CHAPTER 333

Cecilia got Temperance's number the moment she'd been allowed to leave the party. Her pursuer had needed to run and nearly beg for it, hissing in hushed whispers to not humiliate herself in public that she'd dye her hair blonde and not silver so she could get Cecilia to bite. The Unovan had just smiled and nodded, appreciating the feeling it gave her for the first time that night. She didn't care much for Temperance, but as Emilia had warned, it felt good being desired to the point that she nearly had to break her calm and collected public persona to get her.

So had Cecilia heeded Emilia's warnings and decided to cut whatever this was going to be with Temperance?

No, not exactly.

What did it mean, to be at the top of society? It meant constant, endless parties and meet-and-greets, where your presence was a commodity and your absence a scandal. The weight of every conversation bore the pressure of silent judgments, each smile a calculated maneuver, each laugh a transaction. To climb higher meant more eyes watching, more expectations to fulfill, and less room for missteps. It was a life where leisure became work, and every relationship was a performance staged for an audience.

Perhaps she was letting her trauma shine through a little bit. This was, after all, a simple gathering in Temperance's Hearthome penthouse filled with other coordinators and whatever other jobs they held who were part of her retinue that followed her around constantly. From one look at them, learning each name and face that she would most likely forget come morning, Cecilia could tell these people were actually close friends who could mostly be themselves around each other. It was just that she was new, and since they all competed for Temperance's favor, Cecilia was a threat. Someone their idol had met just a day ago and who was already getting invited to these exclusive gatherings they'd worked for months or even years to get into.

Cecilia crossed her legs on the velvet couch and sipped on her mimosa. There were around twenty people here, give or take—Temperance's closest confidants, some of whom had their Pokemon out and about. There was a Vivillon chatting with a Lilligant under the sun's rays on the balcony, a Squawkabilly perched on a chandelier overhead, a Flareon lounging on a beanbag with Temperance's Dragonair snuggled against it for warmth. On, and on, but that wasn't what she was looking at most of the time.

Cecilia observed the blonde laugh and smile as one of her male friends nervously wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close for a picture that he'd no doubt post on his socials. He liked her, Cecilia guessed, yet it was her that Temperance kept glancing at. Once again, their eyes met. Temperance kept the stare going for one, two, three seconds, until she glanced away and focused on the picture they'd just taken.

She hadn't been looking at the camera, her friend complained.

"How long are we going to stay here?" Emilia asked by her side. She was clearly cross, eyebrows struggling not to knit together. Her body was tense; it had been a while since Cecilia had seen her off balance.

"Have you assigned me a time limit?" Cecilia discreetly whispered back, her mouth hidden behind her glass as she stared at her. The sweetness of the orange juice and acidity of the champagne mixed together perfectly.

"No, it's just that—Legendaries, this is making me want to tear my hair out." She'd just been about to do it before remembering that it would have humiliated her and wasted an hour of work. Emilia took a deep breath and eyed Cecilia's drink; she had vowed not to imbibe any alcohol should 'things go south.' "You know, when I was first starting out, being here… it was my dream," she whispered and glanced around the penthouse. The windows were so large they might as well have been the entire wall. "And now it's just—it's just this."

Temperance had needed little convincing to let Emilia swing by. It had just been a matter of calling her, telling her to let her in or she wouldn't show up, and then ignoring her until she'd relented.

"Enjoy yourself," Cecilia said. "Isn't this an opportune moment to further your career?" When Emilia's face soured, Cecilia's smile flattened. "I suppose you've come here for me, not for them. Sorry."

The apology helped her find her usual calm again. "I just don't want to see you get hurt again, Cece." She leaned forward, grabbing a handful of delicate hors d'oeuvres from a nearby platter, the tiny pastries crumbling slightly between her fingers as she spoke. "But at the same time—I don't want to hold you on a leash, because you've been on one your entire life. So it's tough."

"No matter what happens with her," Cecilia glanced at Temperance again, "I wouldn't get hurt. I don't actually care about her."

"But you see how that's bad too, right? Using her?" Emilia munched on her snacks, then swallowed before continuing. "Don't you want to… I don't know, not get tangled up in this crap?"

"She's using me as well; she went after me because I look unique and she enjoys looking at me. It's mutual."

"Meh. It always starts with no strings or feelings attached, and then what? I'm pretty sure she's into you anyway; she's been staring daggers at you. A mix of daggers and wanting. You aren't making any friends here."

"Who cares?" She stopped herself. "No, not who cares. I just don't want these people to be my friends. There's nothing wrong with them; I simply didn't come here to meet new people. Here, look at this."

Between the idle chatter of the party, Cecilia waited for Temperance to look at her again before she sipped on her glass and wordlessly beckoned her with a single finger, the simple motion somehow cutting through the countless conversations she was a part of. The coordinator's eyes darted around her friends for a moment, as if she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and she then excused herself. Cecilia pursed her lips.

"Are you really doing this?" Emilia sighed.

"I don't know much about her," Cecilia said. "This is a party, isn't it? I ought to ask her about herself."

Temperance's hair was a little darker today, looking nearly identical to Grace's shade to Cecilia's eyes. She'd come without the glitter on her cheeks that looked like freckles, as if to challenge Cece and show her that she wouldn't fold just because she'd asked a little forcefully, but the Unovan wasn't bothered. There was time.

