Dreams are a funny sort of thing.

You're told you're entire life to go for your dreams. To embrace them. To try and capture them.

It's really really weird.

After all, they tell you to do that, but then scorn you the second you even try.

They say that only you can write your own destiny, but I think that's something they say because they have to.

When it became clear that battling wasn't my thing, my father began training my brother.

Even though he was five years younger than me, already he had more potential. He loved battling and enjoyed being with Pokémon every moment of every day.

I however was different.

I took long walks around my hometown. I explored the surrounding forests. I carried my camera everywhere and took pictures.

I didn't hate battling…but it wasn't my passion.

Probably in an attempt to change me into a battler, my father began sending me to the Professor's, hoping that my love for Pokémon would grow there.

Instead, my love for photography grew.

The shutter of my camera clicks: once, twice, before I remove it from my face. I stare down at the digital screen and smile before casually deleting both of the photos.

After all, my boss didn't want photos of these.

The magazine I was working at, Coordinator's Weekly, weren't looing for pictures of cherry blossoms in bloom or pictures of fantastic skyscrapers.

No, the all-exclusive magazine wanted pictures of (big surprise) Coordinators and Pokémon.

Not that I had anything against that, it was just that after spending days, weeks, months, and years on photographing Pokémon, Pokémon, Pokémon, for the professor, for this magazine, for that magazine, I felt that it would be hard to capture something…new.

But then again, it wasn't like I had a say in it.

So, with a blank expression, I walk over the Contest Hall. It was a pretty fantastic building I would've loved to take pictures of the infrastructure but instead I force myself through the audience and stand next to the other photographers. They chatter excitedly around me, each one of them hoping to find the next "big thing" and the next "huge show stopper."

All that's on my mind though is lunch.

Just as I suspected, each Coordinator and their Pokémon is the same story.

I snap a few pictures here and there, but for the most part I watch (feeling bored) as the Coordinators twirled around the stage with a baton or a hoop and made their Pokémon do tricks.

I stifle a yawn and try to keep my eyes open as the announcer loudly applauds each contestant.

"That was a wonderful appeal by Haru and his Abra!" the announcer yells. The audience cheers as Haru and Abra bow and exit the stage. "And now for our last contestant, the one and only, Drew Hayden!"

I nearly jump in surprise when the audience bursts into a louder, even more powerful yell of applause. I quickly look around to see nearly every audience member standing up and cheering. A group of girls and boys were even holding a banner that had the words "We love Drew!" painted on it.

"What in the world?' I whisper, feeling confused and a little light-headed. I look back at the stage and watch as a figure slowly made it's way to the center.

I couldn't help but gasp a little.

While the other Coordinators had been bright eyed newbies, you could tell that this Drew person was…. experienced.

For one thing, the outfit Drew was wearing wasn't some pair of torn jeans and ratty t-shirt or some plain looking dress.

No. What Drew was wearing made the whole Coordinating business feel…real.

Drew was wearing a sleeveless red dress that fell, like a pool of blood, to the floor. Drew's green hair was pinned back and I could make out a red flower tucked into it. The red heels on Drew's feet clipped softly on the contest ground.

It was like Drew was the embodiment of a bleeding rose.

I could feel my eyes widen as Drew released a magnificent Flygon onto the stage. The Flygon took to the air and spat fire on the ground before digging its body into the flames. I watched in fascination as the Pokémon seemed to dance and wiggle with the hot inferno.

This Appeal…. this performance…It was so different from everybody else's.

"Who is she?" I muttered in awe. I heard a snort come from next to me.

"Do you live under a rock or something?" a photographer asked. I tore my eyes away to glare at her. The photographer gave a cocky grin at me.

"Well rookie that's Drew Hayden and he-" she annunciated the "he," making sure I heard correctly, "Is one of the most well known Coordinators in the world. He's won the Johto Grand Festival and the Kanto one. He's known for his style and good looks. And with a figure like that he's not afraid to wear dresses and suits. His mother is from Kalos and his father is from Hoenn. He's not some stupid newbie and I'm surprised that someone working for Coordinator's Weekly never heard about him." she said peering at my access badge.

I look back at Drew. I watch as he commanded his Flygon with ease and sophistication. Each quick movement of his hand, each swooping motion, each delicate call seemed so…. graceful. Yet there was an excitement there as well. I could hear a sliver of it in his voice as he spoke.

He was perfection I realized and raised my camera to my eyes. I took pictures of his Flygon's appeal and then I snapped pictures of Drew. I frowned.

