White Swan, Black Swan (2024)

“Smell that? That’s the sweet scent of extravagance,” Noel said, adjusting his tuxedo coat. Freddy sat idly on his head, observing the glitz and glamour of the event.

“Somebody lives here,” Odette said. She had to remind herself that this was just the designated party room. There was actually an entire estate attached to this room. The crystal chandelier hanging over the dance floor and table seating area had to be the size of her entire apartment, and that alone filled her with a sense of inadequacy she didn’t think was possible.

“Fross,” Isaur said dully. Her stomach growled, and she rubbed at it.

“I told you there would be food. Make like the ice-type you are and chill,” Odette scoffed.

“Taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal,” Freddy chirped, flapping his wings.

“Behave,” Noel said, raising his right arm, which was clothed in his custom-made falconry glove. The black leather had been lined with glimmering gold piping, and there were crystals embedded into each one of the knuckles. It honestly looked like something Elton John would wear...if he trained flying types, of course.

“Normally, I'm all for you acting chaotic, but tonight's not the night," Noel said as Freddy lifted off his head and hovered down to land on his forearm.

“Flay,” Freddy said, deflated. "Flayyy?"

Noel pursed his lips and then began to look around the immediate area. Odette followed his eyes questioningly for a moment before her gaze caught on a sprawling and almost imposing-looking sweets table. Two humans and two quagsire in waiter vests were handing out plates of finger foods. It was then she noticed several other quagsire and humans sauntering around with plates of odd looking hors d'oeuvres.

She pointed. "There's some desserts for you. You've clearly--"

Isaur and Freddy were halfway to the table before she'd even finished her thought.

"No, guys, I totally wasn't going to recommend we stay together," Noel scoffed, dropping his arm.

"Bringing Isaur to a place with endless food for a detective mission probably wasn't my smartest move," Odette mumbled. With a shallow breath, she tightened her arm around Noel’s and felt him return the favor.

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the guests, their Pokemon, and whatever it was they were doing. She had to stop and stare at the amount of shiny Pokemon she saw before her. They were known to be rare, but from a cursory glance, you'd think they were a dime a dozen. Even so, there were a lot fewer than she would have anticipated seeing.

Nonetheless, "bizarre" wasn’t a strong enough word to describe it, but it was one of the only ones that made sense. Frustrating also came to mind too. How many of those Pokemon were caught rather than purchased through the stupid trade? Probably not a lot, and that thought alone was enough to make her grind her teeth.

“What is this, a shiny trade social?” Odette asked herself.

The co*cktail hour had only started about ten minutes ago, but already there were hundreds of people standing around in their little groups of friends, drinks and finger foods in hand, laughing and carrying on about gods knew what. On a whim, she began to scan the crowd for a sign of Dorien’s styled brown hair and felt momentary relief when she couldn’t spot him. It wouldn’t be long before he came sauntering along, but she needed more time to mentally prepare herself before that happened. For now, all she focused on were the present shinies.

The more she looked, the more it became clear to her that they looked, well, ragged. Long faces, smiles few and far between. Most of them just lingered at their owner's heels, looking miserable while doing so.

Remorse filled her to the brim as thoughts of the rumors of abuse and mistreatment filled her head. Dorien's insistence that they wanted to be in the trade willingly seemed like an overexaggerated fib.

Why don't they fight back if they look so upset? she thought hopelessly.

The sound of breaking glass drew her attention far off to her right. She could clearly see a young man in a waiter vest kneeling down and staring wide-eyed at the tray of drinks spilled all over the polished marble floor. Standing over him was a woman in a flowing yellow gown, a shiny ponyta at her side. Odette watched the woman's painted lips curl over her teeth, and she kicked a shard of glass aside, making the poor waiter flinch.

"Watch it," she spat, waving her Chanel clutch at him. "These are Louboutins! Don't soil what you can't afford!"

As the waiter sputtered out an apology, Odette turned her attention to the ponyta. The horse watched on with despondent eyes. Its head was slightly lowered like it was somehow waiting for the woman's wrath to turn on it next. Even its ears were flat, a telltale sign that it was not having a good time. At all.

Odette then realized--not only were the Pokemon being bought and sold like property but they were perpetually stuck in the presence of wealthy brats like that woman. That would run anybody ragged on its own.

She wanted so badly to go over there and help the waiter clean up. But, when she saw nobody moving to do the same, she was forced to brush that idea aside. She was already entering the room at a disadvantage, and she didn't need to make things harder for herself by putting herself out in a way the regulars weren't. It stung, but she'd have to endure it and deal with the karma that followed.

At the very least, if she wasn't convinced to get to the bottom of this before, she certainly did now.

“Well, I will say this,” Noel spoke, taking her attention away from the disturbing scene. “For a couple of flat dwellers, we clean up nicely.”

That she could agree with. Noel looked absolutely fantastic in his tuxedo, and the red carnation he had pinned to his lapel simply pulled the whole look together. Not to mention, the flower's hue matched the color of her Ralph Lurantis dress, the one gown in her mother’s small closet of higher-end clothes that actually slipped up around her butt.

The dress was form-fitting, deep red, and didn’t suit her style whatsoever. She felt somewhat exposed in something so tight, but at the very least, it seemed like she’d adequately dressed this time around. So, she decided she’d suck it up for the next couple of hours, and sink all her focus into trying to find some answers to her questions.

“If we can get our hands on some champagne, maybe we’ll feel like we’re part of the club,” Odette cracked, nodding her head toward a nearby table. There were flutes of the golden liquid lined up in expertly spaced rows for anybody to take if they were to walk by. She'd have to watch herself lest she got too drunk again in Dorien's presence. However, one glass wouldn't hurt.

“You had me at champagne,” Noel replied, leading her over to it before he was even finished speaking. He grabbed two and handed one to her before holding his out as if seeking a toast.

“To our debut into high society. Let’s see what the f*ck happens tonight,” he said. Odette merely nodded and tapped her cup to his. They sipped together before continuing onward into the room.

“So,” Odette started. “I know you said you wanted to stick together, but maybe we should follow our 'mon's leads and split up?"

Noel was quiet for a moment as he sipped. He cleared his throat. "Probably, yes. You should probably go find your boyfriend first,” he suggested. “Surely, he'll be hanging around all the suspicious parties, right?”

Odette shuddered to herself. “I’m positive. But I feel like venturing outside the realm of Bonhomme will give us a broader scope. I mean, look at these Pokemon. They look miserable."

“Maybe we should use our collective sex appeal and go straight for seduction,” Noel chuckled as he drank more. Odette shot a glare at him.

“Not my jam, but you have fun with that,” she said.

Noel started to nudge her playfully when a loud gasp hit her ears. Noel heard it too, and began to dart his eyes around, looking for the source. It came in the form of a middle-aged woman, who rushed right up to Noel with her purple-hued audino in tow. Its eyes were downcast, so Odette couldn't get a good look at its face. Audino were normally very happy Pokemon, so seeing one so reserved and upset looking added to how disheartening this all was.

“Oh my goodness,” the middle-aged woman said. “Are you Noel Massé?”

Noel blinked rapidly, evidently caught quite off-guard by the question. “Yes,” he said tentatively. He returned his bearings quickly because his lips spread into a suave smile. “How can I help you?”

“I knew it was you!” she said. She grabbed his hand and began to shake it eagerly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I’m Lissette Archamault. I watch a lot of shows at the Lumiose center, and I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan of yours! You were fantastic in Cabaret, and I’m so excited for Purrloins!”

Noel was very obviously flattered by the introduction, but he seemed particularly caught by this woman’s name. Or, at least, that's what Odette was certainly stuck on. An entire part of the theater was dubbed “The Lisette Archamault Wing” to honor this woman and her frequent and obscenely generous donations to the institution.

“Wow, I’m so honored!” Noel said. He was absolutely brimming with excitement, and Odette bit her tongue to keep from giggling. Seeing him get so worked up was really a fun thing to witness. A little beacon of light in this room of disguised darkness they'd just entered.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to introduce you to my husband and a couple of our friends,” the woman said. “My husband could talk your ear off about the original run of Purrloins, it’s his absolute favorite.” She paused. “Unless this is a bad time, I’d hate to pull you away from your gorgeous date.”

Noel hurriedly held up his hands, sputtering over his words. “No, no! Hold that thought, please!”

He turned, grabbed Odette by her wrist, and pulled her a couple of feet away. When he was sure they were out of earshot, he turned to her and immediately clasped his hands together.

“So,” he started politely. “I know we’re playing detective right now, but--”

Odette shook her head jokingly. “Go. Maybe she’ll tell you something juicy while her husband chats you up about your Mistoffelees.”

His eyes lit up, but they quickly dimmed with concern. “Are you sure? I know this is not exactly--”

“You can still play detective while you try to convince rich theater patrons to further your acting career,” she said. “I’ll just go find my boyfriend in the meantime.” The words felt like battery acid on her lips, but that wasn’t the main point.

