Our hotel overlooked the beach, the boardwalk alive with noise and color. Street performers juggled under the palms, food carts hissed with heat, and waves crashed in slow rhythm against the shore. The sign for Roxie's Gym wasn't far, a converted concert hall plastered in band posters and neon graffiti, its front doors pulsing faintly to a bassline I could feel in my ribs. Her gym battles were unique in that they were held at night, instead of in the afternoon.
Skyla whistled low. "Looks like she's already warming up."
"Think she'll battle me or hand me a mic?" I asked.
"Depends," she said. "How's your stage presence?"
"Nonexistent."
"Then she'll eat you alive."
Roxie stood on the opposite side of the arena. Her wild white hair tied up with teal and magenta bands, oversized cyan-and-magenta striped sweater hanging off one shoulder, platform boots gleaming under the lights. A black bass guitar rested against her hip, covered in stickers and battle scars.
She looked up as Skyla and I stepped inside, smirking. "Well, well. The telepath from up north finally made it to my stage."
I blinked. "You've heard of me?"
"Please," she said, slinging her guitar behind her back. "The whole circuit's been buzzing about the girl who doesn't need to speak to battle. Figured I'd see what all the noise was about."
Skyla leaned close, whispering, "Don't let her get in your head."
"A bit late for that," I murmured, stepping forward onto the stage-turned-arena.
The lights dimmed until the only thing left glowing was a thin ring of green liquid surrounding the limestone battlefield. The crowd roared from the stands above, half concertgoers, half battle junkies, their faces lit in flashes of magenta and cyan. Roxie slung her spiked bass over her shoulder and grinned down at me from across the arena, her white hair catching the strobe lights like fire.
"Welcome to the Toxic Encore, sweetheart!" she shouted over the feedback of her amp. "Hope you brought earplugs and gasmasks!"
The spotlights flared as her opening chords hit, a pulsing rhythm that made the floor vibrate under my boots. The translucent limestone platform beneath us rippled faintly with every note, like it was alive, and I realized it was dissolving. The outer edge hissed as it met the fluorescent moat, fizzing and bubbling.
I smirked. "Guess retreating's not an option."
Roxie winked. "Not in my shows. You registered with 4 Pokémon, so I'll match your team size. My battlefield differs from others in a corrosive way. See that ring of bubbly liquid around the field? That's acid. Each round will see a little more of my battlefield dissolve until only a small platform remains in the middle."
I nodded in acknowledgment.
"Alright then! Let's crank this shit up to 100!"
Her first Poké Ball spun from her hand, bursting open in a surge of violet energy. Toxtricity emerged, sparks crackling from its jagged mohawk as it flexed, strumming an invisible guitar string across its chest with a metallic twang.
"Ready to make some noise?" Roxie yelled.
"Always," I murmured, pulling a Poké Ball from my belt. "Trilla, you're up."
The air shimmered, and Trilla materialized in a burst of pink light, her form elegant even against the chaos of neon and sound. Her eyes met mine, calm and focused, steady as ever.
He's strong, she noted telepathically, her voice a soothing hum in my mind. But loud doesn't mean powerful.
Let's show them grace has bite, I said.
The referee barely got through his introduction before Roxie stomped her boot twice in rhythm with the drums. "Toxtricity, Overdrive!"
Electric arcs erupted from the Pokémon's fingertips, forming a jagged lattice of energy that screamed toward Trilla. She crossed her arms and unleashed a shimmering psychic barrier. The electricity hit like thunder, shaking the air, but her Protect held firm, violet light clashing with yellow until both exploded in sparks.
Don't let him control the tempo, Trilla. Shadow Ball.
Her hands came together, energy pooling between them. But when she fired, the orb wasn't dark; it gleamed with pearlescent light.
"Wait-Trilla, that's-"
The Moonblast hit before I could finish. The pastel burst detonated against Toxtricity's chest with a sound like a cracked cymbal. For a moment, the poison-electric type stood tall, crackling defiantly. Then it dropped to one knee, sparks flickering out despite its type advantage.
The crowd gasped. Even Roxie looked stunned.
