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Ah, the sound of a woman with confidence. Callan didn't need to look up to see who had spoken, but he did so anyway and was rewarded with one of the finest women he'd ever seen.

"In the flesh." Callan admits. He takes her offered hand to his lips and presses them against her fingers. His eyes look directly into Yumi's clear blue eyes. "Mhm, Yumi the Empress." He sticks his tongue out the corner of his mouth. "Thanks for coming, I know it's a little weird to setup a date based on nothing but an otome route. I'm glad you didn't think it was a Nigerian Prince scam or something."

His eyes study Yumi's face, absorbing every little detail. A fine lace top and a sweater over form fitting jeans. Fun, classy, confident. He got those vibes from her.

"There's a bar and tapas location in Slateport Park, let's walk around, have a drink, dance for a bit."

He offers his arm to her as he heads into an open lane down towards the Kingambit Gardens, which were exhibiting various collections of bamboo related artistry created by the Pokemon this month.

Things were going great. Then a stray thought crosses his mind and his curiosity takes over. "You know, I think the otome game captured you very well. Something tells me you're top-leaning."

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As Yumi takes his arm, Callan takes on of her hands and wraps his fingers around hers. His digits were long, and coarse with scars, several of them bandaged, as his thumb traces the back of her palm.

Callan took Yumi to walk across the bamboo sculptures. Large, terrain sized constructions made from delicate cuts of bamboo wood created bridges, tunnels, forests and strange, abstract spirals rolled across the scene as they continued to walk to the bar. "I rarely reach out," Callan admitted. "Between my work, and my former band, most of my off time is usually just me staying at home tinkering with guitar sounds I run in my head or doing training with my Pokemon."

Callan's eyes turn towards her, "I only do it if I'm really interested in someone." He smiles. And of course, if the situation was appropriate to do so. He didn't want to broach the topic of Elinor Anderson immediately with Yumi on the first date, but she had a right to know if she asked.

"It's a first impression." Callan chuckles, as he looks into her sparkling eyes. Playfulness, coyness, fire. The rose tinted glasses of a spark flickered back in his eyes. "I think you're confident and you like getting into trouble," He pauses a beat, then his grin widens, "and I think you've gotten a lot of people into trouble."

Callan pauses the thought as Yumi asked about his otome experience. "Oh, I did." His eyes move from her lips back into the twinkle in her pupils. "I certainly became the emperor at the end." He winks, "But when I started off, I was a musician from a merchant family in your kingdom with long, wistful desires for the empress.

The otome route was about being granted an audience with your avatar, but it let me create the background of my own. So I had virtual me put his life's work into composing a song for your queen." Callan paused, "I really enjoyed that, the agency it gave me."

"And you?" Callan's eyes scan Yumi's, he was curious about if she had played his route as well. He knew quite a few did, and those who managed to complete them had a few happy answers. But still, he wanted to know her thoughts, if she did play through it. "Have you ever played my route? How was it?"

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Callan felt somewhat self-conscious when Yumi admitted to playing his route. He was used to public scrutiny. His face was plastered on walls, billboards, thrown on TV ads, late shows, video game cameos, newspapers and internet blogs. But RVL had a lot of personalized information in their video games, and he had no idea how much it had revealed his inner life to hundreds of thousands of people.

What did she know about him, how much did the game reveal? These thoughts creeped into his mind as they walked and Yumi spoke. Callan reminded himself to stay present before diving into a rabbit hole of endless theorycrafting.

"You're pretty much right in that regard." Callan smiled. "I think a lot of people who get into the industry are geeks who want to be popular. That was certainly my goal when I first got into it." The desire to be wanted, beloved to make up for Freudian issues? The more he basked into celebrity culture, them ore it became apparent to him. "Also, as you know, when you walk out the house and get recognized, it can be daunting sometimes."

Callan stopped, briefly, as Yumi talked about his route. His current impression of Yumi was that she was certainly confident and unafraid of sharing her opinion, but at the same time it was thoughtfully presented, at least to him. He got the impression that she wasn't exactly the same to everybody.

He raised a quizzical brow alongside a smirk as she told him he was going along with the route she had played. "Mhm, so you are top-leaning." He chuckled, though it carried a grimace as well. There was a part of him that was afraid of disappointing her. "I don't want to be an entertainer tonight. I just... I want to be myself and comfortable, and spend that time with you."

