's champions walked over to him. "—How dare you?! That's not a way to treat a lady!"
"Miss Leaf, I suggest you calm yourself," Hoenn's second champion had strode up, placing a hand on the young girl's shoulder.
"It's fine, it's fine!" Cynthia laughed. She waved the champions around them and directed a soft smile towards her defeated 'enemy'. "I guess you're not going to get on the right foot with everyone at first."
IV. Olivine City's clean, stone streets and beautiful lighthouse with sea sight was enough to make it a desirable location to visit. Who knew someone would visit just for the food? Certainly not him, he and his profligate, long cape floated behind as he stepped through the painted red door. Eyes widened while he gave way to sit near. He felt awkward, mortified, and had hoped he wouldn't catch her eye. It was unfortunate for this young man—who would not recognize someone they met wearing a cape?
"Lance?"
He flinched.
The young dragon tamer had not known what to say, especially after his rudeness. His eyes averted contact for quite a while, occasionally nodding to his acquaintance since she seemed to carry on the conversation herself. She spoke of her daily exploits, regular small talk one would use in such a situation. The blonde had not taken to realize that her new friend was peeking glances at her during intervals.
Once the young girl finished her coffee, she stood up from the bar, nodding to Lance with a warm smile. The redhead had never seen a woman look at him with such sweetness, he became sure it was the first time. Never had he a mother, and Clair was definitely not the nurturing type. He shook his head, one girl made him blush didn't mean others couldn't. Could they? Lance could have only hoped.
"If you don't mind me, Lance," the blonde champion began. "I'll be leaving and taking a small walk on the beach near here!"
"A—" he cleared his throat. "Am I allowed to accompany you?"
"Hm? Of course, why not?" she tittered. "Friends are always welcome to join me."
"Friends?"
"Mhm."
V. With his hands still stuffed within his pockets, he silently breathed and stepped up to his good, long-time friend. His eyes were not distracted by waiters and waitresses who served champagne, they were not distracted by elegant ladies with voluminous locks of hair, his brown eyes focused on the most spectacular jewel in the room.
"Is anyone sitting here?" The redhead asked the jewel.
"Of course not, anything for you," she answered, patting the wooden chair at her side. She fixed her long, white skirt, and set a bouquet of irises on the table beside her.
Anything, huh?
VI. "Huh? It's the blonde's birthday?" His voice croaked with a small tint onto his cheekbones.
"Yes, she wanted to go shopping today with us two, but I'm busy," the silver-head yawned, buttoning his amethyst vest. "So just you can go instead."
"Right, you're going to search the Dark Cave," Lance said, remembering how his friend stayed the night for that reason. "She'll be sad to know you're not coming."
"She'll be fine, she understands. I'll see you later!"
…
The dragon tamer entered the Shopping Mall in Unova—his eyes scattered from every corner, searching for his friend. He had rummaged around the large building for a while, proceeding to think that the Sinnoh champion was not to be found here. Lance halted, putting a hand to his face in annoyance, but his face brightened when a positive idea fluttered into his mind. He turned on his heel, his cape danced in tow.
A smirk swept across his lips, he felt clever and prideful for having thought up this idea. She was without a doubt here. The red champion felt a burst of icy wind blow at him—it was the ice cream parlor. "Lance! You're finally here!"
He chuckled to himself and met face-to-face with his friend, everyone knew that Miss Cynthia loved ice cream. "Alright, you had your ice cream, let's go shopping."
"What? But wait, where's Steven?" The blonde inquired, glancing from left to right.
"He couldn't make it, he said you'd understand."
"I guess… Alright! Let's get shopping then!" Cynthia exclaimed, reaching for the redhead's hand. They started off, Lance looking at their grasped hands occasionally. Finally, it had become too uncomfortable for him and he brought the Sinnoh champion to a halt.
"…You understand what you are doing, right?" He muttered, waving their clasped hands.
"No… Did I do something wrong?" The poor girl obviously hadn't realized holding Lance's hand would make him an anxious wreck. He sighed, a gentle smile occurring across his lips.
"No, never mind." He realized he shouldn't complain about holding hands with someone he had become quite fond of.
VII. It was quiet, well, at least around them it was. Everyone else in the large room laughed, becoming drunk on any alcoholic beverage served. It had been becoming darker and darker by the lighting outside, and his brown eyes had noticed this, realizing it was time to properly end whatever it had become. He turned over to his gorgeous friend, "Do you think we could go for a walk?"
"Why not? I think it would be very refreshing," she smiled, standing up from her seat in her long white dress. "But let me ask you-know-who first."
"Right."
"Hey! Steven!" She called across the room. "Lance finally came! He wants to go for a walk, do you think I can?"