Trilla blinked, lowering her arms. I didn't even know I could do that
That was incredible! I said, still watching the smoke drift.
The referee raised his flag. "Toxtricity is unable to battle! The victory goes to Atrea Morgan and Gardevoir!"
Roxie laughed, a manic, delighted sound. "Hell yeah! I didn't see that coming, and by the look on your face, neither did you! That's what I like, mistakes that rock!" She twirled her Poké Ball back to her belt and pointed across the shrinking field. "Don't get too comfy, though. The floor melts faster every time someone hits the dirt!"
As if on cue, the limestone groaned and hissed. The outer ring collapsed into the glowing green moat with a splash. Steam erupted upward, curling around my legs like ghostly fingers. The safe zone had just shrunk by a good ten feet.
I withdrew Trilla to her ball.
"Looks like Roxie just turned up the volume," I muttered to myself as I reached for Simon's ball.
Roxie spun her next Poké Ball on one finger before hurling it forward. "Let's crank the distortion!"
The capsule burst open in a cloud of purple mist. Drapion emerged, its segmented claws snapping with a sickening, metallic crunch. Its armor gleamed like oil under the floodlights, purple, black, and poisonous. The moment its feet hit the stone, the stage rumbled, and the acid moat hissed louder, as if the creature's presence alone agitated it.
I swallowed hard. Drapion.
The sound of its claws scraping the ground dragged something dark up from my memory: the asphalt, rain, and the screams of dying Pokémon.
New York.
The Team Plasma ambush.
The moment Dakashi twisted that Drapion's neck in a single, brutal motion.
I forced a breath through my teeth and unclipped Simon's ball. "Let's finish this one fast."
Simon erupted from his capsule in a cyclone of dust and wind, his emerald wings humming with barely restrained energy. He hovered over the shrinking platform, eyes locking on Drapion's. You want me to take point?
Yeah, I said, steadying my voice. No holding back.
Roxie's grin widened, feral under the lights. "Drapion, Cross Poison! Let's see if the bug can bleed!"
The scorpion lunged forward, its claws glowing with neon venom.
Should I dodge or grab its talons? Simon's voice echoed in my mind, calm but alert.
I wasn't on the stage anymore. I was back on the street, Dakashi's cloak whipping in the wind. That sound, bone cracking like a snapped guitar string, and the spray of blood on concrete.
No, I breathed without realizing it. Don't move.
Simon hesitated. Copy. Wait, what?
The claws connected. The hit was brutal, launching him back into the wall of dissolving stone. He crashed hard, the limestone shattering beneath him.
My chest seized. "Simon!"
The fog cleared enough for me to see him pushing himself upright. His scales were scorched, his breathing rough, but his eyes were steady.
You froze, he said, voice low. But I'm still here.
That snapped me back. I clenched my fists, grounding myself in the present, in the roar of the crowd, the hiss of acid, the pulse of bass through the floor.
Then let's make it count. Dragon Claw now"
I have an idea, Atrea.
What's that?
I asked
I can't use Dig the way Zoey does, but I think I have a workaround.
Then go for it. I trust you
Simon dove headfirst before opening his maw. A wave of raw sound split the ground apart as he disappeared beneath it. Roxie's eyes flicked left, then right, trying to follow.
"Drapion, brace up! Use Toxic Spikes, spread 'em!"
The scorpion reared back, flinging clusters of glowing needles across the shrinking arena. They hissed and melted through the limestone like burning coals.
Then the ground erupted beneath it. Simon shot upward, his claws slamming into Drapion's abdomen and hurling it skyward.
Catch the drop, I ordered silently.
He twisted mid-air, wings flaring wide as Drapion fell. The moment it passed him, Simon tucked his legs in and dove. Energy surged along his tail, a blur of red and green streaking downward like a comet.
"Dragon Claw!" I shouted aloud.
The strike hit like thunder. Drapion hit the ground in a burst of shattered stone and smoke. When it didn't rise again, the referee raised a hand.
"Drapion is unable to battle! Victory to Atrea Morgan and Flygon!"
The crowd exploded in cheers, but my heartbeat stayed uneven. Simon landed in front of me, breathing hard, his tail still crackling faintly.
