Your name is Diantha Ruston, and your career is spiraling out of control.

The latest film you starred in titled "Forever" didn't receive the reviews you had hoped it would. It wasn't your favorite film you starred in, but you had hoped that it would have turned out better than an overall six out of ten stars.

Sitting with your manager Kathi Lee, you handed the review back to her. "Maybe we just need to try something new," she suggested.

The thing was, you already had. You even starred in a horror movie. That one received better reviews than "Forever", but only by a slim margin. There wasn't much else you could do that you felt wouldn't be trying too hard.

"I think," you paused. Finishing the sentence was going to kill you. "I think it's time for me to quit."

You look to your manager who is staring wide-eyed at you. "Diantha! That's crazy! A few bad films doesn't mean it's time to quit!"

Looking away from her eases your anxiety enough to speak. "I'm sorry, Kathi Lee. I've seen the trends. We've both read the articles. I'm old, and old news."

You can feel her grimace. "You're twenty-six, Diantha. That's hardly old. If you're old, then I'm ancient."

"How was it growing up with Archen at your doorsteps?" You laugh as she smacks your shoulder with the review.

"I'm not here for your stupid comments! I'm here to be serious. Quitting now is a terrible idea," she tells you. You'll be hard pressed to see it that way, unfortunately.

You face her again. "Quitting now while I'm still relatively on top is my best option. I'm still the league champion, at the very least."

The two of you argue about the decision for over a month. It takes a lot of convincing on your part.

A year later, a girl named Serena pulls what you have left of your throne out from under you. While you didn't have to surrender the title to her, you did. After going so many years undefeated, it was the final blow to your pride.

Siebold and Augustine tried to convince you to stay, but the humiliation ate at you while you sat as acting champion. That year was absolute torture. So, you took what little bit of dignity you still had and ran.

Unova was out of the question. You were just as famous there as in Kalos.

Hoenn was an option, but with your film "Hoenn Holiday", you didn't want to risk anybody knowing you there.

Kanto and Johto were a good option, but you felt no draw to either regions.

Sinnoh was your only option. The population was sparse in comparison to Kalos, and your films never really made it over there. Hiding away in the mountains sounded like a decent idea, but there was always the risk of cabin fever.

Maybe you could become a manager to some new talent. Maybe you could protect someone more than Kathi Lee had ever protected you.

Normally, it would be the celebrity who had a made up name, not their agent. You, however, wanting to minimize the risk of exposure, now went by Carnet Oris.

You didn't think that finding a person to manage would be very easy. You didn't know what the talent out of Sinnoh was like, and with the smaller population, surly it would take a good amount of time.

However, the opposite came true. The word was put out that the new Sinnoh League Champion had a falling out with her manager, and was now in need of a new one. The opportunity was almost too perfect. The thought of protecting a champion was too tempting.

Her response was immediate. She accepted to meet you the next day. It was absolute serendipity.

You prayed she would accept you being her manager.

Standing in the grand hall of the office building you had rented space in, you waited for her. You had done a little research on her, but knowing what your own profile said about you, and knowing yourself, you were eager to get to know what she was really like.

Eventually, she walked in, stunned from all the photographs.

You smile to yourself, remembering the feeling. "Camera flashes make it look like a dream, don't they?" You speak.

It takes her a few seconds to gather herself as she blinks away the flashes.

She's much taller than you expected, and she's absolutely gorgeous. Instantly, you've committed yourself to protecting her.

"Well, we have a lot to discuss, so I suggest you follow me." You throw her a glance as you turn away from her.

You're in for a ride, and you couldn't be more excited.

For the longest time, you realize, your own tone and reactions undermine your real excitement. You've allowed yourself to slip into the mask of a manager. Sure, you two joke around every now and then, but you've allowed yourself to act too much like Kathi Lee.

It was time for a change…but not before giving Cynthia her fist lesson in being a celebrity.

"I'm warning you now, Cynthia: Your lover downstairs doesn't even know you, and you don't know him."

Your warning stops her. She looks to you, and gives you an incredulous look. "He's not my 'lover', Carnet. He's Steven Stone. The Hoenn Champion?"

Of course you knew that. The two of you knew one another, and it was why you were refraining from meeting him, lying about catching up on work. You couldn't risk letting Cynthia know who you were just yet. She didn't need to know that the embarrassment of Kalos was her manager.