He was perfection and yet….

And yet….

And yet….

There was something…. fake about him.

It was no surprise that Drew won the contest.

It was painfully obvious that he would win.

I couldn't help but feel bad for the other dejected Coordinators as they watched Drew receive the Contest ribbon.

Yet at the same time, I knew that this would be a wake up call for them. A chance for them to up their game and train harder.

Or to give up and just find something else to do.

I didn't follow the rest of the photographers outside to try to catch extra snapshots of Drew though. I knew that my boss would've wanted me too and would be furious that I didn't but for some reason taking another picture of that guy made me feel…. uncomfortable.

His appeal was amazing, there was no doubt about that, yet there was something in Drew that felt…fake.

I couldn't place it, but I knew there was something different about that boy.

Instead, I hang back and pretend to check over my photos as I listen to the audience and the other photographers rush out. It wasn't until the last stumbling child leaves that I look up.

The empty Contest Hall seemed a bit scary now that there were no longer voices and bright flashing lights, yet there was an odd calmness that now filled it.

I take a quick look around and snap some pictures of the empty audience and contest stage. Yet I couldn't help but wonder as peered at the stage from my lens.

The way Drew had occupied that space was different from the way the other Coordinators had. While the others had only filled a fraction of the stage, Drew's presence seemed to fill the how stage. I lowered the camera.

How could the same stage be so different? How could one Coordinator make the stage look so small, yet another fill it to the brim with excitement?

My feet begin moving and before I can even process what I'm doing, I'm climbing under the velvet rope and walking onto the stage.

My sneakers make a small tapping noise as I towards the center. Even though the bright flash spotlight isn't on, I still have to cover my face with one of my hands.

So this was what those Coordinators and Drew saw when they were on stage. Even though there was no audience, I couldn't help but feel self conscious, all alone and by myself. I closed my eyes and try to picture the emotions the contestants must've been feeling.

Fear, anxiety, nervousness, but also hope, excitement, happiness.

I frown, wondering what Drew was feeling when he was here.

Opening my eyes I take a few steps back and try to picture the flames of Drew's Flygon. I try to picture the way he would raise his hand to call out the appeals. I try to picture the feeling of the air intensifying around me as Flygon flew high above the heads of the judges.

Taking a quick look around, I raise my left hand like Drew did and call out,

"Flygon use Dig!"

I imitate the way Drew flicked his hand in the air and then call out, "Follow that up with a Dragon Breath!"

I took a few steps back and spun, pretending that Flygon had just erupted from the ground. I closed my eyes again before snapping them open.

"Now Flygon use Fly!" I called out. I imagined Flygon extending its mighty wings and catapulting itself into the air, letting the Dragon Breath gently curl around itself. I couldn't help but grin.

"Now Flygon cut through that Dragon Breath using Aerial Ace!"

I mentally pictured Flygon's fist lighting up and slashing the flames of Dragon Breathe apart. I giggle as I thought up of another appeal. Just before I could open my mouth to speak though, a different voice cuts me off.

"Having fun aren't we?"

I freeze, my hand still raised to the sky. Turning my head stiffly, I look to the right of me to see a lone figure with blonde hair and dark sunglasses standing by the entrance to the stage.

I feel my face heat up and I quickly drop my hand. "S-sorry." I say quickly looking down. "I just wanted to get some pictures of the stage."

The figure shakes his head and walked toward me. "If you were just taking photos," he says, his voice echoing through the empty Hall, "You would've left twenty minutes ago."

I felt a nervous chill of cold air hit the back of my neck. "W-well," I said stuttering, "It takes time to find the perfect angle that isn't obscured by bad lighting. And…and I wanted to make sure the photos had depth to them. And I wanted to make sure that it fully captured what the Coordinators felt when they were on stage. And-"

I continues to ramble on about perspectives and angles, for what feels like an eternity, all the while my face feeling hotter and hotter. The man doesn't say anything and just listens to my explanations.

When I finally stop speaking, a chuckle escapes his lips. "I take it that pictures mean a lot to you?"

I nod my head quickly. "I-I'll leave here in a minute I swear I-"

"Save it," he says. He takes a few more steps forward and comes dangerously close to my face. He cracks a smile at me.

"How about instead of taking pictures of an empty Contest Hall," he says, removing his sunglasses and looking down at me, "I let you take pictures of something more…interesting?"

My eyes widen as his green eyes meets my brown ones. I gasp slightly,

"Drew?"

