"Right this way, sir."
The lights in the laboratory were blinding, glowing off the white walls, making Hilbert squint. Hands in his pockets, he walked carefully through the open workspaces, watching the plethora of scientists at their benches working on different devices, scribbling notes or coercing the Pokemon on their desks to cooperate. The whole space smelled sterile, cleaned and spotless, the hum of various machines and the low chatter of note-exchanging making the space seem human, even though it seemed truly otherworldly. Gigantic scopes had been lowered from the ceiling to inspect the scales on a blue-striped Basculin. Cables hooked up to a reactor snaked across the pure white flooring, going up to a counter where a Emolga was spreading its small, thin flaps, its beady eyes at the electrodes on the skin.
Stepping between a few tables, passing close to a large reactor filled with blue liquid, an assistant scientist beckoned Hilbert closer. As he waved him over, he checked his watch briefly.
Hilbert nearly tripped over a tray on the ground, rattling a set of discarded and used glass beakers and tubes, tinted with bright mercury-red resin. Watching his legs as he found the right footing, his head whipped around to his right as a scientist passed by with a box of assorted unusual rocks. He ducked down quickly, holding his hat, his sneakers squealing as he scuttled out of the way, avoiding a cursing scientist.
Once he had caught up with the grinning, nervous assistant, they both entered the hall, looking down the long, wide stretch to a set of doors near the end. At the prompting of the assistant, he followed carefully, looking around the assistant to see the strange, official-sounding names on the doors, turning and looking at the rather plain halls.
"I do apologize for the rush," said the balding assistant. As he walked stiffly down the halls, he looked down to his watch, then back ahead. "We're just slightly behind."
Hilbert said nothing. Instead, his eyes narrowed on the figure at the end of the hall.
Fennel had stepped through the set of doors, peeking her head through at the sound of footsteps. Stepping out, she eased the door behind her quietly, cutting off the dimly-lit office from view. She gave a dreamy, removed smile, her eyes lighting up slightly at the sight of the two.
"Is the professor in there now?" asked the assistant, looking sideways to see in the door.
Behind the assistant's shoulders, Hilbert was just barely able to see what was happening. He could see the dark, dimly lit edge of the cracked door. Fennel's gaze snapped to meet his when he tried looking in, and he promptly looked away. As Fennel shut the door completely, Hilbert realized he had been hearing muffled music, something operettic, now gone from the hall.
"As always, for this week anyway," Fennel said with a deep, sighing breath. Her smile became more forced as she looked over to Hilbert, then back up to the assistant. "Won't you give us a moment? The professor would like to see just him... And myself, of course."
By the confused, narrowed look that the assistant was giving, Fennel seemed a bit put off, shrinking back as he seemed to not take her meaning. It took a few moments before the assistant suddenly realized, snapping back to reality. He shook it off, nodding profusely before turning on a point, hastily exiting, his legs moving stiffly down the hall.
Fennel leaned out from the doorway, watching as the assistant headed down the hall. Once he had gotten far enough down and out of the way, she reached for Hilbert's shoulder, who was also watching. She pulled him closer gently, reaching behind and near-silently opening the door. She backed up, leading Hilbert through and into the office.
As he stepped forward at Fennel's guiding, he looked up to Fennel, pausing to give her a more confused, charged look than he had before. Swallowing, his adam's apple bobbing tenuously, he stepped forward into the dark entrance of the office.
The music had returned. Epic, stirring notes played by full ensemble orchestra and paired with a full choir, played from a set of speakers inside. The choral notes swelled, pulling the song from something deep and brooding and into something dark and powerful. As Hilbert moved into the office, he could hear just how loud the music was. He put a hand over his chest, feeling the thump and drone of the subwoofer rattle the cavity. Once the choir had reached an apex, the musical tone reaching heights and peaking, the epic, sweeping strings of the orchestra took over, pairing with a set of horns as the music turned more grave sounding.
