I'm having so much fun with this, it's not even funny. I wrote the last 2,000 words of this chapter in one sitting, and I have no regrets.

Thank you to Exotic4M3 for favoriting and following this tale, and thanks to WyldClaw for reviewing. I encourage more of you to give me feedback; I would like to know what I'm doing well and what I could improve on. That being said, I hope you all love this chapter as much as I loved writing it. Enjoy.

JUNE 12, 202X

The trip back to my apartment was much faster, because I had a spring in my "step" as I pedaled down the streets of Los Angeles. Even the potholes didn't bother me as much, simply because I was far too…excited? Yeah, I was far too excited to care.

Of course, with that excitement came some consternation as well. I knew full well that there were downsides to having a Silver Ticket - for instance, if someone saw a flash of silver in the air, they might seek to steal it from me. For this reason, I kept said item in the box, determined not to let the world know.

Beantown Games, the team behind the global sensation known as Pokélife, was based in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. Every summer, starting in July, the US National Championship was held there, and the opening ceremony was only a few weeks after my birthday.

Needless to say, never had I dreamed that I'd get such an insane birthday present. Even the wildest fantasies a teenager could dream up would never come close to this. And yet, that Silver Ticket stared me right in the face.

As soon as I get back to our flat, I told myself, I'll talk to Tommy, and we'll make a decision about what I'll do.

Any thought of accepting further jobs was no longer on the table. In my awkward mix of euphoria and fear, I could not have possibly focused firmly enough on catching a criminal. If I couldn't get the guy in the coffee shop with a clear mind, how was I supposed to do it now?

On the other hand, Tommy would suffer if I left. He'd be forced to keep up his half of the rent, but also take mine under his wing. I knew that accepting the offer would mean throwing him to the proverbial Lycanroc and hoping for the best.

But when you've got such a SILVER opportunity, how do you pass it up?

The dusty old apartment already seemed to belong to a different time, even if I still lived there. Nonetheless, Tommy was still at the counter as though he'd never left his seat. Most likely, he hadn't.

"You're back already?" he enquired, playing with his red hair.

I nodded. "Yep. Didn't catch the guy - I wasn't fast enough."

"Well, that sucks," Tommy muttered, taking another sip of instant coffee. "I hope you've got some good news to offset it. It's your birthday, after all."

I smiled. "Just you wait. Let me show you what I found!"

Tommy's pupils dilated, and he shifted in his seat so that he could see the game case I had.

His face fell. "It's just a game, Frank. What's so special about it?"

To answer his question, I cracked the case open to reveal the Silver Ticket.

The effect on Tommy was instantaneous. "Holy hell, Frank! You got a Silver Ticket!"

"I sure did" I responded matter-of-factly, as though I'd already gotten accustomed to the reality in which I was eligible for the Nationals.

"Are you going to enter?" Tommy asked, springing out of his seat and adopting a stance similar to that of a boxer.

"Well, I've been thinking about it," I admitted. "I probably won't, though - it would be too abrupt."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, without me, you'll struggle to put food on the table" I answered, realizing belatedly that this probably sounded a bit condescending to my roommate.

Tommy stiffened up. "And? What we've got isn't exactly food. It's just processed drivel that companies try to convince us is 'food', and I'm sick of it!"

"I mean, it does the job - ".

"You don't get it, Frank. We've got nothing left to lose at this point. It's not just the rent - everyday life sucks without more dough. Hopefully your team can win."

I sighed, feeling much like that Ancient Greek Titan, Atlas, who had to hold up the sky. The pressure on me, the determination to perform in the tournament to the best of my ability, was absolutely crushing.

"You wouldn't mind if I went?" I said eventually.

"You'd be a bad roommate if you didn't" Tommy replied. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Something's written on the backside of that Silver Ticket - want to read it?"

I guess that's the logical thing to do.

I pulled out the Silver Ticket and saw that there was indeed miniscule text on the backside, which I read aloud to Tommy. It read as follows:

CONGRATULATIONS!

