LuCarly: First Contestshipping fic since Four Seasons, so it's been awhile. I've decided to try this new thing where I start of a fic with some lyrics of a song, or a definition--Y'know, just to put an image in the reader's head. Also, I've officially decided to spell my username LuCarly instead of Lucarly for no particular reason other than Carly is actually my real name, so I feel like it should get some recognition? Whatever.

Misty: Well, look who's all high-and-mighty now.

LuCarly: Shut-up, I like feeling important. I don't own Pokémon.


Everything

"He's Everything you Want" by Vertical Horizon

He's everything you want
He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why


Drew Hayden was a lot of things.

Arrogant. Impassive. Subtle. Charming. Bold. Smug. Conceited. Proud. Suave. Cordial. Talented. Cocky. Slick. Vain. Charismatic. Haughty. Urbane. Egotistical. Critical. Provocative. Cultured. Supercilious. Cheeky. Diplomatic. Civilized. Pretentious. Sly. Audacious. Engaging. Tantalizing. Affable. Sociable. Gracious. Elegant. Cunning. Romantic.

But he was everything to May Maple. The coordinator spent endless hour training, perfecting strategies, and giving herself mental pep-talks. . . All so she could defeat him, her rival, in battle. Her world revolved around him, her thoughts were consumed by him. Yet, he had to mean nothing to her, because that was the only way she'd win--if he was her enemy. Any other feeling, any connection to him could destroy her; it was just the way the world of contesting worked.

"And the winner is Drew of Larousse city!" Immediately, the crowd erupted into a fit of cheers that May could hear from the waiting room. The grassy-haired coordinator appeared on the screen, smirking as his piercing green eyes stared directly at the camera. May could feel her heart stop, just for a moment. There had always been something about those eyes that unnerved her; and perhaps it was because when he looked at her, she felt as though he was staring straight at her emotions as if they were laid out on a display table, like her skin was invisible, and he could see her heart.

That he could see what was in it.

She exhaled, nervous. Since he was the victor of the second round of the semi-finals, he would therefore be her opponent in the finals. May definitely had confidence in her Pokémon, as did Drew. But unlike her male rival, she didn't have confidence in herself. And she knew it too. Worse, she was jealous that Drew had the ability to be so sure of himself.

The young trainer suddenly felt a warmth on her shoulder, a hand. May glanced behind her to see Solidad, smiling tenderly. Solidad hadn't actually entered the contest as she already had all the ribbons necessary for entrance into the Grand Festival, but decided to tag along for moral support.

"You okay?" the pink-haired coordinator asked gently.

"Yeah. . .Just worried, that's all." And May had reason to be. The Grand Festival was merely weeks away, but she still had four ribbons--not enough to enter into the grandiose event.

"I'm sure it's just the nerves," reassured Solidad, patting her back on her back. May nodded and swallowed. Hard. "Anyway," continued Solidad, straightening up, "you should probably start heading over to the stadium. You wouldn't want to be late for your match, would you?" Words weren't happening for the young lady, so she just nodded, again. She turned and stiffly started her journey to the battlefield.

Where she would meet Drew. Her opponent. Her rival. Her nothing. Her everything.

May looked up, and saw the entrance to the stadium looming ahead; the mix of the sun and outdoor lighting made it look as though she were walking blindly towards a white oblivion, to a world of nothing. That is, until she saw a figure stand out against it, leaving the field. May stopped.

"Drew?" she inquired, tilting her head slightly after recognizing the emerald-eyed teen. "Why are you leaving the stadium?" Drew's face contorted slightly.

"Why are you going to it?" he asked, not sounding so much bemused as he did satirical. When May didn't reply, only staring at him with a dumbfounded look upon her face, Drew pursed his lips slightly, and smiled. "I guess you didn't hear the announcement; our battle has been postponed till' tomorrow since the sun is starting to set, and the judges don't want the contest to go on into the night."

A wave of relief washed over May; the battle was being held off, meaning she'd have an extra 24 hours of training, more time to improve her Pokémon stratagem. Yet, at the same time, she felt disappointed. She wanted to get out there and perform in front of that crowd, to awe them with her talents, to awe Drew with her talents.