A lamp at the desk was on, light coming from another lamp just behind the door. The warm haze of the lamplight washed over the walls, making the large, dark and polished wood installations seem ominous and luxurious. Hundreds of books, big and small lined the shelves, hidden in the dark alcoves. There were no windows, only paintings of coastal Unova in gold-tinted frames. Deep shag carpet covered the floors, wood board flooring going just beneath the desk. Just to the side of the room, on the side of the door, an ornate desk made of the same marbled wood that the shelves and wall installations were made of had a computer and several books on it. Professor Juniper sat behind, slouched over the tabletop.
The door swung shut behind him, Fennel closing it with a steel-sounding latch. Hilbert lurched, jumping in surprise. Rubbing his arm habitually, he scanned the room again, taking a few steps forward.
"Have a seat," Fennel whispered. When Hilbert looked at her, she nodded towards a desk chair opposite the desk, facing Juniper.
Egged on, Hilbert took a few steps forward. As he did, inspecting the desk, he quickly found himself hypnotized by the sight of the professor. He kept moving towards the chair, but he eventually froze completely in his tracks.
Juniper was laying over her desk, over the rubber mat set with papers. A glass of alcohol—something hard, from what Hilbert could tell—clutched in her hand. Her hair had come loose from her bun, seeming frayed and unkempt, similar to the night earlier. Her head was buried in the sleeve of her lab coat, almost as though she was asleep. As she heard Hilbert find the chair across from her, she slowly sat herself up, taking a deep, sniffling breath. She breathed, looking down and across, her eyes adjusting on Hilbert. Her eyes were red and puffy, dried trails of tears cutting through the foundation on her cheek and alluding to freckles.
"Oh Hilbert... I'm..." Juniper took a deep breath, regaining her composure. She took a deep inhale of breath through her nose, shaking off the conflicting feelings she had. "I'm terribly sorry... I hoped you wouldn't see me this way... I, well, I hoped I would have everything together by now."
Hilbert didn't say anything. He just watched, remaining silent.
Carefully, Juniper raised her glass, staring out through the glass walls of it. She turned the glass, the light, tan-colored drink turning inside, clinking together a few, generic oblong chunks of ice. Sniffling again, Juniper forced a quiet smile, looking at the glass in the dim light.
"I'm... Heh... I'm sure you're wondering why a... A professor would drink in barely the afternoon... Honestly I thought just this little bit would keep me together... But as soon as I poured it..."
Juniper's smile faltered almost immediately. Her gaze softened, despite how strong she had tried to keep it. The fingers that held the glass quivered, shaking and slipping over the glass. She lowered her arm carefully, silently, setting the glass back down on the rubber mat of the desk. Though she faced Hilbert, he was staring past him, too lost in thought to focus. Her mouth opened silently, quivering as it searched for words.
It hit. Juniper croaked, her eyes forcing closed, her eyes burning more than they could take. A few tears dribbled out from between her shut eyelids, rolling down onto her tense features. Her lips quivered, her teeth gnashing together beneath her closed, upturned mouth. Her long painted nails clawed at the rubber mat on the desk involuntarily, another croak escaping her.
"It's... It's my fault..." Juniper wept. She took a deep, pained and shrieking breath before letting out a a quiet cry of pain. Her desk chair creaked as she sat back, flopping against the back support.
In the long stretch of hallway outside Juniper's office, Hilbert sat close to the ground, his back resting against the wall. His arms had wrapped around his knees, slung over his legs, holding them close as he stared ahead at the floor. He kept silent, listening to the distant, muffled sounds of the laboratory as he breathed quietly. Tentatively, he swallowed. Across from him, resting on the ground across from him on the other side of the hall's wall, the red and black hat he wore sat pathetically like a husk. His gaze bore into the black Pokeball insignia on the head of it. The loose hair on his head had matted, resting in spiked slicks in an even, pine cone pattern layers.
