“In one hour, the pairings will begin and the tournament will begin! Stay tuned participants,” Ivy’s assistant said over the intercom.
The lobby was filled with trainers. Cold chills exited from the core of the lobby. Silence passes over like Pidgeys in the sky. A small group of trainers huddled around in a tight circle.
“Thanks for comings boys and girls and I enjoy that there are so many hopeful you faces here. You can go home now. This tournament is mine to win, I’m Psychic Max, the best trainer on this island.”
Whispers from the crowd carried over, “I’ve heard of Max, he already beat Senta. I’ve heard his Kadabra is a tough one.” “Wow he is that Max? Maybe we should drop out.” The two boys talking walked out of the lobby heads hanging low.
Max continued his rant, “Oh you silly trainers. This is for professionals only, your just wasting your time here. Save yourself the time and energy and leave, enjoy the beautiful island and enjoy watching me, battle from the stands.”
Others trainers had a similar conversation and began heading towards the exit. Franklin watched Max drive others towards quitting. Max had short blonde hair and purple glasses hanging from his black tee-shirt.
“What are you looking at, kid,” Max said. Max stood arms length firm with fire in his eyes. “What are you looking at?”
Franklin looked at all the trainers, like himself, wanting to quit. Franklin’s fist balled, “Looking at you Max. Watching you run your mouth before I get to take you out of this tournament.”
Saint's Muse 