Prologue
A silver clock ticked on the black wall of Jubilife TV's new recording studio as a young girl sat reading the lyrics of a song. She frowned at the white piece of paper in her hands. A look of sadness soon began to well up in the girl's violet eyes.
"Soleil, it’s almost time to start recording," said a man, after he knocked on the studio door. "Have you finished memorizing the lyrics?"
Without responding, the young girl stood on her feet. A black shadow traveled underneath her silver ankle boots as she walked toward the recording booth. Elegantly dancing across the floor with every step, Soleil took the outward appearance of a model walking a runway. The girl resembled this posture as she made her way toward the recording booth door wearing a black ruffle skirt accessorized with a pink belt, a black tank top decorated with silver Turtwig image, and a silver sequined mini jacket with pink stripes. Once she reached the door, Soleil took a deep breath and felt her legs start to shake. She bent over to fix her black leggings to help herself get a grip.
"Alright," thought Soleil, before placing her right hand on the door knob. "You just have to fake for an hour. Then, you can play with Walnut to your heart’s content."
Seeming to respond to her thoughts, the Poké Ball on her belt jiggled. Upon opening the door, Soleil let her light pink lips raise in a faint smile. Unbeknownst to her, the shadow traveled to the ceiling and inside the booth with her. The man behind Soleil argued on a cellphone. He seemed to be arguing with someone about a concert hall. That was the last thing Soleil wanted to her about today.
"My Albino Princess!" yelled the man, after hanging up the phone. "Are you ready to perform in front of thousands? I booked you a new spot at the newly constructed--"
"Solar Stratosphere," moaned Soleil. "The place where the sun shines in the stratosphere of our dreams. Marx, is this all necessary?"
"Of course!" hailed the man. "With this song and your next performance, you will be the new star of Sinnoh who finally surpasses the Perle of the Music Sea. I hate the pun in that title. Her name is just perfect for ocean based names!"
"Yes, just like Soleil is great for sun based names, right?" asked the young girl, with an eyebrow raised in mockery.
"Stop looking at me like that," said Marx. "Get in that studio, if you want a chance to train with Turtwig later."
"His name is Walnut," said Soleil.
In a somewhat lighter mood than before, the young girl walked into the recording studio to practice her song. She pulled her brown hair into a ponytail and let the next hour of life roll past her. When she finished, Soleil grabbed her lavender colored backpack. Now with a kick in her step, the young girl rushed into the elevator leading to the streets of Jubilife City, the most modernized city in all of Sinnoh.
"I wonder what will come of her performance," thought Marx, as he watched from the studio window. "She has tried for the past five years to surpass Perle. I hope my idea of her being an opener to tomorrow's concert becomes of memorable birthday present for you. You can only turn sixteen once."
"Sir," said his assistant, who's voice echoed from beyond the studio door. "The phone is for you. Line 1!"
"Of course, it is," replied the manager, letting out a sigh.
A silver clock ticked on the black wall of Jubilife TV's new recording studio as a young girl sat reading the lyrics of a song. She frowned at the white piece of paper in her hands. A look of sadness soon began to well up in the girl's violet eyes.
"Soleil, it’s almost time to start recording," said a man, after he knocked on the studio door. "Have you finished memorizing the lyrics?"
Without responding, the young girl stood on her feet. A black shadow traveled underneath her silver ankle boots as she walked toward the recording booth. Elegantly dancing across the floor with every step, Soleil took the outward appearance of a model walking a runway. The girl resembled this posture as she made her way toward the recording booth door wearing a black ruffle skirt accessorized with a pink belt, a black tank top decorated with silver Turtwig image, and a silver sequined mini jacket with pink stripes. Once she reached the door, Soleil took a deep breath and felt her legs start to shake. She bent over to fix her black leggings to help herself get a grip.
"Alright," thought Soleil, before placing her right hand on the door knob. "You just have to fake for an hour. Then, you can play with Walnut to your heart’s content."
Seeming to respond to her thoughts, the Poké Ball on her belt jiggled. Upon opening the door, Soleil let her light pink lips raise in a faint smile. Unbeknownst to her, the shadow traveled to the ceiling and inside the booth with her. The man behind Soleil argued on a cellphone. He seemed to be arguing with someone about a concert hall. That was the last thing Soleil wanted to her about today.
"My Albino Princess!" yelled the man, after hanging up the phone. "Are you ready to perform in front of thousands? I booked you a new spot at the newly constructed--"
"Solar Stratosphere," moaned Soleil. "The place where the sun shines in the stratosphere of our dreams. Marx, is this all necessary?"
"Of course!" hailed the man. "With this song and your next performance, you will be the new star of Sinnoh who finally surpasses the Perle of the Music Sea. I hate the pun in that title. Her name is just perfect for ocean based names!"
"Yes, just like Soleil is great for sun based names, right?" asked the young girl, with an eyebrow raised in mockery.
"Stop looking at me like that," said Marx. "Get in that studio, if you want a chance to train with Turtwig later."
"His name is Walnut," said Soleil.
In a somewhat lighter mood than before, the young girl walked into the recording studio to practice her song. She pulled her brown hair into a ponytail and let the next hour of life roll past her. When she finished, Soleil grabbed her lavender colored backpack. Now with a kick in her step, the young girl rushed into the elevator leading to the streets of Jubilife City, the most modernized city in all of Sinnoh.
"I wonder what will come of her performance," thought Marx, as he watched from the studio window. "She has tried for the past five years to surpass Perle. I hope my idea of her being an opener to tomorrow's concert becomes of memorable birthday present for you. You can only turn sixteen once."
"Sir," said his assistant, who's voice echoed from beyond the studio door. "The phone is for you. Line 1!"
"Of course, it is," replied the manager, letting out a sigh.