Chapter 2
The Hook
"You know, I never realised just how damn far away Kalos was," Alex said conversationally as he stepped out onto the tarmac at Lumiose Airport, shading his eyes against the bright morning sun. "Part of me was expecting, like, an eight-hour flight, but that had to be at least double that."
"Fifteen and a half, if you don't count the layover," Veronique corrected him. "But yes, it's a long way home, and tickets are pricey too. There's a reason I only come back every few years."
Alex frowned, feeling a little guilty. "You know, I could've bought your ticket too. It's not as big as the winner's pot, but I got a decent payout from coming in second at the Grand Festival."
Laughing, Veronique gave him a playful shove towards the terminal. "But then I'd owe you! Yuck."
Alex opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. She tended to be hard-headed about things like this. "Fine," he said with mock haughtiness. "I guess I won't offer to help you out again, then."
"Well, if you're going to be like that!" she grumbled, but he spotted a flash of relief in her eyes as he decided not to push the topic. "Come on, let's get our bags. Our cab should be here soon, I booked it online before we came."
Shaking his head in wonder, Alex followed Veronique inside the airport building. "You've grown up, V," he said quietly as he watched her back. The Veronique he remembered from middle school was gone, in many ways. She still favoured dark colours and wore a perpetual scowl, but working as his manager for four years had brought out a surprising amount of maturity and attention to detail that had never been evident before.
On the other hand, I'm no different than I was back then. Still wimpy, short and effeminate, still lying awake arguing with myself every night. Shaking himself out of the temporary fugue, Alex made himself look forwards instead. He was supposed to be on holiday. This was a golden opportunity to get back in the right headspace for competing, and Arceus knew he needed it.
There was indeed a taxi waiting for them outside the baggage claim, so after loading their bags into the boot they piled into the back and directed the driver to the Lumiose Station. Alex pressed his nose to the window curiously as they drove, trying to take in as much of the city as he could. There was nothing like this in Hoenn - even Mauville, the region's largest metropolis, paled in comparison to the warren of cobbled streets and alleyways that made up this nexus of the Kalos region. It was a strange mish-mash of the modern and the classic; cautiously elegant office buildings rubbed elbows with precarious edifices of stone or even wood. The wider avenues were lined with trees and gardens, splashes of colour that lent a festive touch of life to the city.
"We can explore all you want later," Veronique said with amusement. "We'll come back for a proper visit on the weekend, perhaps."
"I look forward to it," Alex grinned. "This place looks amazing just from what I've seen so - hey, is that Prism Tower?" He cut himself off suddenly, twisting his neck to catch a glimpse of the instantly recognisable spire that had slipped out from behind the cityscape.
"You're like a little kid sometimes," Veronique said, stifling a giggle. "We'll go visit the tower some other time. It's a Pokémon Gym and everything, so you can go inside and take a tour."
Alex nodded. "Sounds good. Man, I haven't been to a Gym in ages. Since I started doing Contests professionally, I haven't had the time."
"I can't imagine you challenging Gyms! Man, I wish I'd been there when you went through that phase." Veronique seemed to be in good humour today, despite the situation with her family. Alex had known the Vincents long enough to know they got along well enough, but Veronique would not enjoy being tied down. She had brightened up considerably about returning home after he'd agreed to come with her, but their fifteen and a half hour flight had been marked by much grumbling and harrumphing - when she thought he wasn't listening, that is.
"There was really nothing to see!" he said hurriedly. "I only ever got one badge, you know."
"Mossdeep, right?"
"Yeah, somehow. It was a double battle, just like a Contest, which made it easier. It still kinda felt like a fluke, though. I do like battling, but Gyms were always just . . . another world, really. Too intense."
"Mon ami, you're at the top of the Contest game right now. Your appeals and battling skill are both at a ridiculously high level, and you've literally just come from a runner-up performance at the biggest Contest event in Hoenn - and you're trying to tell me Gym battles are 'too intense'? Give me a break!" Veronique said with a snort. "Ah, never mind. We're here. You ever ride a train before, country boy?"
"Okay," Alex said levelly, setting his luggage down on the platform at Coumarine's railway station. "I wasn't lying when I said I'd been on a train before, but that was completely different to anything I have ever experienced."
"Why, Alex, you look a little green! Don't tell me the maglev was too much for you to handle?"
Alex just shook his head, not even daring to snap back at her. In truth, he was feeling more than a little queasy. Thankfully, he was saved from any further teasing by the appearance of their final ride of the day.
