Ten years later…

In the grand scheme of our universes, I suppose things didn't turn out that bad.

Hydron really did fulfill his goal of getting into politics. With the downfall of Zenoheld, Vestroia's government system was totally rewritten. According to what Hydron had told me, Vestroia was now governed by a President.

Hydron was working up ranks, juggling various jobs in the system until he had earned his most recent position: a seat in the Senate with politicians and hard-working citizens such as himself.

The people of Vestroia admired all sorts of things about him: his confidence, his youth, his experience, his boldness. He was becoming an idol of the youth and serving his home at the same time.

We haven't seen each other much, save for few occasions that occurred once a year (birthdays, and one year Christmas) and a few video calls. I've started to notice that his minty blond hair is getting slightly darker with every year. Hydron jokes that he's probably becoming younger.

Volt had gotten out of university with flying colours. He'd studied Medicine and was beginning to apply to a bunch of companies on Vestroia interested in hiring new blood. His hopes for his future were as tall as the sky-scrapers dominating the city skyline of his new home.

If you thought I hardly talked to Hydron, I talked to Volt even less. Despite being through so much with him, we had never been as close as we'd probably like to be. I know that Brontes still sticks by Volt's side. The Bakugan seems to ask me where Shadowheart is every time I call Volt.

Three years after we had parted ways, I had received a message from Baron Leltoy on the subject of Volt. Apparently, while Volt had been saving up for tuition to get through university (he had also declined the use of Hydron's money) he had stumbled across a babysitting job and grabbed at the opportunity.

'Maron absolutely loved Volt,' Baron had said. 'Nobody in the house recognized that we had once been sworn enemies. It was when I was coming home from a mission with the Resistance and I saw Volt playing with my siblings that my parents had realized who exactly they hired.'

I had asked Volt why he wanted so badly to jump into Medicine, and he had said: Because. Doctors make money and use medicine. Money is what I'll need to save the family I may just have in the future, and medicine is what will save the rest of the world.

Needless to say, Volt wasn't hesitant in grabbing oppurtunities thrown at him.

Shadow Prove and Mylene still haven't gotten together. Mylene had told me a few years ago that the two had decided to open up a business together as Investigators. They often worked with the Vestroia police force.

It's fun piecing together crimes and felonies with the dumb-dumb, Mylene had said. He's actually quite good at the job.

Their first major case was when Vestal intelligence had found Zenoheld's castle abandoned and Zenoheld dead. The Vexos had gone through quite the whirl with fame because of that. Nobody blamed them for the dead King. Nobody had really liked him to begin with.

Shadow had always been good at fighting. Despite his not-so-intelligent personality, he was deeply skilled in that area. The police valued him greatly. Mylene was smart where Shadow was stupid. She kept track of information and clues. The two were a great team.

The person I stayed closest to was Keith, and by extension, Gus.

Unlike the others, I had decided to stay on Earth. Keith enjoyed backpacking around both planets and towing around Gus with him, so they always seemed to stop by where I was currently situated.

Both had started to look healthier. Gus was growing out his hair again. Keith had cut it a bit short, so he didn't always look like a member of a boy-band when he spiked it up. The two had gotten used to wearing clothes that blended in more with everyone else around them.

Keith felt the need to establish that I was still young and in need of friends and family to protect me.

"Keith, I'm fine," I had insisted once. And really, I was fine. "I've been living in New York City for over ten years now. Do you really think I wouldn't be able to find a safe home and secure job on my own?"

Keith had crossed his arms. Gus (who had been on his phone, pretending not to listen to our conversation) snorted in denial. "Text me your address. The next time I swing by Earth, I'll visit your place."

I had pulled out my new iPhone just to make sure he got the point that I wasn't some homeless crack-head and made a big show of typing in my password and scrolling through my contacts list of about two people.

"Give me your number," I had instructed, handing him the phone. His smile was teasing.

That had been three months ago.

I hadn't been lying when I said all that stuff about the home and the job. I had found Beth when I had tried sneaking into the theatre she owned over eight years ago.

Beth was the manager of a small theatre in Brooklyn. She was ten years older than me, making her twenty-seven (and I seventeen) at the time. Their company had been rehearsing their latest production of Spring Awakening late into the night.

I've never been a theatre kid. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate theatre. It brought back good memories of my brother and his friends staying up and talking in dramatic, flashy nonsense.

I was no stranger to the theatre. I had been ambling about the streets when I had seen light from the building. I could feel the vibe of actors and actresses jumping into character and fretting about nothing more than their lines and the due date of their performance.

