Distant

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A/N: Okay, so this is a bit of an angsty, slightly one-sided Contestshipping story that takes place during the AG series. So I'd like to quickly apologize for what you're about to read. I dunno what compelled me to portray such an emo side of Drew, so if the OOC-ness upsets or angers you, then I'm sorry. :(

This is perhaps the closest to angst I've written. So leave a review at the end and lemme know what you thought about it, okay?

~*~

He chose to keep his distance, watching her from afar. Even though it slowly killed him from the inside. Sad Contestshipping, implied Advanceshipping.

~*~

He couldn't even remember how it all began. One day, he was a confident, determined kid who was well on his way to making his goals a reality. The next, he was this brash and arrogant jerk who liked to brag to the world about his amazing accomplishments. Someone who found pleasure in messing with other people's heads. Someone who enjoyed pissing other people off. Someone with an unhealthy obsession that kept him up at night for hours, even days and made him do things that he'd never imagine doing. He wasn't like this before. It scared him how much he had changed. How his world had completely turned upside-down, and he was now a totally different person.

From the outside, it wouldn't be too noticeable. He had always been a loner, from the very start. He didn't like being surrounded by other people, always preferring to enjoy his own company. He was comfortable being by himself, it was something that never bothered him. He didn't believe in the whole 'traveling in small groups' concept. He didn't even start off like most ten-year-olds did for their Pokémon journey. His "starter" had been a Roselia; a Pokémon that he was well aware couldn't be given away at some laboratory. He had set out to be a Coordinator, instead of going the normal route of being a trainer. He was always a bit different. His early days had been--for lack of a better word--disastrous. He had lost badly to another Coordinator, Solidad, someone older with much more experience. He didn't take his first contest defeat very well, but after the pain had passed, his loss only made him stronger, more determined to get better and bounce back.

He was always a quiet kid, keeping to himself most of the time. It wasn't that he was shy, it was simply because he was a lot calmer and laid-back than most people. He didn't like speaking his mind or blurting out the first thing that'd pop in his head. However, as the contest ribbons and fan letters began to pile up, he noticed the gradual change in his own ego. He knew he was becoming vain and arrogant, but he enjoyed it. A new and different persona that he'd never met before had begun to shine and he embraced his newfound confidence.

He found himself becoming smarter, wiser, and more observant, especially when it came to Contests and other Coordinators. He could read people based on how they'd perform or on their style. He could read their flaws, strengths, their special moves and their weaknesses. He would study his opponents and map out strategies in his mind to target their weak spots and defeat them in the final rounds, which would turn out to be rather successful. He began to make a name for himself in the Contest area. While he was overconfident and brash as any ten-year-old would be, he was wise beyond his years and quick to think.

Still, none of that prepared him for the day she entered his life.

He couldn't even remember his life before May. The naïve, inexperienced, clueless rookie from Petalburg City. He had spotted her on a beach, practicing for her first Contest, and it only took him a few moments to discover that she was a newbie, a complete amateur who had little style or originality. Why he had picked on her, he had no idea. But he chose her, and she immediately looked at him as a rival. At first, he couldn't understand what it was about her that had made him pick her out of all the other beginners. As time passed, he realized it was because he saw so much of himself in her. Every time she'd lose or fall, she'd get back up with tears in her eyes and dirt on her cheeks, try to figure out what she did wrong, dry her eyes and work hard to make herself better.

There was also something else. With every encounter, with every passing day, something inside of him would develop. It was an ache that'd stick itself in his gut, growing stronger with every day that he didn't see her. Every time he'd reunite with her, whether it'd be at a Pokémon Center or in the middle of the forest, he'd almost explode with euphoria. The mere sight of her got him so riled up inside, it'd mess him up. Obviously, he'd never show it from the outside; his new super-cool reputation would be at stake. But even when he was busy taunting her or when she was getting in his face and yelling at him, he'd feel such an inviting warmth from just being near her. He thrived off of her company, something he never usually felt around others. And then when they'd say their goodbyes, he was suddenly hollow and he felt more alone than he'd ever felt before. And with every day he didn't see her, he'd feel lonelier and he'd sink into this depression he didn't even know existed.

For days after their latest meeting, all he'd think about was her. Her caramel-brown hair and how it stuck out in those two weird bunches underneath her blood-red bandana, her sweet, innocent face, her enthusiastic, ready-for-anything smile, her sparkling ocean-colored eyes. He'd think about how she'd light up every time she'd do well after an appeal round or how she'd chew on the edge of her lower lip while watching the score boards, how easily provoked she'd be every time he insulted her, and even the little 'May's Expeditions' things she'd do at random times. Everything about her fascinated him. He became consumed by this subconscious need to be around her. Hell, even being in the same room as her gave him a sense of peace.

