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 of 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.