Hello! This is my first ever attempt at a pokéfic so please bear with me as I continue with this story. Any constructive criticisms are welcome, I want to enjoy writing this as much as you enjoy reading. As far as how updates will be, I won't be following a strict schedule since this is purely a hobby but I won't be dropping this story anytime soon.

Disclaimer: Starting from this chapter onward, I do not own the Pokémon franchise in any way.

"Ladies and gentlemen, trainers of all ages," the announcer exclaimed as he stood tall on a podium. "I am proud to announce our new Champion of the Unova Region, Harper Moore!"

The stadium exploded into a cacophony of applause and cheer as Harper waved to the crowd with a bright smile. He was proud of all he had achieved during his journey and fight. He looked back to his team of Pokémon, all wearing the same grin he had on his face. Harper's ace Pokémon, Lucario, had the biggest grin in the group while crossing his arms, acting cool for the audience. The crowd's cheers grew louder with each chant of his name.

"Harper! Harper! Harper! HARPER! HARPER! HARPER!"

Harper covered his ears, the cheering growing louder and louder for him to bear. The crowd's voices began to blend into a mishmash of noises until they turned into a deafening BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP.

Harper immediately woke up in a hypnic jerk, accidentally falling off the side of his bed. He winced in pain as he rubbed his right shoulder and adjusted himself to sit on his bedroom floor. He leaned on the side of his bed to catch his breath as the alarm rang. Harper leaned over to his nightstand and opened his phone up.

ALARM - 8:30

DISMISS SNOOZE

"Damn it, it was such a nice dream as well."

He turned off the alarm, throwing his phone behind his back onto the bed, still sitting on the floor. Why did he dream of winning the Pokémon League? He knew that he recently bought a copy of Pokémon Black 2. Was the gameplay really that meaningful to him to dream about it?

"That's hilarious. My first dream in years happened when I actually enjoyed something."

Already bitter about his life, Harper stretched his back, grunting with each vertebra popping. Feeling rejuvenated, he glanced at his DS and remembered his play session the other night.

He bought the game long ago, only managing to find the time to finally start it last night. Harper chose the same starter he did in the prequel, a Snivy. Grass types were his favourites; he always followed that choice each game. The farthest he went ingame was when he found a herdier captured by Team Plasma behind the flo-something ranch. Harper began to reach for his phone when it started to ring.

"I wasn't expecting a call this early," Harper thought as he picked up the phone and read the caller's name. The name "DIRECTOR GALE REAGAN" stood out, immediately causing Harper to pick up the phone in record time.

"Oh hey, Mr. Reagan, is there a reason for an early ca-" "DON'T YOU 'OH HEY' ME!" Gale yelled through the speaker, causing Harper to recoil and stretch his phone as far away as possible.

"WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW!? WE'RE ABOUT TO START FILMING IN TWO HOURS, AND THE EQUIPMENT ISN'T EVEN OUT YET! GET YOUR LAZY ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!"

His phone cuts off soon after, leaving Harper in a daze.

"Shit, filming started today?" Harper quickly opened up his calendar app, only to feel a sense of dread.

TODAY:

AUGUST 15, SORT EQUIPMENT IN WAREHOUSE

TOMORROW:

AUGUST 16, "CRAZED GUNMAN" FILMING TODAY

How in the world did he swap the days together? Harper questioned his memory but realised he was only wasting time. Gale was one mistake away before firing him on the spot. Harper dressed in his work clothes and ran out of his apartment, racing to his car and driving off to the freeway.

Film production was something Harper had always wanted to take part in since he was a child. The ability to take an idea and make it real on the big screen was incredible to him. He wanted to participate in that process, helping someone achieve their goal of creating a movie that millions would watch and enjoy.

Harper's dream was to be an actor, but multiple failed attempts in auditions created a wall between him and his goal. He ended up taking the role of Best Boy in a couple of B-list movies before climbing his way to the position of Key Grip in major motion pictures. While he was satisfied with his job as Key Grip, Gale Reagan was a hassle to work with and made Harper reconsider his career.

Harper drove through LA's congested traffic as he cursed himself for living in such a crowded city. He had to go to the middle of nowhere and sit in the heat of the desert sun for god knows how long, only to drive back home tired in the dead of night.

He groaned to himself, preparing for the nightmare that was Gale's upcoming lecture that was bound to occur the moment he stepped foot out of his car. The traffic began to open up, and Harper stepped on the pedal, speeding off down the freeway.

