View Full Version : The Trainer's Choice Awards

03-30-2008, 06:13 AM

The Trainer's Choice Awards
Now let's skip the other crap and get straight to it.

I didn’t have to try hard to look like a runway model as I strolled down the isle in my peaceful gait, my long silky dress gracing the top of the carpeted floor. This entire show-off thing wasn’t a jump in a fresh water of pool to me; being around ghosts most of the time, being graceful just came as natural.

I glanced at the sea of heads from under my thick black obsidian eyelashes as I neared my seat. From my point, I could see all of them, and they were all excited and gay looking. Ugh. There was no reason to be happy if you were going to get an award for doing something that came like organs to you, something natural that you didn’t have to work hard for at all. The Trainer’s Choice Awards were simply stupid, a degrading spring day that could have been perfectly good to stay inside and inhale the silent presence of ghosts.

They were all gym leaders, elites, “famous trainers” and other people this awards ceremony considered important. Unfortunately, they were all dressed appropriately (you know, the classical tux with an unpimp flower, or maybe an ugly dress with flashy hair) which came as a disappointment to me because every year I came to these awards, I always hoped that someone other than me would show up in usual attire. Also, everyone had these fake smiles plastered across their faces, and I didn’t need to be around the dead to know that everybody was lying, yet trying to keep a happy scene in these dammed outdoors.

What was worse was that they had that huge, bright statue at the front of the stage that was supposed to resemble a shiny Pokeball…it was just nasty to me. Also, they draped the metal frames of the outdoor stage with heavy maroon curtains, which weighed down the pastel evening into a slighter darker number, taking away the full potential of the dying sun’s beauty. I silently sighed under my minted breath as I once again took in the humungous, I-Max-looking flat screen TV which seemed to literally be the wall of the stage.

I had been at these awards since I was only seven (the year I became an elite) and I had to return to these mind-frying awards every year after that. I’m seventeen now, and I’ve come to hate these awards. Yet I had to go not because the stupid trainers wanted me to, but because I had to honor an old friend with my presence to these awards….

“Hello Phoebe,” a smooth and guarded voice said next to me as I sank into my silky red seat.

I flickered my eyes to the clear face next to mine. I didn’t need to turn my head because I automatically knew the owner of the velvet, flowing voice, and I didn’t need him to see me blushing again. No, I had had enough embarrassment and although I made a solid deal with my soul a long time ago, my emotions couldn’t help but fly every time the Hoenn League Champion was close to me.

“Hello Steven,” I whispered to him, trying to keep my voice as smooth as it usually was. I still didn’t look at him, but I instead glanced down to see his large, spidery hands naturally relaxed on his slick black dress pants. The contrast between his pale, white hands against the deep dark fabric was amazing, and it seemed as if his skin glowed. I slowly let my eyes trail up his outfit, up his black vest with the purple, wavy silk that always impressed me with its possible high expense and royalty…up towards his white collar, normal yet worn with a proud gait….and finally, I hesitantly let my curious eyes look over his beautiful face, with his hard, serious line of a mouth and contrasting playful wide eyes that were the same color as his pure white hair. Despite that handsome, innocent outfit, I knew that somewhere on his body Steven had dangerous Pokeballs filled with violent, indestructible Steel Pokemon in them. Not only was he invitingly handsome, but he was also dangerous. It threw me on.

I felt my enemy cheeks attacking me as they burned me and exposed my true emotions. I quickly threw my ogling stare down, breaking away from his smiling face. Although I knew I shouldn’t associate myself with Steven, I couldn’t help but admire him as he successfully tried to calm the situation.

“Ah…when was the last time I saw you?” he questioned lightly, yet loud enough for my sensitive ears to hear.

I straightened myself and collected my previously broken down self as I tried to look like I was thinking, although I wasn’t exactly thinking about his question…

“I do believe we last met a few months ago at the Cinnabar Island National Meeting,” I gently replied to him, focusing my stare on the unknowing Roxanne across the isle from me.

Of course I believed that. I knew that our last meeting at Cinnabar Island was the last time I got to look at his pale face, to intake his eyes and his serious, velvet tone, the last time I got to be around him before retreating to my own little reserve wrapped away in the mountains surrounded by spirits…

This was pathetic. I couldn’t help but deny my feelings to be with him, although here I was (at these retarded Trainer’s Awards), acting uninterested as a snotty princess is to a filthy peasant.

“Oh yes, I remember now….” His perfectly articulated words were ugly to me although they were literally beautiful. Had he forgotten? Why had he used that bored tone? Was I annoying him? Was I an insignificant fly among the butterflies of other girls he knew?

Hysteria bubbled in my black blood and I tried not to think about this stranger sitting next to me in these comfortable seats, although I failed.

The undeniable yet beautiful truth was that he wasn’t a stranger. I had known Steven for years, and I had always thought he was an amazing tamer of these odd animals called Pokemon. I’m not sure what his thoughts to me were, because he never exposed anything but a smile to me, although he didn’t seem to hate me or deny my company or existence. That was pretty normal for any other person, but it wasn’t for me. He didn’t like me as much as I longed for him, and I cringed when I absorbed that fact in my mind.

Through my torture, I could feel Steven tense awkwardly next to me, as if he heard my pathetic debate in his mind.

“You do look rather stunning tonight, as you always do,” he complimented smoothly, although when I turned to look at him, his face was hard, as if he told me to go away in a cryptic code.

I looked as much an islander as I always did, although my place was in the cold mountains instead of the warm beach. Two pink flowers adored both sides of my head, always clearing my head and making me smell nauseatingly sweet. I didn’t care about what the elders said about me as they looked at my bare strap of a top, and the matching dress with the flower print on it. My dark skin marked me for who I was, although my dark brown eyes were cold and probably uncaring.

“Thank you,” I murmured halfheartedly as I kept my eyes down.

Remembering to at least be polite, I flashed my white teeth at him and closed my eyes as I smiled.

“You look good too Steven.” That was an understatement.

I didn’t dare let my childish eyes wander up to him again, for I might have to repeat the entire process over again, and I didn’t want to redden myself again tonight. Instead, I forced myself to pay more attention to the actual event instead of the importance held inside (as known as Steven and Lily.).

The excited commoners, trainers and other people from all around the four regions were chatting noisily as they waited in the stands above designated for them. All the gym leaders had seated themselves by now, and I glanced at them from my point at the center isle with a smile across my face. The Elites were silently chatting to each other in our section, and I was proud to sit with their glory. I was happy that the awards were about to start, as I saw at least a million cameras dotting the place and a few people on the stage talking to each other with serious martyr faces.