Noel exhaled deeply, grabbed her cheeks, and planted a long kiss on her forehead. “Keep your phone on.”

“Of course.”

She watched him rush back over to the rich lady and lock arms with her. He shook hands with the quiet audino before they walked off. Career advancement surely was not the reason they were here, but Odette wasn’t going to be the one to hold him back from it.

She was beaming at the fact that such an esteemed and frequent guest of the center recognized him and even called herself a fan. Noel’s talents had been pretty acclaimed since he broke out onto the scene not too long ago, but witnessing something like that, no matter the place, was pretty nice. It meant he was getting somewhere, and it meant there was still a lot in store for him. She was a very proud friend.

On the other hand, she felt momentarily offended that she also hadn’t been recognized like that. Sure, she’d been called ‘gorgeous,’ but that didn’t hold a candle to being told one has a fan. But there was nothing more to expect. She didn’t step out onstage with Noel. She stuck herself behind the curtain, where she thought she’d thrive just as well.

It wasn’t working out that way, though. The part of her that wanted to be the next Diantha was aching, but that unshakeable sense of stage fright was too much to overcome.

It was simply too hard to be okay.

She grimaced to herself as the smell of cigarette smoke flew past her nose. Upon slightly turning her head, she was jarred by the realization she had mindlessly wandered into the designated smoking area. Seeing all of the apparent socialites standing around, fraternizing over the cancer sticks wasn’t necessarily an out-of-place thing. Kalosians just loved their damn cigarettes.

Her eyes roved from one redhead in a sparkling green dress to a robust-looking man in a standard black tux. He released a bellowing laugh, and the men around him also began laughing. She scoffed to herself.

Something’s fu--

“Well, something’s damn funny, isn’t it?”

The crack had come out of the one person standing closest to her. He was leaning over the barricading fence that separated this higher level from the dining area, his hands clasped together lightly. His head was turned in the direction of the laughing man so that all Odette could see was the back of his silver-grey head of hair and the snom sitting on his shoulder. She couldn’t help but notice his suit too. It was a striking slate grey, nearly matching his hair color.

He turned his head, giving Odette a good look at his profile. A cleanly shaven and defined jawline, topped by a delicate nose. A smoking cigarette hung from between his teeth, and he moved a hand to grasp it between two fingers.

“Maybe he realized he weighs as much as his net worth,” Odette said. She hadn’t planned to say it as loud as she did, and she only realized her mistake when the man started quietly chuckling. Odette took a long, slow sip of her drink, hoping that was going to be the end of the interaction. She felt out of place as it was, but part of her figured that making fun of a regular was a bad move.

“Congratulations, that might be the funniest joke I’ve heard all night,” he said as he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth.

“Om!” the snom squeaked.

She side-eyed the man before fully turning back to face him, seeing he was now looking at her. With a frontal view, it was entirely clear to her that he was...

Wow.

If a god was specifically in charge of designing humans, they took care of him. She could see just how strikingly blue his eyes were. She didn’t even think eyes could get to that shade of blue.

She blinked slowly at him as if trying to ward off a mirage. His smile wavered, and she caught him looking her up and down. She felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over her, and she cleared her throat and turned her eyes away from him.

“That’s unfortunate to hear, I wasn't even trying,” she said, then sipped her champagne.

There were a couple of seconds of silence. Assuming the man had just decided to ignore her, she let relief fill her core.

“I'm going to come right out and ask instead of wondering for the rest of the night,” he suddenly said. "If you don't mind me inquiring, are you wearing high heels?"

The frown took over her lips before she even had a chance to register the question. "If you don't mind me inquiring, is that your natural hair color?" she shot back.

"Mm, no," he replied, not missing a beat. "It's Wella 050."

She wasn't entirely expecting him to answer seriously. Now, the ball was back in her court. She released a loud, relenting sigh.

"Yes. Stilettos might I add." She paused as she furrowed her brow. "Why?"

He took another puff, this time taking time to exhale the smoke. "Curiosity. I figured I had nothing to lose by asking."

"What if I'd decided to kick you?"

He chuckled again, then shrugged. "I guess I'll spend the night in the hospital, then." He was awfully chipper about that thought.

"Are you always this forthright with strangers?"

Another shrug from him. “Some people tell me I'm too blunt for my own good, and I don't necessarily disagree. I'd call it my fatal flaw,” he said. He reached over a nearby ashtray and dabbed his cigarette. He then held it up as if gesturing to it.

“Can I offer you one as an apology?”

She was almost insulted. “Pass. Smoking is a singer’s death wish.”

Provided you still sang publicly, she thought bitterly.

He raised a brow as those bright blue eyes filled with minute confusion. “You’re in the designated smoking area,” he retaliated smoothly. He inhaled another puff before blowing the smoke out in her direction. “I figured that's what you were here for. No need for the snootiness.”

Odette fanned the smoke away lazily. She noticed the aroma also had a tinge of fruitiness to it. She assumed that was coming off his natural breath, which was...nice? No, it wasn’t. Blowing smoke in somebody’s face like that was a rude thing to do. She felt a twang of anger and tightened her grip on her drink.

“Just stating a fact,” she said stiffly.

"Well, if you must know, they lace these particular sticks with pecha berries, so it actually eliminates lung buildup entirely.”

Ah, so that explained the fruity smell. She flexed the corners of her lips, trying to suppress the buildup of a sarcastic remark. It didn’t quite work. “Well, if my mimikyu partner ever decides to take up smoking, I’ll be sure to pick those up at the chemist. He's got a pecha obsession.”

A smirk caressed his lips as he turned his whole body to face her, leaning his hand on the fence. He fished in his inner jacket pocket, then withdrew an unmarked cigarette carton.

“This one little package will run you about €3,000. So good luck with that.”

“Om! Ommmmmmm.”

Odette’s eyes narrowed, and that prickle started to intensify. She was allowed to make fun of herself for being poor in comparison to most of the people in this room, but who was this guy and his bug to assume she couldn’t afford a €3,000 pack of cigarettes?

“What makes you think I don’t have that chunk of change sitting in my trust fund?”

Another exhalation of smoke from him. He reached up and scratched the snom on its head. The gesture was so damn cute, and the urge to swoon broke through her desire to punch him in the chest. The conflicting emotions startled her.

What’s wrong with you?

“Because most of the spoiled brats here would be too scared to insult one another that pointedly out loud,” he scoffed. “They prefer to do it the old-fashioned way--behind each other’s backs. Which leads me to believe you’re not one of the spoiled brats.”

That...wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Her guard began to fall back down to size, and the anger started to fade.

“Plus, I’ve never seen your face before, so I was partially running on an assumption on that end,” he added sheepishly.

“...right,” she said.

His snarky grin turned friendly as he held his hand out. “Let me start over. I’m Clovis,” he introduced himself. “And this is Powdered Sugar.” He nodded toward his tiny friend, and it beamed as if it had just been given an esteemed award.

“Snom!”

Odette didn’t fully realize how attracted she was to tall hot men and their small partners until that moment.

Okay, okay, she thought. Get a f*cking grip.

She eyed him for a split second, taking that time to pull her thoughts back together. She then approached and took a firm hold of his hand.

“Odette,” she replied. She figured leaning on the railing next to him would be okay. He didn’t protest, instead just returning his attention to his smoke.

"So, Odette," Clovis began. "What's a non-brat like you doing at a gathering like this?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," she replied. "Talking about the loads of money I keep under my bed and the six sports cars I never drive I keep in my garage."

That got another chuckle out of him. It was a tinkly little noise that intensified the odd warmth in her chest. "You only have six? That's unfortunate. I was talking to someone who had ten."

"Damn. I need to step my game up, then."

"I'm not much of a car person, honestly," Clovis said. He took another drag, burning the cigarette close to its end. "I'm far more into fashion. I feel that's always the better investment. Though, I'm sure you know that. You must have paid a fortune for that dress."

"Oh, you think I had to pay for this myself?" Odette queried, dramatically holding her hand over her chest. "Please. This is a custom Ralph Lurantis. He makes all my dresses personally, free of charge."

"No kidding," he gasped, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he bluffed shock. "I've been bugging that old bat to custom make me a suit for years. How the hell did you manage?"

"With my stellar charisma, how else?"

"sh*t, and here I am settling for a measly store-bought Comme De Garchomp set. You're in the big leagues."

"Too bad these lovely knockoff Jimmy Chinchou heels don't bring me up to the height requirement for the big leagues."

More chuckles. Louder this time. “Are you sure I can’t offer you a cigarette?” he asked as he put the butt of his out on the ashtray. "I do owe you an apology. Knockoff Jimmy Chinchou's are nothing to scoff at."

“As much as I appreciate the gesture, do you want to watch me choke to death?”

He rolled his eyes, flipping the carton open. He pulled out two of the sticks, biting down on one and handing the other to her. “Don’t be so dramatic. One won’t kill your singing lungs. Besides, don’t you know all the best singers smoke everything under the sun?”