As time passed, he found himself wanting more and more of her company. He became obsessed with finding her, knowing where she'd be and where was going. It came to the point where he didn't even have to say hi to her, all he needed was a glance of her and he'd feel complete. All he had to do was watch her from the shadows. Whether she was practicing an appeal move with her Beautifly, checking in at the local Pokémon Center, or just hanging around with her little travel buddies. All he had to do was see that brilliant smile on her face, the alluring sapphires in her eyes dancing under the sunlight, and it was enough for him.

He wasn't entirely sure which came first: stalking her, or falling head-over-heels in love with her. But there was no doubt that this infatuation he had with her wasn't going away any time soon. Any ordinary girl who'd see Drew would instantly recognize him for his famous coordinating skills and swoon over his good looks and charms. But she wasn't any other girl--he didn't see him as a star coordinator or an excellent Pokémon trainer, she saw him as her extremely annoying rival who only found pleasure in teasing her and criticizing her own skills as a Coordinator to make himself feel superior to her. She didn't find him attractive or heroic at all, which made the chase for her all the more exciting.

He knew he'd take it too far sometimes. He wasn't deaf or stupid. When he passed her hotel room or backstage during a contest, he'd hear her sniffles through the door. He'd spot her rubbing her eyes with her arm from the corner of his eye when he walked into the room. She always tried to hide it by either acting tough or faking a smile. But he saw right through her acts. He saw the dry tear trails on her pale cheeks and the lack of sparkle in her eyes. He never showed it, but every time she'd cry, a little piece of him would shrivel up and die. He'd get so caught up in his guilt and it would eat away at his conscience, until he was mentally kicking himself for being such an asshole. He hated messing with her head. He hated toying with her emotions, it was something he just didn't do to people. One minute, he was putting her down, the next, he was throwing beautiful, red roses at her. But it was his way of showing how he felt about her. It was his way of being close to her. She didn't see him in the same way she saw Ash or Brock. To her, they were friends, people she could trust. When she looked at him, she saw a rival; the antagonist that she was to keep her distance from, someone whom she was competing against. By acting as the bully who enjoyed putting her down, he was able to get close enough to her while staying far enough so that there were no strings attached. You could say he did it simply for the attention. Her attention, to be more specific.

To her, the roses were nothing more but an indifferent sign of neutral respect for her Beautifly. To him, they were a symbol of far greater emotional attachment, but not even he was ready to admit that to himself. He was a mystery to her, someone who was far too complicated for her. He sent her so many confusing signs, that she found herself afraid to take their relationship past the current shallow level it was in. He was too vague, too closed up for her to trust him and he knew that. He really couldn't blame her. After all, he was the one who was doing all of this to himself.

It was perhaps the reason why he chose to stand in the shadows. When he watched her from the horizons, he couldn't hurt her or mess with her feelings. Being far away from her was something he both preferred and detested. He found it was better for both of their sakes, it made it easier for him to deal with his unstable emotions every time he laid eyes on her. However, not being near her made him suffer the type of withdrawal symptoms a drug addict would get without his fix. It tortured him knowing that he had no real impact on her life, that she'd constantly move about her daily routines with no concerns towards him since the only appearances he made in her life were during the occasional Contest. He wasn't nearly as important to her as her friends and family were, and it was that very fact that crippled his sensitive heart every time her radiant being stood before his eyes. But he chose to keep his distance, watching her from afar, even though it slowly killed him from the inside.

He became consumed by his emotions, and his doubts ultimately led to him becoming closed up and even a little depressed. However, it didn't seem to affect his life at all. He was still an amazing Coordinator, admired constantly by his adoring fans. He was still portrayed as the mysterious bad boy by the press whom no one could defeat. He still came off as confident and self-absorbed. There was a nonchalant swagger in his walk. His twinkling emerald eyes gleamed mischievously, matching the coy smirk forever painted on his lips. He'd still occasionally flick the tuft of silky viridian bangs out of his face, a habit the majority of his female fans were completely mesmerized by. He still came off as the cool-headed, laid-back native from LaRousse City, the one with no cares or no concerns. He was distant, uninterested and detached from the rest of the world.

It was perhaps for that very reason why May would chase after him.

