Chapter Six
In which Diantha goes to leave him, and he gives her even more of a reason.
Early in the morning, Diantha's phone began to ring. The loud sound woke her with a start; she shot up into a seated position, nearly throwing her comforter off her person. That combined with being tired and mildly hungover, she reached for her phone, answering it without any regard to the specific tone.
"Hello?" As she said it, she began to register that it was Mel's ring tone.
"You didn't answer any of my calls last night!"
She fell back into her pillows, feeling a stomach ache coming on. "Not even a 'how are you', huh?" she asked, making sure he was well aware of how exasperated she was with him.
He ignored her. "What were you doing? What have you been doing?"
For a second, she thought to lie, saying she had simply been sleeping. Maybe it would have been believable enough. Had she not been with Cynthia, it was likely all her plans for the evening would have come to.
Instead, she decided to tell him the truth. "I was with Cynthia. We went to get drinks after filming."
He sighed. "You know, I really don't like how much time you've been spending with her. I feel like ever since you started this project, you've just been around her too much."
She scoffed, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position. "She's my costar. It's kind of imperative that we spend time together." Maybe not as much as they did outside the studio. She certainly never spent as much time with other costars; but that didn't matter. They were friends, and without many other friends in the region, it made sense to spend time with one another.
"Just makes me wonder what you've really been doing."
The implication brought her into a seated position again. It wasn't the first time he had alluded to an accusation of cheating. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, trying to keep her tone even. If she reacted too strongly, he would continue suspecting her.
"I just don't think it's appropriate to spend so much time with your costar. You should be together on set, not off it."
She rolled her eyes hard enough to give herself a quick headache. "What? Am I not allowed to spend time with a friend?" she asked, throwing her comforter off her body. She was getting mad, and it was making her hot.
There was silence, but she could imagine him shrugging. "You never mentioned her before, so I didn't even realize you two were friends," he defended.
She could maybe give him that.
"She's the champion of Sinnoh. I'm the champion of Kalos." She knew he was going to be upset by the simple reminder. It always upset him, and yet, she couldn't even bring herself to care about his inadequacy issues anymore. She was tired of selling herself short to make him feel better. "Now that we've finally had time to work with one another, it turns out our leagues are very similar. Of course we became friends!"
He made a disapproving noise on his end. "I just wish you wouldn't see her so much. I wish even more you wouldn't drink around her. There's just no guarantee what will happen if you drink too much around her, and even though we're in the middle of a rough patch, it would just break my heart if anything were to happen."
Whether he was implying that she couldn't control herself, or that Cynthia was secretly some kind of monster waiting to take advantage of her while drunk, she didn't care. Both were making her equally furious. How dare he try to imply something about a woman he knew nothing about?
"Do you not trust me?" she asked.
"Should I not?" he countered.
She wanted to yell. Yell and scream and tell him all about how awful he was, and about how much she wanted to leave him.
Before she could, memories from last night with Cynthia returned to the forefront of her mind. All the flirting, touching, and every desire to kiss her senseless came back in an instant.
Fine, she decided. A broken clock was right twice a day, and his paranoia happened to strike at just the right time.
With a heavy sigh, she asked, "Are you still filming in Mistralton?"
"Uh–" he seemed thrown off by the question. "Yeah? Things are wrapping up by Monday, but–"
"That's all I needed to know. I'll have an answer for you soon." With that she hung up, and placed her phone on silent.
She was going to leave him, but she was going to leave him in person. While it would probably just be easier over the phone, she wanted to be able to look him in the eyes if he dared to beg her to stick around.
Maybe a part of her hoped he would.
Maybe a part of her still clung to some shred of hope that things would go back to how they used to be. That he would resume being the man who went above and beyond to win her over. That he would resume surprising her with little, but consistent, gestures like showing up unexpectedly just when she wanted to see him the most, or with daily reminders that he was thinking of her and couldn't wait to see her whenever they had planned next.
The realization, however, that things could never go back to that left a heavy feeling in her chest.
Dehydration from her mild hangover –which, goodness, she realized how much of a lightweight she really was– left her unable to cry, so, for the time being, she would get a head start on her morning. The only thing she needed to do was take care of herself for the day.
She would drink some water and make some tea, sitting on her couch with a view out into the city until she was finally hydrated enough to be able to cry.
Despite wanting out so badly, knowing she was going to be leaving behind four year's worth of a relationship still hurt. So, she would mourn what was going to be lost, and allow herself to sit in that depressed emotion for a while.
Eventually, Gardevoir would release herself from her poké ball, a soothing and comforting aura about her, along with a gentle reminder of sorts to at least eat lunch.
That would be nearly all she could manage for the day, because tomorrow, it was sure to be at least a little worse. But then she would be free. Free to do whatever with whoever…
Standing outside The Motel Bar in Mistralton City, Diantha took a deep breath in one last attempt to gather her nerve. She had been dropped off by a driver a while ago, and finally decided on exactly what she wanted to say to Mel. He wouldn't make time to see her, so she was going to go to him, and end things there. She had dragged it out for long enough. It was well past time.
The second she stepped foot into the bar one of the crewmen was quick to stop her.
"I'm sorry, Miss, we're–"
"I'm here to see the director," she said, keeping emotion out of her voice. The second she let it in, it would ruin everything.
He seemed off put by her cold attitude. "Is he expecting you…?"
She shook her head. "No, but he will make time for me. Now let me through," she told him.
He stepped back, but not without rolling his eyes and making a rude comment under his breath.
Following the set noise around her, she worked her way through the throng of people, keeping an eye out for his dyed blond head. Cameras were set up, and people were seated around the bar, reading over some papers. Surly Mel would be around.
"Miss Diantha?"
Hearing her name, she followed the voice, locking eyes with one of Mel's personal assistants. He was a wiry young man, barely taller than herself, with long brown hair pulled up into a neat bun.
"Theo, where's the director?" she asked. She hoped her emphasis of 'the director' as opposed to his name would let the young man know that this was a serious matter.
"Uh," he stammered. He looked around nervously, clutching his tablet closer to his chest. "He's a little occupied at the minute, Miss Diantha." He looked around, seeming to be hoping for some backup of some sort.
