Whortleberry City
It was a good thing for Miles that Route 25’s paved trails were so smooth. Since his daily ride to the park could’ve easily ruined his new plaid button-up jacket. Due to the large bowl of breakfast ramen - that while once delicious - wasn’t settling very well in his stomach. Yet the young man’s vibrant smile would never seem to falter. Looking up with awe to witness an older trainer soaring across the partly-cloudy skies on a Pidgeot. As he would feel a mild spring breeze blowing against his face and styled hair. Calmly breathing in a strong flowery aroma—which signaled that he was close to arriving at his destination. Thus, he had an extra reason to stop at the side of the road, and take a swig of his peach iced-tea. Pausing to soak in that the overcrowded city noise had long faded again, and was now replaced with a peaceful stillness...
At least until the silence got interrupted by the vibrating and buzzing sounds, coming from within his wrinkled pants pocket. Causing Miles to put the orange sports jug back into his bike’s detachable bottle holder—and then pull out the smartphone just to confirm that it was an accidental button press. Briefly squinting his grayish-blue eyes at the screen, and adjusting its brightness to account for the morning sun. Quick to notice that his texts were read recently, as he checked his two sent messages.
* * *
But within minutes of getting there, Miles had another temptation in his sights. Riding his bike over a sturdy redwood bridge, arching above a flowing stream of crystal-clear water. As he had begun looking for an unoccupied bench—with shade. Utterly surrounded by lush greenery, bright-pink trees and fields of oh so many colorful flowers. Even able to go elsewhere in the area, if he wanted to see the wishing fountains, or its shrubbery that resembled pokemon. Though that’s when Miles overheard the boys mocking laughter, and a girl’s shouted response.
“Why won’t you battle me?!” She hollered out. Turning his attention was toward their conflict—as he stopped to set down the bike and approach them. Receiving a pair of weary stares from the teenage boys who noticed him first. One dressed in all black - including the pokeballs clipped to his waist - with dark circles underneath his eyes. And the other young trainer that was wearing some loose dirty clothes and fake jewelry.
“We said no already. So buzz off toots.” The latter boy retorted, resting his elbow on the other’s shoulder, as they stood together. Clearly frustrating her further—for she hadn’t even noticed Miles walking up from behind.
“I’m not a toots!" The girl exclaimed with a stomp. "I’m only a few years younger than you are!” She countered, pointing her finger at the louder boy.
“Excuse me. But what’s going on here?” Miles asked from a short distance away. Briefly surprising the girl, as she turned around to face him.
“Look. I didn’t do anything.” The gloomy kid prefaced in a blunt tone and dismissive posture.
“But his friend called me a bad trainer! And then they both laughed at me, when I told them to battle me two on one!” She asserted, pointing to the other one. Prompting Miles to nod his head in understanding—with hands stuffed down inside his pockets.
"Alright. Then how about this..." Miles negotiated with a determined smile. Soon pulling out a pokeball and his fat leather wallet. “A single pokemon double battle - us versus you two - where the winners get what’s in here.” He stated, with his hand casually waving the wallet out in front of them. Immediately catching the two boys' interest, and causing the girl to smile. Months in. And I'll still never get over how normal gambling is for pokemon trainers. He reflected, before expanding the pokeball in his grasp. I just hope you're ready for this pal. Miles thought, before unleashing his ultimate tour de force...