The next few weeks were, to say the least, complicated.

I found it awkward to be around Piers for long periods of time nowadays; which was problematic, considering how much time he spent with Team Yell while we were fixing up the stadium. The Gym was our last big project before we could invite large groups of tourists in; it would be the piece de resistance, doubling as a concert arena and a place for official battles.

So far, Spikemuth had attracted more and more curious Galarians by the day. Now that the Gym Challenge was over and done with (Leon still reigned undefeated), former challengers liked to revisit some of the places they had been on their travels. Gossip traveled fast around the region, and I couldn't help my beam of pride whenever someone walked into Spikemuth with their jaws slack, gaping at the town's new look while they remembered the old.

Instead of flickering lamp post lights and sagging buildings, there were now fairly lights strung between complexes that twinkled in the colors of Team Yell. The buildings had been given a fresh coat of paint, and some of the windows had even been fixed. The debris that used to be scattered throughout the streets was nowhere to be seen, and the Zigzagoons were more than happy to curl up on some stranger's lap (provided they were fed afterwards).

Souvenirs, like leather jackets and the horns Team Yell used, were being sold at an alarming rate, which poured loads of money back into businesses--and the end goal of restoring the stadium--and created a demand for more workers, which had people moving into Spikemuth and slowly raising its population into the 30s and eventually the 40s.

But, to earn enough cash to have a nice budget, we would need something more. A functioning mode of transportation from other cities to Spikemuth. So far, the only ways to get there were through the Route 9 tunnel by bike or walking, swimming Circhester Bay or calling a Flying Taxi to Route 9. We needed to bring an easy and comfortable mode of transportation to the little seaside town. What we needed was Maddie.

********

Anxiously, I held my phone in my hands as I waited for Maddie to pick up. Piers had allowed it back to me for a few minutes while I worked out a deal with my 'friend', but it was hard to tell if we were friends at all any more. I nearly went into cardiac arrest when her bubbly voice sang, "Hello~! Madeline Amaterasu from the Flying Taxi Company at your service! What can I do for you?"

"H-hey, Maddie," I said nervously. "It's-" Instantly, the line clicked dead. Panicking, I pulled up her number on my phone and hurriedly texted, Wait! Maddie! Please, just hear me out! Nothing. I sighed, pressing my palms to my eyelids. Great. Now I'd lost my one lead to getting Spikemuth the help it needed.

Suddenly, I heard a small ping. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the one word, four-letter message Maddie had sent back. Fine. Bubbles signalled she was typing something else, and I held my breath. But you'd better explain absolutely everything to me, unless you want me to deck you next time we meet in person.

That's fair, I typed back, a goofy grin spreading across my face. Instead of the quick, in-a-nutshell story, I painstakingly wrote down every detail of my journey so far. How I'd been sent here from Kanto by my father to collect Wishing Stars, how I'd been caught at the Chairman's masquerade ball, how I had spent the last six months restoring Spikemuth, and not forgetting to layer in countless apologies for everything.

I almost fainted when the phone buzzed with the caller ID, Maddie. Hurrying to answer it, before I could say anything close to an apology, Maddie cut me off by shouting, "For the love of Zamazenta, mate! You were a top secret spy and you didn't bloody tell me about it?!"
"I think the reason why is in the name, Madz," I smiled, glad she was back to her regular self.

"Still, you could have given me a bit of a warning next time before you try and throw me off a stadium!" I laughed nervously.
"Yeah. I'm really sorry about that. I know it was my job and all, but it's no excuse. You were my friend, and what I did was wrong. Really wrong."
"Don't sweat it too much, love. I feel better knowing you didn't really want to knock me off. I kinda got it from when Lazzie didn't attack me, but it's nice hearing it from you."
"Thank you."

"And you listen to me; we are still friends. Friends mess up sometimes, and that's okay."
"Do friends try to push each other off of Hammerlocke Stadium using their Pokemon?"
"Well, you got me there."

