Notice: This is purely fan-made, non-profit, and I in no way own Pokemon.
Warning: Later chapters may contain shounen-ai. (Don't like? Don't read!)

This was a story written back in 2009. Please treat it as such.


Multiple claps could be heard off to the side of the black pavement as the white haired teen crossed the finish line. Brendan was no doubt, the most popular boy at New Bark High School. Star of the track team and keeping fairly decent grades were only the beginning of his many desirable characteristics, for he was also considered one of the best looking students of his grade. His deep red eyes and gleaming white hair could catch anyone's attention. And his slender but athletic figure only increased the amount of glances he earned within a day.

Sweat dripping down his brow, Brendan looked up into the blazing sun feeling a strong sense of triumph, something he always felt after winning a match during track and field. Before he could truly take time to relish in his victory however, he was bombarded by a flood of people. Each wanting their own chance to congratulate him and give him a light clap on the back.

"Amazing!" one cheered.

"We beat Cherrygrove nothing flat!" cried another.

Finally catching his breath and thinking fairly strait again, Brendan managed to stumble his way out of the hysterical crowd and over to the side of the coarse where yet another teammate waited before presenting him with a bottle of water.

"Lost your breath out there, huh Snow White?" came the familiar voice of Jimmy as he handed Brendan the bottle.

Smirking, Brendan was used to his friend's unusual nicknames but never felt offended as Jimmy never meant any harm by his words. After all, the boy had been his best friends for years, and the two had been through almost everything together. Jimmy was an average boy at the age of fifteen, if not a little eccentric at times, with deep gold eyes and short dark blue hair that usually remained covered by one of his favorite hats whenever he was outside of school grounds.

"So, you got any plans for after school?" Jimmy asked casually, leaning back against the chain-link fence.

"Not really," Brendan replied, taking a rather long and greedy drink from his water. "Just the homework Professor Claire assigned for today."

"Oh that," Jimmy groaned closing his eyes in disgust. "Doesn't that woman have anything better to do than send us all to an early balding with her ridiculous assignments?"

Brendan couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. "Apparently not," he replied.

Jimmy pushed himself off the fence and slouched, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Well, I guess I know what lies in my future tonight," he sighed.
"Yeah, same here," Brendan agreed. "Chemistry has never really been my thing."

~~~~

Tired, sweaty, and a little irritable from the long walk home, Brendan's half dazed stooper was immediately brought to attention when he noticed cardboard box after cardboard box spread about the living room floor. "Wha—what's going on in here?" he stammered.

Almost as if on cue, his mother appeared from behind a large stack of the piled brown packages, her brown hair disrupted and falling haphazardly in front of her face while her outfit, one she only wore for cleaning around the house, sagged like a servants rag and was beginning to fall off one shoulder.

"Oh you're back." She breathed, an annoyed hint in her voice. "Hurry and just drop your bag anywhere. We have to get everything packed."

"Packed?" Brendan asked, setting his backpack down on an available space on the couch. "Packed for what?"

"For the movers," his mother whined as if she had explained this dozens of times before. "They'll be here in two more days to take us and everything here to our new home."

"Wait, but why?" he stuttered, feeling a pang of fear begin to run down his spine"

"Oh, that pathetic manager Price thought that my work wasn't good enough for him," she began. "So out of the blue he just comes up to me in the middle of my break, my well deserve break I might add, and lectures me forever on how my work is so 'unsuitable' by the company's standards. Well, whatever. If he doesn't appreciate my help than why should I bother giving it to him?"

Brendan knew that everything other than his mother getting fired was a lie. For as long as he could remember she had always done this same routine numerous times throughout the years, and he was surprised he wasn't completely used to it by now. His mother really wasn't suited for any type of job, and because of it, never managed to keep one for very long. This left Brendan with the agonizing task of trying to budget their remaining funds, and having to call his divorced father to beg and plead for just enough money to get by into the next week. Needless to say, because of this Brendan was on very bad terms with both of his parents.

"Mom," Brendan breathed out as calmly as he could, his emotions ready to burst out from inside of him. "That's the third job you've lost this year! What are we going to do about money!?

"That's why we're moving," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "An old college friend of mine offered me a decent paying job over in the Hoenn region."

Brendan felt like his whole world had just come down on top of him. The Hoenn region. His father lived in the Hoenn region. Would he have to see his father? No. He didn't want to think about it. But wait. What about—

"What about my friends!?" he suddenly yelled, earning an unsuspecting jump from his mother as she cringed from his sudden outburst. "We're moving to a whole other country here, not just down the street! And what do you expect me to tell the team! I can't just abandon them in the middle of the season!"

"You'll just have to make new ones!" his mother yelled back. A dangerous anger glowing in her eyes.

"But—"

"Don't mess with me Brendan!" she screamed, throwing a glass at him and missing only by a fraction of an inch. "Just get out of my sight and go pack your things or I'll have the movers leave them all behind!"

Tears beginning to form in his eyes, Brendan turned as fast as his legs could carry him, grabbing his backpack and bolting up the stairs to his room and locking the door behind him. Slumping to the floor he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head upon them, tears now dripping onto his clothes in heavy drops. What was he going to tell his friends tomorrow? Standing up, he got to work with packaging his things.