Interlude Thirteen: Doing it for Themselves

"It is very rare we receive guests, especially ones held in such high regard throughout the world. Though I must say, you always seem to flock to us in times like this. So tell me, children, just how is the world ending this time?"

Clair smirked to herself, taking malicious pride in watching the pair opposite her squirm. She had been expecting a visit for some weeks now, and had been rather insulted when Daisy Oak and Trevor Archer arrived: considering the gravity of the matter there were here for, Clair would have thought someone more senior would come to try and court her help. She was annoyed, and hoped the pair reported her hostile welcome back to Oak and them, a solid reminder for future reference.

"I am sorry you feel used; it is not the fault of the International Police that all this has happened over the past few years." Trevor spoke with power and finesse, but Clair merely raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea, refusing to give them the upper hand. "However, as one of the most powerful organisations in the world, we need to know you will stand against any threats posed to the region."

Silence filled the room. Clair merely sat there, sipping her tea, exchanging glances with her attendants by the door. Let them wait, she thought, smirking behind her cup. The two screamed of outsiders: Trevor in a black coat and trousers, Daisy in a demure blue dress with matching blazer, nothing like the uniformed robes of everyone else in the Den. The two looked so wrong sitting there, atop her silk cushions, drinking her tea in her cups: Clair was pleased to make them suffer in any way she could, punish them for visiting her, treating her like some beast they needed to rein in.

"Of course we will; we did four years ago, when Rocket tried again to end the world from within the heart of this region."

"You didn't stand alongside my brother and cousin though," Daisy replied so quickly you could tell that line had been waiting there, resting on her tongue to be pulled out. "They fought the true might of Team Rocket without your assistance."

"That conflict was in Kanto," Clair hissed back icily, "as is this one. We may share a border, but Kanto and Johto are not one country anymore. And now that we no longer serve under the same league, I have even less of an obligation to fight your battles for you." Trevor and Daisy exchanged glances, having clearly expected this reaction. Clair merely smiled: she was not going to be easy, to let this first test as Elder go by so smoothly for them. She did not even meet their eye, instead gazing at the tapestry that adorned the walls, the hand-stitched dragons that were amongst her first memories.

"This is not about your role as a gym leader; this about your position as the Dragon Elder," Trevor said, his voice rising with each word. "This is your first test with this title, so you think about how you want your grandfather's legacy to be perceived before you –"

"HOW DARE YOU!" Clair roared, and silence fell across the room. Her words echoed back to her, and Clair paused, breathing deeply. She hadn't even noticed standing up, but realised she was on her feet, her cup upside down, emerald liquid seeping into the rug.

"I'm sorry for shouting," she whispered. However, she didn't care for them: the windows had been opened for air, and now Clair stared at them, wondering if her voice had reached the houses on the surrounding cliffs. This may be her first test with the powers of Kanto, but Clair was really being tested every single day.

Leading a gym was one thing, but running a community was an entirely different matter: whispers reached her, whispers that had started in the houses of her people, and what she heard was not reassuring. Shouting at guests would only fuel the fires of doubt Clair knew would soon be burning all throughout the den.

"We haven't come here to upset you," Daisy said after a while. "We know this is a difficult time for you… moving on from death is always hard. But things will only get harder for all of us should Buzz Bolton or Gideon achieve whatever it is they are trying to achieve. We need to know that there will be support out there should either one of them strike at the pillars of our country."

Clair sat back down as Daisy spoke, and as she righted her cup and dabbed at the stain, she dwelled on her words. As much as she enjoyed sassing her envoys, Clair knew there was a real issue at hand. She didn't follow politics or movements in Kanto as much as she used to, but she and Lance still spoke daily, and she at least knew all the gossip: Red's life had been threatened, a girl was being used as a pawn to stop those after him, and no one had any idea what to do next.

My grandfather would have, Clair thought sadly. It had been over a month since he had died; he had been getting old, she should have expected it sooner or later. Yet not a day went past when she didn't think of him, of all he had done not just from the community but for her. She wouldn't be a gym leader without his training, without him guiding her through the rough years. If he was here now, he would know how to help with the problems in Kanto while still respecting the wishes of their people.

