Blair had no idea what he was doing here. He had received the invitation to Caitlin's ball from Darach, and on any other day he would have said no, but he had already told Cheren and Bianca beforehand. They knew the invitations allowed both Blair and Whitlea to take guests, so they had been planning for this night for a while now. Blair had since thought that Cheren and Bianca inviting themselves had been rather rude, but knew that was a side effect of beating the Champion: everyone thinks they're your friend. So, on a night when dressing up in a tuxedo and attending an ass-kissing party was last on his list of things to do, he nonetheless found himself doing exactly that.
But just because he was here didn't mean he had to like it.
"Come on, Blair. Cheer up!" Bianca, his date for the night, had been riding him for over an hour, trying to get him away from the bar and on the dance floor.
Blair put his chin on the bar and continued sipping his drink. "Why didn't I keep my mouth shut?" he said aloud.
Bianca had trouble hearing him over the loud music. "What?"
Blair brought his head back up and spoke a littler louder. "I said bringing me here was fucked up."
Bianca put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Aww, come on, Mister Basculin. Dance with me! I guarantee you'll feel better."
Blair, tired of having to argue with her, gulped the last of his drink and wandered over to the dance floor, Bianca following close behind. Now that the people in attendance had gotten a little tipsy, the music had changed from "regular" ball music to something a little easier to dance to. Blair figured this party couldn't be all bad if they were playing dubstep now. So, dance he did, but not without feeling like an epileptic rag doll.
"You dance like an epileptic rag doll," said a voice from behind him. Blair whipped around to see Grimsley, of all people, dressed in a pinstripe suit and dancing with Shauntal. Grimsley looked Blair up and down and furrowed his brow. "What are you wearing a tuxedo for?" he asked.
Blair shrugged. "Just felt like it, I guess." He turned to leave, heading back to the bar.
"Blair!" Bianca yelled, running after him. "Where are you going?"
"I need a drink!" He yelled back, clearly irritated.
"Well, fine! I'm gonna keep dancing then!" She said, more to everyone around her than to Blair.
Having made it back to the bar, Blair began to survey the guests. Obviously, Grimsley and Shauntal were there, having moved on from the dance floor to a secluded corner of the ballroom, and from dancing to making out. Blair chuckled at this, shaking his head. He looked back at who was dancing. There was a woman in a formal kimono with short black hair dancing with Burgh, as well as a tall man in spiky red hair strutting around like he owned the place. And good God, he was wearing a cape.
'Tools, all of them,' Blair thought. He turned around and looked at the bartender. He was an old, bald man of medium height, wearing a red shirt with a white tie and a white vest. The only distinctive feature about him was a prominently worn and properly groomed white mustache, similar to the facial hair of Cheren's Samurott. Blair thought it odd that this man was also wearing sunglasses, despite the room being very dark, save for a few glow sticks and the occasional strobe light.
"Hey, barkeep," Blair said. "Get me a whiskey, will you?"
"Sure thing, kid," he said while filling a glass with the amber liquid and passing it to Blair. "Hey, you look a little down. What's your name, kid?"
Blair sipped his glass. "Blair. You?"
"Ah," the bartender said. "I've heard of you. You're the newest Champion from here, aren't you?"
Blair nodded. "Yeah, that's me," he said, not being able to help a smile form on his face.
The bartender extended his hand. "Name's Blaine. Good to meet you." They shook hands. "So, Blair, how come you're not out there getting all the ladies, huh? Don't you have a date for tonight?"
Blair took another sip. "Yeah, but she's out there dancing with God-knows-who."
"What's she like?" Blaine asked.
"Well, her name's Bianca," Blair said with a smile. He was looking down at his glass, which he was now spinning on the table. "Real bubbly girl, you know? Nothing really ever gets her down. Always admired that about her."
A small smile formed on Blaine's face. "Sounds like a good catch," he said.
Blair snapped out of his trance and looked up. "Oh, no, we're not dating or anything. We're just friends."
Blaine nodded his head, understanding the situation at once. "Ah, I see. Well, good luck with that." Sliding his glasses down, he gave Blair a wink and walked away, off to serve the man in the gaudy cape.
Blair, satisfied in having met a cool bartender, put his chin back on the bar and continued enjoying his drink. Bianca was off dancing, so Blair knew he wasn't needed and wouldn't be for the rest of the night.
That was, until Cheren and Whitlea showed up.