"Veronique, ma cherie!" A heavyset, middle-aged woman with her auburn hair in curls came bustling through the throng crowding the platform, fairly sweeping Veronique off her feet in an almost violently affectionate bear hug. Renée Vincent showered her daughter's face with kisses before plonking her back on her feet and holding her at arm's length. "Goodness, dear, how you have grown!"
"I came to visit last summer, Mama! I haven't grown that much!" Veronique protested, gracefully managing to extricate herself and sliding casually behind Alex, elbowing him forwards. "But look who else I brought with me!"
"Ah! Now there's a fine young man! I almost didn't recognise you, Alexandre! How tall and handsome you've become!"
Alex chuckled at the corruption of his name. "I only look tall because I'm standing next to Veronique, tata Renée," he said, using the informal address Veronique had taught him so many years ago. Before he could continue, however, he was having the wind crushed out of him by a maternal hug almost as fierce as the one Veronique had received.
"Non, little Alex! You are taller than me now, and that is more than tall enough! But come, we can talk more at home. Veronique, your papa is most excited to see you - I cannot keep you two all to myself today!" Renée drew back and took a deep breath, beaming from ear to ear. She clasped her hands joyfully in front of her and for a moment, looked as if she would burst into song. "Ah, I am so happy! Not one, but two of my little hatchlings return to the nest today! Come, come, we must go back. I have left Jean in charge of the pâtisserie, but he cannot handle it by himself for long."
"Oh, Jean is home too?" Veronique asked as Renée led the two of them out of the station. "I thought he was working at that marine bio lab out in Cyllage?"
"He's taken a couple of weeks of paid leave, plus some vacation time to come home and help while your father is unwell. I wouldn't have had to ask him, but since you couldn't make it home until after Alex's competition . . ."
Alex frowned privately as he saw a flash of guilt cross Veronique's face. Interesting. It sounded like Renée had wanted Veronique to come home earlier, but she had put it off until after the Grand Festival for his sake. There had been no malice in Renée's voice as she spoke, but it was obvious Veronique felt more than a little bad about it.
"How is uncle Christophe, then?" Alex asked carefully as they crammed their suitcases into the back of Renée's small car. "I hope it's nothing too serious."
"You are sweet, Alex, but it's really nothing to worry about at this stage. It was a nasty case of bronchitis, but he's actually on the mend now. It could still be another few weeks before he's ready to work again, though, so it's good to have Veronique here - and you too, if you'd like to help out."
"I don't have a problem with that," Alex said easily. There were worse fates in the world than part-time work in a cake shop in a seaside town like this. As they peeled away from the station, Alex found himself once again doing his level best to explore the city with his eyes. He could tell immediately that Coumarine was much less urbanised than Lumiose; the city centre was full of open plazas and wide avenues, sweeping boulevards and charming little parks. A few shiny glass-fronted buildings clustered together in a downtown business district, but they were tasteful and confined to their own area. The most obvious concession to the twenty-first century was a state-of-the-art monorail system that wended its way through the hills and cliffs upon which the seaside city was built. Thankfully, it didn't appear to move anywhere near as fast as the maglev train which had brought them here.
A short while later, they pulled to a halt in front of the most rustic shopping strip available. A mere couple of blocks from the seafront, Le Pâtisserie Vincent nestled comfortably between a kitsch cafe and a trendy clothing boutique, boasting a colourful, vibrant storefront topped by a striped awning. A selection of cakes and pastries adorned the window display, ranging from the classic and demure to the garish and modern. The sea breeze filtered down the street, softened by the twisting maze of the shopping district, but still carrying with it the distinctive briny scent that had been everywhere in Hoenn. It was comfortingly familiar among the bizarre and alien world in which he now found himself.
Alex let out a low whistle as Renée led them inside. "You know, this is exactly how I'd always expected a real Kalosian pâtisserie to be. We have things like this in Hoenn, but at the same time . . . they're nothing like this."
Renée smiled indulgently. "You won't find anything like this overseas, mon cher. Oh, leave your bags, loves, you can bring them in later."
Following Renée and Veronique inside, Alex saw a handful of customers lined up in front of a glass display case packed with still more pastries and desserts, being attended to by a tall young man with strawberry blond hair that he recognised vaguely. "Jean?"
At the sound of his name, Jean jumped visibly, then broke into a grin as he saw the newcomers. "Little Alex! Good to see you, but we'll have to catch up later. Mama, thank heavens you're back. Could you . . . ?" He gestured uncomfortably at the till in front of him.