You went somewhere else for a second, he said quietly. You all right?
I'm fine, I lied.
Roxie laughed from across the stage, spinning her guitar around her shoulder like a weapon. "Damn, that's some bite you've got! Careful, though, the floor's running out of room!"
Another layer of the stage hissed and dissolved into the acid moat. The heat rolled up in waves, making my eyes water. Only a small circle of stone remained now, big enough for two Pokémon to stand without touching the edges.
Simon floated back to my side, wings humming low. The ground's getting smaller. You'll need someone who can fight close.
I nodded, forcing the image of Dakashi's merciless execution out of my mind. Then let's send in someone who's built for it.
I reached for Scizor's Poké Ball.
The crowd's chant rolled like thunder through the fog. Acid hissed along the arena's edge, bubbling higher as the last ring of stone thinned beneath our feet. The air shimmered from heat and vapor, the whole place smelling faintly of ozone and lime.
Roxie slammed a boot against her amp, grinning. "Alright, my toxic friend, let's melt this place down!"
Her next Poké Ball spun out in a violet blur, bursting open with a plume of magenta flame. Salazzle landed low, tail lashing as heat rippled off her scales. She grinned with a hiss, exhaling smoke that curled into the lights above.
I unclipped Scizor's ball. "Your stage," I said.
The capsule opened in a flash of red steel. Scizor dropped into a low stance, claws flexing as his thrusters flared. He didn't look back at me; he never needed to. Just one nod, subtle and sharp, before his eyes locked on his opponent. Every movement was measured, silent, precise.
Roxie struck a heavy bass chord, the sound reverberating across the floor. "Salazzle, open with Poison Jab!"
The lizard darted forward, claws glowing with venomous light. She struck fast, aiming straight for Scizor's chest, but the blow only rang off his armor with a sharp metallic clang.
The poison hissed uselessly across his plating, sizzling for a moment before vanishing into smoke. Scizor didn't flinch. His stance didn't even shift. The crowd went dead quiet for a half-second before roaring again when he delivered an X-Scissor to a stunned Salazzle. Despite being thrown back by the hit, Salazzle recovered mid-air and landed just on the edge of what remained of the floor.
Roxie blinked, then grinned. "Oh, so that's how it's gonna be? Fine! Salazzle, Flamethrower! But don't hit him. Hit the floor!"
My breath caught. "Wait-!"
Salazzle turned her head down, eyes gleaming, and unleashed a column of orange fire straight into one of the fissures Simon's Dig had left earlier. The flame vanished into the cracks, then the entire platform erupted upward. Acid vapor ignited on contact with the fire, turning the flames a deep, sinister purple...."
Waves of conflagration screamed through the gaps and shot out in vertical jets across the arena. The heat was instant and searing, forcing me to shield my face. Fractures spread under Scizor's feet as sections of the stage crumbled, stone melting into the glowing moat below.
He didn't wait for an order. He moved.
His thrusters ignited, propelling him through the columns of flame in short bursts, every motion economical and controlled. He darted between eruptions, claws slicing through smoke until he was almost on top of Salazzle.
She hissed and swept her tail, spitting another wave of fire.
Scatter, now. Double Team
Instead of dodging like one would expect, he split into 3 perfect copies of himself. They weren't the same quality as Zoey's as they remained static while her's could move independently of one another, but they did the trick just fine. Salazzle scorched the first, then the second, but this left her guard open.
Bullet Punch! I said a second before he emerged from the flame in front of her.
He struck faster than sound, a flash of light and motion, the impact cracking like a gunshot. The blow sent Salazzle sprawling, skidding across the last intact section of stone before sliding to a halt at the platform's edge.
For a heartbeat, the only sound was the hiss of melting limestone and the crowd holding its breath. Then Salazzle's tail twitched once... and went still.
The referee raised his flag. "Salazzle is unable to battle! The victory goes to Atrea Morgan and Scizor!"
The crowd erupted, the bassline of Roxie's band kicking back in like a heartbeat. She threw her head back, laughing into the mic.
"Now that's what I'm talking about! Straight-up thrash metal!"