You just shrug in response. "Sure, sure." Waving your hand, you dismiss her. "Heed my warning," you say just before she's left your office.

You weren't stupid. You knew exactly how the night was going to go down. It would start out innocent enough, but you had seen this exact scene play out plenty of times before.

Steven, that beautifully oblivious man, being the heartthrob of Hoenn that he was would easily charm Cynthia. Not that she wouldn't be just as charming, if not more in your opinion.

They would make a nice power couple, though.

The next morning you find yourself running late while on your way to meet with Cynthia for her photo shoot. Before you cross the busy street of downtown Hearthome, a small magazine stand catches your attention. What attracts you most is the front cover of a gaudy tabloid.

It was almost too perfect. You lesson was moving far faster than you could have dreamed.

You buy it from the man and laugh your way to the studio.

By the time you get to her, she's already with the makeup artist. "I have a question for you, my dear Cynthia," you ask, sitting away from her.

"Yes, Carnet?" She responds, trying not to disturb the artist too much.

You flip through the pages again, if only to be dramatic. "My English is failing me at the moment, so help me out." That wasn't a complete lie. The phrase was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn't place it. "What is the term for…a hurried marriage? For when one is pregnant?"

Her eyes narrow at you, and she's trying her hardest to not laugh. "Are you trying to say shotgun wedding?"

The magazine falls into your lap as you clap your hands together. "Yes! A shotgun wedding!" The phrase was just as ridiculous as you had hoped. "When is it?" You ask.

Her smile vanishes. "Excuse me?"

Picking up the magazine, you show her the cover. "I didn't know it was possible to be three months pregnant with a man you just met!"

The makeup artist snickers to herself before taking her leave. It's just the two of you now.

"Well?"

"You know I'm not pregnant," she tells you.

It takes everything in you to not laugh as you rise form your seat. "You better hope you're not after last night." She better not think you didn't notice the mark on her neck. Everything had gone exactly as you predicted.

She shifts around, unwilling to respond to you. It was a hard lesson to learn.

"I'm not stupid, Cynthia. I know you're not pregnant, and I like to think you're smart about your activities with others. I just want you to know that there are consequences to everything you do from now on. Anybody with a penis who comes near you will suddenly become the father of some child you didn't know you were having, and you'll be in a relationship left and right in the eye of the public. You can do no wrong, but you can also do no right."

It's easy to see she doesn't like what she's hearing, but you were speaking from the heart. Kathi Lee hadn't taught you that lesson. You had to learn it on you own, so you kept making the mistake early on. You wouldn't let Cynthia make that mistake over and over again.

"Anyways," you derail, figuring the lesson had gone on enough, "I think you need to be battling more. You've been slacking off. You may be the strongest trainer for now, but there's always someone looking to take you off your throne," you tell her, approaching her.

The makeup artist did a good job, but you might need to give her your scarf if she doesn't want her little rendezvous getting out.

"Why don't you battle me?" She asks.

The suggestion took you by surprise, making you laugh. It was probably the first time you had laughed so genuinely since arriving in Sinnoh. "Oh, Cynthia, I don't think you want to face me. You wouldn't want me to be the one who dethrones you." That, and you didn't want to give yourself away. Gardevoir still had her charm on her, and with her being your signature it stood the chance of being a dead-giveaway.

Maybe you didn't have to battle with Gardevoir, but Cynthia at least deserved your best.

"So, you think you could beat me?" She asks.

You smile at her. "I would wipe the floor with you." Winking, you leave ahead of her.

"With that kind of attitude, I expect a battle form you someday," she tells you, finally catching up.

Glancing at her, you realize you can't say no. "One day, dear Cynthia."

With Cynthia's next photo shoot coming up fast, you were desperately scouring the internet for a dress she might wear. With the summer months upon you, it had to fit the season. At first you considered a warm blue dress you found, but one of the related dresses was too perfect to pass up.

"You like space and mythology, correct?" You ask her.

She's quiet as she thinks over her answer. "Sure."

"How about this dress?" You ask, flipping your tablet around for her to see.

She instantly laughs, and you swear you've never heard a sweeter sound.

"Never," she responds.