Drew doesn't speak a single word as he leads me back to the hotel he is staying. I can see the photographers and paparazzi surrounding around the elevators, hoping to catch of glimpse of green hair.

They all ignore the blonde haired man and his accompanying photographer that pushed their way to the elevator.

It's not until we enter the elevator and are by ourselves once again that Drew finally speaks.

"I don't remember any photographers ever entering the stage and making up their own appeals before." he comments. I can feel my cheeks begin to burn and I looked down embarrassed.

"Where are we going?" I ask, as the elevator goes from the lobby, the second floor, to the third floor.

"My room." Drew says simply. "You're lucky you caught my attention Miss Coordinator wanna be. I'm feeling nice today so I'll let you go back to your little magazine with some good photos."

The cockiness in his voice makes me clench my fist in annoyance. "Who says I want photos of you?" I ask.

Drew laughs. "Why else would you have come with me? Unless you want some tips."

Before I can answer the elevator stops and the sliding doors open and with quick steps Drew walks out. I stumble to follow him.

"A little clumsy aren't we?" he asks as walks down the hallway. He pauses in front of a pair of double doors and takes out a key card. He looks back at me and winks.

"Ready?" he asks. Without waiting for my response, he pushes opens the doors and walks confidently in.

I follow slowly behind. I gaze around at his suite. It was bigger than my whole apartment and much, much nicer than it too. Large windows, a full kitchen, several doors leading to different rooms. I gape at the expensive looking furniture and the killer view.

"Wow." I whisper. Another laugh from Drew.

"Perks of being a high class Coordinator." He says. "Close you mouth and follow me."

I shoot a quick glare at him, but Drew is already walking through one of the doors. I follow behind him and find myself in a massive master bedroom. One look at my face has Drew laughing again.

"Well Miss Rookie Coordinator," he teases, "What do you want to see me in?" He removes the glasses from his eyes and the wig from his hair. "A dress? A suit?"

I can't help but sigh. "Are we really doing this?" I ask. Drew just smirks at me.

"I'm letting you take pictures of me Miss Coordinator's Weekly," he says. "You should be thanking me. I imagine your boss will triple your paycheck the second you show her my pictures."

I can't help but frown. As annoyingly arrogant and truthful his words are, there's that…fakeness that's there again. Like the feeling I felt at the Contest Hall.

This Drew, this fake Drew that I kept on feeling. That I didn't know or understand, I wanted to break past it for some reason.

"Nothing." I say, switching on my camera. I look up to see Drew's confused expression.

"Keep your pants on but remove your shirt." I elaborated.

Drew looks shocked for a split second before giving me a cocky smirk. "Brave aren't we?" he says, but complies with my wishes. The white shirt he's wearing slips from his body to the floor.

"Where do you want me?" he asks.

"Any where's fine." I say, raising the camera to my eyes. As I peer through the lens I watch as Drew poses for me and puts on that familiar expression on his face. I frown.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asks, cockily. "Am I making you uncomfo-?"

"Don't do that face." I cut him off. Then add, "It's ugly."

The shocked expression appears on Drew's face and I quickly take a picture of it. I smile.

"Even that's a better expression."

"H-hey!" he says, getting over his surprise. "That wasn't-!"

I snap another picture and watch as an annoyed look crosses Drew's face.

"Will you give me a second to-" he says but I stop him again.

"Why do you Coordinate?" I ask, my fingers trembling a little as I hover over the "capture" button.

Another shocked expression, another snapshot.

"What do you-? Stop taking-!" Drew's voice becomes dangerously close to cracking.

"Why do you Coordinate?" I ask again, pressing him. "What do you like about?"

"Will you just-!" he yells.

I ignore him. "The fame? The attention? You've already won the Grand Festival twice, why do you Coordinate?"

I watch as the rage builds on his face. His expression is almost unrecognizable now.

"It's my dream." Drew mutters through gritted teeth. "Now will you just stop and-"

"What's the point of dreams?" I ask. "What's the point of dreaming? Did you even want to do this in the first place?"

I take photo after photo, watching as different expressions morph on Drew's face.

"Am I annoying? Am I pissing you off? Is this the real you?" I ask.

The camera is knocked out of my hands and I hear it clatter to the floor. I wince at the sound before I feel myself being pressed against the wall, hard.

"You don't know shit about me." Drew's voice whispers in my ear. I can feel his hand gripping my wrist, tight. So tight it feels like it's going to break. "So stop doing this now."

There's a moment of silence between us. I can feel Drew's hot breath on my neck and I can feel his cold eyes piercing into my gaze. Despite the panic building up in me and the freezing feeling that's overtaking my body, I somehow manage to squeak out the words,

"You're sad."