"What exactly do you expect from the Dragon's Den should Red be attacked or killed?"

"We will need people to stand alongside us: the Indigo League, the International Police, all the people that work in the shadows to keep Kanto in order. If you come to our side, the rest of the Johto League will fall behind you as well as the help of your people. We don't expect you to sacrifice yourselves, but – "

"Isn't that what you ask of someone when they sign up to war: to put their life on the line in defence of their country?" Clair interrupted, holding up a hand to silence Trevor. "I cannot simply sign up the two hundred people who live under my rule and demand they fight in your war."

"But we don't know what our enemies are planning," Daisy said pleadingly. "We know Red's life is threatened, but we don't know how either enemy plans to stop him. They could just as easily kill him, destroying the entire Indigo League headquarters and turn their attention towards Krystal – I mean, Johto and –"

"Okay, you almost had one percent of my attention, but I am not doing anything to help that little bitch," Clair snapped. Daisy looked ashamed, and rightfully so: no name was more toxic in the Dragon's Den then Krystal Soul, and Clair would not aid any quest in which she was involved.

"She isn't the one who cheated Lance," Trevor groaned.

"No, but she should have stepped aside when the truth was revealed instead of forcing him into a rematch. And she would have lost if it wasn't for Latios – Kris Soul won by barely defeating a cheat and then using a Legendary to prevent her meek, feeble team from losing her the title. I would gladly let all of Kanto burn if it means that she suffers the consequences as well!"

"This is pointless – I am not going to sit her and let some stubborn cow screw over the world for a few petty rivalries!" Trevor stood up and angrily jabbed a finger at Clair. "Kris won because Lance is more popular than he is talented, and he should have been disqualified for the tricks he used during that battle. And the fact the Dragon's Den still holds a grudge against the Kantonese over something that happened hundreds of years ago shows what useless allies you would make. I am from the fucking Sevii Islands – we got screwed over a hell of a lot worse than Johto ever did, but we've all moved past it. You can't let one generation suffer because of the actions of their ancestors."

"Oh, well done Mr Archer, you've let your true colours shine!" Clair yelled, getting to her feet the same time as Daisy, watching as her attendants swung open the doors Dragonite had nearly torn off. "Tell Oak that next time his country is burning to the ground, sending a bigoted, uninformed racist isn't the best way to win someone over!"

"There won't be a next time: the Dragon's Den died with your grandfather!" Trevor hissed, anger burning on his face as Daisy tugged on his sleeve. "Your people have been going extinct for decades, and your refusal to adapt to the times means you will only die out faster. You have nothing to offer us asides from influence, and once people hear about how Clair Grayson is running this place into the ground, all that will disappear!"

"Really, no influence?" Clair snapped. "You seem to be forgetting that your saviour is nothing without something I possess!" Trevor and Daisy both froze in the doorway, and Clair mentally smiled, the shock on their faces clear she had won. Moving gracefully over the cushions, Clair walked over to a particular Dragonite stitched into the walls. Why she had been worried when she had this trump card she did not know, but being handed the opportunity to use it filled her with unsubstantiated glee.

"After we gave the other Enigma Crystal to Kris, Steven Stone gave us the other one to look after in its place. Unfortunately, Latios broke free from it and set off in look for his true trainer. Fortunately, he left this behind." A panel in the wall swung open, and Clair heaved out a wooden box, briefly examining the intricate carvings across the surface before turning to face Trevor and Daisy. The two exchanged stunned looks, and Clair smiled widely as she opened it up.

"Alaska Avocado needs this if she is ever going to control Latios. As Dragon Elder, I am the one who decides what to do with it, and after what you just said, I am leaning towards making sure this never sees the light of day again. So maybe you could start by apologising, and then I will consider what to do next, okay?" Trevor and Daisy looked into the box for a moment before looking back at Clair: their faces were still for a moment, but then Daisy giggled and Trevor stifled a snort.

"She needs what, Clair?" The spy asked, and the two turned and walked laughing out of the room. Clair was speechless; she turned the box around and stared inside, and felt her stomach, heart, lungs, every organ in her body dropped an inch as she looked inside an empty box.