Scizor stood still amid the flickering fires, armor steaming faintly, fists still clenched. A single breath of steam hissed from his vents as he turned and walked back toward me, wings folding neatly behind him.
Nice work, I murmured, holding up his Poké Ball. You're a damn wall.
He nodded, then paused just long enough to glance back at the shrinking platform, calculating, as if making sure it would hold another minute, then returned to his ball in a flash of red light.
The acid moat hissed louder now, eating away at what little foundation remained.
Roxie leaned into her mic stand, smirking through the haze. "You're good, Atrea, too good. But this is the finale, baby. And my guy? He doesn't do encores."
She spun her final Poké Ball once on her fingertip before tossing it up. It burst open with a flash of cyan light and a wave of static.
Toxicroak landed in a crouch, fists glowing faintly white, his reflection flickering in the acid moat below. He gave a sharp, confident grin, croaking out a laugh that sounded more like a drumbeat before flipping backward and sticking onto the steel cage surrounding the arena.
I unclipped Zoey's ball. "Alright, showtime."
She appeared in a burst of dark violet, her crimson mane flaring in the backlight. Her claws flexed as they held onto the metal wires that made up the fence. Her eyes locked on the frog across from her. About time, her thought brushed against mine, electric and hungry. Let's make this loud.
All that was left of the floor was a single pillar of stone no wider than an ottoman, stretching down into the glowing acid lake like a dying ember. I could just make out the glimmer of the PAP shield preventing it from melting. The rest of the arena was just steel fencing with a few thin catwalks above, glistening with condensation and heat distortion.
The crowd had fallen to a low hum, that kind of breathless silence that only happens when no one knows if they're about to witness brilliance or disaster.
Zoey's reflection flickered across the green moat below. Well, she muttered, her tone dry, this is cozy. Guess we'll see if those agility drills paid off.
Across from her, Toxicroak clung sideways to the chain-link fence, talons hooked between the metal links. He looked completely relaxed, swaying with the bass vibrations as if hanging off a wall was nothing new. The smirk never left his face.
Zoey's eyes glowed faintly crimson as she glanced back at me. He's waiting for me to jump first.
Then don't, I murmured. Make him come to you.
Roxie threw up a hand. "Toxicroak, Focus Punch!"
Toxicroak's right fist began to glow, blinding white and pulsing in a rhythm that matched the drums. He crouched low, then launched himself off the fence with terrifying speed, crossing the gap in a single bound.
Zoey, dodge and counter!
She leapt sideways, kicking off the pillar's edge. I noted how much Skyla's agility drills echoed in Zoey's movements. The Focus Punch missed by a long shot and slammed into the metal barrier behind her, denting it like a can. Sparks flew, the sound echoing through the cage.
Zoey landed lightly on an upper rung of the fence, claws digging in. Missed me.
Toxicroak's head tilted up, grinning, that slow, knowing kind of grin that made my stomach twist.
Then his other hand flared white.
Zoey, move!
Too late. The second Focus Punch caught her square across the ribs. The hit echoed through the entire arena like a gunshot. She went flying, skidding across the chain-link like a train on tracks. The breath tore out of her lungs as she slid, barely catching herself on one of the metal bars.
"Zoey!"
She didn't answer right away. Her claws dug deep into the steel, chest heaving. Toxicroak dropped down to the pillar, balanced and smirking like it'd been nothing.
The crowd erupted, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Roxie leaned forward, pointing right at me. "C'mon, Atrea! Don't tell me your dark type's all bark!"
Zoey finally lifted her head, eyes burning with fury. He's laughing at me.
Then shut him up.
She dropped from the fence and vanished.
For a split second, even I couldn't see her, only a faint shimmer of distortion where she'd been. Toxicroak's grin faltered as he scanned the acid below.
Then a flicker appeared behind him.
He swung a backhanded jab, but it sliced through empty air. The double he hit flickered out like smoke.
A second illusion appeared across from him, then another. A dozen faint shadows danced in the green light, each one smirking the same way, circling him like wolves.
Looking for me?
Her voice cut through his head, cold and feral. Toxicroak spun, and despite keeping his balance on the pillar, his movements were frantic now.