She'd asked that same boy to follow her—Ronaldo, Emilia whispered in Cece's ear. A Paldean from a minor house who had graduated from the Mesagoza Academy recently. Who was desperate to put a ring on Temperance and to bring her back to his country. The Squawkabilly was his—he fancied himself a bit of a flying type expert. It was a common tactic, to bring an ally with you whenever you were about to enter a conversation outnumbered in one of these settings. Cecilia was glad she had Emi to remember everything about these people.

Cecilia tried giving him a perfectly innocent smile when she stood up and looked down at him. She could sense his Squawkabilly's sharp glare from above like needles against her forehead. Her fake smiles most likely still needed practice.

"Emilia Lussier," Ronaldo respectfully said, nodding at her. "And… pardon me, I didn't quite catch your name?"

"Cecilia."

His eye twitched. "Cecilia…?"

"Cecilia," she said again. "No need for anything else. Temperance, I was wondering if we could have a chat? You invited me here after all; it would be considerate for you to check on every guest." Cecilia paused. "Unless you were expecting me to come after you?"

"I was just getting to you. You aren't the center of the world, Cecilia," Temperance retorted—a clear effort to hurt her that failed as much as a pebble thrown by a child would succeed in destroying a building. "I can make time for you now. Should we sit?"

"Of course." Cecilia smiled and paused, a hand slowly sliding over her own thigh. "Send him back; you don't need a babysitter."

Both Emilia and Ronaldo exchanged wide-eyed glances, their brows lifting in unison as their mouths parted slightly. Temperance linked her arm with the Paldean's and stuck closer to him.

"And why would I do that?" she asked.

Cecilia sipped on her glass and placed it back on the coffee table. "Then don't. I'm leaving. Let's go, Emi."

Temperance thought it was a bluff at first, but when Cecilia walked out the door, she called out behind her. Loudly. The sound cut through the idle discussion of the penthouse, and over twenty pairs of eyes were stuck to Temperance like moths drawn to a flame. More if you counted the Pokemon. The desperation was like a drug to Cecilia, but she didn't even glance back. She'd just been about to walk out with Emilia—who at this point looked extremely displeased—when Temperance grabbed her wrist from behind.

Like always, she blinked first. Cecilia looked down at her flushed face, her skin tingling with glee.

"Fine," Temperance said. "Let's talk, but—you have to send her away too." Temperance looked at Emi.

"Excuse me?" Emilia balked.

"It's one for one. It'd be an equal exchange—"

Equal exchange.

Equal exchange.

Cecilia's heart throbbed as the words percolated in the confines of her skull, being hers and hers alone to enjoy. Temperance and Emilia kept arguing in hushed tones, but she was certain the former had no idea the torrent of endorphins and warmth she'd just unleashed in Cecilia's system. The fact that it was unintentional just made it so much better. But—

"No. Emilia stays."

It'd be best not to get carried away and let Temperance get leverage, especially when she already had a favor to ask.

Emilia exhaled a huge sigh of relief, putting a hand above her heart while Temperance stewed in her own incompetence, fists clenched beside her legs. She knew she should have said no; she knew there was no good reason to entertain this farce beyond her own desire, but Cecilia looked down at her and grazed one of her clenched hands with a lingering finger, and the last thread of self-restraint within Temperance collapsed like a fading star, the very last embers smothered by a single touch. Cecilia gave her a triumphant smile, declaring her victory, and that was the end of that.

Few came to 'rescue' Temperance as they made their way back inside; all were rebuked by the woman herself. So back they were, on the couches that now seemed so much more comfortable, with Temperance's Dragonair shooting her worried looks from its beanbag, tightening around the Flareon who grumbled uncomfortably.

"So," Cece began, "thank you again for inviting me here, Temperance. It's been quite the party."

She rolled her eyes. "This? A party? It's just where me and my friends hang out." Speaking of her friends, Temperance couldn't help but make herself small at their piercing gazes. They'd have many questions for her after this, Cecilia was sure. "It's not a big deal."

Emilia's eye twitched. "I mean—it is. It's the first time you've invited someone you've barely met."

"Sometimes, there's just a spark, don't you think, Emilia?" Temperance stated more than asked.

"That's what I do wonder about," her fellow coordinator said, crossing her arms. "Why Cece and not… I don't know, anyone else at that play?"

Emi shot Cecilia an apologetic look, but the Unovan knew she hadn't meant it in an insulting way. She was simply invested in the answer, just as Cecilia was, despite knowing parts of it.

Temperance scoffed. "Have you seen her?"

"I have eyes," Emilia said. "You know plenty of attractive people."

"Now you're just being obtuse; you see how unique she is. How she strikes importance into your heart the moment you set your eyes on her." Temperance made a mild gesture Cecilia's way. "Either way, looks are only part of it. It's how she interacts with me that's interesting."

"Ah. I get it." Then, she shook her head. "I mean, I don't get it—but I understand what you mean."

Temperance nodded, then leaned forward a little further that was needed. Cecilia didn't give her the glance she no doubt wanted. "When do you think the last time someone… disagreed with me was among my friend group?" she whispered, eyes yearning. "Talked back to me? It's been like two years!"

"That's because if—you put so much pressure on them to be perfect; I've heard of it! You've excommunicated someone from your group for not being up to your standards. You cultivate that culture!" Emilia countered.