"He can spare a moment, Theo. I'm not going to be long," she told him, attempting to step away from him. If he wasn't going to give her any answers, she would just figure it out. There weren't too many places he could be within the bar, anyways. Somewhere was probably set up to be his temporary office.
He stepped in her way, blocking her from leaving. "I'm sorry, Miss Diantha, he's busy– Was he expecting you?"
She had only been asked twice, but she was already fed up with the question. She crossed her arms. "No. Where is he, Theo?"
"The back office has been turned into his office for now, but he's really busy right now and I don't think–"
"If I wasn't so upset right now, I would be very concerned with how you're behaving, but I have a conversation that I need to have with Mel that cannot wait." She stepped around him, ignoring his further attempts to stall her, and forcing down whatever thoughts tried to creep up of just why he was trying to stall her.
"Somebody get me a communicator!"
That she couldn't ignore.
A few other people called for her attention; some questions of what she was doing on their set, but they were all ignored. She was a woman on a mission.
At the end of the hallway that lead towards the restrooms was another door that was opened. It was her best shot. After that, all that was left to search was the kitchen.
In the doorway, her hands fell to her side at the sight of just what –or, rather, who– was keeping Mel so busy.
A young redheaded woman seating atop his makeshift desk, his hand on her thigh, just enough distance between them for Diantha to safely assume he had probably been kissing her. What also hurt was that she knew this woman. Aria Grey. They had crossed paths plenty of times, and had even worked on the same set together a few times.
Mel looked up to see who was in his office, eyes wide the second he registered who it was.
All at once she felt anger, humiliation, and betrayal, and all of it was enough to burn her with a hot flash.
But just as quickly as the feelings came, they were replaced with a deathly calm. "Well, isn't this a sight?" she said, harrowed by the feeling of being unable to express anything. It was as if she had taken a step back from her own body, only able to watch what was happening. Anything she wanted to express refused to come to her.
"Diantha– shit– I–" He quickly stood, Aria throwing a look over her shoulder, looking just about as horrified as he did.
"So, is this why you've been so busy?" she asked.
"It's not what you think!" he attempted.
She shrugged, looking between the two of them. "What else am I supposed to think about my boyfriend's hand on another woman's thigh?" She wanted to yell.
Aria hopped off the desk, looking up at Mel. "You told me you left her!"
Maybe Aria was trying to cover her own ass, but Diantha decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. "Aria, this is between me and Mel. You should leave," she told her.
Her shoes clicked on the wood floor, the sound irritating Diantha even more. "Diantha, I am so sorry, I–"
The look she gave her was cold enough to stop her. "Leave, Aria, before I take my anger out on you, too."
Without another word, she left, leaving just her and Mel alone in the office. Down the hall she could still hear voices of everyone on set. Silence sat heavy between them for a few minutes.
She crossed and uncrossed her arms a few times, trying to figure out where to begin. The deathly calm she was experiencing was freaking her out, but she couldn't even properly experience that feeling. No matter how much she wanted to yell, her voice remained calm. "How long?" she finally asked.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Diantha–"
"How. Long," she repeated.
He sighed again. "It's not…been just her."
He had already broken her heart. Now he was just stepping on the pieces. "Tell me how long," she demanded, feeling a tinge of something for the first time since stepping in his office. She wouldn't cry, though. Not here. He wasn't worth her tears.
He refused to make eye contact as he answered. "For the past two years…"
"Two years?" Her voice cracked. "Why– Mel!" She felt the calm cracking.
Sure, she was well aware that things had been going south since the beginning of the year, but thinking back to two years prior, things had at least been better. She was positive she, at the time, saw a future with him, and couldn't think of anything that would lead her to believe he was being unfaithful.
"I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry enough.
"Sorry? You're sorry? How could you?"
He didn't seem to have an answer for her, instantly sending her on a downward spiral.
What had she done to deserve that? Was it punishment for flirting with Cynthia? Was it punishment for having the nerve to find her attractive from the moment she met her? Was it punishment for her behavior during the last international meeting? Was it some sort of punishment for not being good enough?
On that thought, she stopped herself. She had been more than good enough. She had been better than he deserved. It wasn't a crime to find someone attractive, and the thing with Cynthia was only recent. While, still treading into emotionally cheating, it didn't mean it was okay for him to have been cheating on her for the last two years with who knows how many other women.
He tried taking another step towards her, reaching a hand out. "Babe, I–"
She swatted his hand away. She wasn't about to let him ever call her that again. "Don't you even try to sweet talk me! I swore off every other person to be with you exclusively! And you cheat on me for two whole years instead of just leaving?"
She still refused to cry.
He threw his hands up, exasperated. "Look! You're always gone, and we're never in the same region! You just– And all the shit you've put me through in the past month? You don't know what it's like!"
She wouldn't cry. Even as he tried to pin this all as her fault, even though he was clearly in control of his own actions.
"Are you really going to stand here and try to blame me? For your cheating?" She closed the distance between them, intent on getting in his face. Even though she still struggled to get across just how upset she was, she would make it clear to him. "You made the conscious decision, Mel Gardner! I didn't tell you to crawl into bed with someone! And what about your whole nonsense about the beast we work with? You're the only always telling me how you're the only one who would understand not being around each other often!"
"Keep your voice down– we don't want–"
"Oh, please, it seems to me that everyone on your set is already aware of what you've been doing. Everyone seemed pretty intent on stalling for as much time as possible before I got to you." She found her thoughts all over the place, wanting to be mad about everything. Keeping her words in order was becoming a chore. She just wanted to smack him and never have to deal with him ever again.
He stepped back from her, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "Diantha, let's just…let's just keep this at a low profile for now. Until both our projects are done. I'll have Andrew arrange to send you your things."
As always, it had to be whatever was most convenient for him. It brought tears to her eyes and a tremble to her voice. Now she was just struggling to retain the calm. "So fucking help me if I ever see you again."