Something inside of me recalled how Cecil used to be a person like that. With incredible acting skills and the voice of an angel…

I found that the door was unlocked and snuck in, unaware that Spring Awakening dealt with some pretty heavy… scenes. Unbeknownst against me, I had walked into a scene they were rehearsing of Melchior and Wendla taking a literal roll in the hay.

You would have thought everything after that encounter would be embarrassing, but nobody seemed surprised that me, a seventeen year-old street-rat (at the time, of course) had barged into a play rehearsal at stupid o'clock in the nighttime.

This was typical of New York, apparently.

Beth was a pretty woman. She enjoyed bold makeup and occasionally dyed a few strands of hair different colours. She had a tattoo of an apple on her side. She enjoyed partying and theatre. If you had seen her on the streets, you'd probably think: God, she looks crazy. She definitely does not have her shit together.

Then Beth would say: Bitch, I do have my shit together. Who else could be an exec producer of Spring-effing-Awakening and manage a theatre at the same time?

Then she'd laugh.

I also slept with the guy who played Melchior, so jokes on you, assholes!

Truth of the matter, Beth had filthy-rich parents that she tended to free-load off of. The theatre was the only thing she had seemed to do on her own, but she did a mighty fine job at it. Her local theatre had attracted the attention of all sorts of people – including me.

I had been permitted to watch them rehearse for the rest of the night, and I spent that time wandering up the aisles of worn seats and climbing through the set.

"Think the theatre is neat, kid?" Beth had asked. We were the only two left in the theatre and she was going through the seats with a broom. She had some folk rock playing in the background.

"It's quite messy, actually. Your set pieces…" I pointed at the scaffolding of a small flight of stairs leading to one of those little balconies that usually protruded from stages like this. "Not as stable as they should be."

Beth furrowed a brow. "'Scuse me?" She put down her broom and lowered the volume of the speakers.

"It's not safe," I continued, a plan forming in my mind. "If more weight than expected is applied, BOOM!" I pantomimed an explosion. "This whole thing could possibly collapse. Melchior and Wendla will roll out of the hay and onto the ground… to the hospital."

I led Beth by the arm to the base of the stairs. I placed her hand on the steps and shook them. "Whoa," Beth says. "Shit. I have to get this fixed…"

"I'll fix it for you," I said smoothly. I looked at her then at the steps inquiringly. "Give me some tools and I can get this badboy all fixed up."

"What's your price?"

Smart. "A few meals? A place to sleep, maybe?"

Beth grinned. "If you're the handywoman I hope you are, then I'll hire you fully. I needed a roommate anyways."

By the end of the year, a lot of the stage had been modified.

By the end of the next year I had been ordered to make a bunch of new props for their next onslaught of shows.

I'd stay late at night helping the cast learn their lines and sweeping up with Beth. I held the door and handed out pamphlets on nights when we put on shows. I kept inventory. I helped manage the website. I put up posters.

Eventually, Beth had gotten around to paying me in actual cash for the oddball jobs I did for her that nobody else did. I saved up the money for new clothes, a phone, and a cat.

Beth had become a constant in my life. We've been sharing an apartment for ten years now.

Today is December 23. Beth has the place decked out for Christmas. She's absolutely ectastic about the holiday. Lately, I've been using up my time holed up in the theatre or the apartment – I hated the cold and the snow.

"Meow." Shadowheart Jr., my little tabby cat, also hates the cold. She crawled into my lap and tried to sniff at the cookie I was nibbling on. I ran a hand through the fur around her hair gently.

Incoming text from Keith: Coming over in five. We're heading to a party at Dan Kuso's place.

I sit up on the couch in the living room. "Um… Beth?"

She's in her bedroom; she pokes her head out when I call her name. "Yo, what is it, Erin?"

"I have a… friend coming over in about… in a minute, actually."

Beth's eyes widen comically. "You know people?!"

I laughed awkwardly. "I ran into my friend… Keith Clay, a few months ago. We were in the Resistance – you know, the whole Bakugan thing – together, about ten years ago? He won't stay long. Shit, actually, he wants to drag me to a Christmas party."

Beth's eyes widen even more as she leans farther into the doorframe. "A boy? How old is he? Is he single?"

"He's thirty. He's not single. Don't ask if he's single in front of him. He has a boyfriend."

Beth started to laugh. "A gay best friend? What else do I not know about you?"

Ding-dong.

I jumped off of the couch, startling Shadowheart Jr. in the process. She mewls and darts into my bedroom. "It's him!"

Beth rolls her eyes and goes to say something when I open the door.

