Snippets

One was cold and aloof, the other rough and uncouth. In the end, would I be worthy of either love?
---

It sucked being an insomniac.

That was the brilliant revelation I made approximately one year after my sleeping troubles began.

I often found myself reliving the same memory in my dreams, a pleasant recollection filled with the rush of excitement and tension of uncertainty, the anxious, bubbly giddiness that could only come from the world's greatest form of collaboration -- Pokémon battling.

It was always the same feeling. Bright lamps blazing against my skin as four colors -- heavenly kings of purple, orange, blue, and pink -- tried in vain to bar the way to a vast, echoing throne room where that girl dwelled. I always swallowed before facing her, feeling Butterfries brush the inside of my stomach. The wild-eyed one, the girl who danced with dragons, the Champion.

My future.

It was always that final moment that woke me, the one where her Haxorus heaved one last sigh before collapsing from exhaustion, a towering dragon felled by my thorn pod. The dream was a constant reminder of the last time my heart had hiccuped with pure, unadulterated joy. It ruined me. No amount of adrenaline in my veins could match that thrill; no victory could ever taste quite as sweet again.

Something stirred next to me, interrupting my thoughts. I recoiled from a strange feeling, the presence of a stranger in my bed. A small pool of fair hair nested in my pillow, gentle classics pouring from a pair of well-worn headphones. A sigh of relief escaped me. It was only Elesa.

I ran a hand through my girlfriend's short blonde locks, taking care not wake her. It had been a while since she had left Unova to model Kalos' latest trends, but I had grown accustomed to sleeping alone in her apartment. My fingers traced downwards, absently brushing her cheek where dark strands once lay. I missed her old look a little, the one with longer hair, thick Mareep wool coat and familiar blue and yellow two-piece -- the one that reminded me of when I met her a year ago.

I bit my lip. That sounded horrible, like I was some possessive monster obsessed with keeping things in a permanent state of sameness. I knew Elesa was busy with her responsibilities as a gym leader-slash-model. I didn't mind the late nights or spotlights or even the occasional trip to another regions. Change was something that came naturally to her, like cutting her hair or putting on a new dress. She made it seem so effortless. Sometimes I wished it would come with more of a warning.

---

Is it my fault?" I asked, gently toying with her slender fingers, long and bare. Her hands were raw, scrubbed clean and left unpainted -- her most honest feature, and they were always at arm's length.

"No," she replied coolly, "there's just something missing."

Her nails scraped lightly against the cool of my anxious palm, winding outwards until our fingertips touched.

I didn't want what was coming next. I wanted to grab her hand and pull it close. To never forget her beauty, her touch, her grace. I couldn't let go. I /wouldn't/ let go.

"I'm not-" She silenced me with one last kiss. Warm and empty - passionate, yet meaningless. It was our relationship, an excuse not to talk but simply to feel. It was everything I needed to know from her end.

"Goodbye." She whispered, chair sliding back. My hands still hung limply in the open air. I hadn't even noticed her touch slip away.

I watched the small of her back forlornly as she walked to the door. The fluid motion in her shoulders as she slipped out.  I wanted to cry out, but the words lodged in my throat. Swallowing her name felt like breathlessly choking. It hurt so much tears began to streak down my cheeks.

There was nothing I could do. It had been coming for long time.

---

"Is that it, lover boy?" Virbank's gym leader rewarded me with a venomous scowl. "You called me out here to bitch about your perfect model girlfriend walking out on you? I thought you wanted to have fun?"

She was loud and abrasive and rude. She teetered on the edge of her stage, uncrossed legs revealing a pair of dark shorts underneath her over sized striped sweater. She couldn't be lady if she tried. Even her name - Roxie - was violent.

But she happened to be the closest friend at the time, and that's all that mattered.

---

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes. "You're so shallow. I bet you think love's just a word that makes your porcelain little princess happy."

"I am /not/ shallow." I scoffed.

"You are and I can prove it. Name five qualities about me!"

"You're always loud, always obnoxious, an entitled little kid, loud aaaaand..." You struggled for a fifth one. "You like girls?"

The Poison-type gym leader looked at you dubiously.

"Wrong, wrong, older than you, still wrong aaaaand..." She chuckled, mimicking you. "Completely wrong."

A sly grin stretched across the white-haired girl's face.

"It just shows how much you know." She jeered. "If I rolled that way I'd have /at least/ twelve supermodel lovers."

"Fine. If you want to be that way, name five things about me!"

"I won't."

"That's not fair!"

"Of course it is. I'm man enough to admit I don't know you instead of half-assing some answers." She smirked, trying to stifle a second round of laughter. "Me, like girls!? Pffft."

---

Her words stung like Beedrill venom, burrowing through my skull, searing my already heated veins. I was lost in a battle of bitter retaliation, gripped by the urge to scream and lash out against the pain. I swallowed back the tears that were threatening to spill out; the last thing I needed was to give her another reason to laugh at me. I wasn't sure exactly when, but something in my gut told me the argument had stopped being about Elesa a long time ago.

"I'll stand by what I said earlier. You're such an entitled brat."

"And you're a pain in the ass."

"I wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't what, Nate?" Roxie spat. "Wouldn't expect a stupid, flat little /kid/ like me to know anything about wanting to be with someone. Wouldn't expect a rockstar who gets looked at every day could get lonely, huh? Is that what you think?"

---

"Why do you think Elesa picked you in the first place?" She sniffed. "Because when you walked through that door a year ago, you were still /real/ --  someone who'd actually care about us and not the people on stage!"

Us.

---

"Go back to Nimbasa, Nate. If you really want to spend the rest of your perfect little life with a beautiful doll, go make up with your princess. Tell her you /love/ her. It'll happen again, you'll see."

"But," she prodded my chest with her forefinger, "if you want to try living something real, you know where to find me."

The door to the Virbank City Gym slammed shut. My head still reeled as the lock clicked with finality.