Deep beneath the wall behind him, a familiar sound resonated. Hilbert looked up to the side, seeing the green door to the office. The muffled sounds of crying came through, hurried and whispered conversations that Hilbert couldn't decipher. Thumps from desks, the shuffling of footsteps on the floor, all sounds familiar and inexplicable.
Like the sound of thunder, the door exploded open beside Hilbert, pushed open with a sudden thrust. The door swung on its hinges, squealing to an apex before slowly swinging back. A hand caught the door. As Hilbert looked up, he caught a glimpse of Professor Juniper storming out, keeping her face covered with several papery tissues, her white purse dangling from her hand. His head whipped around as he watched Juniper move quickly down the hall, making a beeline for the bathroom at the end of the long hall, opening and immediately shutting the door.
With his head turned, his gaze lingering, Hilbert lurched as he suddenly heard something behind him. He turned, seeing the door hang open. Looking up, Fennel stood just outside the doorway, holding the door's edge, standing out in the hall and looking down at Hilbert.
"Come inside," she said.
Getting to his feet, Hilbert gave a passing look to the hat across the hall. He quickly snatched it up, pulling himself up onto his feet and placing the hat back on his head, tugging it down snugly. All around his ears, brown tufts of bushy hair stuck up, barely held down by the hat. He caught the door's edge with his hand, just holding it open as he waited for Fennel to clear the inside, then stepped in after her.
As the door shut behind Hilbert, the dim ambiance of the laboratory hall fading and disappearing completely, the warm, lamplit interior of the office took over. The opera music was gone, replaced with silence.
Fennel moved silently through the office, her long white lab coat flowing behind her with her deep blue, long and straight hair following just behind. Her pink flats tromped silently over the thin layer of carpet, her movements careful. She brushed her long bangs out of her eyes, inspecting the tall piece of furniture at the end of the office she stood at.
A tall, wooden breakfront stood in the center of the right wall. The tall structure, lined with cabinets among ornate wooden trim and small inset mirrors, had several trinkets and pieces of memorabilia that fit it in with the antiquated interior of the office. Several photos of family, Juniper's father as a young man among several pictures of her mother with him, as well as cousins from years past. On one side of the small, wooden columns that braced the upper cabinature, a faded photo of Juniper and Hilbert's mom in college, standing on a glass case with an incomprehensible electronic device. Hidden among the pictures were several old, dusty tomes, filled with old science and New Age thinking.
From the pocket in the bottom of her lab coat, Fennel pulled an old brass key. Pinched between her fingers, she slipped the key into the brass lock on the main cabinet door, twisting easily. The latch clicked, and Fennel hesitated to open the door, slowly easing the door back just enough to lower the latch out the left side when she turned the key. As she pocketed the key, she gave Hilbert a passing look, watching as he approached the side of the breakfront. Beneath the glowing haze of the lamps, Fennel's eyes looked cautious, worried.
Hilbert paid no mind. His eyes were transfixed on the photo of his mom and Juniper. The hazy glass showed a forest landscape, with thin and tiny black pine trees filling the background beneath a nearly white blue sky. His mother had bangs, her hair pulled into a sporty ponytail behind her, her straightened, damp black hair curving around her face in an awkward display of youth. Her eyes seemed young and alive, a toothy grin dominating the lower half of her face. She had her arms wrapped around Juniper's neck, showing off several armbands similar to Hilda. The camping sweater that Juniper wore seemed refined, if hammered and gross. Her freckles completely took over her face, going beneath the wide-rimmed glasses she wore. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail as well, though the dense curls made her look like a poodle.
Down in their laps, they each had a young, happy Pokemon. Darlene had a Snivy, wide-eyed and serene. Juniper had a Dewott, seemingly just evolved, sitting awkwardly in her lap like she wasn't used to the new length of his body.
