William insisted that it must be because I'd fought so skilfully to get the bird back under control, when it was obvious that nothing could have stopped it from bolting. At any rate, I was able to return to my beloved, real home again at last, this time doing what I loved and making a name for myself. The initiate riders' rooms were nowhere near as grand as my own, as the daughter of the best rider the Gold Saucer had, but in the interests of teamship I moved into the cramped, sparse room they offered, with shared amenities.

The other initiates were nice but uninterested. We'd had to compete fiercely for a spot on the team and knew we'd still have to fight to keep it. To keep B-class from being flooded and make room for the new C riders, a fair number of initiates were dumped each year; during off-season before they'd even really competed, during on-season if they didn't keep their scores up, and immediately after the season ended, to make room for the up-and-comers. A few small cliques developed, of nervous riders clinging to others for support, but it seemed an uneasy alliance and I was glad I didn't need to be a part of it. A few others from our school group had been picked up, and we all ate together and sometimes caught plays together, but they were under a different coach to William and I so between our training schedule and theirs, we rarely saw them otherwise.

Jonah had been picked up by a fledgling independent team, Momentum. No one was really sure why he'd ended up with them – several people swore they knew for a fact he'd been offered spots on some of the top teams, a few people thought he'd even been offered GS. We spent many hours over coffee, and later beer, discussing what to do, eventually deciding on taking an indefinite break in our relationship so we could both focus on our careers. While I missed him intensely, the upside was that I no longer had to choose between spending time with him or with William. My old tutor and I trained together daily, going for morning run and whipping our birds into peak fitness. The stables here had constant surveillance, so there was no possibility that anyone could interfere with Sparkle Cowboy. We were provided with the GS rider uniforms, the deep green marking us as C-class initiates. We were rearing for a chance to prove ourselves, when we would receive our first invitation to ride.

Since we had arrived during the off season, C-Class races were common, while the A riders were elsewhere on the circuit, or in intensive training, and the people needed entertainment. It was still three weeks before William or I were summoned, but we weren't bored for a second. I was delighted to have someone to show around my childhood haunt, guiding him as though through my own house.

I proudly displayed my high scores on every game, and took him through the shortcuts and secret passages I'd discovered. We spent hours sitting by the chocobo tracks discussing our competition. Father was still in Costa del Sol, though he'd sent an enthusiastic congratulatory message when I'd been accepted to the GS team, wearing the colours he himself had donned twenty years ago.

Will and I grew close. I'd become accustomed to company and didn't want to lose it. He was grateful to have someone who knew the terrain, where he'd been thrown into a whole new environment, another level of glitz for a country boy used to wide open spaces. While most of the other riders were scared, lonely, uncertain, we sloped about in confidence, always together. I still thought of Jonah often, but I was sure he was fine in his new team; he was the most unflappable person I'd ever met.

Some days I did wish that it was Jonah beside me at GS. I missed his wit, and his supreme confidence and his charm. I felt that if Jonah were on the team there might be some more kinship between me and the others on the team, with his charisma there to open the door. But Will was kind where Joe was harsh, and so constantly good-natured that he was probably the best person to have with me as the weeks went past and still neither of us were invited to race.

In the end, Will was asked first, the fifth of the first season initiates to race. I helped him to prepare, training extra hard all week, pep-talking him and researching his competitors. He jokingly forced me to 'sweet-talk' one rider, Rudolf Green whose white mount Daisy reminded me of sweet old Wind. My poor attempts to flirt slipped into a heated discussion about the lineage of whites, ended when Will, shamelessly eavesdropping, was motioning so frantically at me to get back onto topic that Rudolf noticed him, and the two of us had to run back to 'hide out' in my family's quarters, where we laughed until we were crying.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous, that Will had an opportunity to ride while I was still waiting, but I shoved it away and tried to be genuinely happy for him. Being super sensitive for a boy he was surely aware of it, and touched my shoulder or squeezed my arm a few times, an unusual action for him, as he wasn't a very physically affectionate person.

Finally his race day arrived. I went to his quarters at almost dawn, knowing that he would be awake.

"Morning Ester," he tried to smile, his face drawn and pale.

