NOTE: I've decided to change the start of story, I thought it wasn't particularly well planned or thought out and this is my attempt at giving my story some vigor. Hope you enjoy.
Jason could already hear the screams and shouts, even the effects of battle could be faintly seen in the distance. A bead of sweat ran down his brow and he could feel his heart beat against his chest. Pumping his legs harder, Jason pushed his bike faster through the night. He was late, anything could have happened at this stage.
Rounding the final corner he had finally made it, granted he was late, but the party was only beginning. The whole area was filled by the area's teenage population celebrating the start of summer. This party would be the last good-bye with people going their separate ways, either for the summer or indefinitely.
The place had once been a playground, until a new one closer to the housing estates and community centre had been erected. Now it was a shadow of its former self, being comprised of rusted mankey-bars, a broken slide and a dilapidated basketball court. It did however give the area's youth a place to hang-out and more importantly battle, away from the prying eyes of parents.
Jason straddled his bike till it came to a slow stop next to a tree and propped it against the trunk. There was plenty of activity around as Jason walked through the crowds, about 70 people had turned up ranging between the ages of 14 and 19. The older groups, namely Jason's friends were drinking, hanging around a bonfire or trying to get with each other, the younger kids tried following their older peers lead by gossiping in groups or being more adventurous and drinking, some had their pokemon out, probably prepping them for battle, the main attraction.
Following traditional poke-battling terms challenges could be issued to anyone and took place in the encaged basketball court. Surrounding the court, the cage was visibly rusted and battle weary being heavily dented , even been burnt through in places. Weeds also had a tendency to poke through the cracked tar-mac. The damage was the legacy of the youth of the neighbourhood. From what he could make out a spinark currently had the upper hand against a pichu.
Pushing past the groups of people loudly chatting Jason finally found a few of his friends by the bonfire, and judging by the crushed beer cans on the floor they been here a while. He'd been friends with Mike and Pete since they were 12, but in a few days they were heading off to America to travel and leaving him to rot in a suburban Irish hell. He was insanely jealous, but he'd never let them know it.
"JASON! Buddy, you're here!" Mike slurred "You almost missed out, all the good looking girls are almost gone!"
"Hey Mike" Jason replied, slapping his friend on the back. "I know, work dragged on but don't you worry one bit, Jason Ryder always gets his girl".
"That's the first I'm hearing of it, the only time you'd ever get a girl is with a hefty amount of chloroform." Pete remarked.
"Come on Pete, you're only saying that cause your still upset about me and Laura" Jason retorted.
"Dude, stop calling my mom Laura, it creeps me out".
"Hey, she likes it when I call her by her first name".
"Anyway" Mike interjected. "Care to join us with a few drinks to celebrate, this will probably be last you'll see of us for a year or so. Or you could still join us, book some flights tomorrow and meet us out there in a week or two".
Jason sighed. "I wish I could guys, genuinely, but I'm going to have to work all summer just to scrape by. As much as I would love to battle my way around the states it'd bankrupt me, if I failed I could easily end up paying off debt for who knows how long".
"It won't be the same without you bud" Pete commiserated. "But this'll be the last time we'll be together for Arceus knows how long, we should live it up tonight".
As the night progressed Jason was challenged to his first battle. The kid must have been two years younger than Jason, but his cocky swagger and grin let Jason know he either had some skill or was feigning confidence. Usually battles took place between people of similar ages, Beating a kid 5 years younger than yourself and with less experience wasn't looked upon well. Of course it still happened, money was money and of course Jason couldn't back away from a challenger younger than himself, he had a reputation to maintain.
That battle got the ball rolling. After wiping the grin off the kid's face with his nidoran the challenges started rolling in. The light blue quadruped won another bout against a sentret and Jason's chimchar dealt with a trubbish and volbeat before Jason started getting reckless. Which resulted in chimchar losing to a snubull.
"Unlucky" Mike said, as Jason stepped out of the cage, "another beer?"
"No, no I'm officially done for the night" Jason said throwing his hands in the air in defeat. "Nidoran wouldn't last long in another battle. I think I'll head away there anyway. I need to get chimchar healed, I don't like leaving him cooped up and unconcious".
"Fair enough, I'll find Pete and we'll go".
The trio made their way back to the cluster of houses which made up their neighbourhood, row upon row of semi-detached houses each identical to the other.
"I won't miss this place" Pete said, swaying slightly. "I enjoyed myself here, growing up and all, but it's too easy to get trapped here. Not make something of yourself".
Mike elbowed Pete in the side and jerked his head toward Jason. Jason laughed.
"Subtle guys. But don't worry I'll get out of here one day, and when I do ye better be somewhat decent at battling by then, because I'll be gunning for you guys".
That was the last thing any of them said before Mike left, then Pete leaving Jason at his door fumbling with his keys. The process of finding his house key took a little longer than he realised, and when he finally found the little bugger his attention had been drawn to the white envelope pinned to his door.
The letter had been hand written and sealed, within it gave a simple invitation. Jason flipped the page over a couple of times looking for the sender, even inspected the envelope for a name. The only thing he could identify the original owner of the letter was with the letter M.