You had expected the answer, but you still pout at her. "I think you would look lovely. Granted," Recovering from the pout was easy as you gave her a look over. "Anything on you looks stunning. You've got the perfect figure." It wasn't a lie. Her height was an absolute gift to the modeling world. It's almost a shame that she wasn't a model full-time, or at the very least, famous sooner.

"The best part of that outfit would be taking it off."

You smile at her. The opportunity was too perfect and you couldn't pass it up when it was handed to you like that. "I should think so." The second that's out of your mouth you realize your tone was far too flirty, and maybe you shouldn't have taken the chance, but it's so difficult to stop looking at her.

Turning away from her, you slip back into French as you ramble on about the situation. It was something you did often. You knew she wasn't going to understand a word of what you were saying, so it was a good coping method.

"Damn," you grumble, forcing yourself out of the situation. "You know what you have to do today. You know how to reach me if needed."

You couldn't look back at her. Your face was far too warm to not be showing any color.

Months easily roll by, and at the end of summer, like every year, the Pokémon League's International Meeting was to be held. You prayed and prayed it would be in any other region than Kalos or Unova, but of course, it was to be held in Kalos.

The thought of returning was a nice one. Seeing your dear Siebold and Augustine would have made you very happy, but the thought of that world seeing you again was too much.

It also didn't help that you were sure that Cynthia was now bound to discover your little secret. You weren't sure what would be the worst way: through members of your former league, or the possibility of an in-flight movie starring you.

Probably the movie.

You wanted to tell Cynthia before she had the chance to find out on her own, but every time you tried, the words were stuck in your mouth. It was immature of you to think that she would be too angry with you. Surly the two of you wouldn't have one of those moments from romance films where the secret causes a huge rift between the two of you.

That was probably the worst possible outcome.

Finally, sitting in the car with her, you find yourself able to at least tell her something. "I won't be going with you to Kalos."

"Why?" She asks.

You can't face her. "I just will not. I will not return to Kalos. I cannot." You refuse to face your failure. "You don't need me, anyways. You know how to handle your own."

She turns to face you, and you know she's not satisfied with the answer.

"Somehow, I don't think that's the entire answer." If only she knew.

After some time, she asks, "Will you finally battle me?"

You aren't sure what prompted the question, but it brings a smile to your face. "If you don't mind losing."

A one on one battle couldn't hurt. It had been such a long time since you had battled, anyways. You could use the practice.

The battle ended in a draw. Shame washed over you, and it took all your years of acting experience to not show it. It had been so long that your mental connection with Gardevoir was suffering. You even had to call a few moves because you weren't in sync.

Walking up to Cynthia, you ask, "Well?"

She smiles at you. "You're incredible."

You return her smile, and find yourself a little lost in the moment. No words were exchanged, so you just enjoyed looking at her. Warmth worked its way over your body, and you knew it wasn't just from the afternoon sun.

The entire week Cynthia was gone you found yourself a little lost. Sitting in your sparse apartment with nothing to do was bad for your anxiety. The brief snow showers kept you inside. It wasn't an element you were used to. Kalos received snow, but not at the end of summer.

Sinnoh was strange, and without Cynthia, it was even more strange.

Lying on your bed, you realized you probably weren't supposed to miss her this much. Not as her manager, anyways.

Cynthia's return was without delay, and as you waited for her at the airport, your excitement to see her was quickly crushed as she refused to say anything to you.

She knew. She had to have. She had to have figured out your lie.

That night, you received a call from Siebold. While it was nice to hear his voice, you wish it hadn't been telling you that your fear was confirmed. Serena had been the one to expose your secret. She hadn't meant to, so you couldn't be mad at her.

You could only be mad at yourself.

It took two weeks for you to finally be able to confront her about it.

"May we talk?"

She invites you to sit with her on the couch. You make sure to keep a certain distance between the two of you. You've never seen her angry, and you pray it's not explosive. "My dear Siebold tells me he has spoken to you, and so I'm sure you have put everything together. I'm…I'm sorry I never told you the truth about who I am. I've just been so ashamed. Believe me, I've wanted to!" The shame you feel is overwhelming.

"I'm not mad, Diantha. I'm just…really confused. Why hide who you are?" She asks, stopping your rambling.