“And look where a lot of them are now,” she sneered, taking it with a hesitant twitch of her fingers. She took a moment to down what was left of her champagne. Unsure of what to do with the glass, she set it on an ashtray. Clovis didn't move to chastise her for it, so she supposed it was okay.

“I’ve never ingested smoke that wasn’t being emitted by a chandelure," she admitted.

Clovis had suddenly produced a lighter. When she looked up, his cigarette was already lit, and he was holding the artificial flame out to her. She bit down on her own, and he held the flame up to the tip.

“Pretend it’s a straw for a second, so the tobacco lights,” he explained. “Don’t inhale yet; just suck.”

Something of a dirty joke looped around her frontal lobe, and she gnawed into the cigarette's tip until she forgot about it. She did as she was instructed, and soon the cancer stick was ignited.

“Okay, now you want to inhale just a little. You don’t want to overload yourself on the first drag,” Clovis continued as he pocketed the lighter.

She took a slow, shallow breath. She could feel the smoke going into her mouth and snaking down her throat while a fruity, flowery flavor spread over her palate. It wasn’t the nasty processed pecha flavoring chemist companies like to put in their medicines, it legitimately tasted like there were real pecha berries in the cigarette. She supposed with a €3,000 price tag, she shouldn’t have expected much less.

She felt a tickle start to form in her throat and took that as a sign to exhale. She didn’t want to push it, lest she actually break out into a coughing fit, and she didn’t want to embarrass herself much more in front of him. She removed the cigarette from her mouth and breathed out slowly, watching as the berry smoke swirled up to mesh with the giant nicotine cloud floating overhead.

Clovis raised his brows, impressed. “And you said you were going to choke to death. Look at you.”

“Fast learner, I know.”

He snickered, and she watched him take a long drag from his stick. His mouth went slack, and some smoke began seeping out. He inhaled it back through his nose before it could get too far, then blew it out altogether. Odette had to turn her head away to hide the pink that had started forming on her face again. She’d never thought of smoking as something attractive, but dear gods...

Get. A. f*cking. Grip.

“So. Chandelure? Mimikyu? I take it you’re a ghost-type trainer?” he queried.

She jumped at the sound of the question. “Oh,” she said quickly. “Sort of. More a general magical-type specialist,” she told him. “So ghosts, a fairy, a psychic…”

That seemed to pique his interest because he leaned a little closer to her. “Wait, that’s neat,” he said. There was a sense of mild excitement in his tone. “I don’t know a lot of full magical-type trainers. What’s your team?”

Odette felt all the air deflate from her head. This was getting to be a little much. She’d had maybe one or two crushes before, but nothing like this. “Ah, w-ell,” she stammered. “I have a chandelure, a mimikyu, a gothitelle, a sylveon, and a--”

She felt something cold barrel into the back of her legs. “Fross! Lass!” it said.

She peered down to see Isaur with a plate full of hors d'oeuvres. Her cheeks were full of something, so much so she could barely speak. But she was beaming nonetheless.

Odette stared at her for a moment, then laughed. “Hey, foodie, how are you faring? Where’s Freddy?”

“Ossssssssss,” Isaur said, shrugging. She shoved something that looked like the remains of a chicken kebab in her mouth. Odette was shocked she even had room for it.

Well, the answer wasn't helpful. Hopefully, Freddy had found Noel wherever he was.

“As I was saying, I have froslass partner as well. This is Isaur,” Odette gestured to her partner and peered back at Clovis but was momentarily shocked to find him kneeling down to Isaur’s height. His eyes sparkled with interest.

“Why didn’t you start with that?” he said. He outstretched a friendly hand to the froslass, who looked confused.

“Good evening, Isaur. I’m Clovis. I do hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he greeted.

“Om! Om om!” Snom squeaked.

Isaur took a second to stare at him. Something of a giggle fell out of her, and she floated over and grabbed hold of his fingers with her free hand.

“Fross,” she purred.

“The pleasure’s mine,” Clovis said with a nod. He shook her hand, then released it and stood up. Still giggling, Isaur floated back behind Odette’s legs, where she sat down and poked her head out shyly. Isaur wasn’t a shy Pokemon by any means, so seeing her reduced to a laughing mess like that was bizarre. It seemed he was having a similar effect on both of them.

“Let me guess,” Odette said incredulously. “Ice-type trainer?”

“Was it obvious?” Clovis asked.

“The snom partner, the silver hair, the blue eyes, the way you schmoozed a froslass. I can see it,” Odette said coyly, bringing the cigarette back to her mouth.

He held his hands out to his sides bashfully. “Read me like a book."

"One of my many hidden talents," she said, the confidence clear in her voice. "Are you from Snowbelle?"

Clovis shook his head. “No, actually,” he said. “I just figure skated competitively for--" He caught himself, then cleared his throat. Panic flashed in his eyes for a short moment, gone as quickly as it appeared. She might have missed it if she wasn’t staring right at him.

“Actually, that’s not important,” he said easily as if trying to brush it off.

She didn’t peg him as an artistic type, especially not one to engage in a dance-based activity. But hearing that caused the astronomically sized crush she had to grow. She suddenly had so many more questions. However, it was clear he didn’t want to discuss it, so she decided it would be best not to press.

Maybe he was trying to...hide his age? Was he older than he looked? She tried not to frown at the thought. Instead, she attempted to find the words to fill the sudden gap in their conversation and almost panicked when nothing came to mind. But, she needn’t have bothered.

“Hey, LeClair!”

Good things couldn’t last, could they? She felt like she’d been on cloud nine while she was alone with this man and was immediately shot down to hell at the sound of Dorien’s voice. He emerged at Clovis's side no sooner had his words carried through the smoking area.

“Hey, Bonhomme,” Clovis said cooly. Odette watched in silent horror as Dorien eagerly raised a closed fist, and the two touched knuckles.

They were...friends?

Dorien leaned against Clovis’s shoulder. “I see you've already met my date," he said. Odette very nearly threw up.

"Your date?" Clovis repeated.

"Yes! This is the guest I invited, remember?” Dorien asked. “I told you about her yesterday.”

“Oh!" Clovis said excitedly, some realization hitting him. He turned and pointed at her with the cigarette. "You’re the one who beat his ass at the Pokemon school."

Odette forced a smile and heard Isaur sigh deeply at her feet. “Yep. That was me,” she said.

Clovis took a long drag, barely able to hold down his laughter. “Well, I’m not entirely shocked by that,” he said after pulling it out of his mouth. His voice sounded strained until he exhaled the smoke directly into Dorien’s face. “He sucks.”

Dorien began to cough, but it gave way to some chuckles as he fanned the gas away. But Odette couldn’t help but notice how forced it sounded.

“Not only are you a liar, but your words mean nothing considering you train ice types,” Dorien commented. Surely, he meant it jokingly, but an edge to his tone made it sound serious. Clovis's grin morphed into something more wicked.

“You say that, and yet,” he said, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. “How many times have I beaten you?"

Dorien sucked in a deep breath, and Odette noticed his jaw clench. “Don't act all high and mighty, I've bested you many times. Remember, I still have the type advantage.”

“Which means it stings more when I win, huh,” Clovis said. That grin didn’t falter, even as he brought the cigarette back to his mouth. “Let me know when you want to admit you’re salty about it.”

“Me? Admit I’m salty? That’s not a gentlemanly thing to do,” Dorien said politely.

“It wouldn’t be the first thing about you that isn’t gentlemanly, sweet cheeks.” A pause, and he clamped Dorien on the shoulder. “Just kidding, you’re a chip off the old block.”

"Oh, you’re so full of it. I could say the same about you!”

Their respective smiles were growing nastier by the minute. After a couple of long, almost excruciating seconds of silence, Clovis suddenly reached over and snuffed out the half-smoked cigarette on the ashtray.

Maybe they weren’t friends.

“Well, that’s enough back-and-forth for me. I should go make my rounds,” he declared. He reached up and patted Dorien twice on the cheek. “I’ll catch you at dinner, salty man. If you see Denis, Adam, Lionel, or Colin, tell them I said hello.”

Odette's ears perked at the names, but she couldn't speak before Dorien did.

"Will do, you damn jokester.”

From the way Dorien jaw remained clenched and the way Clovis's brow twitched, it was all too obvious to her that it there was bad blood there, and neither one of them wanted to acknowledge it.

Clovis then approached Odette. Before she could do anything, he planted a friendly kiss on each of her cheeks. She returned the gesture shakily, praying to the gods he wouldn’t feel how fast she was heating up.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Odette."

“Frossss!” Isaur said affectionately, eagerly floating up to Clovis's face.

He chuckled, and the two of them exchanged friendly cheek kisses as well.

"And it was a pleasure meeting you too, Isaur." he said.

“Snommm!” Powdered Sugar said gleefully.

Clovis walked off without another word, shoving his hands in his pockets as he went. Odette waited a second before turning around to watch him go, and boy…she wished she had a photographic memory.

“Your face is a little red, are you getting a fever?”