As Hilbert looked past the photo, down into the glass case, he saw the leafy, aged label of a wine bottle. A bottle imported from Cherrygrove City. As the edges frayed, Hilbert trying to read the edges of the old paper label, a mess of wires stuck up at the edge. He looked down deeper into the case, seeing the long, olive-colored boards of an electronic device. A hazy, brass-colored mess of diodes and traces covered the surface, reaching hundreds of small metal capacitors and soldered-on components, black and square processors with a patchwork of metal teeth. Wires stuck up from the side, leading to several suction-cups on the ends of the wires, red dye lining the inside of the rubber cups like like it was pulled straight from the shell of a Pokeball. Up at the top of the device, an old, yellow-colored screen appeared, a small LED light beside it. Three data cartridges rested on the top of the device, scattered and unused.
"The professor really wanted to calm herself down, get her composure, but she couldn't seem to pull herself together. While she has things to do today, she also knows that you have way more to do, and she didn't want to waste any more of her time," said Fennel. "While she is incredibly disappointed that she could not be here to help with this, she would be more disappointed if she didn't complete this."
Beneath the cabinet door of the breakfront, an array of gleaming, darkly-lit Pokeballs appeared on the shelves. Down beneath the curved, rotating shelves, an old wooden box sat in the waiting shelf beneath all the different rows. Though Fennel's eyes wandered over the hundreds in Juniper's collection, she reached for the box and lifted it, pulling it out and setting it down on the counter top of the breakfront.
Fennel breathed pensively. Her hands rested on the edges of the box, her eyes slowly wandering down to view the ornate, small box. Slowly fading back to reality, she grabbed for the key on the counter, lifting it and slipping it into the keyhole on the cabinet door. She flipped the latch up, then shut the door, locking it.
Hilbert's gaze had diverted from the glass case and the device inside, instead looking at the ornate wooden box that Fennel had set down.
Something seemed off about the way Fennel moved. She walked away from the box almost immediately, heading away from it and approaching Juniper's desk. She moved with purpose, heading straightaway for a plain chair that rested beside a bookshelf and beneath a painting, lifting it by the back and leading it out around the desk. She avoided eye contact with Hilbert as much as she could, moving quickly back to the breakfront, grabbing the box and bringing it to the desk.
When she went to set the wooden box on the edge of the desk, she hesitated, looking down at the box as she slowly lowered it.
"Have a seat," said Fennel.
Hilbert slowly parted from the side of the breakfront, moving tenatively across the shag carpet, his eyes locked on the box. The chair he had been sitting in during his first encounter with Juniper was still there, skewed and just in front of the desk, where the box now was. When he reached the seat, he gave a passing glance to Fennel, seeing she was still just as removed as before.
The long column of the desk chair creaked beneath Hilbert as he sat down. He sat on the edge of his seat, constantly switching his gaze between the box and Fennel.
Fennel reached across the desktop, turning the box and facing the brass latch towards Hilbert. She carefully unlatched the box.
"The professor... Juniper... She made a promise to your mother..." began Fennel. "She wants to make sure that you get your Pokemon. Before it's too late."
The seat squeaked uncomfortably. Hilbert shifted in his seat, sitting a little more forward. The box had opened slightly as Fennel lifted it, his eyes darting to the dark opening. He then looked back up to Fennel.
"Because..." said Fennel, continuing to talk and fill space. "You know... When you turn twenty, you aren't allowed to get a starter..."
Fennel glanced up at Hilbert, looking pensive and distant. Her gaze shifted down to the box, her thumb propped just under the lid. Without a word, she motioned to the box, her other hand grasping the box as she carefully opened the top.
As the lid flipped up, a wooden lever inside pressed up slowly, thumping quietly. . A wooden, velvet-lined platform rose to the top as the lid of the box lifted it, bringing the contents of the box up to the top. Three identical, gleaming Pokeballs sat in slots on the platform, their buttons all facing Hilbert from just above the velvety surface. As Fennel guided the lid as far back as she could, the platform lifted up just enough to reveal a set of brassy, metal labels at the foot of the platform, naming each of the Pokeballs.
