Mayor Megalos's office was white. Stark white. White walls, white floors, white desk, white chair. It fit in with the white and blue architecture of Sootopolis City, even without any blue of its own. In other circumstances, it probably would have been what Wallace imagined what the chambers of Tziráchi's angels looked like—ethereal yet homely. But in the present circumstances, it was less welcoming and more intimidating, like a pristine altar that couldn't be damaged, dirtied, or touched. It all made Wallace feel like his presence in the room was a dirty stain on the clean room in and of itself.

Megalos was sitting up straight in his chair, hands clasped together on the desk as he stared at Wallace. Megalos was old enough to be Wallace's dad, but his graying brown hair and wrinkles made him look closer to being his grandfather. Sure, Wallace was taller, but speaking from both appearance and Wallace's own experience, the older and far more heavyset man was hardly some frail old codger. Even at his age, Megalos was big and muscular enough to overpower Wallace by hitting him, or pinning him against a wall, or holding him down on the desk and taking off his—

No. No. No. No. Fuck, those thoughts were too painful to remember. But they couldn't be painful. Not for someone with his duties and responsibilities. He had to serve Megalos to save Sootopolis City. And besides, Wallace had to repay Megalos somehow. Megalos deserved compensation for helping Sootopolis City, for caring for Wallace.

"I have some matters to discuss with you regarding past and future events."

Megalos's voice was calm. Megalos's voice was perfect. His voice could bring Wallace back to attention. So why did Wallace keep getting distracted by such painful memories when there were more important matters at hand?

Wallace nodded. His legs felt shaky, and his head was spinning. He wanted to sit down, but even if there was a chair for him to sit in, he knew that Megalos would look down on him for showing weakness if he didn't keep standing. Weakness wouldn't save Sootopolis City from ruin. Only perfection would.

So he stood in front of Megalos's desk as perfectly as he could.

"I heard that you won this week's swim relay… only to pass out and get kicked off the team. I'm disappointed, Wallace."

Megalos's stone-like eyes barely blinked. Wallace couldn't keep himself from staring into them; they were smooth, and their gaze was sharp enough to cut into his skin.

"I also heard you lost a Gym match," Megalos added.

"I won the one after—"

"Don't talk back to me," Megalos snapped back. "Losses reflect poorly on you and the city. It's a miracle that we got to keep the Gym after your father died. If it wasn't for Juan, you wouldn't be here."

Wallace swallowed. "I'm sorry—"

Megalos's brows furrowed sharply. "It's too late for 'sorry', Wallace! Don't you care for Sootopolis City? Don't you care for yourself?!"

Wallace's gaze fell to the floor. "I'll do better."

"You'd better do better."

Wallace nodded, knowing full well that it would do about as much as an "I'm sorry".

"Tomorrow," Megalos continued as he relaxed back into his chair, "I will be hosting a dinner party at Juan's estate. The wealthiest and most important of Sootopolitan, Hoennese, and larger Hinode society will be there."

He tapped his fingers on his desk, narrowing his eyes. "I want you to attend, and I want you to take part in an exhibition match against Cerulean City's Gym Leader."

Wallace wasn't stupid; by "want", Megalos meant "do these things or I'll make sure you regret it". Even still, Cerulean City's Gym Leader? Ren Mizutani was a controversial figure at best and accused of several crimes at worst: DUI's, Pokémon neglect, maybe sexual harassment if Wallace was remembering right—his memory wasn't always clear, and it only got worse and worse as the days went on.

Did Megalos really want to associate with her? Well, Megalos knew more than Wallace. He knew how to talk to people; Wallace didn't. Megalos knew about politics; Wallace didn't. Megalos knew about perfection; Wallace didn't.

But Wallace wasn't above morality. He wasn't about to—

"Do you have a problem with that, Wallace?" Megalos asked.

"With all due respect, Sir, doesn't Ren have a less-than-savoury reputation with her past relationships with younger men?"

Maybe Megalos would like Wallace's suggestion. Maybe he would praise Wallace for being so attentive to perfection.