"Hm, yes, that interview you had with Yuki and uploaded was very cute," Temperance said, though Cecilia knew she meant it in a demeaning way, "I hear you're still friends."

Cecilia was a little out of her depth here—there was more history between these two than met the eye. Temperance seemed to… not be threatened by Emilia, but perhaps to think of her as a Carvanha nipping at her heels in hopes to see her fall. What Cecilia knew, however, was that Emi was and had always been a massive fan of Temperance. Sure, she'd stopped idolizing her as this flawless, cold, and calculating goddess of performances, but she still watched all of her content religiously and routinely gushed about her skills as a coordinator.

"We are. But anyway—you could have more of what you want if you weren't such a social tyrant," Emi said.

"If there's no risk in pining for me, then how will I know you're worth a damn?" She shrugged with a smirk before glancing toward her friend. "Take Ronaldo, for example. He's a handsome man. Good family even if he lies about their importance in the grand scheme of Paldea's politics. He's a little dry, but there's a funny quality to that. There's a cute, shy side to him because he has next to zero experience with women and he has to push himself to even bring himself to touch me, and seeing him brave that fear is endearing. I could see myself dating him for… I don't know, a month max, maybe."

Emilia nodded along, though Cecilia couldn't see the appeal of a man at all. Or any other girl who wasn't Grace, for that matter. "He's too… vanilla for you, I guess."

Temperance snapped her fingers. "And it's not really his fault. I've just had too many Ronaldos in my life. I got bored of them when I was fifteen."

"I thought you never dated," Cecilia interjected.

"I'm good at secrets, and the group's tightly-knit, so it never got out beyond rumors. Dear Yuki was a bit of an exception—not that I actually dated her. I knew she had a crush on me, and she got a little pissed off when I didn't reciprocate," Temperance said, staring daggers at Emi. She stood her ground regardless. "So that brings me to you, Cecilia." The Unovan didn't react, instead continuing to stare into Temperance's eyes. "Again, beyond how unique you are, you look at me like I'm… worthless." Her face flushed. "You don't even look at me, you look past me, and that makes me want to matter to you."

"I barely know you," Cecilia said, slightly confused.

"See?!" Temperance shivered in her seat, but her face blanked once she realized how loud she'd been. The coordinator turned toward one of her friends and snapped her fingers. "Um. Sandra, a drink for the three of us, if you would?"

Emilia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Cecilia, she's basically asked you to date her."

"I know."

"So?"

"I have something to ask you, Temperance," Cecilia did not sidestep the topic as much as she leaped across it. "I've been trying to develop a new battling style recently. One mixed with plays and such…" she went on to explain the blueprint and framework of what she thought the endgame of her new style would be like, all of which was new to Emilia as well. "Here is the thing, though. The Conference is in less than a month. On my own, I won't be able to develop it enough to perform."

The sheer glee in Temperance's eyes told her she'd made a mistake—she had given her leverage, real leverage, for the first time since they'd met.

"And what does that have to do with me?" the blonde smugly asked as her friend brought three more mimosas for them to sip on. "Do you, maybe, have something to ask?"

Cecilia considered saying no. Telling her that perhaps she'd just wanted her input on the idea and nothing else, but if she said no and Temperance didn't blink this time, then she'd have to come crawling back to her. Who else with as much experience in contests and who was a coordinator of her level could Cecilia ever get access to?

Unacceptable.

"I need you to help my Pokemon and I train. There's overlap in plays and contests, so I believe you'd finally be of use to me for something other than looking like my ex-girlfriend."

The truth was, Temperance didn't really look like Grace at all beyond the hair and maybe the shape of her face, but the words were effective enough to make Temperance's fingers tremble around her slender glass.

"Cece…" Emilia muttered. "That's a crazy thing to say—"

"No, no, it's fine," Temperance said through a trembling breath. "I'd be willing to accept—I can clear my schedule tomorrow, even. It's not like I have a Grand Festival to prepare for." Unlike the Conference, that tournament was canceled and would only be back the following year. "But you forget yourself, Cecilia. You need me. Who else are you going to ask?"

"Uh, me?" Emilia said.

Temperance laughed—a hearty chortle that had her nearly doubling over. "With all due respect, Emilia, you do not hold a candle to what I can impart on Cecilia. In fact, yes, I believe you would only hold her—hold us back. I think this needs to be a one-on-one lesson. The distractions you would bring are unnecessary."

"Excuse me?"

"And think about it—you're a rising star. I'm not about to give you all of my tricks." Temperance shrugged. "I'm sorry, but it would be better if it was just us." The triumphant grin she sported contradicted her apology. "You can come pick her up when I'm done with her, though—"

Emilia rose from her seat, face red with anger. "Cecilia. We should go." A moment stretched into a second, then a few, then five until Emi's eyes met Cecilia's, and realization dawned on her. "Oh."

The Unovan felt her friend's pain, and it made her stomach knot. "I'm sorry, Emi; I need this."

A stare could convey as much as a thousand words. There was mistrust—an idea that she needed to be there, or Cecilia would slip and fall into Temperance's arms and latch herself onto her. Pain at the mild betrayal was secondary, but it was there. For a moment, Cecilia thought she'd storm out and leave, and she was pretty sure Emi herself thought she'd do it, with the way she peeked at the door like it alone would bring her liberation, but she sat back down and closed her eyes, as if to soothe herself back to a stable calm while Temperance's triumphant smile and the high of victory faded.