She hesitated for a mere second, allowing herself one last look over the face of the man she swore she loved not long ago. A pop of freckles across his face telling her he had been in the sun recently. Facial hair he always kept perfectly groomed. His blue-grey eyes. His dyed blond hair had been maybe redone a month ago, because his roots were starting to show.
She forced herself to start walking, not wanting to start remembering when times had still been good. It was all tainted with the knowledge that he had been cheating on her.
She wasn't one to subscribe to 'An eye for an eye' mentality, but she couldn't help but think her thing with Cynthia was exactly what he deserved.
His footsteps followed her into the back hallway, but he never said anything to stop her.
The main area of the bar was suddenly too loud. Every little sound echoed around her. From the idle chatter between all the extras, the screeching of a chair against the wooden floor, to the sound of heels on wood that were getting louder towards her.
"Diantha, please, I am so, so sorry."
She looked up into Aria's hazel eyes, and for a second, she wanted to be furious. How hard was a simple Google search to verify if she and Mel had actually broken up or not?
Putting a hand up, she simply dismissed the other woman, not wanting to risk taking her anger out on her. Diantha would continue to give her the benefit of the doubt. She didn't need more to be angry about.
As if to rub salt in the wound, Theo stopped her just before she could escape the over-stimulation of the bar.
"Miss Diantha, I am so sorry," he said, looking down at her with sad brown eyes.
Unfortunately for him, Theo wasn't safe from her wrath. The only grace she would offer him was keeping her voice down. "If you were truly sorry, you would have told me any of the last six times I've seen you," she hissed.
He shrunk into his tablet again, stepping aside to let her pass.
Without another word to anyone, she stepped out into the cool Mistralton evening. Thick, billowy white clouds had formed to the north, and the smell of rain permeated the air with a dampness that signaled an oncoming storm front.
Sincerely, from the very bottom of her heart, she hoped it ruined Mel's shoot.
From her purse she withdrew Gardevoir's poké ball, who instead released herself before anything had to be said.
She looked at Diantha with sympathy, but radiated an energy that was warm and comforting. It was as if she was saying, 'Concentrate on my energy,' so that she wouldn't have to feel anything apart from it.
"My dear Sylvia, I am terribly sorry to ask this of you since it's such a long journey, but I need to get back to home in Castelia." She felt her voice wanting to crack. "I don't think I can keep it together long enough to be driven back."
With a hum, Gardevoir nodded. Soon enough, they were back in Castelia City, just outside the apartment building. The sun was hidden behind the surrounding buildings, and the air no longer felt saturated by the threat of rain.
"Thank you, dear," Diantha said, looking to Gardevoir.
She held out her poké ball again, knowing that such a long teleportation would have taken a lot of energy out of her.
She shook her head, intent on being out with her longer.
Diantha wasn't in the frame of mind to argue. With a nod to follow her in, they headed inside, and made their way up to her floor. The entire ride, Gardevoir continued to put out her warm aura, but even despite it, the wall Diantha had put up was slowly crumbling around her.
She had stepped back into her body, and hated everything she was beginning to feel.
At her door, she fumbled with the keys, dropping them after a second attempt at fitting the key into its slot. With a frustrated grumble she went to pick them up, forcing the key to fit.
Gardevoir beat her inside, still looking at her with such concern, it was enough to upset her.
She slammed the door behind her, promptly ripping her purse off her body and throwing it into the cushions of her white couch.
"I just don't understand, Gardevoir." She began to pace around the area, eventually coming to a stop at the bar's countertop. "Why wouldn't he just leave? Why did he drag this out for two whole years– I–"
She felt something in her break as she leaned on the marble countertop.
Two years.
The fruit basket that sat atop the marble came into view, and without thinking, she grabbed it and flung it as hard as she could across the room with a distraught yell. Crumbling atop the counter, she hardly had the strength to remain standing as sobs wracked her whole body.
For months now she had wanted to leave him, and just as she had come to the realization that she didn't need a specific reason, he handed her an even bigger reason to leave. All the times he was suspicious of her began to make sense, and maybe even a few instances of where she felt she should have noticed something was amiss.
Realizing that the sound of the fruit basket hitting something never came, she looked up.
In front of her, Gardevoir stood, the basket and its contents in her psychic grasp. Carefully, she put everything back in order on the dining table.
The gesture was kind and not lost on Diantha, but for the moment, she was too consumed with her own pain that it was all she could do to not collapse completely on the kitchen floor.
In an instant, Gardevoir was there, holding her in a tight embrace, humming a low, soothing sound as she carefully lowered them to the ground. It wasn't enough to dry her tears, but it at least gave her something to attempt to focus on rather than all the different "Whys?"
From the living space, a bright flash lit up the room. Goodra, Hawlucha, and Gourgeist had all released themselves, and were now rushing to her side as well. They each gave her concerned whines as they approached.
In Hawlucha's little claws, she held two minimized poké balls for Aurorus and Tyrantrum. While they hadn't appeared, like with Cynthia's Garchomp, there was an energy that radiated from their capsules, cold and warm respectively.
Through teary eyes she looked over her team, only to begin crying all over again. Their love and support for her meant the absolute world, and while it wouldn't take the pain of betrayal away, it lessened it by reminding her that, above all else, they all cared for her more than he ever would have…
Coffee in one hand, phone with the script in the other, Cynthia hardly paid attention as she walked through the studio. Nobody around her needed to know that it had taken seven hits of her snooze button to finally motivate herself to actually get out of bed that morning. They also didn't need to know it was all due to being absolutely on the edge of her own anxiety over seeing Diantha again after their conversation late Friday night that had ended with a kiss on the cheek. A kiss she had definitely been thinking way too much about.
Instead, she looked to project that she was just simply refreshing herself on whatever scene it was they were going to be filming for the day.
Over the weekend, Tom had called her, telling her something about the bar they were supposed to be filming in facing legal trouble. He had then told her to just come into the studio on Monday afternoon, and something about filming a back-alley scene until that was solved. However, he never specified which back-alley scene, so that left her with a few to look over.
"Has Tom tried getting ahold of Diantha?"
While the question wasn't directed at her, it was enough to distract her from reading over the script.