IF YOU ARE READING THIS, YOU HOLD A SILVER TICKET. THIS IS YOUR PASSPORT TO THE US NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP. YOU'D BETTER HONE YOUR SKILLS, BECAUSE THE COMPETITION IS STIFF!

THEN AGAIN, YOU ARE LUCKY TO HAVE GOTTEN THIS FAR. IN FACT, "LUCKY" IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY. IF YOU WISH TO PLAY, PICK UP A PHONE AND DIAL 1-800-555-5547, THEN LISTEN TO THE INSTRUCTIONS YOU ARE GIVEN. GOOD LUCK!

I put down the ticket, my mouth having opened so widely it hurt.

"Are you going to call the number?" Tommy asked, evidently having processed the instructions far more quickly than I had. "Are you going to put your name down?"

"Well, what's the harm? If I call that number, and decide I don't want to play their game, I can always decline. Can't I?"

My roommate shrugged. "I don't see why not."

So I dialed the number, then hit the call button. There was no response at first.

"Maybe it's a counterfeit," Tommy suggested.

"Making counterfeit Silver Tickets?" I all but exclaimed. "Who does that?"

"You'd be surprised. Some people just like to troll others."

Just when I thought it might be wise to hang up and try again later (or not at all), an automated voice (which still sounded very human) made itself known on the other end.

"Good morning, good afternoon, good whatever-time-it-is! I'm the founder and CEO of Beantown Games, Manuel Virgo, and I've got news for you today!"

Tommy and I listened intently.

"If you hold a Silver Ticket, that's your boarding pass on any one flight from your current location to Boston! American Airlines, United, Delta…you name it, you're eligible! All you have to do is show the pass at the airport, and you're on a one-way journey to Boston! If you hold a ticket and wish to enter the tournament, get to Boston as soon as possible!"

I damn near dropped the phone. Tommy stared at me, seemingly in something close to shock. He probably didn't have the faintest inkling of what to say either.

We gazed at one another, mouths agape, for quite a while. Okay, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that long, but it felt like an eternity.

"You're going to Boston!" Tommy exclaimed eventually, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hold up, bro," I said. "I can't just leave you here. I know you gave me permission, but if my departure makes it harder for you to support yourself here, then I can't go. I can't."

"Frank, that wasn't a question," my roommate told me. "It was a statement of fact."

"Huh?"

Tommy reached out and grabbed both my wrists. He was slightly shorter than me, but he sure had a strong grip.

"I mean," he replied, "that you're going to Boston, whether you want to or not. You're going to play in the tournament, whether you want to or not. But I know that it's your dream, hasn't it been your dream for a very long time?"

Of course, he was right. There had been many days when I'd fantasized of taking home the gold in the Nationals, which would allow me to participate in the Global Championship. But I was getting far ahead of myself, needless to say.

But then I glanced at Tommy, and the idea of leaving suddenly seemed very hard. (Which was paradoxical, wasn't it? He wanted me to play in the Nationals, didn't he?)

"Go, Frank," my roommate all but commanded me. "I'll drive you to the airport tomorrow - it'll be great. And I'll watch the Championship even more closely."

I didn't even have a chance to consider my response, because the phone rang yet again, and the caller ID indicated that it was from Beantown Games. "I'll get it" I said automatically.

"Hello?" I asked into the void. "Is this Beantown Games?"

"Of course it is. I hope you're doing well, sir."

I was a little taken aback at being referred to as sir. To me, that was a dignified title reserved only for royalty or someone otherwise very important, and I was anything but. But there was something else too, a voice I recognized…

"Wait a minute. Are you Manuel Virgo, the CEO of Beantown Games?"

"Well, yes" the voice on the other end responded. "I apologize if you are busy right now."

This man is one of the most famous people in the world, and he's asking me if I'm busy? He's surprisingly polite for someone so prominent.

"No," I mouthed. "I'm not busy right now. What do you need to talk about?"

"You are Frank Fly, correct?" Manuel replied, his voice turning up at the end of that question.

I gasped. "What the -?"