"Professor Juniper believes the time is right," said Fennel.
As Fennel released her hold on the lid, she pointed to the leftmost Pokeball, a pink-painted fingernail tapping on the top shell.
"This is Tepig," said Fennel, her eyes flashing to Hilbert. "A fire-type."
Her finger glided over to the next Pokeball, tapping on the top once again.
"Oshawott," said Fennel. "Water-type."
At the last one, Fennel hesitated, looking to the Pokeball and then to Hilbert. She pointed to it again, then quickly pulled her hands into her lap, sitting herself more comfortably in the chair.
"This is Snivy. A grass-type."
Hilbert continued to stare down at the box. He wasn't looking at the array of Pokeballs inside the box, instead looking at the box itself, lost in thought. Hunched over, he slowly slipped his face into his hand, rubbing his eyes softly before dropping his arms into his lap in defeat.
"I... I can't choose right now," Hilbert said, quietly.
As another car passed in front of Hilbert, he gave one last glance down the opposite end of the street, hopping off the sidewalk and quickly moving across the unmarked street towards the opposite side. A tall, thin alleyway presented itself in-between a Pokemart and a warehouse, a neon glow coming from one of the signs.
The sign to Roxie's gym glowed a faint, bluish green. The triangular, angled insignia of a Pokemon Gym burned against the brick of the walls, just above an old, ratty covering to a hammered steel door. A singular poster covered the door, advertising Roxie's gym like it was the venue for a rock concert.
Down beneath, Hilbert grabbed the handle of the door, popping the latch open. An old, rusty whine came from the hinges as it opened, revealing the dingy hall on the other side. Bright lights overhead cast unusual, otherworldly shadows over the gray concrete steps and graffiti-covered walls. He took the first few steps in, careful to keep the iron lip of the door and not trip.
Hilbert moved quickly down the steps. His hands remained tucked in his pocket, his sneakers clapping on the stairs as he sped down. He rounded the first landing, heading down the next few stairs.
As he approached, Hilbert thought he could hear conversation on the other side of the door, coming from the echoing inside. He kept going, reaching the door and opening it just enough, heading inside.
The former club was no longer decorated like a club. Instead, it had been set up like a gym, all of the tables cleared from the smooth wooden floors, all of the chairs stacked on another side of the space. Laid deep in the pattern of wooden boards, the outline of a league-style gym had been all marked out on the floor, with the center circle resembling a Pokeball and the outer boundaries defined. An unusual and familiar glow came from the lines. Up in the ceiling, an array of purple-glowing blacklight beams glowed.
As Hilbert's steps slowed to a stop, he heard the door to the gym swing back and slam closed. He looked down, seeing he was standing on the starting line of the challenger. His eyes narrowed at the glowing line beneath the toes of his sneakers. As he contemplated this, he looked to the ceiling, seeing the blacklights.
"That's... That's ridiculous!" a voice shouted. It wasn't Roxie's.
Hilbert's head whipped up to the stage. A single, green-tinted spotlight was turned on Roxie, who stood at the top of the stage.
Standing on the elevated platform of a gym leader, an area marked on the stage, Roxie had her guitar slung over her shoulder, the neck in her left hand and the body and strings beneath her right. A long chord snaked from it over to the black, leather-clad amplifiers, one a mere foot away. Beside her, hovering outside the green beam of light that cut through the hazy, smoky interior, Koffing was suspended in mid-air, his greasy eyes and thick, chunky teeth glowed a milky off-white in the blacklight haze.
At the bottom of the steps that led down from her platform, at the line marked in the cleared gym floor for her, a young male trainer stood at the line. Clad in shorts and a goofy, large blue overcoat, a thick red headband keeping his bushy hair out of his face and head, he stood defiantly at the line and stared up at Roxie.