With only 20 minutes to spare, Harper made it to the movie set, and just like he predicted, he saw Gale storming to his car.

When he opened the door, Gale began screaming, "YOU'RE THE LAST ONE TO ARRIVE. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE YOU'RE THE DAMN KEY GRIP HERE FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

"W-well, Mr. Lewis," Harper stammered, "I had some scheduling is-"

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY EXCUSES, HARPER!" Gale scolded as his face began glowing red, "YOU'RE LUCKY I'M BUSY WITH OTHER STUFF RIGHT NOW BUT KNOW THAT ONE MORE SLIPUP AND IT'S GOODBYE TO YOUR JOB!"

"Y-yes, sir, Mr. Reagan."

Gale sighed to himself, exhausted from yelling. "Jesus Christ, I can't believe I deal with this bullshit all the time," he muttered, just loud enough for Harper to hear as he walked back into the set.

It took every fiber in his being to not argue back, lest he wanted to leave with a cardboard box in both hands. Harper shuffled over to the trucks, preparing himself for manual labor.

Hours passed by, Harper struggling to keep up with the high demand for equipment and how frequently he needed to change their positions. Scene after scene, with gunshots and screams flooding Harper's ears once every couple of minutes, soon became dull.

It wasn't until he saw Gale whisper to the assistant director. The moment the assistant director yelled, "LLLUUUUNNNCCCHHHH!" Everyone on the set stopped what they were doing and immediately assembled at the food truck that had arrived a few minutes ago.

The berating from Gale left Harper with an upset stomach, so he decided to take some carrots and ranch from the craft service station. Sitting down at a nearby bench, he silently began eating his light snack and thought of what to do once he had his hands on his DS.

Cheren would be an easy gym leader, thanks to his new Pokémon, and Route 20 would be a breeze. As Harper began thinking of what to do in Virbank, he felt a tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, he came face-to-face with the director himself.

"What're you spacing out for? I need you to do something."

Harper stood up from his bench seat, stating, "Sir, the lunch break is still ongoing."

"Shut up and follow me," Gale snapped as he walked away.

The director approached the trucks that Harper had to unload with little assistance and opened the one he was instructed not to empty.

"This is all the explosives we'll use for the next scene. We'll have them go kaboom on an enemy tank as our star races to his car."

"But sir," Harper retorts, "explosives need to be handled by the Special Effects Superviso-"

"Aren't you the equipment guy, though?" Gale interrupted, "GET IT DONE, HARPER, OR I'LL MAKE WHAT HAPPENED THIS MORNING LOOK LIKE A TEA PARTY. NOW MOVE IT!"

With a disgruntled "yes sir…" Harper picked up the explosives shaped like C4 and walked to the mock tank.

Harper muttered curses as he attached the "C4" to the underside of the tank. He began thinking to himself as he reflected on his lousy day. "Fuck Gale for not listening to my side of the conversation. He's always cutting me off, and I'm not even the right guy to do explosives."

Harper stood up and continued to place explosives on the other side, still thinking to himself. "Hell, I'm not even qualified to be holding this. Sure, it's not an actual C4, but it can still kill someone as swiftly as the real thing. I wouldn't be out in this desert heat if I won those auditions back then. I'd be in an air-conditioned vanity van, drinking ice-cold Coke while reading a script in peace."

Harper then began placing the explosives on the backside of the tank. "This movie makes me hate being a Key Grip. The moment this movie premieres, I'm looking for another casting audition."

As Harper placed the last couple of explosives, he overheard a conversation in the distance.

"Wait, the explosives are already placed?" The Special Effects Supervisor questioned as he walked towards the director.

Gale answered back, still facing the tank, "They already have, and they're ready for the next scene."

"But sir, I was supposed to handle them," the supervisor responded, "Only an authorised individual, like me, can handle or move them. No one else here has that permission."

"It doesn't matter now. The director retorted, "What's done can't be undone."

He glanced over to the supervisor's hands with curiosity, "What's that in your hands, anyway?"

"Oh, this is the detonator, sir," he explained.

"When we start filming, I'll be pushing it at the right moment for the fullest effect and to ensure that it explodes at the right distance from the actor."

"Yeah, yeah, the usual stuff," the director said, snatching the detonator from the SFX Supervisor's hand. "It's not primed, right? So if I just press i-""SIR NO DON'T PUSH THE BU-"

Upon hearing the supervisor scream, Harper tried to step back from the tank, but it was too late. A flash of white and red caught his eye, followed by a sudden burning sensation in his front, and Harper only knew darkness.