With a gentle grasp upon the Cleffa within her arms, Desiree found herself within the coastal city of Slateport with no reason other than to attend a high-profile charity mixer; she had hopes that she could catch the eyes of entertainment scouts with her presence, as her record label 'TRANCEWAVE' was running into issues with publishing rights within Hoenn due to their little prominence within Kalos' overseas counterparts. After a headache and a half, she was advised to sign onto a second record label in hopes of finally allowing her to continue progressing in the release of her newest unreleased album. An album she had yet to even name, she had finished the last song the night before this event and was more than ready to begin promotion. All she needed was a name and signage, which would prove to be just as difficult as it was the first time she was signed to a label, Cosmic Records.

After wandering around the event for some time, unguarded by the Doublade that was sworn to be her protector with actions rather than words, Desiree would soon find herself surrounded by none other than Bernstein. Though she had never met him before, she had become aware of his prominence in Hoenn as soon as she mentioned to the TRANCEWAVE executives that she was planning on moving overseas to the coastal region. He was a big dog in the industry, at least, that is what she could remember from the conversation. It was something else that she completely forgot that TRANCEWAVE had inquired with him prior to her arrival for double signage with his company, as the conversation occurred over her hospital bed during her recovery from the incident. For a split second she was excited to see him approach, but once she was surrounded by him and the two other men that she assumed to be his affiliates and his hands would streak across her body, her anxiety would begin to spike.

"Y- you may call me that, sir," she would become red in the cheeks as she would continue to listen to his words, her eyes glancing down to meet his fingers streaking over her scar-covering tattoos, "..you know about that?"

The feeling of an incoming cold sweat would ensue, goosebumps manifesting under the sausage fingers that moved across her pale skin before slowly retracting. It felt as if time was moving in slow motion; her Cleffa within her arms would peer upwards with her giant optics, sensing that her trainer was becoming distressed. How much did he know about what happened back home in Kalos? She thought her team cleared all of the articles detailing the push she gave her scum of a father. What if he had ties with Kalosian detectives, or worse, her own label she was an overseas ambassador of?

Once his next words came out of his grim mouth, it felt like a cold knife in her stomach. He was attempting to lowball her- it would not be the first time a record label had done this, so it was not as if she was blissfully unaware. Those rates were entirely dogshit, even worse than Cosmic Records' when she first signed onto them after Kalos' Got Talent. But it only got worse- once she opened her mouth to attempt to negotiate on the rates, he would hush her with a continuation of his words. The feeling of the cold knife began to twist as she noticed his bodyguard get ready for any potential consequences of his bold words.

Looking up at him as he continued, it was clear to her what his motives were, which made it much harder to hide the expression of disgust she was keeping on the inside as soon as he felt her covered scars. She was at a loss for words- he was the gatekeeper to what she wanted to achieve here in Hoenn but was proving to be on some real clown shit. Had she been in Hoenn, she would have indeed raised her hand to his face, but unfortunately she was in uncharted territory.

And she had never been with a man.



"I.. don't know about this, Mr. Bernstein," Desiree would nervously look down toward her Cleffa, making eye contact for a brief moment before meeting his optics once again, her face remaining still yet red, "..your presence is off-putting, to put it lightly."

---

tags: Callan Young
notes: I HATE THIS MAN LMAOOO!!!!

Bernstein chuckles and grins, his teeth are yellow as he looks to his cronies who follow suit with awkward laughters.

"She's feisty." He comments greasily. His words are like worms, implicating his enjoyment at her discomfort. There was an expression in his eyes, as if he relished dangling Tandemaus over a boiling cauldron.

As he attempts to squeeze in the discomfort like a vise, a young man with tousled silver hair and keen red eyes claps the overfed Guzzlord jovially on the back.

"Bernstein! Blowing into town without warning the natives?"

Bernstein's eyes narrowed, but his frown shifted swiftly into an oily politician's smile. "Callan, my boy! Just discussing a business opportunity with the lovely lady here."

"I can see that." Callan replies mildly, ignoring the implication. His attention shifts to Desiree, expression softening, then returning back towards her unfortunate counterpart. "You seem to be in the habit of getting friendly with my plus ones."

A visible scowl reaches Bernstein's face, his ruddy nose seemed to turn into a deep tamato red, alongside his cheeks. "Ah, didn't know she was already signed."