"Where is it?" She growled. Throwing the box against the wall, Clair faced her attendants as Trevor and Daisy made their joy audible, their joy echoing like a hundred people were around her, all laughing, all jeering. "WHERE IS THE FUCKING CRYSTAL?"


"Dive low and use Aerial Ace!"

Really? That's the move you're going for? Oh well, this was fun while it lasted.

"Grass Knot, go!"

"What on earth is the Champion thinking? Such a move is going to have barely any effect on a Flying type like Honchkrow!"

The commentator's words echoed throughout the stadium. The few times Kris had watched Red battle, you could barely hear what anyone was saying over the roar of the crowd, the endless cries from the hundreds of supporters packed inside the cramped stadium and filling the boardwalk outside deafening against even the loudest commentary.

She had never experienced that herself, not since Lance. Today, barely a hundred people had shown up to watch her latest challenge. While she waited for her strategy to play out, Kris cast her gaze across the rows and rows of empty seats: only her most loyal of supporters and friends of her opponent had turned up for the battle, barely enough tickets to cover the electricity bill.

"HONCH!" The squawk reached her ears easily as well, and Kris snapped back to attention. Johnny's Honchkrow lay sprawled across the grass, clumps of mud piled around from where she had fallen. He had fallen into the trap so easily Kris had to wonder how he had managed to make it through the Elite Four so easily.

"Signal Beam, finish this!" She bellowed, disturbed by the eeriness of her echo. Espeon dug her feet into the pitch and fired, rainbow energy hitting Honchkrow square on the head, blasting her back towards the pool. She stopped just shy of falling in, but the close range attack was clearly too much: wings limp, eyes shut; the battle was already over.

"Matthew the Honchkrow is unable to battle, meaning the challenger Johnny Richards has no Pokémon left to fight. The winner is the Champion, Krystal Soul!"

Applause and cheers rang out through the stadium, but it seemed sarcastic the way they clapped and shouted. Of course its sarcasm, Kris thought bitterly, withdrawing a barely tired Espeon, no one's going to celebrate that win. That lasted, what, half an hour? She looked across the expansive pitch towards the challenger. Johnny was older than her, about twenty one, she recalled, a fine layer of blonde stubble covering his rigid jaw. He had seemed handsome when they had met before the match, but now he was a blubbing mess, his massive frame collapsed next to the pitch, chest raising and falling rapidly with his tears.

What's the point in crying, you clearly weren't prepared. Your Dugtrio may have trapped Ampharos, and if I had paid more attention Kingdra would have survived longer, but Latias would have torn through your entire team in five minutes. You couldn't even defeat a Psychic type with a Dark Pokémon. You just wasted your time, my time, the time of everyone working here, anyone watching, anyone even hearing about this…

"That was a great effort!"

The stadium emptied within five minutes. Cleaners were already clearing away rubbish, a job that took hours after her and Lance but today would last barely quarter of an hour. Kris had left the pitch quickly, unable to bear the emptiness anymore, and moved into the maze-like upper level where all the private boxes and preparation rooms were. All except the one owned by the League were empty: murmurs of the Elite Four and league officials could be heard as she walked past, but Kris ignored them as she made her way to Johnny.

The trainer smiled as she passed on the praise, though his eyes were bloodshot and watery. His parents stood quietly behind him as Kris shook his hand and smiled warmly at them all, playing her role dutifully.

"Are you going to take part in the League Championships next year?"

"I hope so. I have a lot of work to do between now and then, but I would love the opportunity to battle you again!" Johnny replied, cracking a smile.

"I can't wait!" Kris replied with her own beam, though it was a struggle not to roll her eyes. Everyone thinks they've got what it takes, but if your Honchkrow can't even stand up to Grass and Bug type moves, then you've got no hope in hell of surviving the shit this job will throw at you.