"Seriously, Erin- damn."

Keith is in the doorway, blond hair spiked sharply. He has on black jeans and a red button-up over a white t-shirt. There's a thick gray scarf wrapped around his neck. "Hey," he says plainly to me. He offers a slight wave to Beth, who's by the couch, still drinking in Keith's good-looks. "Get dressed."

"Keith… I'm not going to a party at Dan Kuso's place."

Keith started to smile. "Aw, come on. I wouldn't just stop to check out your apartment."

"And maybe, hopefully, her roommate," Beth mutters.

"Shut-up, Beth," I grumble. "I'm not going, Keith."

"When was the last time you talked to Dan?"

"I'm too lazy to recall."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Excuses. I know you haven't kept in touch with the rest of the Resistance. But everyone's going to be there. You need to mingle with a bunch of other heroes."

"Keith, seriously, thanks for the offer, but I mean-"

"Rumour has it Lync is there."

My heart starts to hammer. "Y-yeah right." No way is he going to be there. He never goes to those stupid Resistance get-together parties… Well, I don't either, but…

"Check your Instagram."

"I don't have Instagram," I grumbled. "I don't see the need to-"

Keith shoves his phone in my face and I'm met with a post Alice had made of her and Shun. At first I didn't see why that mattered, then I remembered who Lync was living with and I noticed the splash of pink hair in the background.

I bat the phone out of my face and groan into my hands.

"Erin, who's this Lync? What's wrong?" Beth asked. She was getting closer to the doorway with every question. "If it's really important, you can skip theatre-business."

"Are you coming?" Keith asks. Then, to himself, he mouths: Theatre business?

If Lync is there… I can't let this stupid party slip by.

I open the door wider and usher Keith in. "I just… need to get ready."

Keith smirks victoriously from his spot on the couch. "Dress appropriately; we're travelling to California."

With much coaxing from Beth (and teasing and complaining from Keith), I was outfitted with a sleeveless maroon dress that ended at my knees. A black belt was cinched at my waist. Beth also lent me a pair of high-heeled black boots.

"Now for your makeup," Beth declared. She had never dressed me up like this (but she always said she wanted to) and now she was having an absolute field-day.

"No. No way. No to the makeup."

I could hear Keith laugh from his spot on the couch.

"I'll do your hair up, then." Beth decided. My hair was eventually piled up into a beautiful bun. I smiled nervously as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. "Cinderella," Beth teased from behind me. I grinned despite myself.

Holy shit. (I can say that now. I'm a legal adult.)

Fuck shit up, man.

Ten minutes later, Keith and I were up and out the door. We took the elevator to the ground floor of the apartment, and then Keith pulled out a transporter card and transported us to California.

I was grateful for the temperature change.

I looked at Keith, who in turn pointed to a nice house in front of us. The lights were on. Cars were parked all over. This was Dan's house.

My stomach churned anxiously.

"Are… the other Vexos going to be there?" I asked.

Keith was already crossing the street to the house. "Surprisingly, yeah. Did you know that Alice and Shun got together? After all these years…"

I tuned out the rest of what he was saying as he rang the doorbell. It swung open and we were met by a drunk Runo, dressed in a white off-the-shoulder, tight cocktail dress. At first I had trouble recognizing her because her hair was down, but when I did I quickly shook off my surprise.

"Oh!" I stutter out. "Runo! What a surprise! Er, Merry Christmas!"

Keith (who was slightly behind me) rolled his eyes and went to shake Runo's hand. "Where's Gussy?" Runo asks, head tilted up to look at Keith.

"Coming," Keith says. His tone is self-conscious. "He thinks coming super late to these things without me is cool. So I decided I'd take it upon myself to bring little Erin with me."

Runo squeals, her voice more annoying then when she was sober. "Come in you guys!" We step in and when Keith walks off Runo grabs me by the wrist and whispers in my ear, "Lover boy is on the balcony on the second floor." She pointed at a set of stairs to our right. "Go get him, tiger. You need a drink?"

The offer was tempting, but if I had to do something serious then drinking was out of the question. I was a lightweight and very bubbly when alchohol was in my system. I had learned that the hardway, when the Spring Awakening cast came to Beth's and we all had drinks.

That was a story for another day.

I politely declined. Runo grinned sluggishly, patted me on the back, then went to what I assumed was the living room. I peered into the room and spotted a few people I had worked with before. I didn't say hello to any of them.