She flinched and turned to see Dorien leaning his head far too close to her shoulder. She had half a mind to scream in his face. Instead, she sucked her teeth and brought the lit cigarette to her lips, where she chomped down on the tip of it.

“Hm. Must be the smoke,” she muttered, forcing herself to ignore the urge to sidestep away. She heard Isaur grumble to herself unintelligibly.

“I was going to introduce you guys at dinner, but I guess this works too,” Dorien laughed. “He gave you one of his cigs, that definitely means you made a good impression.”

She hated to admit it, but she eagerly whipped her head toward him. “You can tell?”

“Sure, yeah,” Dorien said. “We’re best friends, I know him very well.”

She couldn’t help but raise a brow. “You’re best friends?”

Dorien cleared his throat as he curled his arm around her waist. “Oh, yes. Super close,” he said. "We rib each other, but it's all in good fun."

The doubt she felt was astronomical.

“If there’s anybody you want to be friendly with, it’s Clovis LeClair. He might be one of the richest people in the building tonight. Worth billions,” Dorien added.

Of f*cking course he is, she thought.

“He’s richer than you? I love to hear it,” she said, allowing the slightest bit of edge to peek out.

“The LeClairs are involved in multiple business ventures around the world, so of course, that’s more lucrative than dealing in the shiny trade of one region.” He said it like he'd had that line rehearsed. Was that something he talked about frequently?

And more humane, she thought. She wanted to say it out loud. Instead, she just nodded along.

"But enough about me," Dorien continued. He stepped in front of her, moving his hands to her hips while he eyed her hungrily. She could barely hear a growl from Isaur and had half a mind to growl herself. His hands on her hips felt slimy.

She felt slimy for letting them stay there.

"That dress looks absolutely scrumptious on you. Did you wear that for me?" he asked, clutching onto the fabric while his lips formed a lustful smile. Odette suddenly wanted to put out the lit cigarette on his eyeball.

"How'd you know?" she said in a drawl, turning her head to look up at him. She stuck the cancer stick back between her lips and took another drag, maintaining her half-lidded eye contact as she did. That appeared to send him into a frenzy because he inhaled sharply as he placed his forehead against hers. She could smell the mint on his breath and whatever expensive cologne he'd dabbed behind his ears, and it caused some bile to rise in her throat. Isaur moved at her feet, and she extended her leg ever-so-slightly to bar the froslass from doing anything rash.

"You're playing a dangerous game, looking at me like that," Dorien said in a sultry purr. "Especially wearing that, my god. I'm almost jealous that everybody gets to see you in it. But I love showing you off."

"Mm," she responded, pressing her lips together tightly as she spun the cigarette in her fingers. It'd be so easy to just put it out on his face. His cheek was right f*cking there.

"Good to know you like it that much. I'll keep that in mind." And by that, she meant she would have Ange burn the dress when she got home. She'd buy her maman a new one someday to make up for it.

Thankfully, Dorien pulled his head back and began to eye her again. He pursed his lips in a quizzical fashion before talking. "Normally, I don't like that color, actually. But on you? Mama mia." He paused to think for a second, then offered a playful grin. "That's a musical, right? See, I know a thing or two about Broadway."

Gods, she wanted to stab him.

"I'm so proud of you," she said. She had more to say, but somebody cleared their throat, and they sounded very close. She looked over her shoulder to see Noel standing with Freddy on his gloved arm. The bird was holding a glass of water in his beak, and Odette locked eyes with him. Freddy nodded once as if gesturing to the glass.

“Man, Dee, smoking? I’m disappointed in you," Noel chastised, shaking his head.

“Oh, Noel!” Dorien gasped, loosening his hold on Odette. “Odie didn’t tell me you and your partner were coming too. Colin's walking around somewhere; I'm sure he'd love to see you.”

Panic surged within Noel's eyes. However, he didn't let his smile waver. “Oh, wonderful," he said strongly. "Dee here really likes to keep important things like that to herself, I guess."

Odette now realized she heard right. She didn't know who Lionel was, but Colin, Adam, and Denis were old schoolmates, ones she wasn't expecting to see here. Though they were always hanging around that clique of rich kids, so perhaps it wasn't that shocking. What was it with the good-looking rich boys and such a f*cked up institution? Was there something about it that gave them perfect teeth and pretty eyes?

Noel was playing it cool, but Odette could see he looked a little pained, as he always did when anybody brought up his ex-boyfriends...especially when it involved actually seeing them. He and Colin weren't together very long, since Noel and anything "long-term" and "romantic" never went together. And he liked to keep it that way.

Still, Odette took the awkward conversation as an opportunity to wriggle out of Dorien's arms, desperate to get her hands on that water. She approached Noel, and Freddy extended his neck to give her the glass.

"Thank you," she mouthed as she began to sip it. She didn't realize how much anger she was withholding until the water went down her throat. It replenished the energy she'd lost to playing a bimbo and keeping herself from throwing a table through one of the windows.

Noel stepped around her and held his free hand out to Dorien, who took it without hesitation. Moving along with the conversation, it seemed.

“How have you been? Haven't seen you since graduation,” Dorien said. “I hear you’re doing great things at the performing arts center.”

Noel chuckled bashfully. Well, fake bashfully. That certainly wasn’t his real shy laugh. “Naturally, just living my own dream,” he said whimsically as Freddy fluttered his wings. Now feeling more awake, Odette was taken aback when she watched her friend’s bright smile turn lustful.

“But let's be real here,” he said in a borderline whisper. “I could be doing great things to you if you’d give me the chance, Bonhomme.”

Noel brought Dorien’s hand to his lips without warning and placed a long, firm kiss on it. He didn’t stop until Dorien jerked his hand back.

Odette’s absolute disgust turned to unbridled humor when she saw sweat forming on Dorien’s brow. He was doing a horrible job in masking his uncomfortableness with the situation, what with the way he gritted his teeth through his forced smile and rubbed at his hand as if he’d just been bitten by a parasect.

Isaur began to snicker, and Odette nudged her roughly to shut her up. She sipped the rest of the water to keep herself from laughing too.

"Noel, leave him alone," she whined, straining herself to keep up an annoyed tone.

“L-isten,” Dorien stammered. “I don’t go that way. I’ve never been into that. I can find Colin if you're looking for a hookup, but I'm taken.”

Noel blinked a few times, then co*cked his head to the side innocently. Questioningly. He then exchanged looks with Freddy, who looked equally as confused. “Really? No side flings? I totally thought you at least went both ways.”

"Noel!" Odette gasped, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. He met her eye, and she could see the mischievous shine in his. "Come on, I told you we were kind of a thing now."

Noel feigned shock really well. "Ohhhhhhhh," he said. "It's like...official official. Got it. I'm sorry, I must have missed the memo."

"Yeah, I suppose telling you while you were drunk wasn't my smartest choice," Odette sighed, proud of how regretful she sounded. It felt like a nice improvised touch.

Dorien’s expression fell. He dropped his hands to his sides before tucking them behind his back. He inhaled deeply as if trying to compose himself.

“That's right. Official official," he breathed. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I need to excuse myself. I think my father’s business partner is calling me, so I'll leave you two to it for a bit."

Without warning, he sidestepped back around Noel and looped his arm around Odette's waist, pulling her into his chest. He leaned in and planted a deep, heavy kiss on her lips. The gesture's absolute abruptness instinctively caused Odette to suck in her lips, and she positioned herself to bash him over the head with her water glass.

Stage kiss, stage kiss, stage kiss, you're acting. This is fake.

She exhaled sharply, allowing herself to fall into the kiss numbly. She stalled all conscious thought while coaxing all tenseness from her body, trying to mimic coming down from the surprise. When she felt heavy again, she rested the hand holding the cigarette on Dorien's shoulder. He finally pulled away after what seemed like an hour, now wearing a triumphant smile over his lipstick-stained lips.

"I'll come back and get you in a bit, Doll," he said, thumbing the corner of his mouth. He then lowered his voice to a whisper. "Hope that was official enough."

He released her and shot a glare over his shoulder at Noel before storming off.

Odette kept her eyes locked on the floor, blinking every so often. She could feel the cigarette in her fingers and the cold glass against her palm. Her lips were still sizzling where Dorien had left his mark. She could feel Isaur patting her on the cheek. Slowly but surely, she was restarting herself.

"Blink twice if you need a breath mint. Blink once if you're going to throw up," Noel urged, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She took a long time to register what he was saying. She felt dizzy, but her stomach had settled enough to where she was sure she wouldn't vomit.

She gave Noel two long, hard blinks.

Noel nodded, then jolted his gloved arm, prompting Freddy to hover over to the ashtray. Noel then reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a pack of Altoids. He flicked the pack open and handed it to her.

That was enough to pull her the rest of the way out of her haze. She dropped the cigarette and lunged for the metal box. She snatched up four of the white tablets and threw them into her mouth without thinking twice about it. Her body deflated again, and she hung her head in a mixture of exhaustion and an onslaught bout of shame.

"Damn, he really thinks you're dating," Noel scoffed, leaning down to pick the cigarette up. Odette took that opening to smack him on the back.