"I get it," Emilia grumbled. "It's whatever. Just don't come crying if you ever get hurt."

Honestly—

Part of Cecilia wouldn't have been against getting hurt again. At least it meant she would have moved on sufficiently enough to feel something.

—

When you were rich, truly, extravagantly rich, you could commission a secret underground arena built just for yourself with a dedicated man on staff to maintain it when it was used. There was a lot of money to be made in the coordinator business in Sinnoh. Not only did they have access to the same sponsors trainers had, but money prizes for contests were far larger and they happened far more frequently than the, at most, eight gym badges you won in a year as a trainer. Combine that with Temperance being a massive content creator who had launched a beauty product company last year for both people and Pokemon that her fans had swarmed toward, and it was fair to say that she had the kind of opulence that was rare in this country. She wasn't as rich as Louis' family had been, for example, or Emilia's still was, but she did have money to throw around while still being able to live in luxury. Of course, in Unova, she'd be a minuscule fish in a very big pond.

They didn't linger in small talk much—not that Temperance didn't try to pry about Cecilia's life. To keep her under her thumb, Cecilia needed a carrot and a stick. The carrot, well, was Cecilia herself, or at least the idea of finally obtaining her before she went and fled to Unova. When Emilia had brought up that Cece would be leaving yesterday near the end of the party, Temperance had said she wouldn't let a little distance stop her and that airplanes existed for a reason. She'd stopped when Cecilia had glared at her for daring to be that forward and hadn't brought up the idea again. Cecilia bet she was still letting it smolder within her.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The stick? It was actions such as these. The threat that one day, she would leave and never come back, leaving her forever wondering what could have been.

"So, Cecilia." While the Unovan had come dressed casually, Temperance had again come wearing expensive and revealing clothes that failed to garner any attention. "I genuinely believe your play idea is good, even if there are a few kinks to sort out. I had never heard of a trainer actually putting that amount of effort in their battles beyond Fantina! So lo and behold, I went and took a look at your Gym Battles last night to see if there was a foundation we could work on." Her face twisted in sheer horror and disappointment, and she gestured at Cecilia as if she wanted to grab her and shake her. "What is wrong with you?!"

"What? I know it's not my best work, but it got the job done for a while," she deadpanned.

"Not your best work? Even if we count the last two which had some things of note, there was no individuality to anything you did!" Cecilia wanted to smile at that complaint. If only she knew. It was true that she had just… mimicked Grace rather than strive to find her own path against both Byron and in her second attempt against Wake. "But you had a good idea with the play thing, so it's still salvageable. Thank God you asked for help before it was too late; you'd be useless without me."

"You wish," Cecilia said. "So tell me."

"Er, first, the good. Your Talonflame and your Slowking have potential. Your Golurk, a little less so, but it's still there. The rest of your team would have been lost causes without us crossing paths." Temperance snapped her finger. "The bad? Literally everything else."

Cecilia laughed, eliciting a surprised smile from Temperance. "I know right?" she chuckled.

"The way you battle feels like you're trying to… convince yourself that you are more than you are. It feels like looking at someone who's desperate, yet who's hidden it behind big explosions so she can still feel big and strong."

"There's truth in that. I was dealing with a lot of issues."

"Obviously. Do you take me for some kind of amateur? Psht." Temperance raised her already-short skirt, revealing five shrunken Pokeballs attached to a strap around her bare thigh. "Made you look," she boasted in a sing-song voice.

Cecilia's nose wrinkled. "What a petty trick."

"There's more of that where that came from." She winked before tapping her Pokeballs. "Aw, you stopped looking already."

"Behave and I might stay for a few hours after this," Cecilia said.

Her eyes shone with desperation. "Really? Okay—before we start talking about your Pokemon, let's talk about you. You said you want to make a statement about yourself through these fights, battle according to your mood, and so on and so forth, and that's good. Battles are the ultimate form of self-expression for trainers, and there's so much wasted potential in your community that it pisses me off." She sniffed haughtily. "If you battle in a boring way, I'll think that you're boring in turn. The same goes for coordinators."

And her standards were high enough for people to be desperate to prove themselves to join her group despite failing time and time again.

"At least you're attempting something better now. You're lucky you caught my heart before I saw your battles, or I never would have given you the time of day," she added.

"I suppose I am," Cecilia had to admit.

"But! Here's the deal about what you want to do. It's really fucking complicated and convoluted. I mean, the amount of time you'd need to change and reset or severely change the field to make it work is crazy, but that's where your caveman urge to make your Pokemon as strong as possible comes in handy. It makes it easier to rip things apart." She hummed in contemplation for a second. "Turning your orders into some fancy narration type of thing is interesting, but battles are fast. You can easily get lost in the weeds of the statement you're trying to make while your Pokemon are getting rolled. As for your voice, I can teach you how to make it a tool. It's all about practicing with pitch and your larynx. The Conference is on the fifth… it's going to be tight; you're lucky you can train with me. If you want to be ready, we'll have to see each other every day to train."

"That is an acceptable arrangement, even if I'd appreciate it if you didn't look this happy."

