Rock’n PokéRevolution

Edward felt a little out of place. The energy around him was intense, vibrant, chaotic. Children ran back and forth, trainers proudly showed off their Pokémon, and the music from the main stage mixed with the chatter from the food stalls, forming a cheerful cacophony that left him slightly dazed. Houndour, on the other hand, ran enthusiastically around him and Alyssa, barking happily, soaking in the commotion with a sparkle in his eyes.

It was Edward's first time seeing so many people gathered like this. The Wyndon Music Festival had barely started, and the place was already buzzing with life. His performance with Alyssa was only scheduled for two days from now; the tournament, in three. Until then, they had some free time. Time that, in Edward's view, should be enjoyed.

"We should walk around," he insisted for the third time.

"We should be rehearsing," Alyssa shot back, arms crossed, expression stern.

"If I spend one more hour locked in that room listening to the same chorus, I'm going to start flailing on the floor," he answered, dramatic.

After some resistance, Alyssa gave in, albeit reluctantly. They walked together to the large festival area on the outskirts of the city. A massive stage stood at the center, surrounded by a wide area where the crowd was already beginning to gather. To the right, a row of food stalls stretched all the way to a fairground, with a ferris wheel gleaming in the sunlight and a roller coaster making the bravest scream.

But Alyssa, as always, had her eyes fixed on the stage. Motionless, she watched the tech crew adjusting instruments and setting up equipment for the afternoon performances. She wore an open red plaid shirt over a black T-shirt with a skull print, ripped jeans at the knees, and worn-out combat boots. A pair of round sunglasses with red lenses partially hid the restless glint in her eyes.

"Edie boy," she said, without looking away, "we're gonna tear that stage apart."

Edward frowned.

"Aly… you've said that like thirty times in the past ten minutes. How about we get something to eat?"

She scoffed but didn't say no.

They strolled through stalls selling sweets, noodles, and spicy skewers. They tried a berry-flavored ice cream, bought a peach mochi that stuck to their fingers, and shared a plate of fries covered in curry sauce. It was pleasant. For a few minutes, Edward forgot the nerves brought on by the thought of performing in front of such a massive crowd in the coming days.

And then, they got lost.

While exploring a quieter path behind the stalls, they strayed too far. They followed a side street and ended up in a less crowded area, where the music sounded muffled. Behind an old building, far from the stage and the park, they stumbled upon something unexpected.

"Look at that," Alyssa murmured.

On the side of the building, a boy was painting a massive graffiti of a Gyarados roaring amid violent waves. The artwork was vivid, fierce. The creature looked almost alive, with metallic scales and menacing eyes. Beside the boy, a Smeargle was brushing the wall edges with its tail, reinforcing the sea serpent's contours.

The boy was chubby, red-haired, wearing a white shirt stained with dozens of colors, baggy worn jeans, and a pair of grimy sneakers. A paint respirator covered his face. Despite his scruffy appearance, his movements were precise and skilled like those of a seasoned artist.

He was so immersed in his work that he didn't even notice the two approaching.

"Damn," said Alyssa, walking up without hesitation. "That's sick! How are you doing this?"

The boy glanced sideways, suspicious. His voice came muffled through the mask.

"With paint. How does it look like I'm doing it?"

Alyssa raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

"Wow. Polite, aren't you?"

"I'm focused, okay?" the boy snapped, pulling the mask off. "This isn't some random doodle, it's serious work. And you're not even supposed to be here."

"We got lost," Edward replied, finally stepping closer. He wore a plain black T-shirt, dark jeans, and a gray hoodie tied around his waist. His hair was slightly messy, and he kept a tense expression, alert for any sign of trouble.

"This area's kinda off-limits," the boy said. "That's why it's empty. But no one respects that anyway…"

"What's your name?" Alyssa asked, ignoring his grumpy tone.

"Dante."

"I'm Alyssa. And this is Edie boy."

"Don't call me that," Edward muttered automatically.

"Wanna paint?" Dante asked suddenly. "It's looking good, but a little extra touch wouldn't hurt. Just… don't mess anything up."

"You better not ruin what we add," Alyssa replied, already grabbing a spray can and pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. "Come on, Edie. It'll be fun."

"I'm not sure if—" Edward hesitated, but seeing her smile and the genuine excitement in the air, he gave in.

For almost half an hour, the three of them worked together. Dante gave curt instructions, Alyssa answered with sarcasm, Edward tried to keep the peace. The Smeargle observed with an approving look.

By the end, the Gyarados was complete — a colossal monster surrounded by lightning and foam, with eyes that seemed to glow even under the sun. It was stunning.

"That looks incredible," Edward murmured, panting and stained with blue paint.

"Freakin' badass," Alyssa said, snapping a picture with her phone.

"Not my best work, but it'll do," said Dante, hands on his hips. "You and your girlfriend aren't that bad, huh, Smeargle?"

Smeargle jumped and swung his tail, splattering paint in the air in agreement with his trainer.

That's when they heard the whistles.

"Shit…" Dante hissed. "Cops."

A group of officers in dark uniforms came running in the distance, blowing their whistles furiously. Beside them, two Boltunds dashed forward with terrifying speed. Dante and his Smeargle bolted down the street, and despite his size, he ran surprisingly fast.

"SON OF A—!" Alyssa yelled, kicking an empty spray can. "We're gonna get arrested because of some kid!"

"Run!" Edward shouted, grabbing her by the arm.

They ran. But the Boltunds were faster. Much faster. Not as fast as Dante, but definitely faster than them.

The s

ound of footsteps and whistles drew closer. Edward could only think of one word:

"Shit."