"Yeah, no sh*t, honey," she said in a huff. "Why the f*ck did you do that?"

She really should have been livid, but the look on Dorien's face was far too funny.

"I'm sorry, I figured you needed the laugh, and I didn't think he was gonna do that. Are you okay?" he asked as he stood upright.

With a couple of timed breaths, it was safe to say that she wouldn't explode. She was damn near ready to crack his skull open. But no. She got it; she was in control.

The kiss was fake. She was acting. She could control herself. She was in control. She could have stopped that if she wanted to, and she knew that.

She knew that...

"I'm good. His reaction was worth it, and that's unfortunately not the first time he's kissed me," she said in disgust. "Are you okay? He said 'Colin,' and you looked like you were going to shrivel up."

Noel pressed his lips into a flat line, adjusted his coat, and pushed through a partially forced, yet snarky, smile. "A little bit. But I'll be fine. I don't want any old affairs raining on my parade right now."

She supposed she could accept that answer. For now. She had other things she wanted to ask, anyway.

“Do you really think Dorien's got a thing for men?”

Noel scoffed. “No. I happen to know that the best way to get under any heterosexual misogynist's skin is to question their straightness. Though I did have a bit of a crush on him back in the day, sorry about it.”

“Talooooon,” Freddy commented flatly.

Odette nodded slowly, taking time to realize she found the remark funny. She snickered once, turning her head to exchange a look with Isaur, who was staring at her with lowered brows.

“You’re a little sh*t,” Odette said back to Noel. She straightened her posture and began to rub her temple. "You couldn’t have picked a better time to show up, but don't f*cking do that again."

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am," he replied.

"So, where did your fans take you?”

Noel offered a half smile as he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a handful of folded napkins and business cards. At least he wasn't pressing anymore on what had just happened.

There had to be about four slips of paper in his hand, and Odette wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at until she snatched a card and looked at it. It was indeed a standard business card, but a handwritten number and a note were on the back.

555-8910, personal phone
Call me ♡​

She raised a brow at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? What happened to getting juicy information?”

“I can mine for info and window shop at the same time,” Noel said. “You wouldn’t believe how many of these trust fund boomers will pay out the ass to enjoy themselves thoroughly, you know?”

"Tal!" Freddy said.

“I didn’t know you were trying to be a sugar baby now.”

Noel snatched the card away from her. “That college tuition debt isn’t going to pay itself.” He pointed to the card. “This guy? Owns the Battle Maison in Kiloude. He’s f*cking rolling in it.”

Odette blinked a few times to mask her puzzlement. “Noel, isn’t he like fifty? And married?”

All she got in response to that was a wink. She knew it wouldn’t be worth getting into it with him; nothing would stop him from his flings. She supposed she had no room to get on his ass, considering she’d just spent several minutes trying to talk to a guy who was leaps and bounds outside her socioeconomic standing and then kissed the guy she wanted to strangle.

I was in control. Could have stopped if I wanted.

Shaking off that thought, she wondered how Noel made it seem so easy. They’d barely been separated for 20 minutes, and he had managed to get his hands on the feelings of not one but possibly four men. As questionable of a talent as it might have been, she couldn’t help but be impressed by it. And for once, envious. She’d have loved to have walked away from that conversation with Clovis with his contact in her hand, but she was just royally incapable of imposing such a request on him.

Noel wrapped his arm around her shoulders and began to lead her out of the smoking area, but not before leaning down and picking up the cigarette she had dropped. He tossed it onto the ashtray Freddy was sitting on.

“Look at it like this. Sex is the best way to get somebody talking. I'm sure letting Dorien mack on you is doing wonders."

"I'm whittling away at him, for sure," she said confidently. Though, whether she was assuring Noel or herself was hard to tell.

"Also, since when the f*ck do you smoke? I know you’re taking a break from using your chops, but jeeze.”

She shook her head. “Somebody offered, and I couldn’t say no.”

***​

Dinner time rolled around rather quickly. Odette and Noel had spent so much time scrounging around, trying their best to mingle in with the crowd, that they’d barely noticed people moving to sit at the formally set tables until Dorien came and found them. It looked like he had recovered from his moment of awkwardness because he acted as if nothing had happened. He directed them to his table, which was already seated with humans, but no Pokemon.

Odette quickly noticed that most of the guests returned their Pokemon to their balls as they went to sit. It wasn’t enough for her to warrant doing that with Isaur, especially with Dorien being as handsy as he was, but it struck her as peculiar. Most of the patrons at that fancy restaurant had their 'mons out, so why not here?

“Everyone,” Dorien said when they approached. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “This is my date, Odette, her partner Isaur, my old schoolmate Noel, and Freddy! They’ll be sitting with us tonight, so please be nice. I'm sure some of you already know them, actually."

Odette gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to twist his arm off of her. However, he let her go just in time for his friends to stand and greet them.

“My goodness, your lips look fantastic,” one woman said. “Are they natural, or do you get them done? My last plastic surgeon retired, so I’m in the market for a new one.”

Odette stared at her for a long while, trying to gauge how to answer. “Uh,” she stammered, blinking rapidly as she tried to come up with an answer that would make sense. "They're...natural. But my nana goes to Baby-Doll Eyes Cosmetic Surgery Center in Brackish Town. Rants and raves about it," she said. And that wasn't a lie. Marieanne went for yearly Botox appointments. Odette could barely make a difference after each appointment because she looked fine for her age, but if it made her happy, she wasn't one to judge. Needles in the face sounded like absolute hell, though.

The woman beamed. "Oh, I'll look into that. Thank you!"

Odette managed a grin and a nod. She wanted to go sit, but not before the mini Lansat Prep reunion.

"Well, I'll be damned; never thought I'd see Odette Cinq-Mars in a dress again," Denis greeted. He looked the same, yet far different than he had in school. Still tall, still muscular, still an overall tank. Still very pretty. Though, not so much anymore, now that she knew he was standing by and watching the nefarious crap happen.

Still, she made herself smile. "Hey Denis," she greeted. "Long time no see. You look great."

"Not compared to you," he purred as they exchanged polite cheek kisses. She decided just to let it roll.

Adam was a little more pleasant. For what a playboy he was, he also seemed to know when to keep his mouth in check. He didn't do much more besides the standard cheek-kiss greeting and a compliment.

"Red's a good color on you," he said with a friendly grin.

Next to her, Noel was reacquainting himself with Colin, who already had him in an iron hug.

"It's been so long! How have you been?" Colin said happily, swaying through his embrace. Odette could see Noel trying his best to hide his cringe and barely managing to hang on.

"I'm fantastic. It's great to see you, Colin," Noel said through his partially-distressed smile. When they finally pulled away from one another, Noel nodded happily but still looked ultimately relieved to be free. As Colin approached Odette to say hello, Noel sent her an aggrieved look, which she struggled not to laugh at as she exchanged another round of hugs and cheek kisses.

Dorien also introduced her to Lionel, the last name she didn't recognize. He looked roughly her age, and as good-looking as he was, she didn't recognize his face.

"This is Lionel," Dorien said. "He didn't go to Lansat with us, but he's been one of my longest friends."

Lionel didn't hesitate to grab her hand and kiss it firmly. "How'd I go so long without meeting you?" he questioned flirtatiously. Odette bristled, pressing her lips together to form something of a startled grin.

"I--" she stammered. For once, Dorien was out to save her because he aggressively pulled Lionel back and patted him on the shoulder.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You'll scare her off," he warned, causing Lionel to shrug.

"I'm just giving credit where it's due. Good pick, Dory."

It took every ounce of nerve Odette had not to flip the table in front of her.

Several chairs were still open at their table, and she quickly sat down in one, with Noel to her right. Freddy took the one next to him right before Colin could snatch it. Dorien attempted to grab the empty chair on Odette's other side, but Isaur slipped into it as he pulled it out. Odette swallowed her relieved sigh and grabbed the set glass of water near her plate. She took a long, drawn-out gulp from it.

“Frosslasssss,” she taunted.

Dorien stared at her for a long moment before shrugging and moving to the empty chair next to Freddy. “Fine, fine. Who am I to separate Pokemon and trainer?” he huffed.

“Good on you, Isaur,” Noel said quietly, covering his mouth to hide his amusem*nt.

“Oh shucks, table’s already filling up.”

The sound of Clovis’s voice caused Odette to cough on her sip, and she forced what was already in her mouth down before turning to see him approaching, snom still on his shoulder. A greeting made it to the tip of her tongue, but she needn’t have bothered. Everyone else was up greeting him before he’d even made it all the way over. They were polite to her and Noel, but they appeared to be extra nice to Clovis, with the way they showered him with joyous hugs and firm handshakes and cheek kisses.

“There’s always room for you, Clovis!” Colin said.

“You’re far too kind,” Clovis replied. “I can't ask you all to move for me, though.”

“Snom!” Powdered Sugar said.