Renée rolled her eyes with exaggerated exasperation. "Well, I suppose it's business as usual. Veronique, go and see your father. He's upstairs in bed right now, if he actually listened to me. Alex, you can wait around here for the moment."
"No worries," Alex said with a smile, backing up against the wall and observing the maelstrom of activity with some nostalgia. He had never been to the shop before, of course, but Renée and her son filled it with the same frantic energy that they had brought with them to every kitchen they visited. A cook by nature, Renée Vincent had been baking up a storm even when living in Hoenn as a full-time mother. The Vincent household had been the envy of every kid on the street, not least Alex himself, who had always had something of a sweet tooth. He watched with a quiet amusement as Renée ordered her son - some seven years Alex's senior - back into the kitchen and took over dealing with the customers, who, while polite, seemed relieved to have been spared from Jean's customer service.
As his eyes wandered across the array of treats in the display, Alex frowned. Tucked away among the familiar products of Kalosian baking - mille-feuille, madeleines, éclairs, and macarons - was a whole section dedicated to something he didn't recognise. Sidling closer, he bent over to examine the case. Rows upon rows of glistening, colourful orbs lined the shelves. They resembled macarons at a glance, but the texture seemed different somehow and they weren't split in two. Actually, upon closer inspection, they were all different, and not only in colour. Some seemed to be more biscuity, while others could have been cupcakes. Roughly ovoid, the one thing they all shared was a layer of icing on top, surmounted by various decorations: more frosting, edible flowers, berries, chocolate or spun sugar.
"Interested in our Poké Puffs, hmm?"
Alex glanced up almost guiltily to see that Renée had already sent the customers on their way. "Poké what now?" he said blankly. "I was just curious, since I've never seen anything like these before."
"Ah, oui, it would be like that, wouldn't it? These Poké Puffs never really took off overseas. I tried to sell some back in Hoenn once, but people just looked at me like I was crazy. Pastries for Pokémon? The very idea was foreign to them. Maybe one day . . . but for now, we will sell them here. They've been extra popular ever since the Showcase Theatre opened up in town." Renée gestured vaguely eastwards, further along the waterfront.
"All right, hold up. You're gonna have to start over from the beginning," Alex laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm totally lost. You make these for Pokémon? Are they made of, like, normal Pokémon food?"
"You might think that. Here," Renée said with a laugh, reaching into the display cabinet and withdrawing a simple pink Puff, which she handed to Alex.
He took it hesitantly, examining it closely. It was crumbly and gently perfumed, a sweet, light scent that made his mouth water. "Well, it certainly seems edible," he said dubiously.
Renée was evidently enjoying his confusion. "Most of them are," she said. "You can make Poké Puffs out of all sorts of things, but the majority are just your usual baked goods. That one's a Pink Lady, made with shredded coconut. Other varieties are denser, more like breads or biscuits than cakes. Most of them use some kind of berry for flavouring, but the possibilities are really only limited by your imagination. Eat it, boy. It won't kill you," she added, seeing him still hesitating.
Just a cupcake, right? Screwing up his courage, Alex took a bite of the Puff, then chewed carefully and swallowed. Spongy and crumbly, it had a surprisingly rich, buttery flavour offset by the coconut. The icing was soft and sweet as well. "It's delicious," he admitted. "You used to make this as a proper cake back in Petalburg, right?"
"I had a feeling you'd remember." Renée sounded pleased. "The recipe has been tweaked a little, but it's still the same Pink Lady you kids always enjoyed."
"And you feed these to Pokémon?" Alex asked between bites as he polished off the rest of the pastry. "Forgive me, but that just seems a little . . . weird. The line between human and Pokémon food isn't that thin."
"It's thinner than you might think, and blurry too," Renée informed him. "Veronique told me you participate in Contests, right? What do you feed your Pokémon to improve their condition?"
Alex shrugged. "Pokéblocks, sometimes Poffins. Different berries make different flavours, different flavours are favoured by different Pokémon. That's a bit different, though."
"Is it?" Renée grinned mischievously in a way that resembled her daughter to a frightening degree. "Poké Puffs work on a similar principle. Here in Kalos, they are the premier food for Pokémon competing in Showcases - so much so that some Showcases actually have events revolving around preparing them."
"That sounds . . ." Ridiculous, he wanted to say. ". . . unique. What's the deal with Showcases, anyway? I guess they're kind of like Contests, right?"