He leaves his card and slides it across the table to her. "Ms. Bloom." He grunts, before turning heel and stalking off, lackeys following.

Callan rests his hand over the drink table, his back facing Bernstein as he sips a glass of whiskey. His eyes dart backward to check if they were out of earshot, before turning towards his new acquaintance.

"I see you've met our resident deviant." He said, chuckling as he met Desiree's eyes. Extending a hand, he introduced himself: "Callan Young. Big fan of your music, by the way."

The rose gardens that had been manifesting upon Desiree's cheeks bloomed to be even more saturated as the yellow-teethed man and his men laughed at her, though all she could do was look down at the Cleffa within her arms, trying to retain the tiniest bit of comfort by looking into her eyes. Bernstein seemed to have the same twisted enjoyment of getting off to the discomfort of others as her father once did, but unlike her father, she did not have a somewhat valid reason to push him off of a balcony. Her mind ticked away as to just how she would respond to this offer without giving him a refill of fuel, but she was at a loss.

A foreign yet somehow familiar voice would break through the birdcage that was Bernstein and his men, still encompassing the pinkette from all angles, but all Desiree could do was stare at the crystalline structures embedded in the tile under her heels. They would appear to be talking to the wretched man, but his response would cause her cerulean optics to dart upward from the ground in between the cracks of the black suits circling her body. She heard the name Callan, which rang a bell- not one she was sure she was able to trust, as this charity mixer seemed to be packed with filth-eccentric individuals due to Bernstein's impression, but it was indeed familiar. It wasn't hard for her to place that she had read about his album release in the most recent issue of Hoenn News Network merely a few days ago, and she had taken a listen of her own. But the industry was full of cheats, liars, and men just like the one that stood right in front of her.

Silently peering outward toward the white-haired musician in confusion as they spoke, her blue eyes meeting with his red for a brief moment, Cleffa would tilt her head to the side curiously. Callan deemed her to be his plus one, but she had never spoken to him before. Was this TRANCEWAVE's doing, or was he throwing her a bone here? Whatever he was doing, it seemed to be working out in Desiree's favor; Bernstein deduced from those comments that she had already been signed onto a Hoenn-based record label, got redder in the face than the pinkette did, and walked away after sliding his card toward her. Hopefully, she wasn't about to hop from the pot to the frying pan.

Setting Starlight the Cleffa down on the table in front of her, she would run her hands through the pink waves of hair that spanned down to the ground before picking up the card and slipping it into her strawberry, her eyes struggling to make eye contact once more with the man that saved her from it all. Desiree could not help but shake as her hand would reach for the margarita that rested on the table for her prior to Bernstein's arrival, but before it would meet her lips, she would sit it back down a bit away from her. Precautions and all, as she had no idea of telling if he had slipped something into her drink while she was surrounded.

Listening to Callan's voice wander into her ears in the form of a greeting, and a fleeting joke about the filth's deviancy, she could not help but briefly chuckle. The roses on her cheeks slowly began to retract as she rested an elbow on the table, her hand and shimmering acrylics holding up her cheek in his direction.

"If only I hadn't," she would let out a minuscule smile for a moment, Cleffa beginning to braid some loose strands of her hair that rested on the table, "..thank you for getting me out of that situation, that was really sweet of you. ♡"

Tucked within her sleeve was a disposable vape, of which she would sneak a tiny hit in before inquiring further about Callan's music. Ghosting the hit, no smoke would drift outwards from the table, and she would look around for a moment to make sure no event staff was watching. Desiree was not sure if this was a no-smoking zone or not, but after that encounter, she could not care less.

Meeting her free hand with his and shaking it delicately, as she was still somewhat shaken by the gang-up of Bernstein and his men, she would briefly scan Callan with her eyes up and down before meeting his optics head-on. He was quite sweet upon first impressions and beyond, but she was waiting cautiously for him to drop a bomb just like Bernstein did.

"Thank you, that's super kind, Callan, ♡", she would smile towards him, a Kalosian accent prominent in her words, "..congratulations on the release of your new album, by the way. I listened to it a couple of nights ago while I was unpacking some of my stuff from back home. It's great to meet the man behind the music, you really know how to work that guitar of yours~! ♡ I have an album I just wrapped up that I'm trying to release, but it's proving to be harder than I imagined for some reason."