“Nonsense!” Dorien called eagerly. He gestured to the last empty chair next to him. “Plenty of room to sit next to me.”

“Fross! Fross!” Isaur said suddenly. She moved to sit on Odette’s backrest, then gestured to the now-empty seat. Odette watched in silent embarrassment as Clovis smiled broadly and stepped over.

“Fancy seeing you here, Isaur. But I couldn’t possibly take your seat,” he said.

Isaur shook her head. “Frosssss!” she insisted.

Clovis snickered, then shot a look at Dorien. He shrugged. “This chair’s closer. Maybe next time?”

“Come now, you’d rather sit next to somebody you just met?” Dorien said. Odette was sure he was trying to be taunting, but it somehow sounded more like a warning. Regardless of what it actually was, Clovis didn’t appear to care.

“Don’t be jealous that she’s the new hotness and you’re the old busted,” he said pointedly.

The table erupted into light snickering, and with that, he sat. Odette eyed him, then cut her eyes to Isaur just in time to watch her land into the empty chair next to an unamused-looking Dorien. She looked positively proud of herself, and Odette wasn’t sure if she was thankful or mortified. Isaur playing wingwoman for her was uncharted territory.

“I hope you don’t mind me displacing your Pokemon,” Clovis said abashedly over the laughs.

“No, no. I think she was glad to move.”

She heard Noel clear his throat, effectively earning her and Clovis’s attention. Noel reached his hand over to the newcomer, flashing his teeth.

“Hi, I don’t think we met. I’m Noel,” he said quickly. Clovis was ever-gracious and shook his hand happily.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“You know Odette, huh?” Noel asked.

Clovis nodded. “Sure, we had a smoke break just a little ago.”

Noel co*cked his head to the side. “No kidding! She’s not really much of a smoker.”

“Well, she did pick it up pretty fast.”

“Yep,” Odette said quickly. “Like I told him, I’m a fast learner.”

“And couldn’t say no?” Noel queried under his breath. Odette kicked him under the table, and he winced. But it got him to stop talking. All he offered in response was a wry grin as he slumped back in his seat.

The next thing Odette knew, everybody was chattering amongst themselves. Now that the greetings and formalities were out of the way, there was nothing else left to do but talk some more until the food was brought out. Noel didn’t seem to have trouble entering into conversation, but Odette found herself alone with her short-circuiting brain, unsure what to do. Actually, that was a lie. She knew what she wanted to do but wasn’t sure how.

“So, what else are you quick at learning?” Clovis spoke.

Well, that just saved her from having to strike up the conversation first. She nearly fell out of her chair when she met his blue eyes again.

“Pardon?” she said.

“Magical-type specialist, singer, good at reading...are those the only things you have under your belt, or are you more in-depth than that?” he pressed.

She opened her mouth to speak but found it difficult to form the words. What was there to her? She hadn’t been asked to “talk about herself” since the icebreaker the Purrloins! cast did on the first day of rehearsals. “I...dance?” she said. “Danced,” she corrected after a beat.

He straightened his posture. His eyes lit up in a way that showed her he was now extremely invested in the subject at hand. “Let me guess, ballroom? No, wait,” he said before squinting. “Ballet. You have the face of a ballet dancer.”

She didn’t mean to roll her eyes as hard as she did, but it just happened that way. “Just not the height or figure,” she said.

“I think short girls pas de deux the best,” he chuckled.

She wasn’t sure when the hell she swallowed a cutiefly, but the one in her stomach was flying in violent circles.

“I was more into hip-hop, actually. Afro dance is my favorite.”

Clovis scrunched his brows, and that little smirk of his became agog. The fact that she was managing to hold his interest like this was becoming thrilling. “Very interesting. I never ventured much past private ballet lessons.”

“Absolutely lame,” she scoffed, picking up her glass of water again. “You don’t know how to dance until you can throw the stiff rules out the window and just move.”

Clovis looked like he had some quick remark, but he was interrupted by a shrill beeping that seemed to be coming out of his suit. His calm and collected demeanor quickly morphed into something more rigged and aggravated, and he sighed heavily. He reached into the same pocket where he’d kept the carton of cigarettes and pulled out a cell phone--the newest Applin brand phone, no f*cking less--which was blinking with an incoming call. He didn’t try to conceal it, so Odette got a perfect view of the caller ID before he pressed the ignore button.

Jocelyn (DO NOT ANSWER)​

Odette averted her eyes away as he set the phone face down on the table. She drank some more to mask the curiosity that she so desperately wanted to show. It wasn’t any of her business, but she definitely had some questions.

Clovis began rubbing his face as if warding off whatever aggravation had just overcome him. He sighed again before turning to face her. “Sorry, where were we?”

“I was calling you lame.”

That smirk returned with frightful ease. If she hadn’t just witnessed his slip into annoyance firsthand, she’d have never known it happened at all. “Right, because you think--”

The phone rang again, and just like that, he was aggravated once more. He picked it up, only to be met with the same caller ID. He muttered a stream of curse words under his breath, then began to look around almost frantically.

“Okay, you know what--” he said. Odette watched as his eyes landed on the beautiful table centerpiece. It was a fantastic arrangement of real burgundy dahlias and scabiosas in a tall crystalline vase. Clovis stood, pushed aside the flowers, and dropped the phone into the water. It landed with a subtle splash, earning the attention of everyone at the table.

Clovis adjusted his coat, then sat back down. He pointed to Powdered Sugar. “Remind me that’s there before we leave. Or don’t.”

“Snom."

“Wow, Clovis, do you know what the power button is?” Adam asked.

“I sure do, but I like this arrangement better,” Clovis replied.

“Did one of your many suitors get ahold of your number?” Dorien said, wiggling his eyebrows for dramatic effect.

Odette’s eyes widened despite herself. Suitors? She should have expected that much—surely she wasn’t the only girl in the room eyeing him. He was the whole package. Gorgeous, seemingly with a personality of substance. The money was just a damn plus.

When she actually cleared her head, she finally registered the biting tone in Dorien’s words. A tone she’d expect from a jealous party, one trying to get under somebody else’s skin. She shot him a questioning look. He locked eyes with her, then blew her a kiss.

dickhe*d, she thought, sending back an obliged smile. His contact name in her phone proved truer and truer every time they interacted.

Clovis abruptly paused. His eyebrow twitched as he raised his gaze. “You say that…like I have girls lining up at my door?”

The clear confusion in his tone was enough to calm her nerves.

Dorien shrugged. “Do you not? I’d figure that much from a man of your wealth.”

“Try figuring out other things instead, okay? I know it's hard, but I believe in you.”

Dorien sighed deeply. “Well, if you’re that desperate to get rid of your phone, why not get a little training off on that snom and have him freeze it?” Dorien said.

“I think I’d be better off having him freeze your lips shut,” Clovis snapped in a scoff, not missing a beat.

“Oooooom!”

"Easy boys," Denis chortled. “I get that you’re hangry, but no need to take it out on each other.”

Clovis sucked his teeth. “Oh, relax, it’s just a bit. I’d never actually do it.”

“He’s like my older brother. I have to harass him here and there,” Dorien said through an exhale, throwing his arms out to his sides.

“Naturally,” Clovis agreed.

Odette wanted to groan. Even if it was fake, watching the man she hated and the man she was trying to shmooze act so buddy-buddy was difficult.

"Well. Taking bets on what’s for dinner tonight,” Lionel said. Another round of conversations began, and Clovis turned his attention back on her.

"Sorry. Sometimes our back-and-forths get a little out of hand," he said. Odette had no issue picking up on the aggravation in his voice that he was undoubtedly trying to hide.

"Seems in line for a sibling-like relationship, yeah?" she asked. “How’d you meet?”

Clovis bobbed his head from side to side, pursing his lips pensively. "Another gathering like this. A couple of years back. His family wanted to befriend mine, and vice versa. The rest is history.”

She nodded. “Oh, so it was more of a…political thing?”

A snicker from him. “Things always start political here. Everyone’s trying to get around, make connections, yadda yadda yadda.”

She watched as he averted his eyes over his shoulder, then leaned in closer to her. "That’s also how you pick up on the bones in everyone’s closets," he whispered.

Odette rested her cheek in her palm. She didn’t need to act like she was interested because she genuinely wanted to hear where this was going. The hot billionaire with all the dirt? 'Jackpot' wasn’t a strong enough word.

“Are you going to elaborate on that, or are you just taunting me?”

She half-expected him to blow her off, even though he had brought it up, but he looked to be hunting for an answer. “Hm, well,” he started. "Since you're fraternizing with a Bonhomme and his pals, you should be somewhat in the know."

She didn't like how he said that, but that was the least of her concerns.

Clovis began to scan the room, and Odette instinctively followed his gaze in anticipation. She watched him discreetly point at a woman sitting at a table right next to them.