Temperance rolled her eyes, smile unfading. "What's up with you? I mean I know about your ex, but you've got a beautiful catch throwing herself at you and you keep ducking. I've never been with another woman before, you know? You should just give up on her and indulge."

She was pushing her advantage too much; Cecilia needed to knock her down a peg. A single step was all it took to close the distance, and Temperance froze like a Deerling caught in headlights. Cecilia's gaze lingered, intense and unwavering, as she leaned in just close enough for her breath to ghost over Temperance's ear. "Careful," she murmured, her voice low, teasing, dripping with power. "We both know you have leverage, but you wouldn't want to forget who's really in control, would you?" Temperance's breath hitched with a choking sound, and for a fleeting moment, the air between them crackled with an unspoken tension—half challenge, half surrender. "You're certainly helpful, but I do not need you. I could leave and go back to Emilia, and I'm sure I'd be able to at least hold my own in groups. It wouldn't be ideal, but I'll be going to Unova hated by half the nation already, good performance at the Conference or not."

It was mostly a lie, but it worked. A meek, miserable nod was her only reply.

Honestly, she was so fucking easy.

"Wear fake freckles tomorrow," Cecilia ordered. She pushed her back a little harder than she needed to, and Temperance wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

"Hmhm."

"Come on now, get your thoughts back in order; we shouldn't keep wasting time with these worthless games."

"I was—I was going to ask if there was a Pokemon you wanted to work with first." She cleared her throat, as if to reset her own tone. More confidently, she continued, "your Pokemon need to have tools to make themselves shine, and only Talonflame even has an inkling of that so far."

"Hydreigon," she said immediately.

"Hm. A tough but fair choice. Probably the hardest one you could have made, really. I thought you'd ease into it. Err… your Hydreigon is… tamed, right?"

"Hm?"

"I don't have to watch for danger?"

Ha.

Hahahaha! Cecilia's laughter burst out of her like an unstoppable wave, her body doubling over as she clutched her convulsing stomach. Tears welled in her eyes as each laugh became more breathless, more wild, spilling out in gasps between uncontrollable fits.

Really? One of the best coordinators in the region, scared of Zolst?

"It's not funny!" Temperance yelled.

"Oh, Legendaries." She exhaled, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. "I haven't laughed like that in months. That was such an unexpected and pathetic thing for you to say."

Her eyes widened. "Pathe—Not everyone can be a fucking brute like you. Your Hydreigon looks like some wild uncontrollable Pokemon every time he fights."

"The truth is, I have had issues with him recently; he tried to mimic killing me a few times." Temperance looked like she paled—it was difficult to tell. "But the worst is behind us. He might scare you if you annoy him, but—"

"I think we should stick to my Dragonair today, then," she cut in, shuffling uneasily at the edge of the arena. She grabbed her Pokeball and clasped it tightly. "I've seen how you use Dragon TE, though it's crude at best. You cloak your Hydreigon in it to weaken attacks before they hit him, and that makes its already tough hide nearly impossible to penetrate unless he's hit by something that can see through the fakeness, like fairy or dragon, or an opponent's firepower outclasses yours." Cecilia nodded; she'd already been certain of that second part, though she'd never tested it out exactly. "Every type of energy interacts within the same system, which is why you can mix and match them. Basically, you're puffing up your chests and saying 'you can't hit me!' and it works."

"It's fake. A trick."

"It's bullshit," Temperance snorted. "It makes you realize that the world's a whole lot more bullshit strung together with a bunch of tape than anything else, but it lets you toy with it as well, which. Is. Fucking. Incredible. That's why I'm a coordinator. That's what gets me up in the mornings."

Cecilia couldn't help but see flashes of Grace in that passionate speech, but now she knew she was just seeing things. Anyone would sound excited at the prospect of telling someone about their passion.

She bitterly sucked in air through her teeth. "I wish I knew what got me up in the mornings."

Temperance's eyes fluttered at the brief moment of weakness afforded to her, and then grinned, her face sharpened by ambition. "With a little bit of luck, this'll be it. That's what living means. You find what's your fire in life, your one flame, and you shove your hand in it. You grab onto its very essence, and never let go even if it burns. Everything else can come later. At least that's how I did it." It looked like she wanted to say something else. Like she wanted to ask another question, but she didn't. "Anyway, I'll start for now. This is a little trick I learned in my first year, and it's the basis of everything Dragonair does, so keep your eyes peeled."

With the Pokeball she'd been holding, she released Dragonair onto the flat, rocky field. The blue-scaled wyrm lazily stared around itself and then glared at Temperance, eyes lit with none of the gentleness its species was known for.

"I know we trained earlier today already," she said. "But this is for… well, this is Cecilia, actually. A new friend I made recently that I want to date." Dragonair rolled its eyes while letting out a judgy whine. "Yes. Another. But this one's different; I swear she's going to last for more than a month if I get her!"

"Could you not talk about me like some prized item?" Cecilia sighed.

"My bad. Things can get out of hand between us two; you'll have to forgive us. Anyway, 'Nair, can you give us your little attention-grabbing trick? I'll let you have a sip of gin later."

Dragonair's eye twitched, and it instantly took to the air without another complaint. Its flight was one of reverence and awe-inspiring silence, almost reminiscent of Cynthia's Togekiss. It made Cecilia's trainer heart warm to know that even Coordinators looked to her for inspiration.