I laughed. "You said something about fixing up Spikemuth right? Now, I'm sure you're doing a bang-up job and all, but I take it you didn't give me a ring out of the blue for nothing at all. What can I do to help you out, love?"

*********

As it turns out, Maddie could be a very good taxi driver when the job she was given was important. That, or her flying skills had improved tenfold since we'd last met. She was a wonderful host, ferrying people from all over Galar--from Wyndon to Wedgehurst and everywhere in between--right to the entrance of Spikemuth, which I'd taken the time to clean up a bit before more people arrived.

The metal door that led to the entrance of town had been scrubbed free of rust and other mysterious stains. The old posters had been replaced with new ones for Piers' concert he had performed last week and were on schedule to be renewed every month or so. The townhouses peeking out from the sides were given fresh coats of paint, the roofs were reshingled, and it generally looked like a much friendlier place. Especially once I'd set up my tour-guide booth.

"'Ello!" a grunt would greet the incoming tourists. "Welcome ta Spikemuth! Tours 'round here cost 20 Pokebucks. Ya can see the Gym, some restored places in town, an' maybe even meet Piers or Marnie!" Meowsie liked to help out with leading the tourists around town, perched on the shoulders of a grunt, or occasionally Marnie.

I liked to lead people around town as well; it gave me some nice quality time with Meowsie I hadn't had in a while. I'd noticed Piers gradually giving me a longer leash when it came to Meowsie, and I was grateful. I'd really missed her, even if I didn't admit so out loud.

***********

"Piers," Marnie gasped, the sound of footsteps filling the sound of my radio. "Quick! You gotta get to the stadium!!!"
"What's the matter, Marn?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"No time to explain! We gotta go, now!"

As I heard the duo running down the streets, I pocketed my radio and signalled to the grunts with my hands. Our plan had to be kept under wraps, lest Piers find out about it before we were ready. As he and Marnie thundered into the stadium in a panic, everyone in Spikemuth leapt from our hiding places--

"SURPRISE!!!"

"Huh?! Wha-?" Piers gaped, shocked and confused as his eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. "Hope you like your birthday present, Piers," Marnie grinned, and she gave him a giant hug around the middle.

The stadium's transformation had been completed. The battlefield, whose paint had only yesterday been cracked and faded, now had striking magenta marking Marnie's side, and the traditional league logo on the challenger's side. To add more uniqueness to the battlefield it didn't have prior, one of the grunts painted fierce Zigzagoons on Marnie's side to emphasize the point of her using Dark types.

All the lights behind the stage had been fixed and now burned with an intense neon glow that made the neon Dark logo shine even brighter by comparison. We'd expanded the stage out more, so Piers had more room to walk around during shows, and got rid of all the stairs, save a few on one side. We'd bought new spotlights to shine from up above this time, and a control booth was stationed just outside the chain link fence that held Team Yell and myself for a limited time.

We got new speakers and set those up, repaired the old instruments we'd found behind the stage, polished them until they glowed in the neon strobe lights, and positioned them so a band could easily pick them up and play. Fairy lights now hung above the whole stadium, and to top it all off, a disco ball hung right in the center of the ceiling.

"I..I don't know what t' say," Piers whispered, walking carefully as if his mere presence would shatter this image. "It's just like Spikemuth's glory days."
"I figured we might as well save your favorite place for your birthday," I shrugged as Meowsie climbed onto my shoulder, before catching myself. "I mean, it took the longest amount of time and the finish date just happened to coincide with you turning 23 and all."

"This is incredible, guys," Piers grinned, walking up the stairs to the stage and clearing his throat into the mic. It rumbled around the whole stadium. "Check, one, one two," he said, and grinned as his voice filled the area. "Wicked!" He hopped off the stage and hurried over to the light controls, when he stopped and stared at the Zigzagoon art on the battlefield. "This is amazing," he grinned, admiring the look of the little Normal-Dark types as they 'charged' into battle.