“Lydia Auclair. She runs a successful vegan bakery company and gained popularity for how good her products taste. But, she somehow neglects to tell her customers that she makes a lot of them with vanilluxe milk because it just 'tastes the best.' Humanely sourced from the Pokemon-Trainer Work Program, of course, but I doubt the vegans she sells to would care enough about that,” he said. He paused again, hunting down another victim. He wheezed to himself as he pointed all the way across the dance floor toward a buff-looking man sitting with a woman on each side.

“Enzo Barbeau. Spends all of his money on high-end hookers, all while his finance company is on the verge of bankruptcy.”

His finger traveled to another man. An older one sitting next to a lady who was obviously his wife. However, neither one of them looked thrilled to be in such close proximity to one another.

“And Burke Agard,” he said. Owns the Battle Maison in Kiloude. Absolutely gay, and his wife Camille knows he has several boy toys on the side to suit that need. She just doesn’t want to deal with losing money in the inevitable divorce, so she pretends she doesn’t know.”

Odette stifled a laugh into her hand, thinking back to Noel’s stash of phone numbers. “You know what,” she said. “Somehow, I think I knew that one.”

Clovis opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off by the sound of a mic being tapped. It echoed through the room, effectively silencing everybody and alerting them to a woman clad in a beige tea-length gown standing in the center of the dance floor.

“Good evening, everybody!” she said. “We hope you’re enjoying the festivities and your dinner!”

There was some light applause and cheering, and the woman waited for it to die down before going on.

“But now, it is time to commence tonight’s slated exhibition battle. We have, of course, selected two contestants from tonight’s guest list to take part with their brand-new Pokemon,” she explained. More, louder cheers were earned from that.

“So please, give a warm welcome to Mr. and Mrs. Patenaude!”

A well-dressed man and woman, presumably the called-upon Patenaudes, stood from their table opposite the dance floor. Mrs. Patenaude wore a floor-length satin orange gown. It was tight fitting, really accentuating her features...save for the fact it was an atrocious color.

“Orange really only looks good on a charmander, doesn’t it?” Odette heard Clovis mumble. She started to wonder if he was reading her mind. She sure hoped not, as that would be a level of embarrassment she’d never be able to overcome.

She focused in on Mr. Patenaude, noticing how he wore a bow that matched the woman’s dress. They locked arms with each other as they sauntered to the middle of the floor, and the applause soon subsided. The couple smiled broadly, clearly looking forward to the battle they were about to engage in. She had to wonder if they did this often...actually, she had to wonder if married couples really battled each other often in general? Was that a thing that couples did to show affection? She couldn’t really recall any times she’d seen her grandparents battle, but then again, neither of them were really battle-oriented trainers…

She was truly clueless. How could she be sitting here, rolling in a primary school grade crush, and not even knowing the basics of what romantic relationships require?

Odette was removed from her intrusive thoughts by the emcee speaking again. She gestured happily to the couple as she regarded the crowd.

“As I said, this will be an exhibition match between our previously selected contestants. We ask that all guests, Pokemon, and humans alike, remain seated at their tables until the battle ends. No interference should be necessary,” she explained. “We also ask that you please enjoy the show! This shall be a fantastic treat for all of us.”

More applause sounded. Odette exchanged dubious looks with Noel as she quietly put her hands together.

“Mr. and Mrs. Patenaude, you may take your positions. I will call the start of the match,” the emcee said. The couple gazed at each other lovingly before exchanging a small kiss. They then walked to the opposite ends of the floor. As they moved, walls of light shot up from the perimeter of it, stretching the length to the ceiling before fading away.

“I guess they use this as an arena a lot,” Noel said. “My poor ass can’t keep up.”

Odette chuckled to herself as she watched the opponents withdraw their respective pokeballs, each one of them grinning with anticipation. Mrs. Patenaude took it upon herself to stick her leg out from the slit in her dress skirt, and she bounced on the heel of her Jimmy Chinchou shoe. Mr. Patenaude adjusted his coat as he stared at his wife, looking...flirty. Odette wondered if this was some sort of foreplay for them. Like a kink. Could battling be a kink? That somehow sounded gross, especially with so many people watching. Then again, voyeurism was also a kink.

She felt more of her brain cells starting to die off. She’d never thought so hard about the ins and outs of romance and sex in her entire twenty-two years of existence, at least in regard to herself. But, leave it to one head of luscious silver hair to change that.

The couple’s collective anticipation seemed to expand and take hold of the entire room. It was amazing how fast everyone fell silent, waiting with bated breath for the battle to commence. Odette had never witnessed such an atmosphere surrounding a mere exhibition battle.. For all she knew, it was staged down to the movement. Still, hopefully, it’d be enough to take her mind out of the gutter for the time being.

The emcee raised her hand. “Trainers ready!” she called. She then paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. “Begin!”

Their Pokemon were out in the field before the emcee had jogged to safety. Mrs. Patenaude sent forth a bright green scizor, while her husband used a dark green malamar. Odette supposed she should have expected them to be shiny, but she still felt surprised seeing them. Being in the presence of so many shiny Pokemon still felt so bizarre.

“Sciiiii,” Scizor drawled.

“Mal,” Malamar said in a low voice.

All of Odette’s surprise faded out and was replaced with intense concern.

Both of those Pokemon...looked so tired. More tired-looking than any other Pokemon she'd seen tonight.

Malamar were known to squint a lot, but Mr. Patenaude’s malamar was blinking like it was running on thirty minutes of sleep. Meanwhile, the scizor looked as if it was going to topple over at any moment. It wobbled as its feet hit the ground.

With narrowed eyes, she shot another look back at Noel. He was wearing an intense frown, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

"What the f*ck?" she mouthed.

"I don't know," Noel responded.

There wasn’t much else to say, so she forced herself to look back at the battle. Did they both...forget to heal their Pokemon before coming into the battle? Were they both just stupid?

“Scizor, use Agility!” Mrs. Patenaude cheered.

“Malamar, Brutal Swing!” Mr. Patenaude declared.

Scizor put its pincers together, concentrating. As it did that, Malamar sprang forward. Well, sprang was a strong word. It looked more like a slow, discombobulated trot. A faint glow took hold of its tendrils as it reared back to swing at Scizor.

“Maaaaaaal,” it squeaked.

“Sciiii.”

Malamar swung, and Scizor tried to use its newfound speed to get out of the way. However, it lost its footing and fell over. Malamar missed entirely, and the weight of its swing also caused it to fall over. Neither one made any moves to get up after that.

Was...was that it?

Odette knit her brows, waiting for the emcee to call it. Several seconds passed, and nothing. Were they waiting to see if they would get back up? Odette began to feel her anger creeping up again because this was just f*cking cruel. Is this really what the wealthy liked to do? Send exhausted, barely healed Pokemon out into battle to watch them flail around and struggle? What kind of sick--

“Oh darn! They’re still a little tired,” Mrs. Patenaude said sheepishly.

“Well, then, let's just cut to the chase, shall we?” Mr. Patenaude responded.

They withdrew their tired Pokemon with such synchronicity it was a little unnerving. Mr. Patenaude then withdrew another ball from his coat pocket. Squinting through her glasses, Odette could not determine what kind of ball it was. It was pitch black, but the button was bright red. It blinked as if beckoning to be pressed. Mrs. Patenaude revealed her other leg, where the same kind of ball was strapped to her thigh. She grabbed it and held it up.

“We shall!” she shouted.

Mrs. Patenaude pressed the blinking button on her ball, and it opened with a puff of thick black smoke. As the questionable gas seeped from the ball, she brought her thumb to her mouth and bit down hard enough to draw blood.

“I lend you my blood, Hiruition!” she said. As she spoke, something shot from the ball. It moved to the middle of the playing field, as a beam of red formed around the incision she’d made on her thumb. It met the apparition, causing it to explode into a corporeal form.

It was as large as a gyarados, if not bigger, and had a similar body type...no, maybe it looked more like a dragonair? It slithered through the air like one, but it was too fat to be a dragonair, or gyarados...besides, neither one of those Pokemon had a proboscis like that one did. This thing looked more like a leech than anything else. It had a set of dark eyes that Odette could barely make out against its dark purple skin. Its tail end faded off into smoke, in the same way the outer edges of a gastly did.

Odette’s hand began to cramp from how hard she was grasping the tablecloth. She felt something grab her thigh and turned to see Noel’s eyes about to bug out of his head. She couldn’t look at him for too long because she had entirely fixated on trying to figure out just what the f*ck this thing was. She’d studied up on her Pokemon species, she was sure she knew a lot of them, and she was even more sure she’d have studied something about a giant leech Pokemon. A giant leech Pokemon that apparently...had something to do with trainers' blood?

She was so confused that she barely registered the thunderous cheering that had erupted around her. Everyone at her table...hell, everyone at every table seemed to be up on their feet, cheering for this...thing.

Out of morbid curiosity, she looked over at Clovis. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or even more confused to find that he had not moved. The joking smirk he’d had on while they were bantering over their water was replaced by a blatantly unamused frown.

“Odette, what the hell is that?” Noel said, causing Odette to turn her attention toward him. He had to lean over and speak directly into her ear to talk clearly over the cheers.