"Of course, just don't steal my bride, alright Lance?" The silver-haired man laughed, winking at both of them.
The two started out the large doors.
VIII. Sunyshore City was the one place Cynthia loved throwing parties—the one place she loved the beach besides in Undella Town. To her, for some reason being by the waves at night with the moon as the only source of light became her way of feeling alive every now and then at parties. Quite a few people gathered that it was at Sunyshore's parties the blonde only drank. It never took much for her to become intoxicated and she never remembered anything of it.
Here she was, again, lightly dancing along the rim between sand and water. Cynthia sang of her troubles, how her mother left her and all she had was her grandmother. She felt worthless whenever she was under the influence. Maybe she had always believed herself to be worthless—but kept up a deep façade—something so deep she almost believed she happened to be a wonderful person.
The Johto champion stood there, watching his friend in her most pitiful state. He looked at her with respect instead of sympathy. After a minute passed, Lance slowly stepped up to his friend—who had finally fallen to her bottom on the sand. He sat beside her, quietly gazing at her while she stared at the moon.
"Hey Lance," she softly began. "Who do you think would ever care for someone as broken as me?"
The redhead glanced down at the sand, wondering if she was acting sensible even though she had been drunk. He had thought again—wouldn't this be a grand opportunity to let her know? Know that for the last two years he had the privilege to know her, for everything that she was, even in that moment a drunken, confused, young girl, and he admired it all?
"…I think, maybe I would…"
"Maybe… huh?" She smirked to herself, hugging her knees. "Thank you, Lance."
"I'm not sure what exactly you mean by 'care', but I would love you," he responded placidly.
"So you love me? How unexpected is that!" Cynthia laughed rather loud, apparently, she was still tipsy. Lance's face turned fairly earnest and he moved closer to her.
"I mean it," he whispered, coming nearer by the second.
"What—wait Lance what are you—"
He was so close; she could feel his breath on her mouth.
"Shut up for one minute."
It was wrong, most definitely wrong. He took advantage of her intoxicated state. In his mind, he realized he would feel guilty for the rest of his lifetime, but if they were to never come together—at least he could have this one taste of her lips. She wouldn't remember either, it would be a painful memory for only him to treasure.
"I love you too," she answered in return.
"It's too bad you're drunk, because I'm not sure you mean it."
And he was fine with that.
IX. The couple walked a great deal—quite a distance until the redhead had looked back and decided it was far enough. A pained smile brushed across his lips, he swallowed. "So, who knew, right?"
"Who knew what?" She asked with a small smile.
"That you—Steven—you know…" He played with his hands, as he could not stop them from feeling hot.
"Oh! You know, oh come on Lance, everyone said it was obvious," she chuckled. "But hmm, Cynthia Stone… it has an odd ring to it I think? I suppose I'll have to grow accustomed to it."
"I think Cynthia Caverly sounds better," he breathed, staring down at the dirt road they walked.
"Oh please Lance, that's not a funny joke."
"Who said I was joking?" His brown eyes met her grey eyes instantly, he had no intention of looking away. However, she did. She broke her current expression and moved her eyes away from him.
"What are you talking about…?" The blonde let out a dry laugh, her mouth turned into a crooked smile which told Lance she didn't want to hear it.
"I'll be honest here with you, because I really haven't been for the last two years."
By this time the new bride had turned her back to him, wearing an unpleasant frown.
"Cynthia… I—I have loved—"
"No! I don't want to listen to what you have to say! At least… at least not now, not ever," the young woman spun back around to face him, her eyes had already said enough but she wasn't done. "You… you had your chance. Did you not know? For the longest time I waited for you, but we all should give up waiting on things we don't think will come."
"You're right—but let me say my part. Cynthia Stone, I loved you, I still love you, and I hope you live a happy life."
The blonde had already started crying, she refused to turn back at him and slowly began to walk away.
"Thank you for listening," he whispered.
X. "Ahem." The journalist cleared his throat and sat down in front of the young man. He clicked his recorder on and fixed his glasses once more. "Alright, this is the last part of the interview you have to do, Mr. Caverly. It's time to answer questions from some of your fans."
"Don't read any questions asking why I lost against the new champion, we all know I wouldn't be having this interview if I hadn't lost."
"Well then, this person from Sinnoh using the pseudonym 'Ice Ceam Blondie' asks you, ex-champion Lance, do you believe that someone you love can be happy without you? That you, Lance Caverly, are missing out?"
"I do."
author's note: lmao this is stella's birthday present i forgot i didnt post it on here so now she can enjoy the pain twice as much lmaoooo.
btw bolded numerals are connected ;u;
i dont own pokemon either lulz