“Mr…. Phlox, I presume?” An elderly suited man offered an outstretched hand, eyes scanning his subject as a Breeder might scan a newly hatched Skitty.

“Please, call me Oliver.”

“Wonderful, I’m Randall, the Stage Director for the show. Right, this way Oliver. We’re very thankful you could fill in for us,” the man barely looked back, guiding Oliver away at a brisk clip. “Elesa recommended you personally, you know.”

The suit led him down a dark hallway and into a large room bustling with activity. A dozen men and women were seated at brightly lit stations with stylists and Aromatisse fussing over them intently.

“Oliver this is Dezzy, she’ll be your stylist for the afternoon. You’ll be delivering two looks, each from the upcoming Undella Summer Collection. Dezzy will be with you every step of the way, except for the run-way, of course.” The man gave him a final glance, then turned to Dezzy. “If you need me?” He wagged a walkie-talkie in his hand and sped away.

“Hiiii, don’t mind him. He’s always this way before a show. Look at you, such big arms!”

Oliver, now seated at the station, looked into the lit mirror and smiled at the cheerful woman standing behind him. She had an amazing afro and luminous dark skin. She smelled slightly of cinnamon.

“How much time have we got?” He asked, glancing at the large clock situated in the center of the stations.

“You’re on in 30 minutes. Don’t worry,” she added, noting his brief apprehension, “Tia and I will have you done in 10,” she winked.

“Aromatisse, tisse!” An utterly floofed Aromatisse hopped to the counter and began offering Dezzy assistance as directed.

Oliver closed his eyes as they worked, allowing his head to be tilted at Dezzy’s discretion. He stiffened slightly as they removed his shirt and began powdering his chest – it was swimwear, after all. Modeling wasn’t his usual gig. Elesa “discovered” him playing water polo for Nimbasa City and confronted him about starting a modeling career. He hesitated at first but gave her his number in the end. That was months ago now. He was surprised when she called today asking if he could be in Castelia by 7:00 PM; as fate would have it, he was already in town attending to other matters. Oliver grinned, thumbing the empty pokéball in his pocket. Tomorrow, he thought.

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“This… is not going to fit, got anything bigger?” Oliver asked, incredulously.

Dezzy whistled, taking back the slip of a speedo Oliver handed her gingerly. “Let me check the rack.”

A moment later she returned and handed him the same piece in a larger size. “This was the largest stock size available, cross your fingers, there’s nothing bigger. If this doesn’t fit we can get Leavanny in here. She’s fast, but any major alterations need approval from above.”

Oliver pulled the curtain closed and changed. It was a slim cut speedo of navy spandex, the only embellishment a baby blue crown insignia stylized after a male Jellicent along the back. The fit was snug, but sufficient.

“Damn Oliver. I can see why Elesa had you on speed dial,” Dezzy grinned. Oliver blushed and averted his gaze, let’s get this over.

Dezzy led him towards the deep pulse of bass emanating from the front of the building. His heartbeat felt as if it was attempting to synchronize with it.

“Now, your pep talk.”

“My wha?” Oliver asked distractedly.

“Keep your head forward and chin up.” She pulled his face forward and lifted his chin, turning his attention away from the audience waiting just behind the curtain. “Put one foot in front of the other, pause at the end, strike a cocky pose — I know your type, should come natural — hold it a few seconds, then saunter back. I imagine this will be easier than walking on wet concrete or whatever you’re accustomed to. Just be glad men don’t wear heels, in this collection at least,” Dezzy giggled. She handed him a navy swim cap and swim goggles.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“A pose, huh?” Oliver donned the cap and goggles, adjusting the strap in a familiar motion.

“Oh! One more thing!” Dezzy handed him a red-striped beach ball. “A prop,” Dezzy smiled, pushing him forward.

Into the maw of the Sharpedo.

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The first walk felt like forever. Oliver had playfully tossed the ball to the stiff Castelia crowd and delivered a cool glance to the wall at the back of the venue. As it turns out his next “look” was a pair of white swim trunks with the same male Jellicent insignia emblazoned along the right hip. If anything, the light-colored trunks felt even more revealing than the speedo. At the end of the show all the models made one last walk in quick succession and then it was over.