When he turned, the real Zoey was already boosting off the fence behind him. She surged forward with a front kick that launched him backward. But before he could even hit anything, she unfurled her arms mid-air and let out a dark pulse that shot him into the opposite fence!
His impact warped the perimeter fence, and just to be sure, Zoey used a move I'd never seen her perform before. An aura of crimson-black energy built up around her mid-air.
"That's Night Daze!" I shouted.
The wave detonated from her body, a silent, violent bloom of dark power that sent dust and heat whipping through the air. The explosion formed a shock ring that slammed into Toxicroak full-force, bouncing him off the fence and causing him to plummet into the acid below. To my relief, the "acid" didn't melt him.
I looked at Roxie with an amused smirk.
"You have no idea how difficult it is to get 50 liters of Margarita mix, let alone enough to make a pool."
The crowd went insane.
Lights strobed, smoke machines kicked, Roxie's bassist dropped a thundering note that shook the rafters.
Zoey climbed back up onto the pillar, shoulders rising and falling with every heavy breath. The crimson light around her faded until only her normal glow remained. She glanced up at me through the haze, a tired grin tugging at her mouth. Guess I'm not done evolving yet.
I smiled, chest tight but proud. Not even close.
The referee raised his hand. "Toxicroak is unable to battle! Victory to Atrea Morgan and Zoroark!"
The lights faded to a deep magenta glow as a new floor deployed from beneath the moat. The illusion of danger evaporating into harmless smoke. Roxie jumped down from her platform, pulling off her shades to reveal eyes glittering with mischief.
She leaned in with a smirk and held out a small, jagged badge shaped like a guitar pick.
"Congrats, Atrea Morgan. You survived the Toxic Encore."
I accepted it, still catching my breath. "Barely."
Roxie winked. "Eh, don't be so dramatic. You did good
From behind me, Zoey's thought rippled with disbelief. We almost died to a cocktail.
I laughed so hard I nearly lost my balance.
"Don't worry, the next round's on me, Atrea. Stop by my club tomorrow night," she said, already turning toward the mic. "It's just down the street and we're throwing an afterparty. You've earned it."
The line to Tox Jam, Roxie's nightclub in downtown L.A., wrapped around the block like a living thing. The bass thudded through the pavement, a pulse you could feel in your chest before you even heard it. Blue and violet lights washed across the wet asphalt, reflecting off the chrome trim of parked cars and the faint mist of the Pacific fog rolling in from Santa Monica Bay.
As we reached the back of the line, people started whispering. A few heads turned, and then, like a ripple, the crowd stepped aside. Trainers and fans alike moved out of the way, parting as if some unspoken rule demanded it.
I froze for a second, caught off guard.
Skyla smirked, nudging my arm. "Well, look at you. Feel like a Queen yet?"
"Not even close," I muttered, trying not to grin as we passed the velvet rope. "Maybe a duchess. Half a duchess."
She laughed, looping her arm through mine. "We'll work on it."
Two Politoed bouncers stood at the massive double doors, their skin gleaming under the purple neon lights. One wore a black vest stretched tight across his chest, the other sported mirrored sunglasses despite it being well past midnight. They croaked in unison before pushing the doors open with slow, deliberate strength.
The sound hit me like a wave.
Inside, the air pulsed with bass-heavy rhythm. Violet and electric-blue lights cascaded across a sea of people, trainers, fans, and even a few Pokémon dancing in rhythm with the music. The scent of ozone and a Glailie-fueled fog filled the air, spliced with the sharp sweetness of berry cocktails.
A pair of Noibat hung from the rafters, wings outstretched, their sonar pulses syncing with the music and amplifying every beat.
And then I saw her.
Roxie stood center stage, electric guitar slung low, her Toxtricity beside her, cords trailing from its amp sacs to the soundboard. Behind them, an Rillaboom commanded a squad of Loudred like a drumline from another dimension. Every beat they dropped felt like it shook the walls. The floor vibrated under my boots.
Roxie grinned when she spotted us. "HEY, LOS ANGELES! Give it up for our newest Champion-in-the-making ATREA MORGAN!"