"How do I know your name? Simply put, Beantown Games has a record of each game sale containing a Silver Ticket - you paid with a credit card, after all, so we have information about your transaction. And before you say that it's creepy, keep in mind that plenty of websites collect much more data than we do."

"Okay."

Manuel cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'd like to congratulate you personally for having acquired a Silver Ticket. That level of perseverance is hard to come by these days. You remind me of myself when I founded this company - I was the son of immigrants who came to this country with very little to their names."

I smiled. "I guess that's a compliment?"

"Take it however you will. In any case, I look forward to seeing you in Boston. The opening ceremony of the Pokélife National Championship is on the Fourth of July, with the first matches the following day. Can you confirm that you will attend?"

I weighed the question carefully. "I'd love to, Mr. Virgo - ".

"Please call me Manuel."

"Manuel, sorry. I'd love to partake in the Nationals, but I'm struggling financially right now. I live in a poor neighborhood of Los Angeles, and you know how it's been lately with the housing crisis and whatnot. I cannot in good conscience leave my roommate to fend for himself."

"Your roommate is Thomas Tompkins?"

I gasped. "How did you know that?"

"I have my ways," Manuel responded cryptically. "In any case, it doesn't matter. Your debts have been taken care of. The balance on your half of the rent, five thousand dollars? It was just a drop in the bucket for me."

Wow.

That served as a stark reminder of just how different our worlds were. I had to fight for every buck as a bounty hunter, whereas Manuel could just snap his fingers and make something happen with the mountains of money he possessed. He could blow millions on a vanity project and not lose any sleep over it. Canceling my rent payments must have been pretty trivial for him.

"Why would you do all that for me?" I asked.

"You just got lucky, I guess," Manuel told me matter-of-factly, as though the haves and have-nots were just facts of life. "Like it or not, our system of capitalism decrees that there will be winners and losers. I'm a winner, and I'm not tired of winning just yet."

"No kidding," I muttered. "I don't think I'd get tired of it either."

"In any case," Manuel continued, "if you are successful in the tournament, you'll be quite the winner. I'm sure any number of girls would want to have you - or guys, for that matter. So are you going to play?"

It had only just begun to sink in. Tomorrow, I would wake to a completely different world, one in which I no longer had to fear for my life from a financial standpoint. I wouldn't exactly be a multimillionaire, but I'd be able to live without the specter of foreclosure hanging over me, and that peace of mind was invaluable.

And when I glanced at Tommy, and saw that he was smiling, and knew that he had at least a safety net if not a hammock, I knew my answer almost immediately.

"I will play," I told Manuel. "I will."

"Wonderful!" Manuel exclaimed jovially. "I'll see you in Boston for the opening ceremony. Please arrive at Fenway Park on the evening of the 18th - that's June 18, 202X - for the Pokédraft. That is when teams will be selected."

"Is there anything else?" I asked. "Do I need to prepare at all?"

"Not really. Well, if you'd like to practice before the tournament, I'd recommend that. But other than that, you're good. Oh, and happy birthday - this couldn't be a better gift, could it?"

"I guess not."

"Very well. Like I said, I'll see you in Boston. Have a great day."

Manuel hung up after that, and I turned to face Tommy, feeling absolutely dumbfounded.

"You actually talked to him," Tommy said, another statement of fact. "That was the CEO of Beantown Games."

"Indeed it was. Our rent's been taken care of, and I could win lots of money in the Nationals too."

"Fame and fortune, huh?" my roommate replied. "Must be glorious."

"It will be," I echoed.

"So what does that all mean for today? I take it that you'll want a ride to LAX tomorrow?"

I nodded. Then, my eyes lit up as I realized something else.

"Why do you look so happy?" Tommy enquired. "I mean, besides the obvious reason?"

I grinned. "Because we can eat at Poképark Creek tonight!"

This conclusion was reached not just because Manuel had paid off my rent, but also because I'd surely receive appearance fees just for showing up in Boston. I could already taste the Tauros Mignon I'd crush at that restaurant while admiring the nature-themed atmosphere, complete with the talking Pikachu head.