"Don't be nervous," I laughed, "You'll be great."

He looked unconvinced, as I dragged him down to breakfast and forced him to eat. We'd polished all of Greta's tack the day before, so we put it on her together, then walked her around the course, going over his strategy and his competitors' weaknesses. He rested after grooming Greta and eating a short lunch, and then suddenly it was time for him to get ready.

He seemed to have gotten over his nerves, and was talking animatedly. He was usually fairly low-energy and relaxed; this was probably the most energised I'd seen him. I walked him to the jockey room, then went back and sat in the stands by myself. There were a few familiar faces but I wanted to watch alone, couldn't be bothered with small talk.

When the jockeys came out he stood out, sitting absolutely still and calm on the back of his lilac mount. The other jockeys fidgeted, looked around, but my cool, collected friend just stroked his chocobo and stared ahead. I was growing nervous in his place, biting my lip and sizing up the other riders one last time.

I needn't have worried. Greta had great stats after all her training, and fell easily into first place, juggling between a sprint and a dash and easily outrunning the rest of them. The commentators announced that the boy was misplaced; here was a rider who was clearly ready for B-Class at least, and I couldn't help a little pang of jealousy. I was determined that they would say the same for me, whenever I was called.

William was invited to an after-race party to celebrate but declined, and we drank wine in my room and stayed up until dawn planning how awesome we were going to be in the future, and how we would turn the world around.

I waited for them to call me to my race, but as the weeks went on I began to doubt that the call would come. After three months, when Will had won half a dozen races and was approaching B-class times, I went to talk to the race organisers.

I was allowed in instantly, as Dio was a close friend of my father's. He was a fairly young man, about fifteen years older than me, who had only been running the chocobos for ten years, but was almost solely responsible for turning it from a small-time hobby into a flourishing international sport.

"Estelle!" he greeted me warmly, "How have you been?"

"Um, not so well actually," I told him, cutting to the chase immediately, "I was just wondering when I'm going to get to race." I'm now known for my no-bullshit attitude, in fact I think that's what's helped me to become the manager I am, and garner the respect I need to do my job. At the time I was so scared on the inside that I was pinching my own legs to keep a brave face.

Dio pursed his lips. "We've got an opportunity lined up," he told me, "We're waiting for a special occasion to introduce you to the circuit. You're a big name, and we want to use the publicity it will earn us."

"Is it soon?" I asked him, "Because I'm just waiting around and it's making me crazy."

"Less than three weeks," he assured me. I was a little bit confused, because the serious chocobo season began again in a fortnight, and the A-level riders would be returning, Father among them.

"So after that I'll be able to ride regularly?"

"Well…" Dio hesitated, "Yes, assuming you perform well enough. We took something of a risk taking you on, you know, after what happened in the Opens."

"Opens?" I repeated, "Well I know it wasn't good, but I can ride! You haven't even tested me! Ask Coach DeRobbins, I-"

"Estelle, you were debirded. If it weren't for your father…"

It suddenly hit me. I felt my mouth drop open. "My father? You mean… you only took me on because of Father?"

"Well we weren't going to pass up our hero's daughter," Dio chuckled conspiringly but I just stared back at him in horror.

"Let me ride," I told him firmly, "And I will prove that I can."

"Three weeks," he promised, and stood up to escort me to the door.

I returned to my room, raged at the walls, then went to find Will. He was practicing dodges with Greta, but slid from her back and made his way over to me when I stormed onto the track.

"What's up?" he asked, frowning. I told him what Dio had told me, along with an expletive-ridden description of the man and a hard kick to a feed bucket.

Will stared back at me, equally disgusted. "But you can ride!" he exclaimed, "Why even have you here at all if they're not letting you ride? Why not just let you stay here as a citizen?"

"I don't know," I told him, close to tears as usual. Why was it that every time I cried it was with William Choco? "Gods, why didn't they just leave me? Maybe someone else would have had me, and taken me for who I am, and not made me wait two months!"

"Well at least you'll have your chance soon," he shrugged, "Train extra hard and teach them for ever doubting you."

I smiled up at him fiercely. "I will," I swore, and I intended to.