Suddenly, May felt her gut churn uneasily--Drew. She still had to prove herself to him. She still had to defeat him. She had expected to get the whole battle over with right then, but it now had to wait until morning--which was surely enough time for her mentality to plummet back into the cycle of failure. She bit her lip, so hard that it actually hurt. Her unsettled hands began to tremble; this was where that cycle began.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starved; it's been hours since I've last eaten," said her opponent, snapping May out of her falling mindset. "Would you mind coming to the café with me? My treat."

Her eyes widened slightly. Was he suggesting that they go out? Together? She could hardly believe it, that he would overstep the definite boundary, which had for so many years been hammered into her head until it was chiseled in, like on a rock. Suddenly, Drew let out a low, mocking chuckle.

"I know this is a lot for your brain to process, May, but--" began Drew sarcastically before the young woman standing opposite of him cut him off, her blood boiling. He always had the nerve to insult her, to nitpick at her imperfections; and the hard part about it was, he actually knew where the places to poke, the places where it would hurt most. But at the same time, he seemed to know how far he could push her without the poor girl being reduced to tears. It was maddening.

The thought crossed May's mind briefly, what if he was just inviting her to drag her confidence level lower, so that he could win? It wouldn't surprise her. It was very much like something a rival would do.

But was it something Drew would do?

"--Yes, fine, I'll go to the café with you," interrupted May, her cheeks red from anger. Drew crossed him arms, amused by her reaction. It was much too easy to get a rise out of the younger coordinator; and maybe that's why he always provoked her.

"Fine then," replied Drew with another chuckle.


May shifted uneasily in her seat as she fixed her eyes on the grassy-haired male sitting across from her, sipping his coffee contently. Feeling her curious stare on him, Drew lifted his head up to look directly into her sapphire irises. May seemed to panic, and she tossed her head aside, breaking the connection.

"What?" he inquired, nearly sounding bored. She had been acting so. . . odd. Normally, she was very talkative, her face beaming with excitement and optimism. Today, she was unusually quiet and solemn, as if she were mourning death itself. In truth, it disturbed Drew. He had teased her five times already, and only twice did she retaliate--which indicated to her rival that there was perhaps something bothering May.

"N-nothing. . ." she stammered, her face slightly pink from embarrassment. Well, at least he had gotten her to blush again, Drew noted to himself.

"Mhm, sure. What's got you down?" he asked, believing she was lying; lies spluttered and stumbled, but the truth was firm and powerful. (It also helped that May was a God-awful liar and actor.) Her head snapped up. Was it really that easy to notice? She opened her mouth to reply, prepared to spill out her fears and feelings, but she quickly shut it. What was she thinking? The main root of her problems was Drew; to share that would give away her weakest spot, and ruin her chances of victory in the morning. Still. . .

"Hello, my name is Josie; what can I get for you two today?" asked the waitress, putting a halt to the silence that had fallen over the two, as well as dousing Drew's chances in getting an answer. The green-eyed coordinator looked genuinely annoyed at the poor timing, but he knew it couldn't be helped.

"I'd like a bowl of French Onion soup," he replied, pushing the menu back to Josie, which she accepted. Another silence fell as the waitress and Drew looked to May, who realized that she still needed to order.

"Um. . . I'm not hungry. . . " she said awkwardly, also returning the menu to Josie. Drew heaved a heavy sigh, and glanced back up at the waitress, making sure to earn her eye contact.

"Then we'll have another bowl." Josie nodded, scribbling down the second order before she left. May glowered at Drew, her sights settled on his brow to avoid his piercing stare. Why had he ordered for her anyway when she declined? Did he do it just to irk her? May cleared her throat to speak.

"I already said I'm not hungry," she said defiantly, folding her hands and setting them on her lap. Drew rolled his eyes, and set down his hot drink, leaning back into his chair and folding his arms. He then fixed his eyes on hers, which were still struggling to avert themselves from his intense gaze. If no one knew any better, it would look as though he were an older brother about to chastise his younger sibling.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked firmly. May was about to reply when she paused; when was the last time she ate? She skipped breakfast since she overslept and was going to be late to the contest and also refused to eat lunch because she knew she wouldn't be able to keep it down with how nervous she was. May licked her chapped lips, hating the fact that Drew was going to win this fight; so, she remained silent, which was enough of an answer for her opponent.

"You have to eat, May. It's just not good for you." he said after a moment, frowning. Something was definitely wrong. Drew knew May to be what he so graciously liked to call a "food whore", thus knowing that she wasn't eating was discomforting, even to someone as indifferent as he was.

