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Star Performer
ContentsA crushing defeat in the final round of Hoenn's Grand Festival threatens to send rising star Coordinator Alex into a downward spiral until his manager suggests an alternative - a holiday in the Kalos region! But it seems the surprises don't end there, as what was meant to be some peaceful R&R ends up being far more eventful than Alex had ever imagined.
0 - The End (below)
Arc 1
1 - In Between
2 - The Hook
3 - The Rush
4 - The Beginning
5 - Respite
Arc 2
6 - Roots
7 - Lessons in Losing
8 - Obligatory Training Sequence
9 - Crossed Wires
10 - The Night Of Nights
10.5 - Interlude I
Arc 3
11 - The Highs, The Lows
12 - A Business Proposition
13 - A New Old Friend
14 - Whispers
15 - An Offer You Should Probably Refuse
14 - Whispers
15 - An Offer You Should Probably Refuse
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Chapter 0
The End
Chapter 0
The End
Confetti cannons boomed at all corners of the stadium, sending their payload scattering over the battlefield below, millions of scraps of coloured paper fluttering and eddying in the last vestiges of the ocean breeze. The sky was a classical study in twilight, purples and golds lifted straight out of a painting, a smooth evening gradient broken only by the occasional wispy cloud. The setting sun cast a long shadow where it was blocked by the high walls of the stadium, plunging almost the whole field into a strange, false darkness. Somewhere, a band began to play, a rousing, triumphant march that pierced Alex’s heart like a knife.
Sound faded away. The roar of the crowd, the heavy percussion of the brass band, the uneven thumping of the confetti cannons, even the announcer’s voice all faded to a dull groan, allowing the noise of his heartbeat to take over. Thud, thud, thud. Thud. Alex felt his pulse begin to slow as the adrenaline that had allowed him to push this far evaporated. The numbness that he had felt since the battle began was waning now, giving way to bitterness.
Somehow, Alex forced himself to smile, waving graciously at the crowd - which way is the crowd again? Everywhere, I guess - as the sound of his own name penetrated the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Taking a deep breath, he dragged himself back from the brink, bringing his mind back into focus. There would be time for self-loathing later.
Still, he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood as he stepped forward to receive his accolades, a long-practiced grin plastered on his face. Shaking hands with the President of the Hoenn Contest Organisation, he nodded graciously at her words of congratulations. Realising that a microphone had been thrust into his face, Alex willed his jaw to unhinge. Why was everything so difficult all of a sudden? He had lost before.
“I think all I can really say,” he forced out, surprising himself with how level and cheerful he sounded, “is that the better Coordinator won today. I’d hoped that this would be my year, being my third Grand Festival in a row reaching the final eight, but I wasn’t counting on the calibre of competition that showed up . . .” He continued on for a minute or so, fulfilling his obligations as runner-up, then, noting a subtle eye movement from the woman holding the microphone, wrapped it up succinctly by congratulating his opponent again. Feeling more than glad to be out of the spotlight for once, Alex stepped back and allowed the focus to switch back to the new Top Coordinator, a fourteen-year-old girl by the name of . . . what was it again? Maxine? Martine? Everything was slipping out of his head.
Closing his eyes, Alex took another deep breath. He would be lying if he said it didn’t gall him a little, being defeated like this on such a large stage by a child five years his junior. He had been in the game for long enough to recognise a prodigy when he saw one, though, and he realised he had been outclassed. Some people just have it so easy. Those blessed with talent make fools of the rest of us every day - no matter how hard I work to catch up, people like her are always just out of reach.
It was a complicated maelstrom of emotions that whirled inside him now: anger tempered by disappointment, wounded pride, and even a little relief, all tinged with guilt. He wasn’t angry at her - Melanie, he remembered now - but at himself, he realised. Six years he had been working towards this, getting closer every day - and he had fallen at the last hurdle.
There’s always next year. That was true, but he was sick and tired of waiting for ‘next year’. Last year, this year had been next year! And yet, he had failed once again. Gritting his teeth, Alex stared up at the rapidly dimming sky over Lilycove - past the stadium’s oppressively rising walls, past the wall of humans and Pokemon that filled the stands, even past the clouds that scudded by.
“One final time! Congratulations to Melanie Little from Slateport City, winner of the 2015 Hoenn Grand Festival and our newest Top Coordinator!”
The crowd yelled itself hoarse, and Alex bowed his head.
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