walk walk, fashion baby // wallace && serena
Though the sapphire seas of Hoenn would always possess the top place in his heart, there was something so undeniably irresistible about the quaint, romantic region of Kalos. Lumiose City was of course its prime centerpiece, decorated with café-lined cobblestone streets and the sparkling Prism Tower, a worldwide icon in itself. Strolling casually along the sidewalk, a content smile befitted the lips of the young man, whose azure hued gaze admired the intricacies of the city behind tinted, circular shades. Typically a rather ostentatious figure, the gym leader had abandoned his typical attire, which was more suited towards the tropical climate of his home, in exchange for something a bit more practical for the approaching Kalosian winter. Donning a pure white turtle-necked sweater, seafoam hued scarf, lavender slacks, and white shoes, his ensemble was a blatant rebellion against typically somber winter hues, and yet he continued to saunter down the streets with a head held high, convinced that no one would ever dare question his fashion decisions.
The trip to Kalos was both opportune and planned in nature, an appointed board of prolific coordinators choosing the dazzling city as an obvious venue for a conference on how to ameliorate contests, both mechanically and aesthetically. Though the majority of his time was spent assessing young trainers’ skills in battle, Wallace was invited nonetheless, as a large portion of his free time was spent pursuing a side career as a successful coordinator. However, the meetings for such had recently come to a close, allowing for a tantalizing abundance of free time. Continuing his meander down Lumiose’s streets, he briefly considered stopping at one of the plethora of cafes that lined the streets for a coffee and a quick call to his mentor, Juan, to see if the gym had received any unanticipated challengers. That was until his wandering eyes alighted upon a dazzling shop that could be considered nothing less than the paragon of modern fashion: an expansive and exclusive clothing store known only as Boutique Couture, a name that rolled elegantly off of the tongue and filled the dreams of any young person with even the slightest interest in fashion.
With childlike excitement in his heart, Wallace altered his daydream-guided steps to fit the path leading to the Camelot of trends, pausing briefly at a crosswalk as a taxi rumbled idly past. Once the gym leader had crossed and had arrived on the other side, he was nearly bubbling with anticipation, having not visited the renowned store in quite some time due to a demanding schedule. The smile that alighted his angular features faltered somewhat, however, as the glass door leading into the place appeared propped open, and in its space a woman with a haughty, insistent expression on her face as she spoke sternly to who appeared to be a young girl, perhaps a trainer by the bag she carried.
Approaching slowly then, he fixed his attention the older woman’s words, who was undoubtedly a store employee judging by her impeccable dress and neatly groomed hair.
“I’m sorry, but I’ll explain this one last time: you’re simply not stylish enough. We have a long standing reputation to uphold here at Boutique Couture, and we cannot have just any run of the mill trainer wandering our store!”
The woman’s haughty words instantaneously tore a hole in the young man’s heart, his eyes widening behind his glasses as his mouth fell agape in disbelief. Not stylish enough? Why, every young fashion enthusiast must start somewhere!
Marching forward, Wallace stood before the two, clearing his throat as though he could not bear to hear the woman continue any further with her verbal assault.
“I must say, I am appalled by your treatment of this young trainer!” He exclaimed, his hands gravitating indignantly towards his hips, holding no apparent reservations towards interrupting the exchange.
“If it were not for the interest of new fashion enthusiasts, the art of fashion would surely die! At the very least, I know my willingness to visit your store would fall considerably if you turned away this trainer.” Removing the sunglasses that masked his features, his voice calmed considerably to its normal, urbane bass. “Now, do you truly want to risk losing both of our business?”
The attendant’s features, which had been distorted in a look of confusion during the majority of his tirade, transformed into an expression of blanched shock as she seemed to gather that she was speaking to one of the store’s most reputable customers.
“M-Mister Wallace! I must apologize! I had no idea this girl’s entrance meant such a great deal to you.” Bowing at the waist, she quickly added, “Of course she may enter. I hope you will forgive this incident!”
As the attendant hurried back into the store in a flurry of fluster, Wallace turned back to the trainer, a look of pleasant amusement and a brief chuckle having erased any semblance of his previous indignation. In that moment, he had a sudden desire to be a champion of fashion for the disenfranchised girl, oddly seeing a younger version of himself in her curiosity.
“Mademoiselle, I do hope you will forgive my outburst. I just can’t bear to see people turned away from exploring their passions! I’m Wallace.” Drawing an arm across his middle and bowing briefly as if in apology, he met her gaze.
“If you need any help exploring the world of fashion, I am more than happy to serve as your guide! After all, I was just about to enter the store myself.”