The crowd roared.
I felt my face heat up instantly. Skyla leaned close, shouting over the music, "Told you! Queen energy!"
I could only laugh, caught between embarrassment and exhilaration. The lights strobed in rhythm with the next riff, and Toxtricity struck a chord that sent purple lightning arcing across the stage. The crowd screamed louder.
Roxie winked at me before turning back to the mic. "Let's melt some minds, yeah?"
The next song kicked in, an unholy mix of punk, electro, and pure chaos. Skyla grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the dance floor as the first drop hit.
And just like that, the night stopped being about badges and battles.
It was about the music, the lights, and the electric pulse of life thrumming through the air.
The bass rattled through the soles of my boots like it was alive. The crowd was a storm of light and movement, humans and Pokémon alike, dancing shoulder to shoulder under shifting waves of violet haze. The walls shimmered with holographic graffiti that pulsed in time with the beat, neon lyrics flickering between languages.
Skyla spun toward me, hair catching the light like liquid fire. "Come on!" she shouted over the roar, gripping my hand tighter.
"I'm not much of a dancer!" I yelled back, even though she couldn't hear me.
She just grinned, pulling me closer until our hips were moving in sync with the rhythm. "Then fake it!"
So I did.
I let go, the pressure, the spotlight, the lingering exhaustion from our battle earlier that day. The sound, the lights, and Skyla's laughter all blurred together into something warm and reckless. For a few minutes, I wasn't Atrea Morgan the challenger, or the girl haunted by her mother's legacy. I was just... here.
A flash of electric blue light drew my attention back to the stage. Roxie was shredding a solo, sparks erupting from her Toxtricity's fingertips like fireworks. The crowd roared as the Exploud behind her bellowed a thunderous counterbeat, each note rolling through the air like a physical force. The Loudred gang pounded their fists against massive sub-drums, eyes glowing with synced rhythm.
Roxie ended the song with a power slide across the stage, her guitar squealing like a siren before cutting to silence. The audience erupted in a mix of cheers, whistles, and a few Pokémon roars.
She tossed her guitar to a stagehand, leaned into the mic, and grinned. "Alright, Los Angeles, I'm taking a breather! You all keep that energy burning while I grab a drink with our guest of honor!"
The spotlight swept across the floor, straight onto me.
The crowd started chanting my name. "At-rea! At-rea! At-rea!"
I froze. "Oh no," I muttered.
Skyla laughed so hard she almost doubled over.
Roxie vaulted off the stage, boots slamming into the dance floor with a thud that made the speakers tremble. She marched right up to us, strands of silver hair sticking to her sweat-slicked forehead. "There she is!"
"Hi-uh-hey!" I stammered, suddenly unsure what to do with my hands.
She gave me a half-hug, half-handshake combo, her bracelets jingling against mine. "You tore Skyla up in that match earlier! Girl, that was nasty! I had to watch the replay twice!"
Skyla rolled her eyes. "You just liked watching me lose."
Roxie grinned, baring a canine. "Maybe."
She turned back to me and snapped her fingers. "Two shots of Spikemint for me and my new favorite trainer!"
A bartender, human, but wearing a Gengar-print hoodie, set down two small glasses filled with a shimmering, teal liquid that fizzed like bottled lightning.
I hesitated. "Uh... what's in this?"
"Courage," Roxie said, clinking her glass against mine. "And maybe a little paralysis if you're weak."
I laughed and took it in one go. The flavor hit like mint and static at the same time. My throat burned, then cooled, leaving a tingle on my tongue. "Whoa."
Skyla smirked, sipping hers slower. "You okay there, champ?"
"Fine," I said, coughing once. "I think my soul just learned how to levitate."
Roxie snorted. "That's the good stuff. Distilled from Oregon mint leaves and Jolteon discharge. You'll be hearing colors in about ten minutes."
Skyla leaned against the bar, brushing her hair back. "So this is what you do when you're not headlining festivals?"
"You kidding me, bird girl? This is the festival!" Roxie said, waving a hand at the pulsing crowd. "L.A. needed a reminder that music still lives. That we don't need some corporate League tour to make noise." She looked at me, grin softening. "You and your Zoroark would fit right in here. You've got that wild energy."