"Atta' girl," Temperance whispered to her Dragonair. "Focus, Cecilia."

"I am." The reply came quiet and breathless.

Her eyes were glued to the hovering dragon, her body elongated to its maximum length as she fluttered the wings on her head. They took an eerie light that Cecilia couldn't help but look at.

One second, the air above her was still and lit only by the bright ceiling lights.

The next, it erupted into a pulse of draconic energy. Light bled from Dragonair's form in sharp flashes, weaving through the air in smooth, hypnotic arcs, illuminating the space like a living storm that crackled with a singing roar. Cecilia wanted to sear the image into her mind, to imprint it upon her eyes so she would only be able to see Dragonair when she closed her eyes—it was nearly hypnotic, and yet they were just that. Lights. For thirty seconds, they spun, stretched and roared around the room, carrying with it the smell of scorched earth.

"Show off." Temperance's voice was so quiet beside Cecilia that she nearly missed it. "They look pretty, but that's just draconic energy that she made hers by arranging it in pleasing configurations. It kind of looked like aurora borealis, didn't it?"

"It did," Cecilia muttered, though she couldn't see the color. "It was beautiful. Genuinely."

"It doesn't have to look this pretty with yours—that took me at least a year and a half to perfect. It's not like you're going to have judges hounding you if it looks like the sky's uncontrollably on fire."

"I would like it to be on fire," Cecilia said, "but I would also like it to be as pretty as yours one day."

Temperance drew a sharp breath. "Thanks. Uh, anyway, this is just a basic trick. You said you wanted these attacks to last, right? First we gotta teach your Hydreigon how to let that energy linger in the air even when it's back in its ball—"

"Then you have to teach us how to make it get everyone's attention."

"Hmhm. Which TE are your Pokemon most familiar with?" Temperance asked. Cecilia had the answer to some of these, like ghost with Lehmhart but others were a tossup. Talonflame, for example, was just as good with fire as she was with flying. "So long as there's no fairy in there, you mix those to dragon so they can move it around, and then you've got six Pokemon the audience can't help but look at. Of course, it's easier said than done—dragon energy's tough to work with, even if some TEs have an easier time. Each Pokemon has to have the right mixture, because what x might be able to use, y might not, but you also can't dilute the dragon TE too much, or you've got useless energy soup on your hands. It's also tougher when you have six Pokemon to worry about at all times with switches instead of one or two for the entire thing, but figuring that out is your job, not mine."

"I'll manage," she declared for herself. She had to.

"Now, Dragonair. Show that to Cecilia one more time will you?"

—

Cecilia hadn't planned to stay with Temperance this long, but training had run late, and now she was back at her spacious penthouse. Seeing it empty in the evening was night and day when compared to the party yesterday. The Unovan herself had never trained as intensely as she had today, never pondered the way type energy worked as coordinators often did. Temperance was a good, but ruthless teacher—she was relentless in quizzing Cecilia in the mixing and matching of different energies and working backwards with how exactly she thought Dragonair had made a certain move. She was reminded of her many tutors back in Unova, which she didn't know how exactly to feel about.

"I'm going to take you to see more plays, since one isn't enough for the kind of show you want to put on," Temperance said, bringing some expensive bottle of wine back in the living room with two glasses. She poured a few drops of the red in one of the glasses. "Taste."

Cecilia spun the glass around and inhaled the rich, fruity smell before taking a sip. "It's good. Though I've never been one to fuss over wine."

"Well it cost a fortune, so it better be." Temperance smirked, and poured them two glasses. "I've booked another play in the city in two days—one with a lot of scenes I think will be of help to you because they use Pokemon for it instead of artificial, human techniques. Of course, what you want to do is orders of magnitude more than that, but it's a start."

"How many tickets?" Cecilia asked.

"Two."

Ah. She was excluding Emilia again.

"Fair enough. I'll have to tell her about it, then. Thank you for the help—genuinely. It'll make a distant project into a reality."

Her teacher sat down a little too close for Cecilia's tastes, but a simple glare shooed her away. Temperance bit her lip. "Uh, anyway. If we're spending time together not in secret like my past partners, it's going to trend online. I don't want to brag, but I'm one of the most famous people in the country."

"I know that already?"

"Pfft. You never know with you trainers. You wouldn't know the number of snotty kids who challenge me just because I have a Dragonair."

"We would do that," Cecilia acquiesed with a smile. "But it… doesn't matter. Rumors, gossip, whatever it brings. I don't care."

"Hm. You obviously do care; look at your face."

Cecilia hadn't realized she'd been grimacing at the prospect. She hid her face behind her wine glass and took another sip.

"It doesn't matter. We aren't together anymore."

"I've seen plenty of people who struggle to get over their ex," Temperance said. "And every time they say it doesn't matter, it does. Not that it bothers me, I mean, I'm going along with it." She pointed at her blonde hair. "Believe it or not, but I'm not just good at talking; I'm good at listening too. We can talk about it if you want."

"Careful," Cecilia muttered. "Don't push your luck."

"I said if you want. No need to make murder eyes at me." Temperance crossed her legs and downed her glass in one go. So little self-restraint. "That hits the spot. I mean, I did look into it and read the statement you put out, but now that I saw how in love you still are with her, it reeks of PR. Sounds to me like she—"

"Stop."