Whitlea was wearing a long white dress that almost reached the floor. Her hair was done up in her pseudo ponytail style she had become famous in the Battle Subway for wearing. Blair took one look at her and immediately became jealous of her date. Cheren was wearing a ridiculous yellow zoot suit with a monstrosity of a hat on his head. Due to Cheren's height, or lack thereof, it made him look like a junior trainer, despite it clearly being tailored. But Blair was apparently the only one who thought that. Ever since walking in, Cheren and Whitlea commanded attention from over half the members of the group on the dance floor. The guests walked over to meet and greet the famous Subway Battler who currently held the national record of consecutive wins. Cheren was no slouch either. Ever since the Team Plasma fiasco, he had worked his ass off to achieve notoriety in the battling world as well, even going so far as to beat all members of the Elite Four. He could never quite beat Blair though, a fact Blair was proud of. Despite all of Blair's achievements, including defeating N, Ghetsis, the Elite Four, and even the nomadic Alder, the victory that inflated Blair's ego the most was the fact that Cheren was no match for him. It was this memory that caused Blair to take an indifferent approach to the new party arrivals, and turn back to the bar to enjoy another drink.
"Blaine, can I get a martini?" he said. "Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Lillet, shake it over ice and add a slice of lemon peel."
Blaine walked over with a martini glass and shaker. "Quite a drink order, kid," he said. He looked over at the crowd gathering around Whitlea and Cheren. "Friends of yours?" he asked Blair.
"You could say that," Blair said, again with an indifferent tone.
"Your date's over there too," Blaine said. "Bianca, right?" Blair nodded. He looked over, and saw Whitlea and Bianca running off to the bathroom together to "powder their noses". That, of course, involved the two of them talking, Whitlea about her darling Cheren, and Bianca about her stellar career.
"Oh, shit," Blair said, quickly turning his head away from the crowd. Cheren had spotted him, causing Blair to hold up five fingers to Blaine, then folding down one finger each second until he was holding up a fist, at which point Cheren immediately said, "Hey, Blair!" a little too excitedly.
"Hey, buddy," Blair said, none too excited that it was seemingly impossible for him to enjoy just one drink in peace.
"What are you over here for?" Cheren asked. "There's a whole party going on, and you're the only guy sitting at the bar. You look depressed."
Blair looked down at the martini that recently materialized in front of him. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm over here because your suit makes my eyes hurt," he said in a mean-spirited tone.
Cheren just laughed the insult away. "Haha! Low blow, buddy. Come on, let's get you laid tonight. What do you say?"
Blair shook his head. "Nah, you go ahead."
Cheren's smile faded. "Huh. Well, suit yourself." As Cheren walked away, Blair stole a look at his countenance. He looked dejected, but still glad to be at a party with numerous drunken females.
Blaine walked back over. "What's he up to?" he asked in a casual tone.
"I dunno, probably to go find some sleazy, drunken ho bag to cheat on Whitlea with while she's not looking," Blair said, clearly letting the alcohol make him speak his own mind. He looked up at Blaine. "How does someone that hot end up with some douche like Cheren? And to think I could've been with her, and she didn't want to be. I mean, I'm the Champion of Unova! What's not to like about me?"
Blaine was about to answer when Whitlea came out of nowhere, obviously Cheren-less. "Hey, Blair," she said. "Have you been here the whole time?"
Blair's gaze landed on Whitlea's face. It looked amazing, even amidst all those strobe lights and glow sticks, and in some ways especially so. Blair had been infatuated with that face ever since they met, and tonight was no different. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Blair felt that if Cheren was going to hurt Whitlea by cheating, Whitlea had every reason to return the favor. And who was Blair not to facilitate that?
Suddenly, Blair snapped out of it, realizing Whitlea had been talking for quite a while and he hadn't been paying the slightest amount of attention. She had apparently asked him a question and was now staring at him, waiting for an answer. Blair merely blurted out the first word he could think of.
"No," he said in a stupor, rolling the dice to see if that was the correct answer.
"Oh, thank goodness," Whitlea said, breathing a sigh of relief. "You know, Bianca and I were talking about this, and I didn't want to say anything, but I'm so glad we finally cleared this up. I mean, think how awkward it's been between the three of us!"
Blair mindlessly nodded. "Yeah, absolutely. I totally agree."
Whitlea got up from her stool. "Thanks, Blair." She kissed him on the cheek and left.
Blair turned to Blaine. "Do you have any idea what she just asked me?" he said.
Blaine laughed. "She asked if you had any feelings for her." he watched as Blair's face changed from confusion to outright regret. "I think you've had enough, kid." He took the empty martini glass from Blair and gave him a glass of water. "Not that it's my place to say anything, but I think you gave the correct answer," he said, adding, "despite not knowing the question to begin with. Haha!"
Blair looked up in confusion. "What makes you say that?"
Blaine looked at him with a wry smile. "You're gonna have to find that out for yourself. Sorry, kid."
Blair got up. "I gotta hit the head. These drinks are free, right?" Blaine nodded. "I'll be back then." He walked towards the men's room.