"Since when do you care about my health?" she snapped, snarling as she unconsciously allowed her gaze to fall back down--so that she was staring straight into his relentless eyes. Her tongue suddenly loosened, and her anger melted away like ice when held under the hot Summer sun. May could feel a noticeable change in her heartbeat, as well as her skin's temperature. Drew smirked; he had successfully snagged her attention.

"My, my, very touchy tonight, aren't we?" he asked teasingly before he adjusted himself, suddenly becoming serious. "Now, tell me, what's wrong?" May looked hesitant as she pursed her lips tightly together, hoping to prevent any words from rebelliously slipping out. She couldn't tell him; she just couldn't.

"Excuse me? Your meal is here," said Josie, appearing suddenly with the two large bowls of steaming soup, setting one down for May and Drew. The two coordinators seem to recoil slightly in shock, forgetting that they had even ordered. May blushed, wondering how long the waitress had been standing there, and how much of their conversation she had heard. . . "Is there anything else I can get you?" continued Josie politely, fixing her posture to stand up straight. Drew shook his head.

"Er. . . No, thanks." he replied, picking up his spoon as if to indicate to her that all was well. The waitress eyed the pair warily for a brief moment, then bowed, and was off to attend to her other customers. The male teen narrowed his eyes at her, suspecting she had been rudely listening in on their conversation, but he soon dismissed the whole scene as he settled down to enjoy his meal. May watched him briefly and then glanced down at her identical dish, watching the thin layer of cheese atop the red liquid bubble like magma, clearly still too hot for human consumption.

"Eat," said Drew plainly, sipping his own soup carefully, hoping not to burn his tongue. It wasn't so much a suggestion as it was an order. May scowled at him, and then at her food. In truth, she didn't really care for French Onion soup--or soup, for that matter. But, she could suddenly feel and hear her stomach groan in its starvation, which made the brunette realize that she really was hungry. Her cheeks flushed pink, hoping Drew hadn't heard her belly's tantrum, and dipped her spoon into the red broth. She then brought the substance to her lips, and after blowing the steam away, tentatively swallowed the soup.

May then smiled, finding that it actually tasted quite good; better than she expected. Drew noticed her complacency, and smirked.

"So?" he asked smugly, knowing that he could now taunt her again; at least, for a little while. May beamed at him, her cheerful, happy-go-lucky self having returned now that her hunger was being satisfied. "I feel a lot better," she replied, almost dumbly.

"Good," began Drew, pausing to take another sip of his food, "because, I can't have my opponent starving tomorrow. Now, how is that self-confidence of yours doing?" May gasped. He knew?! But--

"B-But, how?" she found herself asking in disbelief, her words mirroring her inner thoughts--which was exactly what she was trying to avoid in the first place. Because after that, there was no telling what other secret thoughts could roll off of her tongue: fears of the future, regrets of past decisions, ramblings of petty troubles, hopes for happiness, feelings of love--all of which could be used against her in battle, something she learned from Harley when he unfairly shared her Tentacruel experience with the audience.

Drew set down his spoon beside his bowl and stared intently into May's eyes, saying, "From the moment I saw you walking toward the stadium with that distant look on your face, I had feeling something was up." He didn't stop to notice how May's lower lip trembled nervously, or how the flesh upon her cheeks sported a rosy red. "I swear, May, you're like an open book; it's so easy to tell what you're thinking." The young coordinator blinked, and lowered her head shyly.

"Is that a good thing, or--?" she asked quietly before Drew cut her off.

"--It's a good thing for me," he replied, folding his hands and casually resting his chin upon them. "It could go either way for you, however; it just depends on whether you want me to know or not." May's lips cracked a smile, though she quickly dissembled it with a frown, remembering the contest that was to take place the next day.

"I don't want you to know," she retorted.

"Then I'm afraid it's not a good thing for you," he said coolly, narrowing his eyes at her nonchalantly. May blinked and then gritted her teeth, fuming at the realization that he had playfully led her to believe that he suddenly could make it a 'good thing'--which of course, wasn't true. He couldn't change the fact that he was so damn receptive and that she was so damn open.

"You. . . You. . . Agh!" she cried in exasperation, letting her head fall to the wood of the table. Drew closed his eyes and let out a chuckle, running his fingers through his hair, seemingly frustrated. Sighing, he called for Josie and asked for the bill. As soon as she brought the expenses to him, May sat up and reached into her purse, but Drew stopped her, reaching out to touch her wrist. May snapped her hand back as if she had been burned, blushing furiously.