She wanted to prove herself to him, she wanted him to see her progress and put her in the same light of respect that he saw in her Pokemon. She wanted his praise and to see him at least give her an approving nod for all her hard work. As time passed and the Festival drew nearer, he took notice of this. He was, no doubt, flattered by her actions, and it even gave him a flicker of hope. Perhaps, she did see him as more than just a rival. Perhaps she saw him as someone who was worthy of gaining their attention. Maybe, she did think of him when they were apart, though he doubted she thought of him half as much as he did. Sometimes, it would frustrate him. He couldn't understand why it had to be all about contests. Why couldn't she see that he was more than just silly competition? Why did she see, Drew the Rival; why didn't she see Drew Hayden, the lonely, infatuated boy who was pining, craving for her love and attention? Other times, it would give him a sense of hope that maybe one day, she'd see through the thick mist she had created around herself. Maybe one day, she'd cross the fine line between love and hate and his feelings would be returned to him. After all, who else gave their so-called "hated rival" the constant attention she gave him? Maybe her thick, clueless head would piece it all together and eventually figure out what--or better yet, who--the roses were really for.

It scared him how deep he had really fallen for this girl. He was only eleven for Christ's sake! Nobody in the real world fell in love at ten or eleven freakin' years old. Nobody found their soul mate before hitting puberty. Stuff like that only happened in movies and TV shows. But the way his mind would spin faster than a hurricane and his heart would pound uncontrollably for her spoke otherwise. He was more than well-aware that his feelings were far too great to stem from some silly crush. He was in love, and there was no escaping it.

Only Roselia knew the truth--or most of it. Just because she was a Pokemon, it didn't make her any less intelligent(in fact, the Thorn Pokemon was pretty certain she was smarter than her master, but felt it was best to leave that small part out). She was the closest friend he had since he traveled alone. He didn't speak much about his feelings, but when he did, Roselia was always there to listen. Most of his little "talks" though involved him talking out loud to himself--he never spoke directly TO her unless he mentioned her name--denying that he had any sort of feelings for May. You could say it went something like this:

"I've got to be the craziest guy in the entire world. I mean, I'm letting myself go psycho-nuts over a girl! And MAY of all people! I mean, she's naive, she's clumsy, she's loud, she has NO clue on what she's doing and frankly, she's a mediocre coordinator AT BEST! I mean, it's kind of cute in a way. The way she yells at the slightest thing I say, and the way she trips over a small rock in the middle of the road. Even the slightly-grotesque way she's obsessed with food. And it's not like she's ugly! She's actually...you know...pretty. GAH--There I go again! This girl is trying to poison my mind! Do you know who I am? I'm Drew Hayden, damnit! I'm the greatest Pokemon Coordinator of my generation, and I'm not crazy. I mean, it's not like it's gotten to the point where I talk to myself out loud and have extremely long conversations with myself. You know what I mean, Roselia?"

"Rose...?"

"I mean...okay, so she's not ALL bad. Who knows! Maybe someday she'll gain a sense of style and PERHAPS then, she'll grow to become at least a decent coordinator. Not as great as me though, right?"

"Rose, Roselia!"

"Whaddaya mean I'm a dumbass? -sigh- You know, for a quiet one, you're not a very good listener."

Yup. The girl had indeed poisoned his mind.

Still, no matter how much Drew tried to deny it out loud, both he and Roselia were aware of the fact that the truth was so blatantly obvious, it was practically slapping him in the face. It came to the point where even May's friends had their suspicions. The oldest one--he was pretty sure his name was Brock--was the big brother of the group. Like him, Drew could tell he was an observer, someone who could read people without needing too much contact or words. Whenever Brock thought Drew wasn't looking, he'd flash him these secret smirks and sly glances. Drew could always tell he was looking. He wasn't blind or naive like May. He also knew Brock had his suspicions about May. He even indirectly confronted him about it by saying things like, "Gee Drew, why don't you tell us how you really feel?"(Guess--or in other words, 'google'--the correct episode and I'll give you a cyber-cookie! =D) While Ash—the clueless one—simply stared blankly, the real message going right over his head, Drew's heart had almost stopped at the question. Had he really become that easy to read?

And then there was Max, May's overprotective, in-your-business, know-it-all, seven-year-old brother. He wasn't as open to Drew as Ash and Brock were. Even during the times he was nice to his sister, and even offered his help, Max would keep an eye on him, in case he tried to pull any stunts. It was frustrating to Drew that he couldn't seem to win over Max. After all, he was May's family, and if there was ever the chance he met her parents, he wouldn't have an advantage if the little brother didn't approve of him. Still, it was better him than Harley. While he was young, the boy often watched May's other rival like a hawk.