Tuning into everything around her, the studio seemed abuzz with an anxious energy. PA's were scrambling around, asking the same questions to each other.
Listening in, she heard the PA Kara say to Tom, "Complex says her Gardevoir won't let anyone come near her door, and…look, sir, I'm just not paid nearly enough to deal with that. Besides, my little Scorbunny is no match for her, anyways."
Instantly, Cynthia was on alert. Slipping her phone into her pocket, she approached Tom and Kara. "Can I ask what's going on?"
Kara sighed heavily while Tom rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke. "Diantha called in this morning to tell me she wasn't going to show, but when I tried to get an answer as to why, she wouldn't answer me. Now, she's not answering anyone." He grumbled. "Apparently, now her Gardevoir is going nuts and doing that Gardevoir thing where they act like they're about to create a black hole to keep everyone away."
While she knew Diantha had an affinity for the theatrics, this seemed overboard, even for her. "Want me to try to talk to her?" she offered. Hopefully she stood a chance at being able to get through.
Kara winced, shoving her glasses back up her face with a finger. "Her phone has been going straight to voicemail, so I doubt she'll even take a call."
Not knowing whether or not it was something she was technically supposed to know, she asked, "Where's she staying again?"
Tom looked at her. "It's a ritzy complex called The Meridian, uptown. Old art deco building. Hard to miss."
She nodded. "Let me try to talk to her. I can get past her Gardevoir." Hopefully without a battle, but she was confident she could put her out if push came to shove. The result wouldn't be the same as it had been at the World Tournament.
Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, but she knew he didn't have much of a choice. All the shoots they had left still involved her in one way or another, and the ones that didn't involved the other star, Coral Santos, who still wasn't available for another few days.
"I'll arrange some things. Maybe just take some stock city footage for now. Be back before three," he instructed.
She and Kara watched him leave.
Kara turned to Cynthia, pulling her phone from her back pocket. "I'll call The Meridian and let them know you're going to try next."
"Thank you, Kara," she said, turning away to leave the same way she came in.
Downing the last half of her coffee quick enough to just barely burn her tongue, it was tossed into an outside bin as she released Braviary.
They had flown there a few times by then, but never with as much urgency.
Landing on the front terrace, she gave a quick thank you to her pokémon as she jumped off her back, and was only halfway through recalling her when two of the building's staff greeted her.
"Madame Champion!" The taller of the two greeted.
Both were adorned in mute formalwear, black and gold pins with their names on their shirts. Adam and Vera.
"Please, right this way," Adam said as he and Vera opened the doors for her.
For a brief second, she took in the whole visage of the building during the daytime. It was the only time she had been there during the day, and it was interesting to her to see so many people milling about the lobby. Off to the side, the piano still sat, but was now roped off.
Vera kept by her side. "The manager wants to speak with you, if that's alright," she said, walking her to the front office.
"No problem," she said, keeping a casual air. She wasn't going to add to the stress of the situation. She was there to dissolve tensions, not to raise them.
An older man, maybe in his late fifties with hair so white it seemed unnatural, met her in the doorway. The name on his nametag was too small for her to read quickly. "Thank you, Vera," he said, dismissing her.
She left without a word, and he brought her into the office space.
"Madame Champion–" she was rarely ever called that in Sinnoh, but she was certainly starting to like it "–Thank you for taking time out of your day to…deal with this. Especially considering this isn't even your region."
She shrugged lightly. "It's no problem, really. We're already working on a project together, and there's no need to bother Iris about this," she tried to joke. It landed flat. He was strictly business.
"I would say I don't care how you calm down her Gardevoir, but unfortunately, I kind of do. She's begun to concern other tenants, and I can't have that. The next step after this is having law enforcement come and set up an anti-psychic barrier." He began talking with his hands. "Bad for my reputation, bad for her reputation, bad all around, you get me?" he asked.
She nodded.
"If I can ask, please, do not let this turn into a pokémon battle. There's not enough space in that hallway to battle an angry psychic pokémon, and I don't need the risk of anyone getting hurt. Is that clear?"
"Sure thing." That didn't mean she wouldn't keep that on the backburner. If push came to shove, and a battle was the only way to calm her down, she wouldn't back down so easily. She wouldn't let anyone's reputation take a hit like that. She was more than confident in her ability to keep a battle under wraps if need be.
He smiled, some tension seeming to fall from his shoulders. He pushed his glasses up his face. "Thank you very much, Madame Champion. I'll walk you to the elevator," he said, stepping out of the office with her.
He pressed the up button for her, waiting with her for the elevator to open. "You'll be on the thirty-second floor, and she's apartment 827. I trust you know this is highly confidential information."
For a split second, all she could think about was wanting to ask him how on earth did the apartment numbering system work, because 827 on the thirty-second floor made no sense in her mind. But that was beside the point.
"You have my word as a champion that I won't be sharing that with anyone. I like my privacy just as much as she does," she promised.
He nodded. "Good, because, to my knowledge, she rarely brings anyone to this apartment. This was supposed to be a safe space for her, like it is for many talents. I will be giving her my apologies afterwards, but I do believe this is the safest course for her reputation. The young woman I spoke with on the phone said you two are good friends, so I'm hoping she won't be too upset by this."
At least he seemed to care more than just about the reputation of his complex. There seemed to be some semblance of caring for Diantha's wellbeing as well, which she greatly appreciated.
The manager wished her luck as she stepped into the elevator, again quickly asking to not battle Gardevoir, and then the doors shut behind her. Just in time for her phone to start ringing. Glancing at the contact, she saw it was Mandy.
It had been a while since they last talked. Hopefully, it would be a quick enough conversation.
"Hey, Mandy, kinda busy," she greeted.
"Just wanted to do a quick check in, but if I need to call back, let me know."
She looked up at the panel that told her what floor she was passing. It was going slow enough, so she could likely manage a minute or two. "If I randomly hang up, don't get upset," she warned.
"Fair. How're things going? You gonna go full-time movie star, yet?"
She laughed. She had yet to fill in Mandy on how disgusting Alexander was turning out, and how much she was quickly disliking Tom. That was all a conversation that could wait until she got back to Sinnoh. "Hardly. I'm actually about to see what's up with Diantha. Apparently, she's not been taking anyone's call, and her Gardevoir won't let anyone near her apartment."