She waved the trainer and his family off, waiting till they had rounded the corner before letting her smile fade. Tired and exasperated, Kris turned to leave, desperate to return to her house where she was actually needed. But as she turned, movement on the pitch caught her eye and she paused. The field was sinking back into the basement, where it would be tidied and repaired before her next challenge. But asides from damaged rocks and disturbed grass, there was nothing to fix…

Not like her two big fights here. Kris froze, staring down at the sinking field; her mind went back three years before she could stop herself. She thought the match with Gold had done some serious harm, but the way Lance fought… she could still remember watching in awe as the entire pitch burnt; the grass, the rocks, the water, everything on fire, everything in ruins. The crowd certainly had been quiet then. You could have heard a pin drop, people told Kris afterwards. She wished she could remember that, but all she could remember of those final ten minutes against Dragonite was pain; pain and fire…


"You fought well tonight, miss." The nurse wore a bright smile to match her lemon coloured uniform; it was very natural and real, yet when Kris reciprocated, she saw the smile turn false, suddenly an act. Kris was familiar with this by now and merely kept her own smile forced in place: so many people had been nice to her over the years, but it was hard for them to stay happy when Kris oozed darkness from every pore.

"How is everyone going?" Kris asked, moving past the awkwardness as she passed her PokeBalls over.

"Very fine miss, you'll be happy with their progress," the nurse replied quickly, trying less successfully to ignore Kris' mood. "I could call them over for you if you –"

"No, thank you, I need to sleep – it may have been a short one, but every battle is tiring."

"Of course miss." The nurse kept smiling till the last second, but as she turned away, taking the PokeBalls with her, Kris knew she would be shaken, left wondering what was wrong with the Champion to appear so hate filled even after winning.

Let her wonder, Kris thought, sighing to herself, and she began her way down the corridor. Her footsteps echoed with each step, making it sound like there were dozens of people when really it was only her, alone yet again.

She walked past a glass window. Bangs and shouts sounded from behind it. Kris kept walking. The cries got louder, as though they knew she was out there, sensing her through the one-way window. Shaking, Kris kept walking, thinking of home, her bed, sleeping, darkness, anything but…

"MEGA!"

She paused. Whimpering, she turned.

They were all there: the ones who had survived, the replacements she had been forced to accept. Kris watched as Pangoro took a swing at Miltank, the Milk Cow Pokémon dodging and lashing out with her own glowing fist. Mawile and Ampharos fought alongside, electricity and metallic flashes being exchanged, most colliding in the middle. Avalugg reared past the window, blocking the view as his giant frame scraped the wall, ice flecks rubbing off. He fired an attack, and a burst of green blocked it. Avalugg stumbled, and Kris knew who would be standing on the other side. With the echo of a bygone scream firmly in her mind, she turned and walked away.


Champion's Park was empty. Kris walked through the abandoned complex with only the hum of the lights for company. She could remember her first battle here, when the pavements had been overflowing with people cheering and screaming her name. It took hours for the crowds to thin, leaving behind a layer of rubbish that took days to clean up, a reminder of how many people had come to watch her victory.

The meagre crowd that had turned up today hadn't stayed. The stalls selling food and merchandise were already closed; Kris knew the apartments available for rent would be empty. Her footsteps echoed as she walked by the four smaller stadiums and the dozens of battlefields scattered in between, feeling like a ghost moving through an abandoned, oversized playground. There was no breeze to keep her company, no rain or thunder or snow: the skies were cloudless, yet the moon seemed to shine dimly down on her, as though even it couldn't be bothered staying.

It was a long walk back to her apartment. Kris knew a cart would be waiting to escort her home, but it would only take a few minutes, and she wanted to clear her head. Everything that had happened over the past hour, she needed time to let it leave her system.

Though really you have been trying for years to move on, and yet here we are, still letting the past follow us around. Kris looked around as she walked, wondering if anyone would notice if she screamed. There didn't seem to be anyone physically there, but as she turned Kris noticed a blinking light over one of the stadium entrances.

Oh, of course, I am never actually alone, am I? Kris thought, watching as the security camera rotate as it scanned the empty park for any threats. I could always scream for them, letting them know how I really feel. Fuel the fires for you, give you more reason to think I'm just a crazy, unstable little girl… The moment of defiance passed. Kris could not be bothered playing up for their benefit, and she skulked up the path, pounding her way up to her house.