The expression on Drew's face changes in an instant to something that looks almost looks…remorseful. Something that looks almost innocent. It's so different from before I can't help but smile, wishing that my camera was still in my hands.

It's not a moment later though that Drew's lips are on mine.

My boss somehow doesn't fire me.

Despite the lack of Drew pictures I presented her, she seemed please just to see the new Coordinator rookies.

"Splendid May!" she gushes. "You really do have an eye for photography!"

I smile politely and give her my thanks.

She smiles back and winks at me.

"Would you be willing to do it again?"

Coordinator's Weekly begins sending me all around Hen. I visit Contest after Contest, taking pictures of rookies, of rising stars, of ex-Gym Leaders, and of other famous and not so famous types of people.

And more than once, I see Drew again.

After what had transpired in the hotel room, it seemed that every time we saw each other there would be an unspoken connection.

He would enter the stage, wearing either a three-piece suit and tie or a long elegant dress, and he would Appeal, creating mini universes and stars.

It was only when he would take his bow that his eyes would trace the crowd, looking for something or someone.

Somehow, his gaze always fell to me.

And as if an understanding has passed between us, we would always meet up after the Contest and return to his hotel room.

There, I would take pictures of him and he would rake his hands through my short hair. There we would talk of photos and of Contests and not of the world around us.

There we would kiss until our breaths became heavy and our minds became light headed.

And there we would wake up next to each other in the morning.

"You regret it."

He says that after the first time I stayed over.

I watch as he brushes a hand through his hair and I can hear him sigh.

"Sorry." he mutters. "I don't know…. I don't usually do this…."

I smile at him.

"Neither do I." I answer.

A relationship like this isn't healthy.

I know that it isn't. Between us the only thing we know is pictures, Contests, and the name Drew.

He doesn't even know my name.

But still, something like this feels right.

I don't know what, but every time I talk to Drew, every time I have to put up with his teasing, every time I take a picture of him, every time I wake up next to him,

It feels right.

It's only when my brother calls one day that reality hits me at full force.

"May…Mom and Dad are getting divorced."

I separate myself from the Contest world.

I ask my boss if I could take pictures of different things. She looks at me confused and asks why.

I can only shrug my shoulders and tell her that I am going through some issues.

She doesn't press me on it, but I can see the sadness in her eyes as she gives me a different job.

It's when I'm taking pictures of the cherry blossoms that I realize they no longer fill me with happiness.

I lower my camera and stare at the pink flowers waving in the wind. I watch as petals drift from the branches like some sort of dance.

Yet it doesn't excite me. Not like it used to. I watch as petals swirl and dip and begin to carpet the dirt road like some sort of confetti.

It all seemed so…. simple now.

Of course there was nothing wrong with simple, but now as I gazed at the petals I couldn't help but compare the air of being in nature with air of a Contest Hall.

I close my eyes and imagine the rush and the excitement each Contest seemed to now somehow hold. I imagine the sweat pouring down the Coordinators faces as they called Appeals. I imagine the fire and ice and electricity that would sometimes fill the stage at the same time,

And I imagine Drew, standing in that red dress I first saw him in, commanding his Flygon to break the earth at its feet.

The rush…the excitement…the passion….

I could feel it coursing through my body like some kind of adrenaline. I opened my eyes and looked at the cherry blossoms.

And for the first time in a long time a small part of me that I had thought I had lost forever speaks up.

"It would've been nice if I had become a Coordinator."

It's three months until I see Drew again.

This time though, it's not in a Contest Hall that we meet. Rather it's during another one of my nature photo shoots.

I don't see him at first. I'm too busy peering through my lens and trying to find the perfect shot when someone suddenly blocks my way.

I frown, annoyed at the rudeness of this person.

"Can you please move?" I ask. The person doesn't comply. Instead he or she reaches down and lifts the camera out of my hands.

"Hey!" I yell, "What are you-?"

The words die on my tongue as I come face to face with Drew.

"Where were you?" he asks, skipping over any forms of small talk and any types of initial introductions. "Where were you?"

"What?" I can only whisper, my mind becoming foggy as I register that Drew was actually in front of me.

His eyes narrow. "Where were you?" he asks again, this time more harshly. He glares down at me, waiting for my response.

Instead I frown at him. "I don't need to answer that." I said, trying to snatch back my camera. Drew only takes a step closer to me.

"Where were you?" he asks again. I shake my head.