"It's a bunch of sensationalist drivel made up by the media." Megalos retorted. Wallace noted Megalos's voice was ever so slightly more… angry.

"They made up those rumors when they found out she was coming to Sootopolis. They want us to fail."

Wait… that didn't line up.

"But didn't those rumors start at least a year ago?"

Wallace was only trying to help Megalos from making a mistake and being imperfect, just as Megalos did for Wallace. Maybe Megalos would praise Wallace for being so smart, for knowing so much about politics, for—

Those 'maybes' abruptly died in Wallace's mind when Mayor Megalos grabbed Wallace's shirt collar and jerked him forward. Wallace stumbled onto the desk and looked up, panting tensely. Mayor Megalos's eyes were aglow with fury.

"Are you questioning my intelligence, young man?!" he hissed.

You shouldn't have said anything.

"Mayor Megalos... please... I'm sorry for—Hhk!"

Mayor Megalos twisted his hand, choking Wallace in an iron grip that kept him from speaking. Adrenaline rushed into Wallace's body, and he felt his heart begin to throb in his chest. Logically, he wasn't surprised this was happening. Moments like this had happened before. They had been painful, but they had happened without Wallace dying. They only happened when he behaved very, very badly. He wouldn't die this time.

…Right?

"You're young, Wallace. Young and stupid," Megalos growled. "You're unstable and imperfect and wholly unprepared for the harsh world outside of this city's walls. Outside of my protection."

Megalos's grip on Wallace's collar tightened, and Wallace was certain he would pass out, at the very least.

"You don't understand things like I do. I don't want you misbehaving or disobeying me anymore. Do you understand?"

Yes. Yes I understand. Let me go let me go LET ME GO OR I'LL DIE.

Megalos let go of Wallace, who had to catch himself with his arm before his head crashed into the desk. Panting, Wallace had to steady his breath and consciousness for a few moments.

He felt around his neck for any marks left behind. He didn't want anyone thinking Nicole or a set-up or Winona or Steven or Megalos had choked him. Luckily, his scarf was in his bag; he could easily hide his neck. If word got out about any bruises, someone close to him would be accused of abuse. And if that person was Megalos… Wallace didn't want that. Sootopolis didn't need that. He wasn't being abused by anyone. He was just being put in his place by Megalos.

…Well, now that he thought about it, he hadn't spoken to Winona or Steven since… since their argument. He thought about responding to those text messages, but… Megalos wouldn't like that. Megalos wanted Wallace to marry a woman of high status, not a woman of low class who stooped to premarital sex, especially not a man. And besides, Winona and Steven didn't deserve someone so stupid, so unstable, so imperfect.

Megalos sat back down, his expression… 'softening' didn't seem like the right word, but at the very least, there was no longer fury boiling in his eyes. "I need you to get your act together by tomorrow night."

Wallace nodded as he tried to lift himself up, but Megalos snapped, "You aren't dismissed yet."

Fuck.

Megalos rested his hand under Wallace's chin and traced circles on the younger man's cheek with his thumb. Wallace tried to let himself relax in the steady motion, no matter how terrified his body was. Megalos cared for him. Megalos cared for him. Megalos cared for him.

"You have your… medicine, don't you?" Megalos asked. His eyes were stern, stern and calm and perfect and all of the things Wallace wasn't.

"C-caffeine pills, or-or alprazolam?" Wallace stuttered. Pitiful of him.

"Both. You need both of them to function. They'll lock you up if you don't take them."

Wallace's heart stopped. "Lock m-me up?"

"When my father died, my mother suffered from hysteria. Could barely function in society. They locked her up in an asylum, tied her up in a straitjacket, and she wasted away for the rest of her life."

Megalos glanced to the side, expression solemn in a way Wallace had never seen before.

"They're terrifying places full of psychotics, schizos, addicts, and some of the worst imaginable dregs of society. You don't want to end up in a place like that, do you?"