By the look on Roxie's face, she was having none of it. She gave a flat look, staring down at the trainer.
"Kid, what's your name again?" asked Roxie.
"My name is Nate!" the trainer shouted, his voice echoing through the dim chamber of the club.
"Nate, right," Roxie murmured, under her breath. "Listen Nate," she said, her voice rising loudly to pickup in the acoustics in the club. "Did I not defeat you?"
"What? No, I mean—"
"Nate, did I defeat you in your gym leader challenge? Answer me. This... This is real easy. It's a yes or no question."
Nate looked indignant. "I mean, I wouldn't exactly call it a—"
Roxie scowled. "Nate. Yes or no."
"Yes! You defeated me! But... Really easily!"
Roxie muttered something she couldn't repeat under her breath, as she lifted a glass of something dark brown to her lips, draining it silently. She let out a breath of relief, setting the glass down on the stage floor, just outside the marked leader platform. "Now Nate, what do the rules say about being beaten by a gym leader? More specifically, does it say you are entitled to a badge at this point in the competition?"
"It doesn't say I'm entitled to a badge," said Nate. "But it does say I'm entitled to a rematch!" he shouted.
"You're entitled to a rematch during gym hours. It's after 8 PM now."
"Doesn't matter! You owe me a rematch!" Nate protested, loudly. "You're going to cite the rules after that BS?!"
Roxie sighed. She stepped off the leader platform, crossing the mere foot between her and the amp beside her. In the lifted, leather-padded lid of the amp controls, six slots dedicated for healing Pokemon were filled with five of her Pokeballs. Beside it, entrenched deep in the velvety insides, a tray full of long and thin Poison Badges gleamed in the green light of the spotlight. She grabbed her Pokeballs, lifting her lengthy sweater just enough to tuck the Pokeballs into the utility belt on her shorts.
"Listen," said Roxie. "I beat you fair and square. No tricks, no levels higher than you should have. I played by regulation rules and your starter collapsed in the first five minutes. I'm not going to have a rematch with you, we're closed."
"No! Rematch! Right now!" Nate shouted.
"You don't have any Pokemon. Scram. Go heal."
Nate's face turned a boiling red. As his face tensed up, seething with silent rage, his teeth ground together with abandon. With a Pokeball clutched in his hand, he tried to articulate something his words were sputtering to come out with, but he couldn't come up with it. His fit of rage reached a point where he just let out a shout, throwing his arms out in defeat. He turned and hustled across the gym floor, hastily walking away. Once before he reached the middle of the gym, he turned, making the same, angry and incoherent gesticulations with his arms.
"You'll see me again!" Nate shouted. "You won't forget my name! Nate! You'll hear from me again!"
Roxie continued to sip her drink, watching as Nate hastily walked out of the club. Her eyes wandered up to Hilbert, watching as he passed around him and opened the back door, slamming it and heading up the stairs.
Once the door had fully shut, Hilbert took a few steps forward into the gym, walking tentatively through the open space.
"Busy afternoon?" asked Hilbert.
The straps on Roxie's guitar slipped over her head and shoulders. She stepped around the loose black cables that hung from the guitar, turning and setting the guitar in a stand beside the amp beside the platform. She brushed a few hairs out of her face, taking her now empty glass and quickly hopping down the steps that led down to the point on the gym floor.
"That's the one guy I've seen all day. Slow for a summer day," said Roxie, moving across the gym floor. A wall of knee-high concrete barricades divided the sides of the club from the space that was actually gym, covered in graffiti and old concert posters, directly in front of her path. Her long, leathery boots hung off of her legs as she walked quickly, her long sweater swaying around her hips. Behind her, Koffing floated along, drifting out in front of the stage and passing beneath the green spotlight, before disappearing into the darkness of the gym roof. The whites of his eyes glowed the same dim, milky color, the cracked poison symbol beneath his round body glowing faintly.