Loud music blared, although not many people were dancing. They were mostly spread out on couches, talking and drinking, relishing in stories of how we had been the heroes of the world as children. It was funny seeing all these people grown up and wearing nice clothes and drinking alchohol and partying without parental supervision.

I stayed on the sidelines for a few minutes. My body itched to go to the balcony, but I felt the need to wait a little bit longer. A sober Shun approached me, and we greeted each other formally. He gave me a knowing look when I asked about Lync.

"Oh, he's here, alright. Balcony, Erin."

"I know," I grumbled, watching as he went back into the crowd to find Alice.

I was hit with wave after wave of nostalgia. I hadn't been around a crowd of people like them for so long, it almost felt surreal. Maybe I wasn't actually there…

I managed to find the rest of the Vexos. They were all huddled together in the kitchen, adamant on staying together and ignoring their past-enemies. I greeted them awkwardly. Mylene and Volt gave me hugs. Hydron and Shadow each kissed my cheek.

I stayed with them, still making sure not to drink. Hydron had taken a couple of shots and was trying to tell us a story about how his hot secretary-assistant-guy had asked him out. His story sucked because his words were too slurred and he kept forgetting what the guy looked like.

"Blond hair. No! Black hair. Such a sharp jawline, and red… no, his eyes were also black. So black…" Hydron practically swooned, and that was when I realized nobody else was interested. Shadow took a long swig from a beer bottle, and Mylene began to cuss him out.

The party was slowly coming down from its high. I couldn't stop looking back at the staircase, wondering when would be a great time to approach.

Maybe… maybe I should go now. The music had taken on a much more soft sound. Conversation was slowly beginning to lull – that defeated the risk of being interrupted.

"Guys," I announced. They all looked at me. "I'm just going to…" I waved in the general direction of the stairwell. "Yeah."

Nothing seemed to register on their faces, so I went up without a fuss. With each step up those stupid steps, I tried to form structure for what I was going to say.

Maybe I could casually go up there, lean against the balcony and say: Coffee? Tomorrow? Or maybe now? I vote we get out of this shit-hole.

Or maybe I could stay by the doorway, cough to awkwardly get his attention, and just stand there. Maybe he'd pull a realization face and kiss me. I wished that would happen. It probably wouldn't, but if it did then at least I wouldn't have to worry about coming up with something intelligent and confident to say.

Great. I was running out of steps… Balcony… balcony…

The door to the balcony was to the left. It was wide open… and Lync was there.

His back was to me, illuminated in moonlight. I recognized his pink hair, which he had gelled down (it was actually also getting slightly darker. I'd later learn that he was dying it darker shades of pink every year).

He was wearing a pair of dark blue denim jeans and a leather jacket. His shoelaces were untied. If he was holding a switchblade, he'd have an uncanny resemblance to a Greaser.

For a few seconds, I couldn't make a sound. My heart had climed into my throat and refused to come down. He shifted from foot to foot, still not noticing me. He had filled out – he no longer had the form of a malnourished brat.

I willed my mouth to say something. Anything.

"Y-yo. Is the balcony, like, our… reoccurring theme from now on?"

My face burned. That was so stupid! I just reminded him of our past! What if I get him into some traumatized state again?!

Lync whirled around in surprise. "W-whoa." I didn't fail to notice the cigarette hanging from his thin lips, and I hissed.

"You smoke? Since when?!" I asked worriedly, stepping into the light to glare at the cigarette.

He pulls it from his lips. "Erin… I…" he shakes his head. His voice has taken on a slightly less whiny tone. "It's not a regular thing, I swear. It just… clears my head."

Now that I'm able to speak, I can't stop. "That's what getting laid is for, stupid." I blurt out.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit that's not how this is supposed to go we will not go into this kind of awkward dialogue-

"Then what's smoking for?" Lync asks, trying to bat down his alarmed (and amused) expression. He looks at me, then back at the cigarette being twirled between his fingers.

"Fuck, I don't know. Addicts and crazy people."

Wait.

"And you, apparently." I add. Just to make sure he knew I didn't mean to label him as an addict or… crazy person. I groaned internally. This scene was going along much nicer in my head…

Lync raises an eyebrow, and decides not to add any more fuel to the fire of awkward conversation material. He stuffs the cigarette into an ashtray (thank god). I'm surprised to see that we're the same height now.

I move to stand beside him, leaning against the balcony railing. We're inches apart. I notice that he still outlines his eyes with black eyeliner – the effect is as striking as always. His teasing grin isn't as toothy as I remember.

"It's… been a while, hasn't it?" He says suddenly.

I let out a low whistle. "Ten, painful years."