Maybe if they had all been through what I had, they would know why I was how I am, Kris thought. They may have watched the battle, and they probably know what happened on Mt Coronet, but they weren't there, were they… they didn't have to lead a faction into war four months after their mother died, did they? If she shut her eyes long enough, Kris always ended up back there: knees in the snow, blood creeping down her face, Enigma Stone in one hand, Latias' hand in the other, both of them screaming as they tried to save the world. She could still hear the clash of swords as Vanessa and Draco fought metres from her, the former's dress drenched in so much blood Kris couldn't even remember the colour.

She could explain all that to the League Officials, but they wouldn't care: it would be the final straw, the opportunity to take her out of action – PTSD, she could see that being the excuse. Lance would be brought back in, they'd throw a tournament to decide, he would win no matter what.

And Kris would go – where? New Bark Town, the place her mother was buried, the home she shared with Gold? Ecruteak, to go watch Hanoko slowly die? Travel, try her hand at another league?

Oh yeah, cause this one worked soooo well. Kris paused and turned, staring down at the stadium below. This had been her dream, to win this title, to be able to call that giant oval hers. Yet here she was, bored by battles, dreading seeing her own Pokémon, haunted by her past at every turn. How I wish I could just leave, pack up and go… but I can't, not now, not with everything that is about to happen…

"Are you going to keep looking into space, or do you want to head inside?"

Kris spun: for a moment, fear coursed through her, but then the speaker stepped forwards, revealing his purple jacket, jet black hair, those eyes she could never forget. Spike beamed his crooked smile, and Kris' face lit up as she ran forwards. The two embraced, and Kris planted her lips on his, kissing him so vigorously she could have left bruises.

"I'm glad you're happy to see me."

"I'm glad you are as well," Kris said smirking, her hips pressed against his groin. "I had no idea you were coming, why didn't you – "

"I had to be on the down-lo after what you requested. If anyone knew I was coming… I can't leave a trail, not after what I did." Kris stepped backwards, her joy quickly turning to intrigue. Spike's smile sank, the moment of happiness gone, and he reached into a pocket in his jacket.

"No, not here," Kris hissed, looking around. "Inside, now." She grabbed his arm, forcing another smile for whoever was watching, and the two briskly walked the last few metres into her house.

The door banged open. Kris cast her eyes around the entrance hall, but there was no one there. Relieved, she turned and cast her eyes over her boyfriend: Spike had gotten tall over the past year, now standing a firm head above her; his jet black hair clashed horribly with the purple leather of his coat, yet his muscular frame pulled it off. She wondered what was missing, and realised it was the staff he use to carry with him everywhere. It was strange to see him without it, but that only confirmed Kris' fears.

"You didn't have to steal it, you know. I am sure Clair would have been more than happy to help me." Despite his sombre face, Spike snorted as soon as she spoke, and Kris had to giggle at her own error. "I mean, you know, help the region."

"You're still involved, and she won't help you for all the good it would do," Spike replied. "She won the Elder title basically by default, but now she is struggling to prove she actually deserves it. There will be a mutiny soon enough if she doesn't live up to her grandfather's reputation, and helping you in any way would massively damage that."

"Well, we all know what it's like to live in someone else's reputation," Kris mumbled bitterly. Spike's smile fade, and an awkward silence formed between the two. Kris sighed: with everything that had happened, and everything that would happen, it was easy to forget the awkwardness of her situation. She opened her mouth to apologise, but Spike shook his head, sapphire eyes bearing down on her.

"Forget about it," he said as he reached inside his pockets. "I did this because it needs to be done. Forget about Clair and all of them: he needs this… you need it." His hand emerged, revealing the sparkling rock for which he had forsaken all his vows for. Faint whispers erupted in her head as Kris stared at the Enigma Stone: the surface was cracked, but otherwise it was nearly identical to hers. She felt relief to have it after all these weeks, but at the same moment she felt dread, knowing what had to be done.

"Put it on the table and step outside," she said, stepping towards a painting of the Tohjo Falls hanging on the wall opposite.