"I already told you, this is my treat," he said, pulling out two twenty-dollar bills out of his wallet. May opened her mouth to protest, feeling that if he paid for their dinner, that would make their outing. . . a date. She swallowed, and shut her mouth, too flustered to even bring it up. After paying, Drew stood and then offered his hand out to May so that she could do the same. However, she brushed him off in her fear letting her emotions grow too powerful. The green-haired teen seemed unfazed, however.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to the center," he offered cordially.


A blanket of darkness had fallen over the sky as the sun had descended completely behind the horizon, leaving only the moon and stars to be nature's source of light. May and Drew walked side-by-side in silence, with her arms wrapped around herself and his hands stuffed into his pockets. The brunette kept her eyes glued to the ground while his were constantly watching her.

May glanced at her watch; she sighed inaudibly, realizing that all that extra time she hoped to have for training was gone. She noted, however, that Drew, her opponent, was also at this loss--which made her feel a little better. Suddenly, Drew cleared his throat in an attempt to regain her attention. It worked, as she carefully looked up to him, though she was avoiding his gaze again.

"You know, it is just a contest," said Drew reassuringly, irritated that she simply refused to make eye contact with her. May's shoulder's sagged, incredulous at how he really did seem to have the ability to read her mind. She sighed as her eyes fell back to the ground, as if it were some sort of safety net.

"I know that," she began, brushing her bangs out of her face as she spoke, which Drew recognized as a nervous habit--meaning, she was close to sharing just what was truly bothering her, "but, I'm. . . worried since I know that the Grand Festival is coming really soon, and I'm still lacking one ribbon."

"I'm in the same boat as you." May's eyes widened as it dawned on her that he was right; why else would he have entered the contest unless he still needed more ribbons? Drew smiled at her, and went on saying, "I must say, May, as much as I hate to admit it, you have gotten a lot better. I used to always be one step ahead of you, and now, were on equal grounds. That's a definite improvement."

May could feel her face heating up for the unempth time that night, flattered by his compliment--flattered that he had even humbled himself enough to give her one. "Y-You mean it?" she stammered shyly. She realized that they were now in front of the Pokémon center, which brought them both to a stop.

The male coordinator pulled his hands out of his pockets, holding a single red rose. "I wouldn't lie to you, now would I? I mean, I've always been known to be brutally honest, haven't I?" May laughed quietly as she accepted his gift, knowing that he was, again, right. There never was a moment Drew hesitated to tell her what was on his mind--especially if it happened to be criticism of her skills.

"Well, good luck tomorrow," he said, offering out his hand for the second time that night. This time, she accepted it, shaking it. The feeling of his skin against hers made her feel like she was evaporating, that she would vanish in a puff of steam. May almost forgot to breathe as his eyes, those wonderful, soul-searching green eyes connected with hers.

"And. . . And to you too," she replied airily. Then, in a single, but firm tug of her hand, Drew pulled May closer to him so that he could plant a soft kiss against the area between her cheekbone and temple. Though it didn't last long, May was sure that in that moment, she was going to die of a heart attack; her world had come to a screeching halt with that one sweet gesture, something that defied any and all rules of coordinators, written or unwritten.

After he pulled away, she asked, spluttering as she blushed, "W-w-what was that for?" Drew smirked.

"Because you need a little extra luck."

Drew Hayden was a lot of things.

Arrogant. Impassive. Subtle. Charming. Bold. Smug. Conceited. Proud. Suave. Cordial. Talented. Cocky. Slick. Vain. Charismatic. Haughty. Urbane. Egotistical. Critical. Provocative. Cultured. Supercilious. Cheeky. Diplomatic. Civilized. Pretentious. Sly. Audacious. Engaging. Tantalizing. Affable. Sociable. Gracious. Elegant. Cunning. Romantic.

But he meant everything to May Maple.

Fin.


LuCarly: The first part was really hard to write because I didn't want to use a thesaurus for all the ways to describe Drew since whole paragraph would sound fake. So I sat at the computer for like twenty minutes, thinking of synonyms for the words "Arrogant" and "Charming." I was quite pleased with my list. Huh. So vocabulary study is actually useful.

Misty: Do you actually pay attention to that stuff?

LuCarly: Yes; I do. Reviews are love. So if you love me, review. Of you don't love me, review anyway.