I smiled, tapping Zoey's ball. "She'd love this place. Though I don't think she could resist messing with the lights."
Roxie pointed her shot glass at me. "Then she belongs here. My kind of troublemaker."
Skyla chuckled. "She'd probably disguise herself as you and start a mosh pit."
Roxie's eyes lit up. "Don't tease me with good ideas."
We all laughed. For a moment, it was easy, no worries, no ghosts from Portland or experiments gone wrong. Just friends in a club built on chaos and sound.
Then the Noibats perched above us let out a synchronized screech that echoed perfectly with the next track. The crowd erupted again as the beat dropped, a tidal wave of color and motion. Roxie turned back toward the stage, shouting, "Let's go! We're not done melting minds!"
Skyla grabbed my hand again, tugging me into the throng as lights strobed over us in streaks of magenta and blue. I could still taste the Spikemint on my tongue, sharp and electric.
Maybe Skyla was right.
Maybe, for one night at least... I did feel like a Queen.
By the time Roxie launched into her encore, the club had transformed into something half-alive, walls pulsing with light, the crowd a single living heartbeat. I needed air.
Skyla must've read it on my face because she leaned close, her breath warm against my ear. "Come on. Follow me."
We slipped through the crowd and up a narrow stairwell behind the bar. The muffled thump of the bass followed us all the way up until Skyla pushed open a metal door, and the night hit us full in the face.
Los Angeles stretched out below, neon veins cutting through the dark, the Pacific a distant shimmer under the moonlight. The hum of the city mixed with the low pulse of music bleeding through the roof beneath our feet. A pair of Staravias glided overhead, their silhouettes framed by a billboard flickering with Roxie's logo.
I exhaled, finally able to hear my own thoughts again. "It's beautiful up here."
Skyla leaned against the railing beside me, her hair still glowing faintly blue from the club lights. "I like coming up here after shows. It feels... grounded. Even when everything else is spinning."
"Spoken like a pilot."
She smiled, eyes drifting toward the horizon. "Guess it's hard to let go of the sky, even when I'm not flying."
I nodded, resting my elbows on the rail. "I used to think battling was the only thing that made me feel alive. But tonight... this-" I gestured toward the glowing city, the thrum of the distant crowd "-this felt different."
Skyla turned toward me, curiosity in her eyes. "Different how?"
"Like I wasn't carrying everything for once. The pressure. The legacy. My mom's shadow." I shrugged. "For a few minutes, I could just exist. No expectations."
She tilted her head. "And what's that feel like?"
I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Free. Scary. Kind of amazing."
She smiled softly. "That's how flying feels, too."
A breeze swept across the roof, carrying faint traces of salt and smoke. Skyla stepped closer, her hand brushing mine on the railing.
"Roxie was right, you know," she said quietly. "You do have that wild energy. It draws people in."
I laughed under my breath. "You sure it's not just the Spikemint talking?"
"Maybe," she teased, "but I'm not drunk enough to mistake it for something else."
Her gaze lingered, steady, warm, and unguarded. The city lights reflected in her eyes like tiny galaxies. I didn't think; I just leaned in.
Our lips met, slow and certain this time. The noise from the club faded into a heartbeat rhythm beneath us, Rillaboom's bass echoing far below like distant thunder.
When we finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against mine and whispered, "See? Told you you'd feel like a Queen."
I smiled, breathless. "I'm starting to believe you."
Skyla nodded over to Zoey, who was sitting on the edge of the building, her legs dangling over the side. Her tail was flicking lazily as the wind toyed with her mane.
"She's been really quiet since the match, y'know"
"Yeah, that finishing move sure was something. I'm gonna go talk to her. See you back at the hotel?"
"I'll be there. Take your time, Atrea."
I approached Zoey and leaned against the railing beside her, arms folded. "You did well today."
She didn't look at me. We won, she said simply.
"Yeah," I said, watching her profile in the neon glow. "We did. But that... thing that happened with Toxicroak- what was that?"
Her jaw tightened. Just another move. Came to me when I needed it.