Your smile is bitter and forced. "Like I said, I was ashamed. My career went down the drain, and then I lost my title as champion. I was tired of how I was portrayed by the media. Having been a celebrity, I felt like I might be able to at least protect some new talent. It was a coincidence that you chose me. Not only was a managing and protecting a celebrity, I was protecting a fellow champion."

There was still more to tell her, but for now, it was a start.

"Thank you."

Her response surprises you more than anything. You expected her to demand you leave and never come back, not to thank you.

The realization that everything would be okay almost makes you cry.

The rhythm between the two of you that followed was far better than it had ever been. The fact that you didn't have to hide your past from her felt liberating. With that out of the way, you allowed yourself to be far more open with her, and she did the same with you.

Sure, maybe you were now crossing the lines of manager and client relationships, but it wasn't just you crossing that line. Cynthia regularly crossed it as well. Maybe you were getting too comfortable with it, but those were just maybes.

Sitting with her in the league's conference room, you waited with her to see if she was going to be challenged. The last you heard, the challenger had made it past Flint, but you felt safe in assuming Lucian would have no trouble taking care of them.

The magazine in your hands shouldn't have been there. You really need to stop grabbing the latest magazine pertaining to Cynthia since it drove the market for them. But sometimes, they were just too entertaining.

"Look at that! So attractive you're making gay men question themselves!" You tell her as your eyes linger on the last words of the article.

She groans in response. She's getting tired of it, and you're just getting started. Taking the magazine from your hands, you tell her which page to look at.

"Well, he better not propose, because Cynthia Adams doesn't suit me."

You giggle and watch her toss it on the coffee table.

"Then again, Jenness has never sounded right, either."

You grin at her. "It doesn't quite fit you, does it? You should take mine." You feel your heart struggling to catch a beat, as the blood is now all running to your face. You immediately stand up, facing away from her.

It was a line that didn't make it into one of your movies. It was really quite terrible, and why you quoted it, you weren't too sure. It was practically a proposal, after all.

"I'm," your hands start fidgeting, and you struggle to not slip into French just yet, "going to…to check your afternoon appointments! To see if there are any!" Your mastery of the English language was truly astounding.

Once you were out of sight, you gripe to yourself in French. You complain that you've begun to develop romantic feelings for her, and that it's driving you insane. You wish you could just act completely on those feelings, and that you could at least have some sort of gauge on how she felt for you, too.

You know she still doesn't understand you. Part of you wished she did, that way you could just get that out of the way as well.

Away from the situation, you lean against the door, giving yourself a few seconds to calm down. You were turning into quite the mess.

For two painstaking years, life continued that way. There was no line between your relationship now. There was hardly anything professional to it. You went from tiptoeing around it, to dancing straight over it, leaving it out of sight.

Flirty remarks and touches that last too long happen on a near regular basis. She flirts with you, and never before has anyone ever been able to fluster you so easily.

With each challenger that she faced, you almost wish that she would lose, but at the same time, you know how painful it is, and wouldn't wish that kind of pain on her.

"I'll give you three guesses as to what the newest tabloids are saying about you, dear Cynthia." You move from standing in front of her, to sit on her bed. Maybe you made a bit of a show out of the action, but the way she watches your every move fills you with the best kind of anxiety.

"Surprise me," she tells you.

That wasn't fun. "Not interested in playing my games?" You ask, batting your eyes at her. Granted, the game you were currently playing was much different from the one you mentioned. Cynthia was playing along marvelously.

"Trust me, I'm interested." Marvelously.

You laugh at her, placing aside only two of your magazines. "How about this one then?" You hold out the pink cover to her. "I was surprised to find they had an international section! It's even translated!" Granted, you could have translated for her, and probably made a show out of that as well. Thinking on it, it was a shame there wasn't a French copy.

She flips through its pages, stopping on what you assume is your picture.

"I didn't read into it too much. I wanted to be surprised! Tell me, are they still telling legends of how I disappeared? How I took my money and got the hell out?" You ask, getting a little too invested in the answer.

It was entertaining, but you were losing sight of your original game.

When she sits beside you, you have no trouble balancing the two. She's silent as she reads, and it takes all your restraint to not move anything too soon.

The second it's back in your hand, you put it aside.

"Well, they're speculating that you bought a bunch of land somewhere in the countryside of Kalos. You picked the rose garden over Lumiose City."