Tonight would truly be deserving of the title birthday party.

JUNE 12, 202Y

A year later, I sat in a Boston courtroom, and it was hard to believe it was my special day again. My 19th birthday was far less exciting than my 18th, because I simply had nothing to look forward to.

Mr. Woods sat down in the Chief Justice's booth, wiping his forehead. "I think it's safe to say we'll be here a while, won't we?"

"Well, yeah" I muttered. "It's a long story."

"That's what they all say" the Attorney General snapped. "And it doesn't change the fact that you should only speak when spoken to in a courtroom."

"Okay."

"Besides," AG Woods responded, "I'd recommend saving your breath for what's truly important. We're just getting started here."

"Okay."

"When you first found the Silver Ticket upon purchasing a game card from GameStop, how did you feel about it?"

"Oh, I was over the moon" I said wistfully, reminiscing on the intense rush it had given me to know that I was one of the lucky few to, well, luck into the Pokélife Nationals.

"Please elaborate."

I spoke quickly, a habit I'd always been told I needed to lose. "Well, imagine that it's been your dream for years to play your favorite game as an e-sport, but you know it's incredibly unlikely, yet you get that winning ticket anyway. It was like winning the lottery, but better."

AG Woods nodded. "That's a rational reaction to such news, and so far, I'm inclined to think you acted in a reasonable manner. If only that can be said for your other actions…".

"Objection. It has not yet been demonstrated that the defendant took the immoral actions he is accused of taking."

"Sustained. The grand jury will disregard that last sentence."

The AG sighed. "Let's move on. So you talked to Manuel Virgo, and he offered you a spot in the Nationals. Did it ever occur to you to turn it down?"

"No," I said right away. "I mean, maybe."

Woods raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? No, or yes?"

"I thought about it for a bit, so I guess yes. But once Manuel told me he'd paid off my rent, I was inclined to go."

"Why is that? And why did you trust that Mr. Virgo had paid off your debt?"

"I mean, that was his voice on the phone. And when I talked to my landlord a few minutes later, he confirmed that we were covered for the next few months. More than enough time to go to Boston and compete."

"I see, I see. So you traveled to Boston?"

"You're a bit ahead of the story, Brett," I said.

AG Woods furrowed his brow. "We are not on first-name terms, Mr. Fly, and we never will be. But that's hardly the most important matter before this grand jury. So tell me, Mr. Fly - what did you do that evening?"

"We went out to dinner at Poképark Creek, just like I suggested to Tommy. It was my birthday, after all."

"Okay then. Did anything odd happen at dinner?"

"Not really. But now that you mention it, both of us were pretty drunk."

Woods frowned. "Drunk?"

"Drunk with happiness" I clarified. "Alcohol's not the only drug out there, you know. Some of them are completely natural."

"Fair enough. Is it fair to say you weren't thinking as clearly as you might have been otherwise?"

"Sure," I admitted. "We didn't drink - neither of us were old enough. But again, we were so happy that we might as well have been drinking."

There were a few chuckles from the audience, which resulted in AG Woods banging the gavel. This shut the laughter down within seconds.

The Attorney General then stood to his full height and stared down at me, as though reasserting his dominance over me. He was the human embodiment of Massachusetts state law, and I was just a lowly subject at its mercy.

"Mr. Fly," Woods asked, "is it fair to say that, knowing what you know now, you would not have traveled to Boston on June 13, 202X?"

"How do you know the exact date?"

"We have flight records" the Attorney General responded. "You traveled from Los Angeles International Airport, also known as LAX, to Boston-Logan one year minus one day ago. There is no disputing that fact."

Of course. They know everything about me now.

After a pause and a sigh, Woods asked his question again. "Would you do it all again?"

"Honestly," I said slowly, "I probably would. I still love Pokélife. But that's not to say I wouldn't make some different decisions, because I would."

AG Woods nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. You might not be in this position now if you'd thought before you acted."

That might sound like a captivating one-liner. However, a few members of the grand jury were now looking at their phones or books they'd brought in. And that's when I knew this deposition would be an all-day affair.

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