"Night Daze," I said quietly. "That's not something you just pick up mid-battle. You looked like-" I stopped myself.
She glanced at me then, eyes calm but unreadable. Like what?
I hesitated. "Like you weren't there. I called out to you, but... it felt like static. Like you were somewhere else."
Zoey's tail went still. For a long moment, she didn't respond. Then she exhaled through her nose, not quite a sigh, not quite a growl. I was angry. He hit me hard. Harder than I expected. I guess... I let it get to me.
"That's not like you."
No, she admitted. It's not.
The wind brushed past us again, carrying the faint sound of Roxie's crowd below, laughter, music, the crash of cymbals. Zoey's ears flicked toward it.
She smirked faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. Don't overthink it, Atrea. I'm fine.
"You sure?"
She gave a soft lip smack, that familiar, absent gesture she did after meals or naps, then finally met my gaze. You worry too much, she said, tone lighter now. I just need sleep. That's all.
I smiled, but the edge of unease lingered. "Yeah. Maybe we both do."
We stood there in silence a while longer, the city breathing beneath us. Her tail brushed against my leg once, a small, wordless reassurance.
The afterparty had been loud enough to rattle the walls, but now the silence felt deafening. I let the hotel door click shut behind me and set Zoey's Poké Ball on the counter. She deserved the rest.
The mini-fridge hummed as I pulled out a bottle of water, the cold stinging my palm. Skyla was already stretched out on the second bed, scrolling through her phone, the neon light from the sign outside painting soft streaks of pink and blue across her face.
"You make it out okay?" She asked without looking up.
"Yeah. Zoey and I talked for a bit." I twisted the cap off and took a sip. "She's... processing."
Skyla nodded, thumb idly flicking her screen. "That move of hers, Night Daze, it's heavy stuff. I'd be shaken too."
For a few moments, the only sound was the soft hum of the AC. I turned the bottle in my hands, my stomach tightening. "Sky... about earlier."
She glanced up, meeting my eyes. "What about it?"
I hesitated, heart thudding. "That kiss. Was it just in the moment, or-"
She set her phone aside, sitting up. "What do you want it to be?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The words tangled in my throat. She smiled faintly, that same patient, knowing look she always had in the cockpit.
"It's okay," she said quietly. "I just thought maybe there was more between us. If I misread-"
Before she could finish, I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze, then melted into it, fingers brushing my cheek. The faint taste of cherry lip gloss and champagne lingered as she murmured, "Come here and shut up."
I laughed softly against her lips as she pulled me closer. The bedsprings creaked, the world outside fading until all that existed was the warmth between us, the heartbeat that wasn't just mine. Her hand found mine, steady and certain, and I felt the tension that had been building for days finally unravel.
When we broke apart, breathless but smiling, she rested her forehead against mine. "Are you sure about this?"
I nodded. "This is what I want."
We kissed again, slower this time, gentler, like we both knew there was no rush. The night outside stretched on, but neither of us cared.
Eventually, we lay side by side beneath the dim glow of the bedside lamp, fingers intertwined, listening to the city hum through the window.
Skyla laughed softly. "Guess that answers your question."
I smiled, brushing a strand of red hair from her face. "Yeah. It really does."
By the time our flight descended over Louisiana, the sunset had already burned itself out behind a wall of thunderclouds. Lightning flashed far beyond the delta, its reflection rippling across the flooded plains like veins of molten gold. The windows rattled as we touched down, and Skyla stretched beside me with a groggy smile.
"You sure you're not secretly trying to hit every region just to rack up air miles?"
I smirked, tugging my bag from the overhead bin. "What can I say? I've got a thing for new skylines."
Zoey's voice brushed across my mind, dry as ever. You could've just teleported. Faster, cheaper, no jet lag.
Trilla replied softly, You always get sick when you teleport. Remember the family reunion in Michigan.
Yeah, but you shouldn't. That was like 7 years ago.
I couldn't suppress a chuckle.
Wait, you told her about that?
I kept my eyes forward, a slight grin forming.
Zoey grumbled something unrepeatable. I couldn't help but laugh as we followed the slow line of passengers out into the heavy, humid air.