---

tags: Callan Young
notes: ding dong the bitch is gone

The sweet smell of Nicotine is immediately apparent as Desiree takes out a small vaporizer within her body. No, perhaps there was no smell, but merely the sight of a nicotine adjacent item is enough to instill an all too familiar burn in his lungs.

But he couldn't, not after the events of Motostoke. He shakes off the thought, as much as he could as she replied with judicious measure. Though her words were kind, she was likely not out of the woods, what was one stranger to the other? After all.

"Thanks, it's nice to finally meet you Desiree. Maybe we could do a collaboration song, sometime?"

He replies, his eyes scan between the lines of what was said, "And Bernstein is the one that's stopping you from doing it, unless you do him a 'favor'."

Callan replies, getitng the context almost immediately. "He tried to do that to another friend of mine. You would think with how brazen he does it, someone would eventually come up to face him but..." A mirthless smile graces his face. "Well, no one does."

He sips his whiskey as he slowly pulls back. "But I see... it looks like there's some stress from being pressured into signing a record deal from your side." Callan attempts surmising, "Is there a deadline?"

Having been brought a replacement drink by her Cleffa, which would have hopped behind the bar and used her tiny arms to pull it to the other end of the table, Desiree quickly yet gracefully raised its violet-hued straw to her lips and drank. It tasted like a mixture of honey and some kind of fruit, though she couldn't quite place what berry was providing such a profile. Nodding in approval as Callan would bring up the idea of collaboration as she downed the cocktail, her hand would wander toward her bag to slip her nicotine device back within its pockets.

"A collaboration song would be wonderful, it would be an honor," she would smile, giving Cleffa a tiny tap on the forehead as she would hop back onto her lap, "..your guitar with my electronics would make Hoenn go wild, I'm sure of it~! ♡"

But her excitement for potential collaboration would become rather occupied with upset, or even more so anger, as Callan's words would drift into her diamond-adorned ears. Bernstein was the cause of all these overseas troubles? How on earth did he have such influence in the music scene over here? It was clear that his claim to fame wasn't performance-based, because, well- she got a good look at him and could tell that right off the bat. He was clearly a scumbag at best, but what was he?

"That's so fucked up. Makes me wish I didn't hold back in slapping him, after all," the rosebushes upon Desiree's cheeks would blossom a bit once more, her cerulean eyes visibly showing signs of upset, ".. well damn, it seems I'm hitting a dead end."

She felt nothing short of defeat, and maybe the tiniest bit of regret. It would have been soul-rotting to take Bernstein up on his offer, but would it have been worth it? After all, if he had the power to block new music releases from overseas recording labels, what was to say he didn't have the power to block rival Hoenn based companies too? Was he the only option? A small bead of a shimmering tear would mix with the dazzling makeup she had applied on her cheeks, mixing with it- but she would quickly blot it away with her sleeve, hoping Callan wouldn't notice. It was as if the rotten man was the one thing holding her back from giving her fans what they have wanted for so long- and all she could do was blame herself for taking too much time on her newest album, even if there were valid reasons for doing so.

Taking a big gulp of her cocktail, and finishing it off, she would let out a big sigh of frustration. "I wouldn't say I'm being pressured by TRANCEWAVE, I'm just- being pressured by myself, if anything," she would look down at her Cleffa within her lap, which would appear to be waving its hands and smiling at her distressed trainer, ".. it's been about two years since I've released an album, outside of a few singles. I keep seeing comments on my posts begging for one, but I'm scared I may be fading into obscurity.."

Still red in the face with frustration, she would slowly swirl the remaining ice in her glass with her straw, pondering just what she could do. But she was at even more of a loss than she was before arriving at this mixer; she had gone from blissfully aware to anxiously omnipotent, or at least it felt like it, and with that came the feeling of anxious nausea.

"Is signing with Bernstein the only way I'll be able to get this release?" her worry-ridden optics would meet Callan's, trying their hardest not to release the waterfalls that remained deep inside them.

---

tags: Callan Young
notes: tl;dr

"Yeah, let's find a time and we can do a jam session. See how things mesh." Callan replies, thinking of her personal style of music. His own was a style of grunge, whereas for Desiree, it seemed that her discography was on a mix of acid dance. "It'd mesh quite well, I imagine, I'l have to find a way to incorporate guitar into the acid-house style of EDM that I've heard from your work, send me a playlist sometime." He grins.