Hilbert stopped in the center of the gym floor. He looked up to the stage, past the green-tinted lights, past the haze of smog that Koffing emitted, looking to the back of the stage. Over the brick wall, a long, tattered and old gym poster hung down, wafting gently through the air. The solitary emblem of Pokemon gyms had been printed on.
Roxie had hopped over the barriers, and had reached the small bar on the other side. From a tray of ice just beneath the bar, she removed a can of cold brew, popping the lid and filling the empty glass in her hand.
"Guys like that make me crazy," said Roxie.
"In his defense, you do beat them easily," said Hilbert. He watched his feet, keeping his hands stuffed in his pockets and shuffling in place awkwardly.
"Yeah? Well, that sounds like a personal problem," said Roxie, turning from the bar, a small spring in her step as she approached the barriers again. She hopped over them, keeping her drink overhead and being careful as not to tip the glass, taking a victorious drink from it when she came to the other side.
As Hilbert stood in place towards the center of the gym, Roxie approached. He avoided eye contact, continuing to stare at the ground, listening to Roxie approach. It was near impossible to avoid her once she had gotten close enough, getting incredibly close to him. It forced him to look up, making eye contact with Roxie.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, finally getting a response from Hilbert as he seemed to flinch, raising her eyes to her and taking a deep breath.
"Yeah."
"Yeah?" asked Roxie.
Hilbert swallowed silently.
"Ready to do a show tonight?"asked Roxie, cutting the momentary tension.
With the question hanging in the air, Roxie took a long sip of her new, freshly-poured drink. She looked down past Hilbert as he thought silently, draining her glass.
Hilbert seemed numb. He was looking down past Roxie, like he was looking through the long sweater that covered her body. In his current stance, he seemed to waver, like he was becoming more and more distant from reality. He bit his lip, unable to find the answer.
Carefully, Roxie's arm reached up to Hilbert's side. She grabbed for his arm, snapping him out of his ever-distancing gaze, getting him to blink and readjust to the reality around him. When his eyes refocused and found her, Roxie gave a gentle smile, looking into his eyes. Her hand rubbed his arm gently, feeling how tense he was. Hilbert gave a passing glance to her hand, and as he did Roxie continued to watch him, her smile faltering somewhat.
"Hilbert..."
"What?" asked Hilbert.
"Happy birthday," she grinned.
The words seemed to hit Hilbert sideways. He winced, visibly going numb again as he thought about what Roxie meant.
"Roxie, I need to wait on tonight. It's just... It's just too soon."
It was Roxie's turn to go numb. Though she tried to hide it, where he rubbed his arm she found herself slowing to a stop. She tried to keep her smile up, rubbing his arm some more, but every time the cold realization hit her she slowed dead in her tracks. After fighting it, her smile completely faltered. A sad look came over her as she looked towards the ground.
"I... Are you sure...?" Roxie asked, quietly. "I mean, we can always reschedule... But..."
"There's... There's something else I have to do tonight..." said Hilbert.
Roxie looked up to Hilbert, her eyes filled with confusion.
"What is it...?"
Hilbert took a few steps back from Roxie, watching her, staring into her eyes as she stood there and he backed away. In the near silence of the club, the thumping of his sneakers on the floorboards was the only thing any of them could hear. As he backed away from Roxie, she seemed to glow like a ghost, the blacklight making her hair and eyes glow a dim, frosty blue. The freckles and other imperfections in her skin glowed among the darkness of a healthy complexion. The blue stripes on her sweater glowed among the non-glowing purple stripes, matching the glow of her boot soles.
"I... I'll talk to you later..." said Hilbert.
Roxie watched from the end of the gym's floor. The green glow of the stage created an unusual haze around her. Just above her, Koffing drifted in, groaning at a murmur's level as he watched Hilbert with Roxie.
On Roxie's features, the unadulterated sadness had turned mute. Something seemed off. She didn't even flinch when the door made a loud, echoing slam, lost deep in thought.