"Painful?" he echoes. His blue eyes twinkle (the eyeliner. The eyeliner.). He looks surprisingly mature with his hair not spiked out.

"Yeah, painful." I avoided the look he was giving me and looked up at the sky. "Painstakingly slow. Painfully boring. Painfully… lonely."

He doesn't say anything.

"So. How've you been?" I asked. Now our roles were switched. I turned my head to drink in everything he said. He refused to look at me as he talked.

"I… had depression for that first little while." His voice dropped at the word depression. "I've gotten a lot better though. I have a part-time job… at a flower-shop in Russia." He scoffed awkwardly. "The… colours and the smells help."

"Flower therapy," I commented. "I like it. Um… I have a job in the theatre."

He glanced at me. I guess he was remembering the whole thing about Cecil being a theatre kid. He smiled hesitantly.

"This… this party. I fucking hate it," I confessed. "It's making me realize that I wasn't as close with the Resistance as I thought I was."

"I didn't even get an invitation," Lync said. "Alice dragged me along. That's why I'm up here. Everyone down there knows that I left at a weird time and that I've been depending on Alice for a long time now…"

I swallow down any thoughts of jealousy.

"I didn't even see Dan. Which is weird, considering he's the host of the party."

"Yeah," Lync says. "Yeah…"

We fall into a peaceful silence. I notice his hands on the balcony railing. His fingers are laced together loosely as he speaks. After a beat, his eyes flick back to the ashtray. I silently wonder if he really needed that cigarette and I deprived him of it.

I watch him raise a well-manicured fingernail to his lip and chew on it for a few seconds. Then he takes in a deep breath. Exhales noisily. Another deep breath. He's certainly doing this on purpose.

"Do you need water? Are you choking?" I ask.

His face turns red and he looks at his feet. "No… just… it's nothing."

"If you're sure," I say. After a few minutes, he runs a hand through his hair and begins to bite his nails again. His shoulders rise and fall heavily as if he's taking deep breaths again, but they're not as loud as before.

I swallow.

He's… anxious. Really anxious.

"Hey, I'm sorry if you needed that cigarette. I know that those things really can clear your head. I just freaked when I saw you with it," I gushed. "I'll understand if you're really hooked, but I hope you're aware that they aren't good for you-"

"I really missed you," he blurted. "I couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again."

I pause. Where had that come from?

"Cigarettes were a rare coping method. When things got… bad. When I really started to miss you so much that it hurt."

He squeezes his hands closer together. My heart flutters. I look back at the ashtray, then back at Lync.

Wait… he was just smoking. He was in pain… just now?

"We're… we're long overdue," I agree slowly. "I get it, I really do get it…"

"I'm not even addicted," he continues. "It was just something to concentrate on when I felt out of focus. I'm sorry, I…"

"No, Lync, I understand. Coping methods." I laughed nervously. "I get it."

He smiles again, this time much wider. His teeth show. "Thank you."

I saw the moment as an opening, and I took it. "Would you like to go on a date? Maybe a coffee?" I couldn't stop the smirk curving my lips upward.

Lync steps closer to me, grinning foolishly. "Just a coffee?" He reaches into the pocket of his jeans. I watch, confused, as he pulls out a few crumpled leaves.

He unfurls the leaves, and I watch in surprise as he raises his arm and holds the foliage above our heads. "Do you know what mistletoe is?"

It all clicks in my head and I laugh. "Did you have this moment planned out or something?"

He nodded childishly. "Will you kiss me, or not, Erin Algant?"

I give him a quick kiss; I'm too happy to stop my lips from forming into a grin.

Lync pouts when I push away with a burning face. "Come on. I know you can do better. Why're you embarrassed? Have you really betrayed me? Am I nothing more than a side-friend now?"

I smirked when I detected the undertones of a challenge and put one arm around his shoulders, my fingers on the small of his back. My other hand presses into his chest tightly. I can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

"I swear it on my life, I'm not a traitor," I whisper, pulling his lips to mine once more.

Yup. Not bad at all.

FINALLY FINISHED. The end. Yay.

I love all of you that reviewed, followed, and favorited. You've made me so damn happy. Thanks a billion~!

I'll say it now: I am 99.9% sure that this will be my first and last Bakugan fanfiction. I've been obsessed with Bakugan since I was six, and now that I'm thirteen, I can say that I've moved on. I like to think that this fanfiction was my final parting gift for such an adorable series.

(Oh, great. Now I feel emotional. It's like saying goodbye to my childhood.)

:)

Wish the Vexos luck for me, ok?

BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!