He wasn't going to lie--Drew was envious of May's friends. But how could he not be? They got to spend every waking second with the single greatest girl on the entire planet. They had the honor of being by her side, traveling the world with her, watching her practice with her Pokemon, sleeping in the same campsite as her, being with her for every second that she was smiling and laughing, with those radiant azure eyes sparkling with bubbly enthusiasm and being the beautiful, amazing girl that she was completely unaware that she was. It was a privilege that, to him, was completely unreachable, a right he could never be granted.

He was especially jealous of Ash--the leader and the stubborn, determined Pokemon trainer from Pallet Town. The boy with the bright brown eyes, the signature baseball hat that somewhat hid the tangled mess of jet-black locks that stuck out in all directions, and the yellow electric mouse that was always perched on his shoulder. May was very fond of the older boy, he could tell by the way she looked at him. The way she relied on him and always turned to him for help. He was her mentor, teaching her about raising Pokemon from his own experiences. Ash was also her savior; whenever she was in trouble or cried out for help, he was always the first one to hold out his hand. He never hesitated to watch out for her, be there for her whenever she needed him. They shared a bond he could never have with her. They connected like no other two people did.

It made him sick to his stomach. Every time he saw them sitting together or having a casual chat, a little piece of his heart would crack and shatter all over the floor. Whenever she looked at him and flashed him that brilliant smile, he'd feel a punch in his gut so excruciating, that not even the strongest of human fists could compare to what he'd experience. He could be ripped apart by a Ursaring or stung by a Tentacruel, and it wouldn't be nearly as painful. No amount of teardrops could ever subdue the agonizing pain he carried with him day by day. He could cry the seven oceans for her, and it wouldn't do him any good. The weight of his burden was tormenting; it was like wearing shackles with spikes digging into the sensitive flesh around his ankles. With every day that May grew closer to Ash and further away from him, the cuts would get deeper, piercing into the defenseless barriers of his broken, lonely soul. He was a prisoner of his own emotions; there was no chance of escape nor a chance of healing. He was certain that he'd never get over her.

Maybe it was his own paranoia or maybe it was his extreme doubts that made him think so negatively. What if May didn't even like Ash? What about the off-chance that maybe--just maybe--she had some sort of feelings for him too? What if May was just as clueless as Ash and didn't understand the concept of love yet? But even if she did, Drew didn't have the advantage Ash had.

He didn't spend every single day with her. He didn't get the chance to lie next to her and have deep conversations with her in the middle of the night, sitting under the stars, talking about anything and everything. He didn't get the chance to look into those eyes and see her ambitions, her fears, her hopes and her doubts. He didn't get the chance to crack open the overconfident, hardheaded exterior shell for her and show her the troubled, doubtful, vulnerable person that was on the inside. The person that would give forever and a day to be with her, to truly show her how he felt about her and do anything to prove just how far he was willing to go for her. The person that cowered underneath this fake, hollow shell of a person he was now because he was far too afraid of what she'd say if she knew the truth.

Instead, he was the person who distanced himself from her. The one who leaned against the wall in the shadows, watching her from afar as she stood center-stage. He was the one who chose to put her down rather than telling her how beautiful she was. He was the one who waved casually at her instead of holding her hand. He was the one who threw roses at her and hid behind a bullshit excuse that they were for her Beautifly. He was the one who walked away and didn't look back, when all he wanted to do was turn back around, grab her and shake her and scream until his lungs were sore and the shackles came off.

He was the one she could never fall in love with.

And no matter how much he wanted to change his ways, no matter how much he wanted to listen to his conscience and drop the cocky-bastard act, no matter how much he wanted to just drop it and let it all out, he knew fully well, he just couldn't do it. There was too much to risk, too much that he was too afraid he'd lose.

He wasn't willing to lose her completely. What they had right now was perhaps the most he'd ever get out of her. Drew and May--contest rivals. It was the only real connection he had with her. If he were to risk it all for some stupid love confession, then he knew for certain that connection would be gone, and it would never come back. So he chose to stay where he was, no matter how much it hurt him. He'd play his role, like the good little boy that he was. And if it meant being far away from her, if it meant not being in her life as much as he wished he could be, if it meant not being the one she'd eventually love...then so be it.

~*~

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. If I did.....I probably wouldn't have written this. ;___;