"Sure, you could say that. You'll have to get Veronique to explain them to you in detail, though. She's the one most interested in that kind of thing."
Alex nodded slowly, casting an eye over the laden shelves of Poké Puffs with a newly critical eye. "Thanks, tata Renée. I'll do that." As another customer entered the store, he returned once more to his position on the far wall, observing - but also thinking. He didn't get to think for long, though, as Jean soon poked his head out of the kitchen behind Renée.
"'Allo? A little help in here, if you could?" he called.
Realising that the plea was directed at him - Renée was still busy serving customers - Alex raised an eyebrow, but slipped behind the counter and followed Jean into the kitchen. A surprisingly small area made even smaller by the presence of several large, complicated-looking ovens and other machines that loomed against the brick walls like robotic invaders.
"Sorry to drag you in here, Alex, but I got so far behind while I was working front of house . . . do you think you could help me?" Jean winced as he asked for Alex's help. There was buttercream splattered across his chest that hadn't been there five minutes earlier.
"I haven't baked anything bigger than a Poffin in a few years," Alex said wryly, but he gamely rolled up his sleeves and accepted the white apron that Jean handed him.
"Not to worry, I just need you to back me up," Jean said. "Roll this out, stir that, pull those out of the oven, that sort of thing. You down?"
"Sounds like a cakewalk."
Jean rolled his eyes. "Don't let my darling sister hear you making jokes like that, or she'll kick your ass five ways to next Wednesday."
"Don't I know it," Alex said with a grin. "Where do I start?"
In the end, it took them a little over an hour before Mme. Vincent decided the kitchen was back up to speed. The pace had been frantic, but surprisingly enjoyable. Exhausted, Alex cleaned down his bench and washed his hands before shedding his apron and stepping back out into the shop, where Veronique was standing and talking to her mother.
"I know I said Alex wouldn't mind helping, but I didn't mean as soon as we got here, Mama!" she was saying, her familiar scowl back in place. "At least let us get one good night's sleep in before you start working us to the bone!"
"Don't worry about it, V," Alex said, waving a hand dismissively. "I slept on the plane, so I'm hardly tired at all. Besides, it's partly my fault Jean had to hold down the fort on his own, right?"
"But-"
"Listen to little Alex, ma cherie," Renée cut her daughter off. "He's a good boy, and he's been a big help already. You could learn from him!"
Veronique continued to grumble inaudibly, but faced with the two of them, she backed down. "Fine."
Turning to Alex, Renée smiled as if nothing had happened. "I had Veronique bring your things inside while you were helping out, dear. You'll have to share with Jean, if that's all right?"
"No worries," Alex said. Back when they had all lived in the same neighbourhood in Hoenn, the age gap had made it difficult for Alex and Jean to get along. That didn't seem to matter now, though, and he had gained a newfound respect for the guy after working together like that. For a man who was supposed to be a marine biologist by trade, Jean worked like a maniac in the kitchen. He supposed it came with the territory, growing up in a house run by Renée Vincent. "How is uncle Christophe, by the way?"
"He's sleeping now, I think," Veronique said, a touch of softness creeping into her voice. "You can talk to him tomorrow."
Alex nodded. "Of course. Wouldn't want to bother him just yet."
"Right!" Veronique declared, suddenly animated. She seized his arm, yanking him towards the door that led up into the residence. "You're meant to be on holiday, mister, so as your manager, I am officially prescribing an evening off! Dinner's at eight. Head upstairs and get some rest."
"I don't mind, but what are you going to do?" Alex asked as she shoved him towards the stairs.
Grimacing, Veronique half-turned back towards the kitchen. "Looks like it's my turn to play kitchen bitch. Go on, I'll catch up later. Jean's room is the second door on the right."
Arms aching - mixing batter was surprisingly physical work, and he was unfit at the best of times - Alex acquiesced and climbed the stairs, out of the light and bustle of the shop and into a cool, dim hallway. Taking a long, deep breath, Alex found the right door and slipped inside. A camp stretcher had been neatly set up along one wall, with his bags arrayed next to it. Suddenly very tired, he flopped down on the temporary bed.
Just a quick nap, then . . .
In the last seconds before he drifted off to sleep, Alex faintly realised that he hadn't once thought about his defeat in the Grand Festival since setting foot in Coumarine City. Maybe there was something to Veronique's idea, after all.
He would still have to confront his demons at some point, though. The thought caused his gut to twist uncomfortably, but he rolled over and tried to ignore it. There would be plenty of time for that later.