He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the increased popularity, but at the end of the day he was mainly there to release his ideas to the world. He wished to be heard.

As Desiree speaks, Callan listens, his eyes observe and focus on her own. Unfortuantely, that focus would also let him notice the building drop in increasingly shining eyes. He turns briefly to the Cleffa, who had for the most part, been assisting her with her apparently impressive alcohol tolerance.

Only after she asks a question, does Callan nod and respond in turn. He takes a moment to consider her words, "No, not exactly," He replies, considering his position. "Universal Entertainment runs a few record labels outside of his reach. But they're still under the influence of Phineas Bernstein, all it takes is a call from the chairman and you'd be out of a job if you made him angry." A rueful smile forms on Callan's face.

"I do have a proposition for you, it's a terrible one, though." Callan chuckles. "Would you be against hearing what I have to offer?"

A sigh of relief would manifest upon hearing Callan's response of a kinda-sorta no. Still, as he continued, the anxiety within her stomach would bubble within its mixture with the alcohol. It was confirmed within her mind that he was one of the bigger of the big dogs in the industry, almost as if he had ties with every possibility that she could potentially take- and the thought of being out of a job if she were to make him angry was wildly concerning. With everything that had conspired before the guitarist's generous save from his overbearing demeanor, she couldn't help but think that maybe he already was angry towards her declinal of his advances, and his 'attacks' would be far from over.

It seemed she had made her first enemy in Hoenn, in her cerulean eyes, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to satiate her petty edge. All Desiree wanted to do was get back at the wretched doings that he had done not only to her but to those newer artists that had been within his presence before her; the thought of releasing a metaphorical diss track was out of the question, as he seemed to have everything within his grasp and could ruin any artists' career with a few taps on his phone. But what did the chairman have in relation to Bernstein? She would quietly ponder this thought to herself as she would listen to Callan wrap up his thoughts, burying that thought for a later scour on the internet for more details.

Her eyes would peer toward him intently as he would mention a proposition, the baby Cleffa slowly crawling to sit upon the top of her head to listen in curiosity. Though, unlike Bernstein and his offer, he seemed to laugh rather than be attempting to lure.

"As long as it doesn't involve the assets that Bernstein was attempting to have dominion over, sure, I'll hear you out," she would smile, letting out a tiny chuckle as the blush upon her cheeks would somewhat fade, ".. I'm sure it can't be as terrible as his."

---

tags: Callan Young
notes: tl;dr

"Nothing of the sort." Callan replies gently, realizing he should have chosen his words more carefully, given what she had just experienced.

He takes a small Sitrus candy from his pocket and passes it to Desiree's Cleffa, before returning his focus to Desiree.

"I run an independent music label," Callan begins, "Teravolt Records. I want to build something beyond the control of this industry, where people like Bernstein manipulate media for their own gain. "

He pauses, making sure that Desiree was alright, or if she had any concerns, "I may not have Bernstein's resources, and by signing with me, you'll likely incur his displeasure."

"Still, I wanted to offer you first chance at joining before I seek other talent." Callan smiles warmly. "I guarantee fair treatment, and respect for you and your work. You retain full ownership of your masters; you're free to leave whenever needed, no hard feelings."

Callan smiles. "But again, this might upset some powerful people." His eyes dance in between Desiree's, wondering if underneath those rose heeks, it'd be something she was interested in. "Would you like to wage war with me?"

A smile manifesting upon the center of the white tattoos that spanned across her cheeks at Callan's response, she could not help but retain all of her focus on the words exiting his lips- he had ultimately piqued Desiree's interest, and nothing could break her attention. Not even his kind gesture of feeding her partner Cleffa, Starlight, of which the baby fairy would queal and begin to munch down on the berry that was almost as big as her body.

It would not be the first time that Desiree had been involved with an independent label, as TRANCEWAVE was loosely independent in comparison to most other music manufacturers in the country of Kalos. But what happened to cause the pinkette's dreaming heart to flutter more than its unaffiliated stance with major names like Bernstein was that she could tell just how passionate Callan was about this dream of his. Nothing short of admirable, even if he did not have the assets that the big dogs would have, she had to restrain herself from interrupting to lay a hard yes on the table, even if it made that hotdog of a man upset. Hell, she wanted to make him upset after the things he said and did to her. She could still feel the lingering feeling of his spider-like hands crawling across the scars under the tattoos of botanical gardens on her arms and wished to send the feeling right back up his spine. Perhaps this would be the only way, which would be yet another apparent benefit of trusting Callan with his offer.