You laugh again, and take notice of her gripping the comforter.

"Krigia biflora, actually," you tell her. Her questioning look prompts you to continue. "It's a type of flower. If there were any garden of flowers I picked over Lumiose City, it would be those, not roses." Of course, she didn't need to know that the common name for those flowers was two-flower Cynthia. She didn't need to tease you over your seemingly useless knowledge of flowers.

She leans back on her hands, brushing yours in the process. The simple gesture is enough to insight butterflies.

"I think you had it right."

You now give her a questioning look.

"At first, I didn't really understand giving up stardom, but now, after all the tabloids and unwanted attention, I think I get it. I'm realizing that maybe this isn't what I want in life."

You lean in towards her, knowing it was as perfect of a moment as any other. Though, up until now, restraint had never pained you. "What is it you're wanting then, dear Cynthia?"

You know the answer at this point, but you just want to hear her say it.

"I'm going to be stupid and tell you there's only one thing I want at the moment." It wasn't stupid. It wasn't stupid at all. The "you" was implied.

"May I kiss you?"

Her answer was evident on her lips as she kissed you with years worth of pent up frustration.

The position was uncomfortable, and the second you were in her lap every last thread of decency you had remaining came undone. Not only was it exhilarating to be getting physical with someone, the fact that it was her under you made all the difference. Years of acting experience couldn't keep you from expressing every raw emotion, not that you would even want to hide it from her.

Her hands slipped up your thighs as she kissed your neck, and you were helpless to surrender to the feeling. Even though you started out confident, she was now in full control, but you couldn't be happier.

Leaning against the door, you slowly slid down to sit on the floor, clutching at your dress. The high from the evening had yet to wear off, and it would probably be a few hours before it did.

"Je crois que je t'aime," you mumble aloud. The phrase alone sends your heart racing all over again.

If only you had experienced this feeling before, maybe then your last films wouldn't have suffered. Then again, if your last films hadn't suffered, you probably would have never gotten this close to Cynthia. That was a fate you didn't want to think about.

The downfall of your career might have been horrible at first, but now, there wasn't anywhere else you'd rather be.

Except maybe back with Cynthia.

Cynthia didn't enjoy green rooms in the way that you did. You enjoyed them for the fact that they provided quiet and calm before an interview. Cynthia seemed to enjoy them because it suddenly provided the perfect opportunity to tease you.

When she handed you her nail file, you couldn't help but notice that her nails were trimmed just as nicely as your own.

"Are you teasing me, dear Cynthia?" You ask her.

"Me? Never," she responds, walking away to follow the caller.

Crossing your legs, you make dramatic huff as you go about filing your nails. You knew exactly what she was doing, because you had been doing the same.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to watch the whole interview on the closed circuit tv. At the end of the day, many of the interviews were scripted in a sense. There were only so many questions they knew they could get away with, and only so many Cynthia would be willing to answer.

If your memory served correctly, though, they always asked a certain question without fail.

"So, is there anyone special in your life at the moment?"

And there it was. The same question had been asked of you countless times.

You stop filing your nails to see what her answer would be. There was no official title between the two of you –yet– and you wondered how she would answer.

"You could say that."

Her answer brought a smile to your face, and you resumed your work, finishing your last nail.

It didn't take long for her to finally return to you. Her face told you she was going to beg to never do a talk show interview ever again. "I can already hear the tabloids printing," you tease.

"Let's go. I'm done with this, and I'm ready to get out of this dress," she tells you.

How you actually got her to wear the dress even you weren't sure. You hadn't been particularly flirty when you asked her to wear it, and you didn't think your pout was enough to actually convince her.

It fit her figure wonderfully, and it took every ounce of your restraint to not steal too many glances at her.

Once back at the hotel, you offer to help her get out of her dress, and even though your tone was innocent enough, anyone could have seen the double meaning in your words.

You weren't supposed to make her late to the dinner she was invited to, but leaving red kisses on her was far more desirable on both your parts.

"It took them long enough to run this article," you tell her, reading over the magazine.

"Five years too late," Cynthia responds.

Five years, and one careers too late, to be exact. In that time, many other articles surfaced as to what happened to the Sinnoh Champion, but it took them five years to finally put together that she had run away from it all with her manager.

The rose garden was far more preferable to any square of a large city.