There was a laugh on her end. "Dang, she really is a drama queen, isn't she? What? She break a nail?"
Cynthia had also conveniently left out a lot of how close she had gotten with Diantha. She didn't need a scolding from her manager on why it was probably a bad idea. "I would laugh, but this is even a little extreme for her."
"Alright, I guess I'll leave you to it. If you end up doing something stupid and need me to find a way to spin it in a positive light, I guess I'll come to your rescue," she teased.
She didn't think there was much of a way to spin falling for her costar. "Thanks, Mandy. I'll talk to you later."
"Later, champ."
Hanging up, she returned her phone to her pocket, the elevator giving the smallest shake as it came to a full stop.
The second the doors opened, there was a pressure about the whole floor. It reminded her of when Gardevoir had been mad at Alexander in Diantha's dressing room, but this time was even more intense. With it filling the entire hallway, she felt bad for any other residents.
Figuring out which ways the numbers went, it wasn't hard for her to find the way to Diantha's door. Though, it could have been found just as easily by following the direction the pressure got worse.
At the end of the hallway, she took a right, and hovering before her was Gardevoir. She was high in the air, close to the ceiling, doing her best to appear as intimidating as possible as she narrowed her red eyes at Cynthia.
"Let me talk to Diantha, Gardevoir. Talking is all I want to do. I'm not going to force her to go anywhere or do anything else," she promised.
There was a harsh sound that passed the hum barrier. It was something far sharper, touching the very back of her mind.
Diantha had once described to her that communicating with Gardevoir as being something that, while lacking literal words, was something that came across as an obvious feeling.
She could have sworn she heard a broken and angry, " E" as Gardevoir moved to stand right in front of her, eyes glowing at the edges with a threat to use her psychic powers.
The mental pressure was starting to turn into a piercing headache. As much as it hurt, Cynthia knew she couldn't flinch. As with other high-pressure moments as of late, she reminded herself that she had looked into Giratina's eyes, a swirling red that had promised to take her life if she even dared flinch.
Gardevoir's eyes almost reminded her of exactly how she felt in that moment. She at least figured that Gardevoir would instead just teleport her away at worst.
"Gardevoir, please. I don't want to go against what I said to the manager." She pulled out a poké ball from her pocket, warmth seeping into her hand. "Garchomp and I will battle you if we have to." And this time they wouldn't lose.
Gardevoir didn't budge.
"After me, it's an anti-psychic barrier. You and I know Diantha can be dramatic, but that would be too much for even her," she reasoned.
As Gardevoir continued to stare down at her, the weight of her gaze was crushing. It was as if she was staring through her very soul, searching for a reason to make her leave.
Just as the headache was treading into migraine territory, with the hallway lighting and every tiny sound becoming unbearable, it stopped. The pressure vanished, and Gardevoir hovered down to her usual height.
With a nod, she teleported away.
Taking a deep breath, she held it for a moment to collect herself before letting it go. Heading to the door, before she could even knock, Gardevoir opened the door, her eyes glowing faintly from her psychic powers.
Walking with her inside, she kept closely with Gardevoir. The apartment was neat and orderly, with a very bright, but neutral color scheme. Mostly greys and white. Something that could probably be rented out easily when Diantha wasn't there.
Walking down the narrow hallway, Gardevoir stopped just outside a door, looking at Cynthia with a heavy stare one last time. With another nod, she teleported away, leaving Cynthia alone in the hallway.
With a soft knock on the fame, she poked her head in the room. "Hey, it's Cynthia."
The room was awash in a dim lighting from the curtains. Diantha lay atop her covers, a pillow in her arms as she stared at the wall. She didn't even move as she acknowledged her. "Gardevoir told me you were here."
Her voice was scratchy, an evident pain that hit home to Cynthia just how rough she looked overall.
She walked over to the bed, not sure if it was okay or not to sit down.
"What do you want, dear Cynthia?" she asked, unable to look at her. She was almost ashamed that she was even allowing her to see her like this. Hair a mess, and face still red and painful from crying most of the night, well into the current day.
The mattress below her moved a bit as Cynthia sat at the end. "Just wanted to see if everything's alright. Studio was in a panic when I got there since nobody could get ahold of you. I got really worried."
Pain rose in her chest, feeling guilty for worrying her over something that didn't matter like she thought it should.
She laughed weakly, keeping her eyes on the wall. "Oh, everything is fine, dear Cynthia. I just couldn't get my hair right, and decided to throw an absolute temper tantrum, that's all," she blatantly lied.
Cynthia leaned over on her arm, mindful of Diantha's legs. "Is that really all?" she asked.
Diantha wanted to continue lying. To keep avoiding and deflecting the conversation. She didn't want to explain what had happened, and why she was overreacting. She didn't want to risk judgement from Cynthia, because that would only be rubbing salt on the wound.
But she also didn't want to lie to her.
With a shake of her head, she just barely looked down at Cynthia. "I am…telling you this in confidence." A tremble reappeared in her voice, despite her best efforts to keep it even. "I'm– I guess not supposed to talk about it until it's convenient for him, or whatever…How it always was."
Cynthia adjusted herself, tentatively placing a hand on her leg.
"When I went up to Mistralton yesterday to leave Mel in person, I found out he had been cheating on me for the better half of our relationship. More than one person. The most recent a woman I know, and I walked in on them in his office."
While Cynthia hadn't liked him from the very beginning, it still hurt to hear. A searing shot of sympathy pain tore through her chest. "Diantha, I am so sorry."
Twice she had already been told that, but there was something about it being from Cynthia, she was at least a little receptive to it. At least enough to not want to yell her out of the room.
Cynthia moved closer as Diantha sat up, still mindful of her hand placements. She was still in a fragile state, and with a protective Gardevoir nearby, she wanted to make sure nothing was coming off inappropriately.