"—left you, maybe? And you loved her still, but she didn't want to be with you. I mean, there are rumors of Grace Pastel and Maylene Suzuki dating. I say rumors, but it's all but confirmed at this point. She moved on so quickly, huh? She's not even bothering to look back—"

"Enough!"

Cecilia gripped Temperance by the collar and pulled. She whimpered, and the glass she'd been holding went tumbling down the couch, and then shattered against the ground. She held the coordinator close, face contorting with barely controlled rage. Imagining the two of them together—she couldn't—she couldn't yet she had dreamed of it ever since Grace had revealed cheating on her.

"Shut your mouth and be quiet," she ordered. "You've burned a lot of accumulated goodwill tonight; don't think I won't still leave you whenever you bother me too much."

Temperance's skin glittered with a nervous sweat; her skin was flush with blood, even up to her ears and down to her neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Cecilia let go and grabbed her own hand as what she'd done dawned on her. "No. I'm—I'm the one who's sorry." What was she even doing? Getting violent with someone? "I don't usually do this. I—I should leave—"

"It's fine. I'm the one who intentionally pushed your buttons," Temperance quickly cut in, smoothed out her top. "I wanted to provoke a reaction—and it was fine. I liked it. Being scared."

It wasn't fine. She should never do this to anyone. Cecilia cradled her face, feeling tears well up in her eyes that never fell.

"She really did a number on you, huh?" Temperance murmured.

"I hurt her too. So many times. But it's too late for take backs, now. I'll never hold her in my arms ever again. Never even see her again, beyond maybe the occasional passing glance whenever we cross paths."

"...I can try to make you forget about her," she tried, taking her chance to scoot herself closer. "I can try to show you what it's like to date someone else. To make you think of me instead of her."

"You can't."

"I said I can try. I didn't say I would succeed."

Temperance's hand went to touch Cecilia's face, and it traced the long scars from Jupiter's Skuntank. She'd had her stitches taken out recently. The contact felt cold and devoid of meaning.

"Tell me about her," Temperance said.

So Cecilia did. In a rare moment of weakness, she told Temperance everything, from the moment she'd met Grace properly in Floaroma to all of their adventures and times together for hours on end as they slowly got tipsy on her wine. She amended a few parts, of course. The classified information she couldn't go over, along with the way Grace cheated on her. In the end, she came out of the story looking like the main cause of their relationship collapsing, but it was… whatever. She wasn't about to compromise Grace just so she could feel better about herself.

"First relationships often end up in disaster," Temperance said with a saddened smile. They were leaning against each other now, though the blonde was doing ninety percent of the work. "Mine ended because I got jealous about my boyfriend's skills as a coordinator and blew up at him. I couldn't handle the fact that he was better than me when we were first starting out." She laughed. "Ah, man, I remember. It was before I settled on Temperance for my name."

Cecilia blinked, then stared at her. "Is it… a stage name?"

"No, it's my actual name that I'm in the process of changing legally. Only a few people know this because most actually just don't bother to check, or bother bringing it up, but my actual name right now is Pamela. Pam, for short."

Cecilia couldn't help but laugh, and both women chuckled for a few seconds. "One of the most successful coordinators of our age," the trainer snorted. "Pamela."

"There's a reason I changed it. It never felt—it never made me feel right in my own skin. It took me like eight months after I started my career to settle on Temperance, and oh boy, was that name big shoes to fill. You know, people hear it and it's just…" she outstretched her hand, as if she was reaching for the stars, and she snatched them. "They think you're going to rock their world. So it's tough when all you have is a Cottonee who only knows how to do fancy powder moves."

"Ha. I'd bet." Cecilia's fingers intertwined in Temperance's hand. Hers was sweaty, and the Unovan's was not. "Is that a common thing? In the few contests I've been to, you see a lot of those."

"It's like the first trick any rookie with a grass type learns. Make your powder moves glow certain ways by infusing them with different TE—most judges swat down that type of stuff. They would rather see something botched and unique than the same cookie cutter stuff over and over, but most rookies don't want to risk humiliating themselves on stage by fucking up."

"You know, it's a shame there are no more contests this year. I'd sign up for one."

"You'd do terrible."

"I know. It'd be fun, though," Cecilia said. "I need to go see Fantina battle as well, since her Gym is going again."

"Hey. You know what else would be fun?"

Temperance turned toward Cecilia and made yearning eyes at her. Cecilia could smell the wine on her warm breath—Grace never drank. She could see how eager and expecting Temperance was—Grace's eyes would be closed or barely open. Temperance herself slowly leaned forward—Grace would have gone in quicker.

Cecilia placed her index finger on Temperance's lip before she could get too close. "Temperance."

"You're ruining the mood," the girl said behind her finger.

"I can't like you. Not romantically, at least. I can see us being friends, but I won't fall in love with you."

"Ow. That genuinely hurt more than I thought it would—mood ruined," Temperance sighed and leaned back. "You know, you wouldn't be my first friends with benefits, but it's like—meh. I want to try to make you fall for me."

"Will you?" Cecilia asked.

"I want to."

She made Temperance shiver with a piercing stare that practically seized her by the throat. "This is not a rhetorical question; it is a request. Make me fall for you." Cecilia wasn't certain she would ever be able to stop loving Grace, but if she could find a girl she liked just a little bit, then maybe, just maybe, she will have cleared the first bump in the road. "Until then, we won't be dating."