He fiddled around with the light booth for a bit, turning the spotlights from white to pink to green to blue and back again. It was like watching a kid in a candy store the way he bounced around the new Gym; energy I'd never seen before from him poured in bounds as his smile grew wider with every new addition he noticed. Finally, he came back to where we were waiting and I waited for his verdict. Suddenly, I found myself in a bear hug.

"This really means a lot t' me," Piers whispered against my ear. "Really. Spikemuth never would've gotten better if ya hadn't done all o' this. Thank you."
"Y-you're welcome," I said, tentatively embracing him back.

The hug was surprisingly nice, considering it came from a man who made skeletons look overweight. His arms weren't too bony as they clung to me; they didn't dig into my skin in painful ways like how Andy's hugs sometimes did. One of his large ponytails brushed against my hand, and I tensed. His hair was very coarse, but fairly soft; I had the sudden urge to touch it again just to feel the velveteen texture.

By then, we'd been hugging just a half-second too long, and Piers quickly pulled away from me. "Spikemuth, what saw we make the most o' this new stadium, eh?" he shouted, and instantly everybody cheered. We were officially finished with Spikemuth's renovation; the entire team deserved to celebrate.

Piers rushed up to the new stage and brought out his microphone. "Spikemuth, this number's goin' out to our wonderful helper, who brought us up to our former glory," he shouted into the mic as Team Yell crowded around the stage, whooping and hollering. A couple grunts made their way onstage to take up positions at their instruments as he spoke, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of longing when one of them grabbed the guitar. It was the same one I'd been playing when Piers first listened to my songs.

"One, two, one two three four," he screamed, before the band launched headfirst into a very familiar rock song. "Don't wanna be a Galarian idiot," he sang/yelled. "Don't want the region under the new media." Everyone cheered as the guitar blared and the sound of the drums thundered throughout the stadium.

"And can you hear the sound of hysteria?" The whole stadium seemed to shake with Piers' voice, vibrating with the wonderful tenor of his voice. "The subliminal mind-screw Galar, yeah." The entire crowd was captivated by his performance, myself included. He was an entirely different presence onstage; I now realized why people called some musicians 'rock gods'. Up here, under the strobe lights and singing his heart out, Piers looked immortal.

"Welcome to a new kind of tension, all across the alien region, where everything isn't meant to be okay~" His voice dipped and swelled on the chorus, bending the entire audience to his will. "Television dreams of tomorrow, we're not the ones who're meant to follow, for that's enough to argue~~!"

As the song played on, I felt a stronger and stronger pull to the stage. I'd always loved performing; the adrenaline rush, the sense of accomplishment after, and of course, singing itself. Before I knew it, the second verse was over and Piers was halfway through the second chorus. The lights beckoned me forward, and before I knew it, I was charging towards the stage, Meowsie in tow.

As the bass played their solo, I was cutting through the crowd to get to the stairs. When the drums thundered out their ballad, I hauled myself onto the stage and grabbed the guitar. I threw myself in front of the lead guitarist at the last second, and I really let loose.

I felt wild with adrenaline as the guitar wailed and sang and screamed as I played the fiercest guitar solo I ever had. Galarian Idiot was a classic; a song so well known even the most incompetent of people knew at least the chorus. I bobbed my head and swayed with the tune, breaking into a giant grin when I pounded out the last riff.

Piers was shocked, but only for a moment before grinning and continuing the song. I trotted up to him, and Meowsie Copycatted my voice to sing along with the chorus. "Don't wanna be a Galarian idiot, one region under the new media, information age of hysteria--"
"It's going out to idiot Galar, yeah," I whispered softly into the mic.

In the spanse of half a second, Piers' eyes widened in shock, before contorting into wonder, and then into joy. I felt something warm stir in my chest, bubbling up before I burst into laughter as he launched back into the song with even more energy. I kept perfect time with him throughout the entire concert.