Diantha shook her head, pushing her hair away from her face. "The thing is…I've been dying to get out of this relationship for months now," she said. Carefully, she moved closer to rest her head on Cynthia's shoulder. The arm she in turn put around her was warm, and at least offered some semblance of safety. "I don't even know why I'm so upset. He's been an absolute nightmare! He would constantly accuse me of cheating, a-and wanted to know where I was at during any given moment. It was awful, Cynthia!"
Pulling her into a hug was all Cynthia could think to do. She hated that Diantha had put up with it all as long as she did. While she would never truly understand why she did, she knew it was beside the point. The human mind was a wild thing, and could convince a person to do just about anything, no matter how irrational. Truly, she couldn't find it within herself to blame her.
Diantha held onto her tightly, the sobbing beginning all over again. "It was like I was constantly walking on eggshells with him! I could never do anything right, and believe me! I tired! I tried so very hard to do everything right. I was always there for him. Whenever I was home in Kalos I tried to be with him. I scheduled so much around him. I was the model girlfriend, and what does he do? He goes and cheats on me…and then he has the audacity to try to blame me for it…" She could hardly keep the sobs from her voice. "Saying I'm the one who's always gone…"
Rubbing a hand along her back, she tried her best to just let her cry it out. There wasn't much she could say that would heal things any faster than time would. All she could do for now was be there for her, and offer her support in whichever way she needed. If it was a shoulder to cry on, she was more than willing to do that.
Above all else, above all other feelings that lurked under the surface, she was her friend, and she was going to be there for her.
After a while, the crying subsided again, and all she was left with was a hollow feeling in her chest, and the warmth of Cynthia's embrace. Carefully, she pulled herself away, sighing heavily as she wiped her tears. Her face felt raw and painful.
Cynthia reached up, delicately wiping away a tear with her thumb. "I want you to know that you didn't deserve any of it. Being away from each other is no excuse. No matter how much he tries to pin it on you, that was his decision, and his decision alone. He's not an animal. He has the ability to make rational decisions for himself."
She nodded, leaning into her hand. "I know that. I told myself that the entire night, and yet…" She sighed again. "It's odd being this relieved, all while also being in an equal amount of pain."
Cynthia nodded, moving her hand from her cheek down to her arm. "It might have been one thing had you just broken up with him because you two just weren't compatible anymore. Because you were going in different paths, or whatever. It might have even been one thing if he had just left you out of the blue two years ago like he should have at the very least, but…"
"But I found out he's been cheating on me for the last two years."
"Exactly," she responded. "I'm not going to sit here and pretend I know exactly how you're feeling. I've been cheated on too, though, and so I know it hurts, but…" she lost her train of thought completely. "I don't know where I'm going with this, sorry," she apologized.
She shook her head lightly. "Don't worry, dear Cynthia. I'm sorry it happened to you."
She shrugged. "It was a long time ago, so don't even worry about it. Right now, what do you need?"
She thought it over for a moment, but in that time, all she could come up with was her desire to change clothes and get out of her stuffy room. "I'm going to change. Would you come sit with me in the living room? I'm tired of being cooped up in here," she said.
With a nod, Cynthia stood, keeping a hold of one of Diantha's hands, helping her stand.
On her feet, she began to feel lightheaded. She desperately needed to rehydrate after crying so much, and she definitely needed to eat as well. Putting a hand on her forehead, she held onto Cynthia with the other, trying to just breathe through the headrush she was experiencing.
"I'll go get you some water, you get changed." They still had until three when Tom told her to be back. Plenty of time to collect themselves.
She nodded, starting to let go of her to step away to her closet for a change of clothes. However, just as her hand was about to leave her arm completely, she stopped herself.
Maybe it was a stupid decision given the timing of everything, but it was finally one she wasn't going to feel any guilt over. Giving in to her own selfish desire, she stood up on her toes, still having to pull Cynthia down so she could kiss her cheek.
"I hope you know how wonderful you are, my dear Cynthia."
When she said it, she couldn't think of a single reason to not believe her. "I'm here for you, in any way you need." Or want. But she wasn't going to rush things. She wasn't going to let one more cheek kiss go directly to her head.
Walking out of the room, she easily found her way to the kitchen. Gardevoir still stood by, over by the windows, but was far calmer than she had been when Cynthia arrived. It was a welcome sight.
Before heading into the kitchen, she made a quick side trip to the door to take her shoes off. She had a feeling it would be a while before they left, if they even did. She intended on keeping her word that she wouldn't force Diantha to do anything.
Heading back, she stood in front of the sink, looking at all the cabinets around her, wondering which one held glasses. Before she could take a guess, one of them opened on its own.
A small hum let her know Gardevoir had done it.
"Thank you, Gardevoir," she said, quickly shooting a nod at the pokémon.
She returned the gesture.
While filling up a glass from the filtered tap, warmth radiated from her pocket. Pulling out the poké ball in question, she realized it was Garchomp's. It brought a small smile to her face. Likely, Garchomp wanted to be able to make sure Diantha was okay, too.
"Wait a few minutes, okay?" she said, putting her ball away. She wanted to make sure it was okay with Diantha to release her since she was a larger pokémon.
Glass filled, she was about to move to the living room when her phone started to ring. She was a second away from declining the call when she saw it was Tom. Setting the glass down on the bar countertop, she slid to answer. "Hey, Tom."
"How's things going?" he asked, a little too directly for her liking.
She hummed. "I've gotten Gardevoir to calm down, so it's a start." She wasn't about to let him know all of the details. He didn't need or deserve them.
"So, good news for the drama queen, bad news for everyone else: it's supposed to storm the rest of the day, and I legally can't have you all out in a storm. So, today's pretty much cancelled. I'll send out some texts later when I get a better sense of what we're doing tomorrow."
"Alright, I'll let her know."
He hung up on her without another word, which was probably for the best. She found herself absolutely hating the way he continued to call her a drama queen. He always said it in such a way that sounded far worse than the simple phrase really was.
"Let me know what?"
Cynthia turned to look at her, putting her phone back into her pocket. She had changed into a heavy white sweatshirt, some sleeping shorts, and had brushed her hair. It was a very comfortable look, and solidified the idea that they probably weren't going anywhere the rest of the day. At least, Diantha wasn't. Cynthia would leave if she asked her to.
