Tyson Granger hoisted his damaged Beyblade up, grinning broadly. The crowd roared, chanting his name, and all Tyson could hear was the praise being showered on him mixed with squeals of many fangirls. Looking around him, Tyson saw the people who mattered most to him: his Grandfather, his brother, his teammates and numerous friends that supported him. He let out a chuckle, no longer able to contain the giddiness inside of him. He literally felt on top of the world.
He had won. Finally, after the years of training, the sleepless nights, the countless skinned knees and elbows, the days filled with both excitement and an indescribable anxiety that always threatened to bubble over but that somehow never did, he had won. Not only had he won, he had established himself as the top beyblader in the entire world.
Later that night Tyson plopped down on the bed in his room at the hotel they were all staying at. Placing his hands underneath his head, he laid down, crossing his long legs. The events of the day finally began to seep in, and Tyson Granger smiled as joyful thoughts began to fill his head.
Just as Tyson was about to drift off into a peaceful, happy sleep, a knock on the door roused him from the incline position. Sitting up slowly, Tyson began to grumble until he realized that nothing could put him in a bad mood after what had happened that day.
Tyson opened the door a crack, fearing reporters who wanted to interview the Champion, that had been a routine for years now. Much to his delight, however, he found his longtime manager Hilary hovering outside his room.
"Hey, Hil. I was just getting ready for bed," Tyson greeted the young woman.
"Oh," Hilary replied, looking slightly disappointed. "Well, I guess I'll go, then. I don't want to bother you."
Tyson wasn't sure if it was the disappointed look on the woman's face or the fact that he was too excited now to sleep anyway, but for some reason he didn't want to turn her away.
"No, you're not bothering me at all. Come on in," he said.
Hilary smiled, accepting Tyson's invitation into the room. He sat down on the large bed and patted the spot next to him, inviting her to sit down.
"So, what's up?" Tyson asked.
"Well, umm, I just wanted to congratulate you on winning," Hilary responded, grinning slightly.
"Thanks!" Tyson flashed a grin, "I mean for a sec there I thought I was a goner. Had Chief not upgraded my blade, I would be kissing the title goodbye."
"Yeah…right…"
Tyson noticed that Hilary was looking elsewhere, her eyes appearing slightly unfocused as she glanced around the room. It almost seemed as though something was troubling her.
"Is everything alright, Hilary? Is something bothering you?"
"Me? No, of course not," Hilary denied, although her voice sounded slightly higher than usual.
"Oh, well, it certainly looks like something's bothering you," Tyson countered.
"It's nothing…"
"Come on, Hil! Tell me! What could you possibly be upset about? I mean, I just retained my championship!" Tyson nearly whooped, thrusting his fist in the air, until a horrible thought occurred to him. "You are happy for me, right?" he asked, a little nervous about the answer he would receive.
"What? Of course I'm happy for you, Tyson!" Hilary stated earnestly. "I've never been happier in my life!"
Tyson looked at Hilary intently. She wasn't crinkling her nose in that adorable way she did when she was lying, so he had to assume she was telling the truth when she said she was happy for him. What, then, could be bothering her? Why, then, would she be upset?
"It's just…never mind."
Tyson inched his way closer to Hilary, moving towards her end of the bed slightly.
"It's OK. You can tell me anything, Hilary." Tyson looked into his friend's ruby eyes, imploring her to tell him what was on her mind.
"Well, it's just that now that, now that you are an adult, you'll have all these hormones. Your testosterone levels will rise, and you'll probably get some gorgeous girlfriend and you'll forget all about me," Hilary muttered softly, almost as if she were afraid she had said too much.
Tyson glanced at his friend, taking in her sad face, her eyes filled with tears. It was so unlike Hilary to cry. Tyson found that, for perhaps the first time in his life, he didn't know what to say.
"Hilary, that won't happen. You'll always be my friend and I'll always care about you. How could I ever forget you?"
"Believe me, Tyson, you'll forget my plain looks and nasty temper when someone beautiful and kind comes along, when the kind of girl you deserve comes along."
Tyson, who never did have much of a filter, simply said the first thing that came to mind.
"I don't think your looks are plain, Hilary, and I think your temper makes you fun. A kind girl sounds boring."
Hilary looked at him, her eyes filled with something—was it hope?—but that thing, whatever it was, quickly faded.
"You don't mean that," she said, grabbing her bag as if to leave.
"Yes, I do!"
"Well, prove it then."
Tyson, who never did think before he acted, simply did the first thing that came to mind.
The young man reached over and cupped his friend's face in his hands, slowly brought his lips to hers, and full-on kissed her.
Tyson tasted the smooth strawberry flavour of Hilary's lip gloss (when had she started wearing girly stuff?) and tried to remember everything Max had told him to do, only to find that he couldn't think straight; all he could do was enjoy the simple ecstasy of his kiss with Hilary. After he awkwardly banged his nose against hers, however, he remembered Max's advice about not moving around too much at first. Slowly but surely the two young adults found a rhythm, became in sync with each other.
Eventually Tyson remembered the second step, and gently parted Hilary's lips with his tongue. She moaned slightly, and for a moment Tyson panicked, believing he had somehow messed up and hurt her, but when she replicated his move he realized he must have done something right.
Wrapping his arms around Hilary's neck, Tyson slowly turned her body around and gently pushed her down onto the bed. She ran her fingers through his blue hair, moaning softly as she continued to kiss him.
Tyson wasn't sure what to do next, having totally forgotten Max's words of wisdom regarding being with a woman. Instinct seemed to take over, however, and, panting, the young man slowly undressed himself.
"Tyson, are you sure?" Hilary asked, barely able to catch her own breath.
Tyson nodded hastily, and Hilary began to take off her top…
Hilary lay with her head on Tyson's bare chest, a small smile present on her lips. She sighed contently, then looked towards Tyson.
"Well?" Tyson asked.
"Well what?"
"Did I…did I, you know, do good?"
Giggling, Hilary rolled her eyes upwards. "Yes, Tyson…you did very good. You really are a smooth operator."