“Talonflay?” Freddy said.

“I--” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t even--”

She couldn’t form the words before Mr. Patenaude opened his own ball. In a similar show of nicking his thumb and opening the ball, another Pokemon took form. A grotesque fish. Or at least, it seemed like a fish. It had fins and beady fish eyes, but it also had a mouth full of horrifically sharp teeth, and it was far bigger than a fish needed to be. Maybe slightly smaller than a copperajah. Slightly.

A black goopy substance dripped from between its teeth and reeked of rotting meat. That somehow wasn’t even the most strikingly odd part of it, though. What stood out the most was the single antennae hanging from its head. It dangled in front of its face and ended in a bright red bulb. The bulb emitted an orb of light that surrounded the Pokemon entirely.

“Lophious, we fight!” Mr. Patenaude hollered through the cheers. “Scald!”

The red glow around lophious intensified, and the goo in its mouth began to illuminate as well. It brightened until it began to smoke up. That rotting stench filled the room, causing everyone to cover their noses. It then spat the goo at the other Pokemon, causing it to cry out in a way that Odette had never heard a Pokemon scream before.

It was unnatural. She’d even go as far as to call it demonic.

“Don’t take that, Hiruition! Bite down hard!” Mrs. Patenaude hollered.

The leech regained itself from the attack and wasted no time flying forward. It moved with such frightening speed and accuracy that Odette felt nervous just sitting there on the sidelines. Its proboscis opened, revealing a rounded pattern of teeth, which sunk into the middle of the fish Pokemon’s head. It screamed and thrashed with a level of aggression that would normally cause a battle to be officially halted, but the emcee didn’t call anything. It just went on like it was supposed to be normal.

At some point, the Pokemon were just allowed to go at it. Biting, hitting, and strangling each other. The couple would call out moves every now and then that Odette recognized, but it seemed they were mostly set on letting those two things rip each other apart. She was barely paying attention at that point because she was still racking her brain for an explanation.

Hiruition...lophious, she repeated in her head over and over again, hoping it would somehow uncover any bit of knowledge she might have buried over the years. When nothing came up, she just grew more frustrated. It didn’t help that the cacophony of roars from the giant Pokemon and the onlookers, not to mention the terrible stench of sulfur, were doing a fantastic job of further clouding her judgment.

Though, she wasn’t sure what actual judgment there was to cloud. She’d never seen or heard of any of those Pokemon.

She numbly watched the two alien things exchange hit after hit. Normally, she ate battles up, looking for things to nitpick, praise, and perhaps compare to her own tactics. But, she could do none of that here. She could only watch in wide-eyed shock.

“Hydro Pump!” Mr. Patenaude demanded. Lophious geared up before spitting a beam of high-pressure water at hiruition.

“Evade it, then Tackle!” Mrs. Patenaude said. Hiruition effortlessly looped around the beam before whipping its tail at lophious, sending it flying toward the ground. The crowd's cheers intensified when Lophious failed to get back up, and the red light faded from around it.

“Lophious is down and unable to fight!” The emcee bellowed over her microphone. “The winner is Mrs. Patenaude and her hiruition!”

Mrs. Patenaude basked in her victory as she and her husband withdrew their Pokemon. They met again in the middle of the battlefield and embraced, smiling and laughing. Like this was a normal thing for them. They locked hands and waved to the onlookers before striding back to their table.

“And that concludes tonight's exhibition. We do hope you had a wonderful time. Please, enjoy the rest of your dinner, and try not to mind the smell too much!” The emcee said. A final round of cheers carried through the room before slowly but surely dying back down as waiters fanned out around the room, carrying trays upon trays of the entrees. Meanwhile, some pidgeots flew down from doors in the ceiling and began to fan the battle fumes out the windows, which opened automatically for them.

Even as her spread of rich-looking lobster tail and vegetables was set in front of her, Odette couldn’t bring herself to attempt to eat. She’d entirely lost her appetite. Nothing in her brain could help her make sense of what she just saw, so she zoned in on the conversation happening around her.

“A hiruition? How lucky!”

“Do you think they could produce another if they tried hard enough? I bet the malamar could hold it.”

“So strong, I hope to coax one out of my own.”

What the f*ck were they talking about?

She was clearly an odd one out here; they were all talking like they’d practically expected this to happen. Her gaze traveled to Dorien, where he was engaged in seemingly deep thought with the person sitting next to him. She could barely hear him, so she looked back to Clovis, who was staring at his watch now.

“Clovis, what--” she started to ask.

“Bullsh*t, that’s what,” he grumbled, almost too low for her to hear. Nonetheless, Odette could pick up the raw anger that coated the words. She didn’t notice Noel was listening in until he leaned over her to get closer.

“What do you mean?” he asked, almost too frantically. “What are they talking about?”

Clovis exhaled a hard breath and threw his napkin on the table. He stood up and pushed his chair in before leaning down toward them. He got so close Odette thought their noses would touch, and she jerked backward out of habit. He spoke quietly as if he were trying to ensure she was the only one who could hear him. The look in his eyes was deadly serious, and it made her blood run cold.

“A word of advice: walk out of here while you still can. What you just saw was a disgusting show of greed that you’d be better off not getting involved in. ”

With that, his expression smoothed. A beaming grin curved over his lips, a convincing one that caused his now-shining eyes to crinkle up ever so slightly. A stark contrast from that dead, hard stare that was on her not even seconds before. It was a little unnerving just how good he was at switching himself off and on like that, but Odette's brain was too busy reeling to really dwell on it.

Clovis cleared his throat, alerting everyone's attention. “Well, friends, it was fantastic fraternizing with you all, but I have an early meeting tomorrow, and it’s already—“

He reached into his coat pocket, then frowned as his eyes fell to the phone, still submerged in the vase.

"Om? Om," Powdered Sugar said.

"I see that,” he huffed. He then leaned over and started trying to dig the device out.

“Aw, come on! Leaving so soon?” Dorien whined.

“Duty calls, and you smell bad,” Clovis replied as he freed the phone from its aquatic trap. He shook it off, his face crinkling in annoyance as he did, before shoving back into its apparent main home in his pocket.

"Ha, ha, so funny," Dorien said flatly. "You have a good night then, LeClair."

Clovis offered another bright grin, then waved. "Back at you, Bonhomme. Good evening, all."

“Snom!” Powdered Sugar said in unison.

He then turned and made way for the exit. Odette watched him go, numbly taking note of the moderately rushed skip in his step.

She blinked rapidly, trying to tame her buzzing brain. She then exchanged looks with Noel. His mouth was also slightly agape, as usual, when he found himself at a loss for words.

What the f*ck?

Her eyes traveled to Noel’s dinner, and she noticed he hadn’t touched his food either. Looking down at the table, Isaur and Freddy's meals also remained untouched. It was good to see they were all on the same page here.

“Disgusting show of greed that we’re better off not getting involved with,” she repeated in a whisper.

“How do—“ Noel slowly started to speak, but he cut himself off and turned his head away. No sooner had that happened, Odette felt a presence sink itself into the spot where Clovis had been sitting and turned to see Dorien’s gross grinning face.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked.

“I'm...impressed?" She didn't mean for it to come out as a question, and she silently cursed herself for it.

He chuckled, then put his arm around her shoulders and leaned into her. “Have you ever seen Pokemon like that before?”

Part of her wanted to say yes to get around the condescending explanation that was about to come her way. But she couldn’t do that. Maybe Dorien would prove to be useful and give her something she could dwell on instead of an eerie warning.

“No,” she said sweetly. “What were they? They were kinda scary looking.”

Another chuckle as he placed some pecks on her cheek. "Not to worry, gorgeous. I'd have protected you if they got too close."

Get over yourself, she wanted to say.

He thumbed her cheek in the same spot he'd just kissed, his eyes flicking from hers to her lips. She wanted so desperately to push him away. She could if she wanted to, but not if she wanted answers.

Control. You have it.

“I can’t really get into specifics right now because you’re new here,” he said. “But you should know there’s more where that came from.”

This caused her eyes widened a smidge. “There’s more of those things?”

“As I said, no specifics. Just trust that I can get my hands on some very powerful ‘mons for you. That is if you stick around and see how it all works,” he explained. “Plus, I can always put in a good word for my date.”

"You would do that for me?" She fluttered her eyelashes for good measure. She needed to sell the doe-eyed bimbo look here. "I'm not rich, though. I don't think I can afford--"

"Shh, shh, shh," Dorien hushed, pulling back and taking both of her hands in his. He brought them to his mouth and began to kiss her knuckles. "None of that. You don't need to worry about any of that. Besides, you have a shiny, which is the hardest part." With that, he smiled lovingly. "You keep in mind that I would do absolutely anything for you, okay? Trust the process."

A chill ran up her back, and she made herself giggle shyly. "Okay, Dory. If you say so."

She’d come here hoping to find some answers and instead ended up with way more than she bargained for. Trust the process? Those Pokemon?

Something smelled rotten, and it wasn’t the lingering stench from the battle.