"Filming has been cancelled for today. Something about storms," she answered, walking around the bar to meet her in the living room. Handing her the glass of water, they both sat down on the couch.
"Oh, thank gods," she said under her breath before taking a drink. It wasn't until the water hit her lips that she realized how parched she was.
Leaning back on the arm, Cynthia kept a neutral distance between them. "So, let me ask: Do you want me to stay, or would you prefer I leave?" she asked.
Diantha met her eyes, torn between answering honestly, and not wanting to bother her any more than she alright thought she had. "I don't want to force you to stay," she said, hoping it was open-ended enough.
"You're not forcing me. I'm offering," she said.
She couldn't find a reason to lie at that. "Then I would greatly enjoy your company," she admitted.
With a smile, Cynthia leaned forward to take her phone out of her back pocket. "I'll stay as long as you'll have me," she said, placing the device face down on the coffee table.
"I guess you're going to be here awhile then, my dear Cynthia."
She had the thought the last time they were together, and she would probably continue to have it every time it was said. But 'my dear Cynthia' was something she could get very used to hearing.
Before she could lean back, she remembered Garchomp. "Before I forget, I think Garchomp wants to see you. Is it okay if I let her out?"
"Go right ahead," she answered, more surprised to hear it. She hadn't realized Cynthia's pokémon felt anything towards her.
Standing up, Cynthia moved to a spot where Garchomp could be released without knocking into anything. "Please be careful. I don't want you breaking something," she said right before releasing her.
She stretched upon being released, but it was far more reserved than normal. Taking a quick survey of her surroundings, the second her eyes landed on Diantha, she made a small chuff noise, carefully making her way over to her.
"Hello, darling," Diantha said, offering a hand out to her. It absolutely charmed her the way she carried herself to carefully as to not disturb anything in the space. With her being such a large pokémon, it took a practiced patience.
Garchomp leaned down, putting her snout in her hand, before pushing harder to get closer.
It got a laugh from Diantha as she placed her glass down on the table. "I didn't realize you could be so affectionate," she said, laughing again as Garchomp rubbed her face against hers.
Cynthia had moved to stand behind the couch, leaning over the back. "When she wants to be."
Diantha looked up at her. "Much like how you can be a hopeless romantic when you want to be?"
She smiled, brushing her bangs away from her face. "Professor Rowan believes that trainers and their pokémon are more alike that we realize. I was worried about you when I was told nobody could get ahold of you, and when I saw how serious Gardevoir was about keeping people away? It…yeah. I was worried. So was she."
Diantha glanced over at her pokémon, who was trying to appear like she wasn't paying any attention but failing to do so. "My apologies. It seems Gardevoir took me very seriously when I told her to keep everyone away because I didn't want to look at a single person all day."
Cynthia looked over at the psychic pokémon, who had returned to looking outside. "Why did she let me in, then?"
Diantha shrugged, resuming her petting of Garchomp. "Like you said, maybe she's more like me than I'm giving her credit for. Or maybe she just knew I would be receptive to you."
"I think she stared into my soul," Cynthia joked, standing up so she could go back to sitting on the couch.
Diantha nodded, a hand still on Garchomp as the pokémon began to walk away, falling off at her haunches. "She was probably reading your intentions. If you had intended me any harm, or anything she thought I wouldn't like, she probably wouldn't have let you in."
As always, psychic pokémon amazed Cynthia. Though, it could have done without the migraine.
Sitting next to Diantha once more, she told Garchomp to go lay down somewhere. The dragon chose a spot by the window, not far off from Gardevoir. With a few quick circles, she laid down with a heavy, yet content sigh.
In a quick decision, Diantha leaned over, throwing an arm around Cynthia and resting her head on her shoulder. With a quick adjustment, Cynthia had an arm around her.
"When did you start working for Professor Rowan?" Diantha asked, wanting a distraction of some sort. Though, being in Cynthia's arms might have already been enough of one.
She thought on it for a second, having to remind herself exactly how old she was. "I was…about fourteen when my grandmother helped me get an internship with him. I spent around four years doing field work for him, but then at eighteen I became the champion. Now I just do research in conjunction with him. Usually, I just send him a proposal of what it is I want to research, and if he likes it, he'll put together the funding I need for it. I tend to stick to things related to archaeology."
She nodded. "A friend of mine, Augustine, studied under Professor Rowan for a few years," she commented. A quick laugh from Cynthia caught her attention.
"Wouldn't happen to be Augustine Sycamore, would he?"
She again nodded. "Our regional pokémon professor. Did you two ever work together?" When she thought on it, the mental math might have worked out.
"We did a few field assignments together before I became champion. I was usually sent with him because I was good at pokémon battles and he…" Well, she didn't want to talk badly about Diantha's friend.
"He's bad at them," she said, amused. "Don't worry, darling. It's a fact we all know." She loved her friend dearly, but there wasn't any use hiding the fact. Competitive battling was never something he was into to begin with, anyways.
"We battled once. It was right after Garchomp evolved from Gabite, and she wanted to take on his Garchomp." She looked over to her pokémon. "We beat him in what…three moves?"
Garchomp made an agreeing grumble, to which Diantha laughed.
"His Garchomp probably could have defended him, but I'm glad we went. It was one of my first times going to Iron Island."
She wasn't too familiar with Sinnoh's geography. "What's on Iron Island?" Apart from well, iron.
"Currently: an abandoned iron ore mine, that's owned by one of my gym leaders, Byron. But in the past, it was a ceremonial ground for one of Sinnoh's ancient empires. Their central deity was a god that somewhat resembled modern day mega-evolved Lucario, and so Augustine wanted to see if any of their ruins gave any indication of mega evolution being present in Sinnoh…"
Somewhere in the middle of her explanation, Diantha pulled herself away from Cynthia, thoroughly content to watch how she then began to talk with her hands. A few times during it all, Diantha had to assure her that she wasn't bored, and that she was enjoying simply listening to her.
Eventually, they ended up ordering food in when Diantha's stomach began to audibly growl. By the time they had finished lunch, the storm began to roll in. It started as a light rain, quickly turning into a deluge.