"I don't need to answer that." I say again, this time taking a step back.

"Yes you do." Drew says, taking a step forward. His green eyes become almost menacing and I can't help but notice the dark circles around them.

I shake my head, "Drew-"

"You just left." he cuts me off. "You just disappeared. I looked for you at every Contest but you weren't there." I can see rage begin to build on his face.

"Do you know how that made me feel? The one person I actually care about just suddenly vanishes and doesn't say anything. Doesn't make contact, doesn't leave a note, just…. leaves."

I remain quiet.

"How could you just leave me? I thought we had something. I thought-"

"What do we have?!" I bark back at him. The sound of my voice seems to shock him and he takes a step back.

"All we do when we're together is just kiss and take photos and talk!" I yell. "We don't do anything! We don't even leave the hotel room!" I can feel my voice cracking but I press on. "We're not dating, yet we're not friends. Face it Drew we're just two strangers! You don't-" I pause and let my breathing return to normal before I add, "You don't even know my name."

The silence that fills the air around us is almost deafening.

I wait, barely holding my breath, to see what Drew will do. However, Drew doesn't move. Rather, he pulls away from me and looks down, his blonde wig covering his eyes.

I can't help but sigh when I see his expression. Reaching out, I take my camera back from him and begin to walk away.

"W-wait!" he yells, suddenly pulling on my arm. I pause.

"What?" I ask, not looking at him.

"I…I….I want to make this work…." he says, his voice slipping at the end of each word he says. "I'm sorry I didn't before but….can we start over? Maybe…Maybe…"

"Reintroduce ourselves?" I ask. I can feel his grip tighten around my arm.

"Yeah." he says. He quickly clears his throat.

"I'm Drew…It's…. It's nice to meet you."

I glance over my shoulder and watch in fascination as Drew's ears begin to turn red. I can't help but stifle a laugh.

"May." I answer back, smiling a little. "My name's May."

Sometimes I would wake to find his hand clasped around mine.

Drew would still be sleeping yet his brow would be furrowed as if even in his dreams he was planning, strategizing, and thinking.

The expression never failed to make me feel sad.

Thinking back, he had never completely answered my "dream" question, yet somehow it seemed that it didn't need to be answered.

"Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I pause mid shot and remove the camera from my face. "What do you mean?" I ask.

Drew gives a slight shrug and continues grooming his Roserade. "It's just that in the beginning all you would do was talk about photos and pictures and now…." His voice trailed off as he ran a thin comb across Roserade's white wisps.

"Now?" I ask. Drew shook his head.

"It's not important." he said, "Please ignore what I just said."

Yet his expression said otherwise.

One day, Drew tosses me a Pokeball.

I catch it, confused. "What's this?"

"A pecha berry." Drew answers sarcastically. I stick my tongue out at him yet all he does is chuckle.

"Seriously, what is this?" I ask again.

Instead of answering though, Drew just smiles.

"Battle me." he says. I frown.

"Drew, you know I don't battle. I already told you-"

"Not that type of battle May." he says, reaching for his belt and unclasping one of his own Pokémon. "I want you to have Contest battle with me."

I half expected Nurse Joy to rush out and begin yelling at us.

After all, an explosion of Petal Dance and Blizzard weren't exactly the most…quiet of explosions.

I cough and wave my hand in the air hoping to clear the cloud of dirt dust from my face.

"Glaceon?" I call out. From a distance I can hear Drew calling for his Roserade. As the dust begins to clear and I can finally make out the battlefield I can feel my heart pounding in my ears with adrenaline.

"Glaceon!" I call out again. In the center of the battlefield, with stars swirling in their eyes,

Lay Glaceon and Roserade.

"I haven't had a tie like that in a long time."

I can only nod as I continue to peer down at my can of razz berry juice. The sour sweetness though doesn't seem to be resonating with me.

Rather my mind is still on the battle that Drew and I just had.

The way he called out moves wasn't like any normal battle I had had before. We weren't just trying to knock out each other's Pokémon as quickly as possible. We weren't using move or type advantage. We weren't using underhanded tactics and one hit KO's.

We were somehow…. creating art.

We were creating images that lasted only a second yet would fill us with a rush of emotions. I felt excited one moment, nervous the next, stressed in one instance, and then calm.

Was this what it felt like to be a Coordinator?

I close my eyes and feel the familiar thought tumble from my lips.

"It would've been nice if I had become a Coordinator."

I ask my boss if I can go back to taking pictures of Contests and she becomes ecstatic.

"You'll do it? You'll really go back?"