'Man, what does that guy know?' Blair thought as he walked. 'Just some bartender. He hasn't seen the world like I have. Probably hasn't even battled anyone. He doesn't know me at all. Thinks he does just cause he's handed me a couple of drinks...' His rambling thoughts trailed off as he did his business and walked back to the bar. On his way back, he looked at the crowd dancing on the floor. It had grown, filled with more supposedly famous people. Blair only knew a few, like Caitlin, the host of this fiasco. Even Alder had arrived, he noticed. He saw many unknown people, like a blond guy wearing a purple suit and a dark scarf, as well as a dude wearing all white with light blue hair covered by a white fedora.
'Man, that guy sticks out like a sore thumb,' Blair thought, referring to this last member. He headed back to the bar, where another man was seated. He was wearing a black suit with a black tie, and he had steel rings around his upper arms. His gray hair was messy, but it suited his style perfectly. As the man looked up, Blair gave him a nod and sat a few seats away from the newcomer, not paying him much attention. He was probably just some rich guy from another country or something.
"Hi, I'm Steven," the man said, holding out his hand.
Blair did the same. "Blair. Good to meet you."
"I hear you're the Champion of these parts. That true?" Steven asked.
Blair, again, couldn't help but smile proudly at his title. "You got that right," he said.
"Please, join us. Blaine and I were just reminiscing about our battles over the years," Steven said wistfully, stealing a look at Blaine, who had a drink by him, too.
Blair looked surprised. "Oh, you're a Trainer?" he asked Blaine, noticing that he was drinking a scotch.
Blaine looked down, attempting to hide a chuckle. "You could say that," he said, smiling out of the corner of his mouth.
Steven piped up. "Oh, don't be modest, Blaine." He turned to Blair. "I'll bet you none of the Gym Leaders in Unova could stand up to this guy in his prime."
"Problem is," Blaine said, "my prime was a long time ago. Haha!"
Steven picked up his glass. "I'll drink to that!" he said, clinking glasses with Blaine and gulping his drink.
Blair was confused. "So, wait, are you a Gym Leader or something?"
Blaine nodded his head. "You betcha, kid. Cinnabar Island. Gym Leader number seven."
Blair was taken aback. "Then what are you doing bartending? Shouldn't you be out there glad-handing everybody?"
"Look who's talking," Blaine pointed out. "We're both here, aren't we? 'Cept I'm here for different reasons than you."
"What makes you say that?" Blair asked suspiciously.
"You see," Blaine began, "you're here because you don't want to be around people who are beneath you. What you don't realize is that your ego keeps people away from you just as much as it keeps you away from them. In fact, what just happened with that lady friend of yours? The Battle Subway girl. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't actually have any feelings for her. She's just some piece of ass you'd like to grab." Blair merely sat there silent, while Steven pretended not to listen. "Me? I just like company. Haha!" Blaine swallowed his drink in one gulp, and then poured himself another. Blair looked down at his glass, which was still filled to the brim with water.
"Well, Blaine," Steven said, "I've got to head out. Got an early flight back to Mossdeep."
"Alright, Steven, take care," Blaine said, shaking hands with Steven as he stood up.
"And hey," Steven said to Blair, "don't beat yourself up about the ego thing. It happens to the best of us." Steven patted Blair on the shoulder and left a now depressed Blair sitting at the bar alone with Blaine.
"Well, I gotta take a tinkle," said Blaine. "Watch the bar for me, will ya?"
"Sure," Blair said quietly, obviously deep in thought. He was thinking about everything there was to think about. He thought about the beginnings of his journey, how he had tried so hard to prove himself against the likes of his three best friends. He thought of all those times that Cheren challenged him, and especially about that time Blair nearly lost. He thought about his first gym battle, and how unfair he thought it was that they went against his type coverage. He was a very young and immature trainer way back when. But now, the only thing different was his age. Blair may have beaten Alder, but he lacked the maturity to be a true Champion, and he knew it. He finally realized that he could never have gotten to where he was now without his friends' help. Never would he have beaten the Elite 4, N or Ghetsis without being pushed by Cheren and Whitlea to train harder, to be better. Yes, he had a lot of people to thank for helping him get here. He had to thank every friend, every enemy, every Gym Leader, every Gym Trainer, every Nurse, every Pokémart attendant, every Team Plasma member, every Trainer he ever saw, for their help. But above all, the one person he had to thank most was—
"Bianca!" He practically shouted, his head bolting off of the bar.
"Yes?" a sweet, innocent voice said behind him. Blair turned around and saw the very girl he wanted to see. Blair knew that out of all the people that gave him assistance, nobody gave as much of themselves as Bianca. She had always been there for him, giving as much as she could, without a single thought as to how Blair would pay her back, or even if he would. And after he had made it to the top, she had still been there, ready to give more if needed.
"Bianca…" Blair said softly, looking straight into her eyes.
She had been the one to show Blair that for all his failings, despite his limitations and fallibilities, he was indeed capable of greatness. Tonight, Blair had marveled at how vulnerable the repository of all his potential once was, how perilous his journey's infancy, how humble his beginnings, how many rivers he had to cross before he found his way.
And it had all been thanks to her.
"I love you."