"Step outside? Why?"

"Because this is going to get messy." The painting swung open at her touch, revealing a small safe behind. Kris typed the pin in and turned the bar-like handle: it was empty except for a crystal, glittering in the light. Kris paused, wondering if she was ready for all this, ready to embark on this next step in her journey. Then she remembered her Pokémon, watching them battle, everything they had gone through: what would their sacrifices amount to if she gave up here?

Flashes from her past danced before her eyes the second Kris touched the crystal. The memories hurt, but she clenched her teeth and turned, slamming the safe closed and pushing the painting back. The whispers were getting louder, but a sole voice sounded over them: you can do this, Kris: he needs your help, only you can do this.

"Kris, I really think I should be here – what if something goes wrong?" Spike said pleadingly. "Do you remember how much it hurt when he arrived, how painful it was to have both of them inside your head: the two Crystals together will only make it worse."

"I know." Kris looked at him for a moment, pained by the hurt in his eyes. Yet at the same moment, Meganium's scream flashed bright in her memory: she was winded, and without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed the other stone.

Pain exploded in her head. The table was sent flying, Spike fell to the floor, the whole house shook. Kris ignored all of it: wincing, she turned and looked down the hall, focusing on a door at the end of the house.

It swung open. A blinding light burst out of the room, engulfing everything. It was strong, blinding, but Kris soldiered on. Spike yelled out behind her, but his voice was lost in all the cries inside her head: the wars from decades, centuries past, the screams of trainers in their final moments, coupled with her own pain. Tears flowed down Kris' face and she walked towards the light, the shadows of two figures waiting for her on the other side. She shut her eyes, trying to stop the pain, trying to stop her memories…

She stepped inside the room, and it all went black.


The phone rang… once… twice… three times…

Amanda sighed and hung up. It had been the same response every time she had called for the past week. She checked the time again, just as she had done after every other failed attempt, each time hoping she was wrong and her watch was broken. But no – it was one minute past midnight once again, which meant Buzz still was not picking up.

Amanda put her phone next to her on the end of the bed and sat still, wondering what to do next. She remained frozen for a minute: she tried to focus on the crashing waves outside her tent, on the distant fog horn echoing in the night, the closer cackles of a party returning home of the night.

She lasted a minute, and then she screamed.

Leaping to her feet, Amanda grabbed her bed and flipped it, throwing the thin metal frame against the canvas. As it bounced to the floor, she knocked her laptop, notes and mug off her table and then kicked that across the middle, cracking the wood. She bent the chair, standing on the hinges until they snapped, and then threw through the flaps, listening as it clanged onto the ground.

You ignorant, selfish, manipulative little prick, Amanda thought, grabbing the plate leftover from her dinner and smashing it, letting sauce and soggy vegetables fly across her possessions. Are you the only one affected by this, are you the only one afraid of what is going to happen next? I have put all my trust into you; I am living in a fucking tent babysitting toddlers for you; the least you can do is show me some fucking -GRATITUDE!"

Amanda snapped still, that last word echoing as she held a jacket in both hands, about to tear it in two. She dropped it and stepped out through the flaps. Their campsite, made up of about a dozen tents set up around a car on the corner of the Fuchsia Beach Promenade, was empty. Breathing deeply, Amanda stared at the identical tents, waiting for someone to come out and quiz her: she had lost control, letting that last word slip out, drawing the final attention to herself. Throwing everything around, that had been reserved, hidden away behind the tent for no one to see, but even she knew how loudly she had screamed. Everyone would have heard it; what would they say…how could they follow her now…the show, the plan, it was ruined…

No one appeared. Amanda waited, knowing it was too good to be true to get away with that. But as her rage faded, pushed to the back of her mind where it belonged, she was able to think clearly. Damien had won today's battle challenge, and was staying at a hotel with his Pokémon and a third of the crew. The rest of them had gone to the local bar, leaving only Chloe and Lachlan behind.