Now backstage, Randall was going around to the models as their stylists helped them return to their street appearances.

“Was that so bad?” Dezzy probed, removing a Staryu hairpin from his hair as Tia effortlessly swept the blue and silver glitter from his cheeks.

“S’pose not, just glad my teammates don’t frequent these sorts of things, I’d have to go back to Galar in shame,” he chuckled.

“Is that right? Galar… thought I heard some… Motostoke? Hammerlocke, maybe?”

“Ehh Postwick.”

“Where??”

“Motostoke, I’m from Motostoke haha.”

“I’m surprised Swimmers still come from Galar at all, honestly. Last I heard y’all were riding bikes on the water,” Dezzy raised her eyebrows in mock judgement.

Before Oliver could reply Randall slapped him on the back and gave him a grin.

“Not bad for your first time,” he smiled up at Oliver. “I had my doubts but Elesa knows how to pick ‘em. I should fire my casting crew and start paying her commission.” Randall chortled, noticeably more relaxed. “The Passerby Analytics team has nothing on her.”

Oliver smiled, not knowing what to say.

“How would you like to be paid young man? We’ve got the usual pokébucks, or potentially comps if you’d rather. Since you’re out of Nimbasa City you might not have seen much of Castelia yet. What’s your interest?” Randall asked, stroking his grandfatherly mustache.

Oliver mulled it over, his plan for tomorrow at the forefront of his mind. “Actually Mr. Randall, if you’ve got access to Castelia Park, I’d appreciate the chance to see it. There’s a Pokémon I’ve wanted to catch for a long time now.” He felt the empty ball in his pocket once again; just the weight of it filled him with excitement.

Randall laughed a bit to himself. “Done. Burgh keeps a tight lock on the place, but luckily for you he’s a patron of the arts and thoroughly enjoyed your show today. As it turns out he’s the one that caught the beach ball,” he leveled Oliver with a flat look.

Oliver rubbed the back of his head, a bit embarrassed.

“Listen here, consider that Burgh’s favor. Pokémon catching, you say? Have you picked out a pokéball yet?” Randall asked, looking as if he was remembering events in his own life from long ago.

“Sort of,” Oliver started, pulling his standard pokéball from his pocket in its compact, golf-ball sized form.

Randall took a single glance at the ball in Oliver’s hand and abruptly muttered instructions over his walkie talkie. A few moments later a Leavanny appeared gracefully carrying a wooden case in her arms, offering it to Randall. He opened it carefully, revealing a selection of compact pokéballs worth their weight in gold. Oliver’s eyes widened looking over them, the PokéMart in Nimbasa City didn’t carry many of these, and what they did stock cost a small fortune. Near the center of the row was a sleek black luxury ball, shining as if recently polished.

“Take it,” Randall motioned, following Oliver’s gaze. “You’ve got either impeccable taste or a generous heart, possibly even both,” Randall laughed, placing the luxury ball in Oliver’s hand.

“I … don’t know what to say, this is worth more than a few walks down a run-w—” Oliver began, not believing his luck but not wanting to be indebted either.

Randall threw up his hands in false exasperation and smiled at Dezzy with a wink.

“Hear that Dezzy, he thinks our line of work is worth less than a pokéball!” He turned his glance to Oliver. “Son, you likely just sold ten million pokébucks worth of swimwear for next season to every Gentlemen, Ace Trainer, and Veteran in Unova with half a mind to start taking their physique seriously. Take the ball, I insist.” Randall feigned irritation.

“Th-thank you, Mr. Randall. I really appreciate it.” Oliver carefully added the ball to his pocket.

“I’ll have my people call Burgh’s people; you’ll have a taxi and Park access in the morning. Come Leavanny,” Randall turned to leave, but hesitated, “and Mr. Phlox?”

Oliver nodded that he was listening.

“Eevee are rare.”