He squeezed her hand gently, feeling cortisol run into his head as he spoke, the discomfort of leaving things as they were. Unlike Yumi, confidence did not run through Callan like water. It came in static bursts of lightning, and in certain scenarios, completely dry. Learning to be okay with it, to not try to control a situation and put his own preferences forward first, that was hard. He presses a hand against the back of his own neck as he breaks eye contact for a moment, then turn towards the bar in question.

Yumi and Callan arrive at Sevilla, a high end tapas bar inside of Slateport Park. It was decorated like a high end glasshouse with deep yellow lightbulbs and buzzing conversation, but its prices were anything but cheap.

Callan paid the admission fee as a barback took them to their seats. Callan shifts himself comfortably into the rotunda style sofa. A small table was put in front of them as a flask of Sangria was served complimentary of the bar, alongside a wooden board of small canapes.

"By the way, what made you decide to come over to Hoenn?"

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Callan lounged on the plush sofa beside Yumi, as he listens to her reason for heading to Hoenn. "You know, Yumi, I'm a little envious of you," he admitted, sipping his drink. "Living life on your own terms, being able to do so comfortably."

Callan takes a canape as he raises a glass to her. "Cheers," He says, clinking the tumbler against her sangria. He stares into the juice mixed red wine. "I agree with you, though. Being yourself is the way to go," he said, settling back into the sofa. "But it can be tough when you've got legions of people watching your every move. Makes it hard to let your guard down and be vulnerable, you know?" A partial truth, he had always been keenly aware of his surroundings it definitely prepped him for the celebrity life.

He looked at her, his gaze intense. "Yeah, I can see you're not afraid of being honest." A sly grin spreading across his face as he leans closer. "So, what do you think? Did your parents have a hand in pushing you away from Johto, or am I just reading too much into things?"

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Callan’s eyes linger on Yumi before dropping down to his drink, running a hand against the back of his neck as his fingers run against the bar piercing.

“I think it’s a double edged sword. Fame that is.” Callan replies, his gaze returning to her clear blues. “The spotlight feels amazing. But the more you stand in it, the more you are molded by the expectations of others. The more you’re expected to live up to a certain style or be a certain way.” Callan sips his Sangria.

“Then there’s the need to be someone you’re not, you trade authenticity for money. You become an icon, held to a higher level of standard, you wrestle with record labels to make the songs you love instead of what sells. You’re brutalised for any mistake and revered for everything done right. People will love or hate you for no reason at all. It becomes hard to make genuine friends because you’re put on a pedestal all the time, or the people in your life want to share in your success. Your old friends leave, your enemies want to tear you down.”

Callan pauses, a ghost of a smile forms on his lips. “But I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. I get to live a life where I enjoy my trade. And there’s nothing better than being on stage and listening to ten thousand people sing the songs you’ve held in you when you were a teen.” If only the dream didn’t end. But that was life.

He ran a finger against the rim of his cup. Callans eyes watch as Yumi speaks, the sharp grin and the tempered flare of rebellion sparking in her eyes as she spoke of her life. Then equally, when he mentions her parents, the relaxed grin turns into a tight lip clench and a pointed brow.

Pawn, unapologetic, game, slowly Callan felt like he began to understand Yumi a little bit more, outside of the hard, devilish, confident superstar persona that threatened to outshine his stage presence. Callan pauses, knowing he tread on thin water. "It sounds like it must have hurt." He refills her glass. "To have the people who should unconditionally love you be the ones to break that trust and use you like an object."

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"I do have them." Callan replied, his voice somber as memories flickered through his mind. "But I think no matter what anyone does, the feeling of regret is universal."

Callan observed Yumi's behavior, the way she threw back her drink. He could see the defiance in her eyes, or was it rage, or sadness? Or everything in between? Callan hated his own as well, but his manifested in drunken brawls and a hard cut in contact, never to return.

"Oh, shit, how old?" Callan replied, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "But I can see why you'd wanna leave if your parents wanted an old man to be guts deep in you for the rest of your life."

He paused.

"This hair's naturally silver, I'm only thirty by the way."

His smile grows coy as his eyes linger on her.

But he could tell this wasn't a conversation that she appreciated digging into. And he wasn't gonna press if that was the case. "So, what kinda guys are you usually into?"

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