"That's a beautiful dream, Callan, like a million shimmering butterflies in the night, ♡" Her voice would steady itself as she would speak, her heart beginning to beat faster. Though this seemed like the only choice she had, well, other than succumbing to Bernstein's wish, she could not have wished for anything other than what Callan was laying on the table in front of her, metaphorically. It felt like destiny, a similar feeling to when she had found TRANCEWAVE those years ago.

".. And fuck Bernstein, he can choke," A laugh would escape after Desiree's words had parted, reaching down into her purse to grab the card that Bernstein had given to her. When she touched it, it seemed like it was drenched in oil from his greasy hands. Holding it up and tearing it in half, the thick laminate would flutter in pieces onto the ground, to which Cleffa would quickly hop down from the table to gather them and scurry over to the quickest trashcan. How she would get up to throw it in? Who knows, but she would do just that. Though Bernstein was much bigger than her in every facet of her life, she couldn't help but not feel scared within the guitarist's presence. If she were to be made an enemy of that man, if she already had not, she would be pleased that he would be the one.

His brief terms and conditions of owning her masters and being able to leave whenever she needed took her back to a similar setting in Kalos, the day she had met the first of many TRANCEWAVE executives. They were almost exactly the same, if not identical, and with the successes she had met upon signing with them, she had no worries in the slightest upon taking him up on his offer. It would be dumb not to, in fact, as she was sure this would make her home away from home feel more comfortable than ever. The shimmering butterflies in the nightscape that was her stomach would only continue to manifest in excitement, her Cleffa rejoining her within her lap after climbing up her white dress; it was time to wage war on the sweaty sausage, and she could not be more impatient to exact her revenge with the power of electric daisies.

"Absolutely, Let's~!" A smile wider than the most prominent of dazzling rainbows would form across her face, spanning her hand towards Callan in an attempt to shake on the deal, ".. I haven't felt this way in years, thank you so much, Callan. I'll forever be grateful. ♡"

Reaching into her purse to retain a pink heart-adorned envelope hidden in a secret pocket within her sparkling pink acrylic nails, which would appear to be constructed with a similar type of laminate as Bernstein's business card, Desiree would place it in front of Callan's gaze with a smile. If he were to open it, it would release a heart-shaped card with a QR code on it directly under a white and pink swirled 'thank you' in all caps. It would be the only one of its kind.

"This will have everything you'll need to contact me once you scan it and will have a few other tidbits you may find interesting to look at," her cerulean optics would dazzle in excitement, standing from her chair and scooping up the Cleffa within her arms, "..thank you again, so so much. I'm going to go get some rest after this long day, but message me with a time and location and I'll be there to continue our discussion. You're the best."

Walking away from the white-haired man that frankly, had been her savior of the day, a couple of dazzling tears would fall from her eyes in relief and joy, her heart retaining its rapid-fire beat. If he were to scan the QR code, it would pop up with a private site that he would gain all access to. It would be short but simple, showcasing a full-body modeling image of Desiree adorned in a dress made of crimson flowers surrounded by a sea of fluctuating pink light. The site would play a loop of one of her unreleased songs, SUNSCREEN, of which she had made both the beats and the vocals for entirely alone, accompanied by her new Hoennian phone number.

Releasing her Tropius from its pokeball, she would hop on the pink saddle and blast off towards her treehouse home in Fortree, feeling nothing but love and excitement for the future within her heart. It was strange- with being in Callan's presence, she had no time to think of the wretched past that had cloaked her existence like a dark veil. Desiree hoped more than anything it would continue to be that way, even now, and the future seemed rather promising. Dopamine rushed through her veins as she would fly, soaking up the sunlight that shone above her as she thought about names for the new album that she had been able to reinforce hope to release quite soon in the name of Teravolt Records.

---

tags: Callan Young
notes: concluding mission and extremely excited for continuation elsewhere ♡¸.•' myself, and desiree, are both so grateful for this opportunity and are so thankful for you toppa!