I nod my head and she breaks out into a grin.

"Thank you! This is great! Having the best photographer back on the job is like a dream come true!"

It's funny how she thinks she's the one benefitting from all this. But then again, she was only in it for the photos. The photos she can publish in the magazine. The photos she can sell to the masses.

This time, I'm in it for Drew.

It's easy to meet up now that I have his number.

Every night I would tell him where my next shoot would be and the next day I would see him in that Contest.

Sometimes he would win and sometimes he would lose, but this time the fakeness I had seen in him had somehow…. minimized.

It was still there. I could see it when he rose to accept his ribbon or battled another Coordinator, but whenever he appealed I didn't see the invisible front he had been putting up.

Rather, I saw him.

I giggle as ice cream dribbles down Drew's shirt. He glares at me before playfully telling me I have ice cream on lips.

"You really shouldn't have picked chocolate," he says, rubbing the ice cream off my face. "You look like a little kid."

"Well what kind of genius orders vanilla while wearing a black t-shirt?" I retort back. Drew only laughs and kisses me playfully on the cheek.

I see him like this more often now. I see this Drew now more than I used to.

Sometimes I wonder what I had meant to him those first nights together. Then again, I couldn't exactly place what Drew had been for me those first nights together either.

I just know that now, more than ever, I am comfortable.

I stand next to the cheering fans and the flashing lights of other photographers during the Grand Festival.

I know I should be taking pictures, but my hands are frozen as I watch Drew compete.

If he could somehow become more amazing, this was the moment. Each Appeal was spellbinding, each command was perfect, and each move seemed to set the stage on fire.

I know I have to take pictures and I know the ones I have already taken must be blurry and out of focus,

But I would rather capture these images with my mind than my camera.

"Sorry about the loss."

Drew only shakes his head. "Can't win them all." he says.

Though he's not showing it, I can tell that he is disappointed. Hesitantly I place my hand in his.

"You did great." I say.

He doesn't say anything for a few minutes, just let's his hand rest in mine. I watch as three times he opens his mouth as if to speak before closing it again.

When he finally does speak, it's in a soft voice that he only uses when he's alone with me.

"It's because you were there May."

He leaves in the morning.

I knew it was too much to hope for him to stay, but he's a Coordinator and I'm a photographer.

Our paths were bound to only cross when the job required it to.

I watch him board the ferry headed for Kalos. He stops halfway through and turns back at me.

I know that, despite the paparazzi and photographers around me snapping pictures of him, he can see me.

"Under the bench!" is all he yells before walking onto the ferry.

The people around me start to whisper in confusion, but I understand.

I sneak off without anyone noticing me.

He left me Glaceon.

She's sleeping under the bench with a note tied around her neck.

When I reach down to pet her, she opens her eyes and begins to purr, her head nuzzling into my hand. She crawls out onto my arms and, almost proudly, displays the note to me.

My eyes widen. It's as if I can almost hear Drew saying the words as I read out the message.

You can still be one.

Dreams are a funny sort of thing.

You dream but more often than not you give up on your dreams.

Yet even if you do, you still secretly dream.

My dream? To catch up to Drew.

To beat him.

To stand by his side not as a photographer, but as a Coordinator.

As myself.

We're older the next time we meet.

He's still a well-respected Coordinator. He's still winning Contest left and right. He's still pursing his seemingly never-ending dream.

And as for me, I'm pursing my dream too.

A dream I never knew I had.

The path hadn't been easy and at times I wanted to quit,

But I would always remember why I was there in the first place.

Still, for old times sake, I raise my camera to my eyes and look at him through the digital screen.

"Hey." I say. I watch as Drew turns around. I smile as I watch shocked expression come across his face.

"Can I take a picture?"

I feel like now every time I write Contestshipping it just turns into angst. Like, bittersweet angst. Must be because I'm growing up!

Thanks for reading, here's an omake:

Omake

When They Met Again

"Drew? You can let got now."

"….."

"Uh….Drew?"

"…."

"Hello? Earth to Drew!"

"…."

"You're…uh…kind of suffocating me."

"May…..It's….It's….been so long."

"I know Drew, I know."

"I missed you so much…"

"I missed you too….."

"I should've called…."

"….Why didn't you? You had my number and everything."

"….."

"Uh….Drew…?"

"…..I lost my phone….."

"What? Seriously?!"

"…."

"Hah! And you call me clumsy!"

"…. Meanie…. You're lucky I missed you so much May."

"Hee hee…I missed you too Drew. I really did."