I received my invitation a week later, and the stakes were raised. It was for an exhibition ride, in the official opening of the on-season. It would be watched by thousands, and the most famous riders in the world would participate. I could feel that this time Will was the jealous one, but I didn't have time to attempt to reassure him. I spent nearly every waking moment training, slashing through one personal best after another, until I was almost sure that Sparkle Cowboy was flying with his stubby little wings.

On the day of the ride it was Will helping me, shining my tack and making me eat at breakfast. We were largely unnoticed, as the A-Riders had begun to appear a few days ago. My father had flown in that night, though I hadn't had a chance to see him. The rainbow silks of a dozen smaller teams filled the dining hall, and we had to push our way through once we were done eating.

I was due at the course as soon as breakfast ended, for a rehearsal of the ride. As I entered on Sparkle Cowboy, I was surprised to see that there were a handful of A riders, including, I saw, my stomach dropping in realisation, my father.

"Estelle!" he grinned, steering his mount toward mine, "How's it going? Ready to ride with your old man?"

"With you?" I repeated slowly.

"Oh, they haven't briefed you I take it? Simple as pie, the A-Class do the run, plenty of flash and pizzazz, and you and Rob – have you two met, actually? Estelle, this is my protégé Robel, Rob this is my daughter Estelle – flank me either side, run along behind me grinning at the crowd. They've got some doohickey set up, you'll have glitter or light or something blasting out behind you. You won't have any problems."

I had more than a few problems, actually. Rob, a silent, compact, tightly muscled boy a few years older than me, and I trailed my father, like children propped up on tamed fairground donkeys trained to plod along in a line. The A-Class riders ducked and weaved magnificently, their subordinates following like fools.

They made us rehearse until lunchtime, as though even a child couldn't pick up on the single instruction. As soon as it was over I took Sparkle Cowboy to the stables as fast as I could without galloping, and set about removing his tack and cooling him down furiously. I knew Will would be waiting, and was close to tears of mortification at the thought of explaining to him that I wasn't even riding with my father – I was trailing him.

I couldn't delay it forever, and needed to rant, so I headed out of the stables and toward my quarters, where I was sure he'd wait. As soon as I stepped out, though, I almost ran into a familiar figure, dressed in bright orange silks and lounging insolently in a corridor strictly for GS riders only. His hair was longer than before, packed so densely on his head that it sat up straight and bristled in every direction, and somehow his legs had also grown even longer, but he was practically the same as ever.

"Jonah!" I shrieked, and threw myself at him. He laughed and pushed at me as I punched him semi-jokingly in the head, "Why didn't you write, you loser? Too important with your new team?" In truth I hadn't written to him either, but he didn't mention that.

"I was daunted. Why would a GS rider want to associate with a puny little independent for?"

My stomach flipped. GS rider. Joe twisted the knife.

"But then I got here and it turns out, you aren't one, are you?" he asked, his voice quiet.

I just looked at him. What was there to say? We'd dreamed so big, back in school. Three months suddenly felt like a long time, to have done nothing while everyone else did the opposite.

"I was watching," he told me.

"They're making me look like an idiot," I whispered.

"You don't need this, Estelle," he told me emphatically. "You're brilliant and we both know it."

I was still holding onto his forearms, and I felt how he had changed. His muscles were rock hard and more defined under his silks, and every bit of him was tanned. His hand, which reached up to grasp my wrist, was calloused and strong. I traced a hand over the orange material on his chest, felt his pectorals, and beneath them, his heart. I studied the lurid colour, because I didn't know what else to look at. .

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked him, "Drop out? Go back to following my father around? Become a, a, a teacher? Or a cook? Or a, a SOLDIER?"

"Defect," he told me simply.

"Defect?" I repeated, looking up into his face.

"Momentum will have you," he grinned, and I was reminded just how white his teeth were, and how many of them there were. I remembered putting my mouth over his, how many hours I'd spent with him. He wasn't as loyal and dependable as Will, but when he set out of do something, he got it done. "Even more, Momentum will make you a star. Tonight."

He was intoxicating. Putting my life in his hands wasn't even a choice, why bother fighting it? "What do I do?"