Fervently, Amanda marched towards Lachlan's tent, peering through a hole she had made near the top several weeks ago: the boy was asleep, headphones in and out to the world. Amanda stepped back and breathed a sigh of relief, while swiftly grabbing loose strands of hair and pulling them tightly back into a bun loosened during her rage.

That's all of them, except for… Chloe. The girl's tent flaps were fluttering in the soft breeze blowing in from the water, and it did not take long for Amanda to turn and spot the girl: she was at the end of the pier, staring out towards the water.

Her heels echoed each time they rapped against the wooden boulevard. Chloe turned and gazed at Amanda but made no remark, quickly looking back to the ocean. Amanda tensed up but tried to compose herself, not wanting to give her any room to act.

"What are you doing out here? We have a busy day of filming tomorrow, I don't want you tired and causing a scene."

"I'll go to bed in a minute," Chloe snapped back. Amanda resisted the urge to slap her. She had spent weeks dealing with these children, all for a mission that was falling apart around her, and they were getting on her nerves their constant bickering amongst each other and inability to pose any threat to Alaska.

Breathe, Amanda, breathe… you are the producer, you have to be in control.

"Well, make sure you do," Amanda said, forcing a smile, and she turned to leave. She pushed the rage away and took solace in the fact no one had noticed her outburst: she could carry on how she was, and still have sway over this lot should Buzz still need her. But it had been over a week now and she still hadn't heard from him: was she not meant to be his closest confidante, was she not the one who had done anything and everything he had asked of her, was she not the person he had let degrade, torture and abuse however he saw fit…

"Amanda." The producer stopped and spun around, biting her lips to stop herself screaming again. Chloe didn't seem to notice though, staring at her with eyes swimming with tears. "Amanda, I just wanted to know… no, never mind, it's not –"

"Tell me," Amanda said sharply. "I'm your producer, I am happy to deal with any issues you might have." Chloe paused, watching her for a moment, sniffling pathetically.

"I'm a good trainer, aren't I? Like, I mean, there is a still a chance I can win this, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's been weeks since I last won a challenge, and the more challenges I lose, the more opportunities Damian and Lachlan are getting to advance." Tears streamed down her face now, and Chloe sniffed and wiped her nose as she stared tearfully at Amanda. "I came on this show because I thought I would have a chance at winning, but I just keep losing, and nothing I do seems to help! I've been training every day, my Pokémon are growing stronger, but I still keep getting my arse handed to me!"

"Now Chloe, don't sell yourself short, there is still time to –"

"And BLOODY ALASKA!" Chloe screamed, stamping her foot so hard that snot flew right out of her nose. "Just when I think I am doing better, that cow shows up, undermining me further, thinking she is so great! Why can't she just back off and leave me alone instead of always getting in my way? This is my chance to actually succeed, to be someone other than just my father's daughter. If I won, I would be able to support myself and decide my own future. But every time she appears, she just throws me off balance and it takes weeks to get back on track and… and… just… URGH!"

Amanda watched as the girl lashed out, kicking a mouldy bit of wood; she cracked it in two, but injured her foot at the same time, adding moans of pain to her cries. She wanted to slap her, to tell her to get over herself and move on, tell her what she really thought of her: spoilt, immature, greedy, demanding.

Yet now, there was something in her Amanda had never seen before: anger, true, untampered, spiteful rage. She hates Alaska almost as much as I do, the producer thought, her lips spreading in a smile. And she has been training a lot – her Pokémon are improving. She is a halfway competent trainer… better than Buzz ever was.

"Come here Chloe, we need to have a talk." Amanda wrapped an arm around her, pulling Chloe into her wake and guiding her back down the pier.

"Talk? About what? And you never answered my question!"

"Oh honey, there is more going on in this world right now than a little reality show. We have a mutual problem, you and I, and if you have me get rid of it, then I will ensure that you win in ways you never imagined." Chloe looked confused, but Amanda's mind was clearer than it had been in weeks, and she led the girl back towards the campsite, the next stage of her plan already forming.


I would just like to say that this is the 100th overall chapter of this story. I am amazed I have made it this far, but there is still more to come! Thanks all those who have read and reviewed in the past, and I hope that Fuchsia and beyond will keep you reading.