Lightning and thunder filled the sky, giving them a display that was a show in of itself. The display was so prominent, it reminded Cynthia of Unovan myths of a pokémon called Thundurus. Diantha was more than happy to listen as she explained the mythos behind the pokémon, and the others like it.
It was all a bit of a bittersweet feeling to Diantha. Sure, the past twenty-four hours had been about as bad as they possibly could have, but in the moment, she realized there was nowhere she would rather be than in the arms of her friend, listening to her passionately talk about Unovan mythology. Surly nowhere else in the world would have felt as warm and safe as she currently did there.
She didn't mean to, but the combined sound of the rain against the windowpane with Cynthia's soothing voice, and one hand lightly playing with her hair, all brought her into the deep sleep she sorely needed.
– – – –
PAN IN
STAIRWAY LEADING UNDERGROUND – MORNING
Rain pours outside, trickling down into the stairway that's coated in a black grime from the dirty city. Elizabeth keeps Scarlet close, stopping them once they're inside the building.
ELIZABETH
You need to stay close to me. Don't look at anyone, or speak to anyone until we get to Vicki.
SCARLET
Can't say I'm used to taking orders, but fine.
They continue their way through the building, working their way down through the lower levels of the city. They pass people now and then, and Scarlet does her best to keep her word and not focus on anyone other than Elizabeth.
At the end of a long hallway, Elizabeth brings them to a stop, collecting herself for just a moment, before opening the door in front of them.
Inside sits a woman with her legs propped up on her wooden desk. VICKI PARK. Tall, brunette, slender face, brown skin, late 20's. She's well dressed and exudes a presence that tells everyone around her she's the local mob boss.
Vicki smiles at the two as they step into her office, bringing her feet down from her desk so she can stand.
VICKI
Liz! Took you long enough to get out here. Been wondering what kept you so long.
She walks towards them, making circles around them, letting it be known she has a special interest in Scarlet. She stops her circling in front of Elizabeth, but keeps her eyes on Scarlet.
VICKI
Having a little too much fun out in the desert, huh? Find yourself a little lady friend? Keeping you busy?
Elizabeth puts a protective hand on Scarlet's waist, pulling her close.
ELIZABETH
Leave her out of this. What do you need?
Vicki backs away from the two, leaning back against her desk. She gives Scarlet a noticeable look-over.
VICKI
(flippantly)
Just need you to go shake someone up a little bit for me. A vendor up on Malone and 5th. He's been skipping out on some of his payments, and while I would send Darmanitan to do it for me, he's a little busy with Jackdaw and his knuckleheads. Let him know he's got one last week to pay up, or he loses everything.
Elizabeth nods, taking her hand off Scarlet.
ELIZABETH
Consider it taken care of.
VICKI
You're the best, Liz!
They're about to leave, but Vicki stops them.
VICKI
(CONT'D)
Oh, and by the way: really like this one. She's gorgeous, and I can tell she's got blood on her hands. You should keep bringing her around.
Scarlet turns to face her, speaking before Elizabeth can tell her not to.
SCARLET
Now, how would you know that?
Vicki walks up to her, leaning down in her face. Elizabeth reaches like she's going to push her away, but stops herself at the last second.
VICKI
'Cause you're not shaking like that last Lillipup of a girl she brought to stand in front of me. Can see it in your eyes that you'd like to take a shot at me– Which I like in a woman.
Scarlet is about to bite back with some quip, but Elizabeth starts pulling her along.
ELIZABETH
Let's go, Scarlet.
VICKI
If she ever doesn't do it for you, you know where to find me, doll.
TRANSITION TO:
EXT. BACK ALLEYWAY. DAYTIME.
Elizabeth all but runs them out of the building, not letting Scarlet go until they're back on the surface of the city. The rain lightens up as she walks them around the block, back to her car. Though upset, Elizabeth still makes sure to open the car door for Scarlet.
Inside the car, a heavy silence sits over them, Scarlet the first to break it.
SCARLET
So, remind me how she's related to you.
ELIZABETH
She's technically my father's cousin, but that uncle is the youngest of seven, making her closer to my age. We grew up together.
SCARLET
And when she said Darmanitan, I'm assuming she wasn't talking about the actual pokémon?
ELIZABETH
No. Darmanitan is a big, burly enforcer of hers. Don't call him Darmanitan to his face, though. His name is Beau.
SCARLET
(amused)
So, do you have a nickname I should know about?
ELIZABETH
I do, but I'm not telling you.
Scarlet leans over the console, a grin on her painted lips.
SCARLET
Is it embarrassing? Does she call you Wurmple?
It gets a genuine laugh out of Elizabeth.
ELIZABETH
Not even close.
SCARLET
Skitty? Or do you have a name like the ones I've read in the paper, like Slim, or Twitchy?
She laughs at her own jokes, and Elizabeth is just amused at this point.
SCARLET
(CONT'D)
Or are you called something ironic like Tiny or Shorty?
ELIZABETH
Lopunny, okay? I'm called Lopunny Liz. Vicki likes to stick with pokémon names. It's dumb and I hate it, and if anyone ever dares to call me that to my face, they're dead.
It catches Scarlet by surprise. She leans back from the console.
SCARLET
Why Lopunny?
ELIZABETH
I'm tall, pretty, and pack a punch nobody expects me to.
Scarlet laughs whole-heartedly, as Elizabeth finally starts the car.
ELIZABETH
(CONT'D)
You're not gonna let me live that down, are you?
SCARLET
What are you going to do if I don't, Lopunny? Punish me?
ELIZABETH
Look, I'm just glad you didn't start a fight with Vicki like I thought you were about to.
SCARLET
You know…I know Vicki was blatantly flirting with me, however, I wasn't mad about that, exactly. I didn't like her thinking I was yours. I wanted her to know that you are mine.
ELIZABETH
(glancing over at her)
Dangerous thing to want to prove to a mob boss, babe. Could stand to prove it to me one of these days, though.
FADE OUT
– – – –
Content Warning for the next chapter:
-Alcohol
