Pokémon Fool's Gold | Orre & Galar Fanfiction

Chapter 22: Gym Leader's Guidance

A crescent moon hung over the canyon walls surrounding Pyrite Town. Cassia turned from the highway into an ominous tunnel, where most lights were smashed and few drivers bothered with headlights. Grimy buildings, dimly illuminated by the lights inside, stacked clumsily up against the town's russet walls. The slightly more upmarket Pyrite Heights apartments now glittered above. Seth looked down. His parents lived on the top floor, where his mother Rui ran a Pokémon Day Care, but he didn't want Wes telling his friends how easy the Gym Challenge was and how Orre was different 'back in my day.' Trip offered his grandma's house. He leaned over the front seats to give Cassia directions. The van threaded through dark, urine-scented alleys to reach a dead end. In the shadow of jutting rock, rusty cylinders circled a square where kids played. Teenagers smoked and kissed behind dumpsters.

Trip knocked on the crudely patched-up door of a cylinder in the corner. There was no answer. He took out his keys to let himself in. The door was stiff. He had to shove it. They stepped onto a gaudy yellow carpet. Crates substituded for furniture. Trip's 'room' was a sleeping bag, Cubone doll and football posters in a dusty corner of the main room. Seth felt guilty. He should have just taken them to his place...

Amber, meanwhile, was incredulous. The way his grandma spoke, the way Trip himself spoke, it was impossible to imagine they were this poor. She surveyed the posters. It was clear football was his true passion. Why did she stop him accepting that scholarship? He could have got out of here and earned them some money if nothing else.

'Sorry I can't offer a bed. Feel free to put your sleeping bags wherever. The bathroom's over there.'

He gestured to a stained door. Amber wandered in out of curiosity. Black mould crawled across the damp ceiling. Floral shower gels and lotions were arranged on a shelf over a silver bath. The toilet seat was clean, but rickety. She peered into the remaining room. Fluffy pink sheets covered a bed. It didn't surprise her to see a real wardrobe and dressing table scattered with expensive make-up. She was starting to wonder if Rosen cared about her grandson as much as she claimed.

'Trip?'

Amber tapped him on the shoulder. 'Can I talk to you?'

They stepped outside. He looked suddenly embarrassed.

'Sorry. I know it's a shithole.'

'I don't care, but maybe it is time you question your grandma. Why did she stop you taking that scholarship? I know you don't know, but think about it – is that reasonable? Of course it isn't.'

'I think she wanted me to be a Trainer. Like her.'

'Well, that isn't fair! You wanted to be a football player, really. Didn't you?'

'I don't know...'

'Yes, you do.'

'Well, whatever. It's too late now. Look at this place. I won't get another offer.'

'Why not? Write to them. Explain your grandma discouraged you. When's your next game? Invite the scout.'

'I can't. I'm meant to be dedicating all my time to Pokémon. Grandma will be pissed.'

'What about you? Shouldn't you be pissed with her? Write to them, Trip.'

'But I can't spell.'

'I can.'

She took a notebook and pencil case from her backpack, patting the curb beside her. He uncertainly sat.

'What am I going to say...?'

'Dear whatever the scout's name was...'

'Frankie Keegan.'