"Come on. If you want me to make you fall in love, then we have to date. Doesn't have to be exclusive and all. I tend to get possessive, but I can share with Emilia Lussier."

"What? Emi? I'd never date her."

"Damn. No hesitation, huh? You're pretty ruthless—not that I didn't know that."

"She's my friend. I don't hurt my friends—at least not consciously," Cecilia corrected herself. "It doesn't matter what she might think."

"Pretty sure she wants you."

"I don't want her."

"Music to my ears," Temperance smirked, once again sneaking closer. "Now, can I kiss you?"

"You can try," Cecilia sighed.

Temperance leaned in, and their lips met. It was underwhelming. She was a good kisser who fought for control until Cecilia bit her lip and made her whimper with a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Yet, Cecilia felt nothing, so she pushed Temperance down, closed her eyes and imagined Grace under her.

Finally, her heart was alive in her chest; her veins flared with warmth and blood; she found herself smiling against Grace—Temperance's lips as the girl's voice leaked out and she wrapped her arms around Cecilia's neck.

There's my fire.

The next time, she'd ask her to turn off the lights.

—

"You were up there late."

Back when Cece had first met Emilia, she'd never have thought that her friend could have so much suspicion and ire in her voice. Little meek Emilia, turned into a strong and independent voice that rarely let others trample upon hers.

"You didn't have to actually come pick me up," Cecilia said. Emilia walked next to her as they made their way toward the nearest Center. "I could have stayed."

Emilia exhaled. Her eyes were half-closed under a streetlight. "What happened up there?"

Well, for one, Cecilia was certain Temperance would have to wear a scarf tomorrow, but Emi didn't have to know that. "We trained for a good while—Temperance is an excellent teacher who I'll be seeing basically every day, now." She waited to gauge Emilia's reaction, of which there was none but a nod and a warning to not get too dependent on her. "Then we went back to her penthouse and discussed life over wine." A pause. "Long story short, we're dating now. She'll announce it to her fans tomorrow."

That got a reaction, however subtle. Her time with Grace had long taught her to watch her friends' body language, and while she was nowhere as good, she caught the sharpness of her next breath and and flattening of her lips. She waited until a lonely car passed them by to continue.

"I figured there were good odds of that happening," Emilia said. "I just didn't expect it to be this fast. You two don't even know each other—you literally met three days ago."

"Sometimes things happen fast," Cecilia said.

"Do you even like her?" Emilia asked. Never did her tone rise, but the judginess was impossible to miss.

"Not at all, and she knows that. I'm trying to communicate with her, at least. Learning."

Her friend let out a long sigh and threw her head back. "This is a horrible idea."

"I don't think so. I can end it at any moment, and she'd understand. So can she. There would be no hard feelings."

"I'm just saying that Temperance… isn't… like, I have a bunch of girl friends I can introduce you to if you need someone."

"There's nothing wrong with her. I've actually learned a good amount about her; she's more than meets the eye."

"I—obviously I know that. No one can be their online persona twenty-four seven. I'm just saying that if you're so desperate to date someone else, she's not the girl you should be looking at. Here, Yuki, for example—"

Her tirade was interrupted by a text on Cecilia's phone. She'd forgotten to put it on silent.

Temperance - I miss you already babe.

You - I don't. Stop messaging me, Pamela.

Temperance - Cece, we're dating. Girlfriends message each other. Also, don't call me that.

You - I don't care. Message me again and I'm blocking you until tomorrow.

The message got a heart react under it, which made Cecilia squint at her screen and smirk.

"I'm going to try things out with her. It is what it is. Now, if you have something else to say that perhaps pertains to your likely attraction to me—"

Emilia raised and shook her hands in a mild panic. "Legendaries, no! You're pretty and all, but no. I have—a lot of other people that are flirting with me that I could probably get with at any time." She let out a nervous laugh. "I mean, not a lot. A decent amount. Uh, like three. Vincent, Lena—"

"I believe you."

"—Raine. I just don't think I can handle one right now. Anyway, you're my friend. I would never look at you from that angle."

"What about Temperance, then?"

"I mean, she's pretty too. I did have a crush on her when I didn't actually know what she was like, but that's gone."

"Then there's no problem," Cecilia declared with a smile and a clap of her hands. "Don't worry, I know I'll be with her every day, but if I ever feel like I'm growing dependent, I'll let you know."

"You probably won't be able to tell, Cece," she said. "And you should tell me about what you feel before things start going haywire."

"That's fine by me as well."

"Then we're in agreement."

"This won't be an issue?" Cecilia asked. "Because if it is and it's going to disrupt the already-fragile group, I can always br—"

"It's fine. I get it; I'm not gonna get in your way. Just keep me updated on everything, and it'll be fine. I will."

"And you're sure about it this—"

"Yes! Fuck, Cecilia, I'm not made of glass." Her tone rose slightly. "I told you I only cared because I don't want you to crash and burn."

"Okay. Thank you."

Well.

Cecilia thought that could have gone a lot worse, all things considered.

A/N: There was also supposed to be a Grace POV in this, but it would have been too long because I was busy this week (probably like 15-18k words), so it'll be split.