That sounded… horrible. Wallace felt his stomach churn and felt acid clawing up his throat. He hadn't eaten anything today yet, but just the thought of being in a place like that was making him feel ill.

"I… I don't," he replied. He didn't want to be locked up. He didn't want to be locked away from his family or Steven or Winona or his Pokémon or anyone. He didn't want to be reduced to a gibbering, screaming waste of space.

"Do you think I'll end up like that?" Wallace asked weakly.

Megalos turned back to Wallace, putting his thumb to Wallace's mouth. "If you don't listen to me, and if you don't take your medicine, yes," he answered. "Fortunately, those are choices, Wallace. Ones where the right ones are right in front of you."

Megalos moved his face closer to Wallace's. "I trust you'll make the right choices."

Wallace's eyes darted towards the door. Megalos was quick to cut this notion short when he tapped Wallace's lip once.

"If you want to leave now, that's your choice, of course—" the sentence lingered in the air as if there was a "but" just waiting to be said out loud.

Wallace knew the routine. He swallowed down bile before he began unbuttoning his shirt. "I'll stay."

-

The bathroom was down the hall. No one came to Megalos's office around this hour, so it was safe to purge in the bathroom without fear of anyone walking in on him.

Everything hurt. Everything hurt. Wallace was too exhausted to lift his head from the toilet seat, too exhausted to stand up. Maybe it was the medicine. Maybe it was the… the…

He couldn't purge again to make the thoughts go away; there was nothing in his stomach, not even bile. He just wanted to clean the thoughts away with water and soap and rubbing alcohol and whatever he needed to make the dirt on his soul go away, to make the guilt for feeling dirty go away.

"Clean yourself up," Megalos had said after… after that, "and don't tell anyone about our little secret. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't understand you like I do."

No one understood Wallace like Megalos. Megalos knew that Wallace wanted—needed to save Sootopolis, no matter the cost. And best of all, Megalos knew how Wallace could save Sootopolis. Megalos deserved something in return, even if it was…

His fucking PokéNav was buzzing.

With shaky hands and stiff fingers, Wallace took it out. Steven was texting:

Hey
Are you good
Haven't heard from you in a while
Winona and I are worried
- Steven
Want ot bekauo
Canktldo thuihs anymmkpre
y9ou dseveruve besteter
- Wallace

He couldn't be with Steven and Winona. He had to be with Megalos. He had to be with Sootopolis.

This duty was his birthright. Countless Sootopolitans, especially most of his cousins, would do anything to be Megalos's protégé. His ancestors had given up so much—sometimes their lives—so Wallace could have this position and carry on Sootopolis City's legacy. He had to stand up to the waves that would try to bring it down, whether they were physical or cultural or social or political waves.

He had to be its shining, guiding star, and shining, guiding stars were perfect. The people were staring up at him, and the gods were staring down at him: Wallace Izumi Papadakis, Gym Leader of Sootopolis City, guardian of Sootopolis City, priest of Sootopolis City, Lorekeeper of Sootopolis City.

His outer shell had to be perfect. His inner self and desires and well being didn't matter. They weren't going to be seen by the city. They weren't going to shape its destiny as its guardian in front of the whole world. He had to be perfect for Sootopolis City's past, present, and future, and that sometimes meant dealing with unpleasant things such as Megalos. But not even Megalos was unpleasant, because Wallace was lucky to be with Megalos. Wallace was lucky to be chosen by the only person who knew how to save Sootopolis.

So what if he had to use drugs to stay awake or fall asleep or stay sane? He never overdosed except when he was blackout drinking, and he wasn't an addict or dealer. So what if he had to discipline himself with starving and purging? It wasn't like it was an eating disorder; it was more akin to an extended Nisteía, a routine of self-discipline and respect for what the gods had given the world. So what if he had to cut and hit himself? Just a bit of makeup and then he looked perfect again.

So what if Megalos yelled at him? So what if Megalos sometimes got physical with him? So what if Megalos all but encouraged old, rich socialites to harass Wallace? So what if Megalos sometimes… sometimes…

This was his duty. This was his duty.