Rock’n PokéRevolution

Edward felt like he was on the verge of losing his mind. In a matter of seconds, the street had been overtaken by sirens and flashing blue lights. Before he could even understand what was happening, he and Alyssa were already surrounded by several officers.

There was no time to protest — they were quickly handcuffed, their backpacks searched, and soon they were sitting in the back seat of a patrol car, being taken to the police station.

Houndour's Poké Ball and Alyssa's Pokémon were immediately confiscated. Even their ID documents were taken.

Fortunately, Alyssa had already taken care of that for Edward before the trip. Right after they got Houndour, she had taken him to the local Pokémon Center to officially register as a trainer. The process had been incredibly simple: no one asked for anything but a name and birthplace. Within minutes, they took his photo and handed him a Trainer Card with international validity.

It all still felt suspicious to Edward, but at the time, he thought it best not to ask questions.

Now, inside the patrol car, Alyssa was on the verge of exploding. Her eyes burned with rage. She kept kicking the back of the front seats, making the two officers in the car exchange sharp looks through the rearview mirror.

"Shit, shit, Edie boy!" she growled. "I'm going to snap that fat bastard's neck like a twig! Just wait till I get my hands on him!"

"Aly, calm down!" Edward said, trying to keep his composure. "This is not the time to lose it."

"OF COURSE IT IS! WE'RE BEING ARRESTED, EDIE BOY! ARRESTED!"

She shot him such a fierce look that, for a second, he feared he might be the one getting his neck snapped like a twig.

Edward swallowed hard, choosing his words carefully.

"Look, I know this looks bad, but think about it. It's probably a misunderstanding. We're minors, and graffiti isn't even a serious crime. Besides, your grandma will probably fix this fast."

But before he could even finish the sentence, Alyssa froze.

"Damn... I forgot about her. DAMN IT! I'm gonna be grounded for a year! Damn it, Edie, I'M GONNA KILL that fat piece of crap!"

She went back to kicking the front seat with fury, almost making the front passenger officer turn all the way around.

Desperate to change the subject, Edward blurted:

"Look on the bright side... most rock legends have been arrested at some point. It's practically a prerequisite."

Alyssa paused. Took a deep breath. Her gaze was still fierce, but a different light flickered behind it.

"Really, Edie boy?"

"Really. A bunch of them: vandalism, public disorder, substance use..."

He stopped when he felt the officer's stare through the mirror.

"I mean... just the light stuff. Nothing major."

She grinned, relaxing a little.

"You're right, Edie. This isn't the end of the world. It's just one more step toward stardom. Now that you mention it, I remember this interview with the lead singer of Steel Wings. He said he got arrested for peeing on the Lugia statue in Johto. The mugshots became the cover of their next album. Think they'll do the same with us?"

Edward's expression shifted from worried to horrified: she was starting to enjoy the idea of being arrested.

The patrol car stopped abruptly. Edward and Alyssa were taken down a pair of hallways and into an interrogation room. It was cold, colorless, with a single table in the center and four chairs facing a long, dark mirror. Edward had seen enough movies to know: it was a two-way mirror. They were being watched.

Alyssa dropped into a chair, threw her feet up on the table, and chewed on invisible gum like she had decades of interrogation experience.

"Listen, Edie boy. Let me do the talking. They're gonna try and break the weakest link — which is obviously you."

Her tone reminded Edward of the mobsters from the movies his grandfather loved. For a second, he imagined Alyssa in a suit with a cigar.

"I think maybe I should handle it this time..." he replied.

"Nonsense," she said, popping a lollipop in her mouth with the authority of someone lighting a cigarette in a noir film.

Thirty minutes later, the door opened with a sharp click. A woman in her thirties entered. Light blue hair tied in a high bun, piercing yellow eyes. She wore jeans, a white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket with a badge hanging from her belt.

She held a beige folder and scanned them with tired, annoyed eyes.

"Feet off the table, girl."

Surprisingly, Alyssa obeyed without a word — the officer's tone had real authority.

She sat across from them, opened the folder, and said in a dry voice:

"My name is Jenny. I'm handling your case, so — you two are the trendy gang taggers, huh? You've been pretty busy lately. Not even patrol cars were spared."

Edward tried to jump in:

"Officer, we can explain. We're not part of any gang. We just saw that guy, Dante, drawing, and he asked if we wanted to help. We didn't even know it was without permission."

"Oh, sure. 'We were just passing by.' Heard that one like twenty times this week."

Alyssa crossed her arms and said:

"Well, maybe you need to hear it twenty more to get it."

Jenny raised a brow at her.

"You've got a sharp tongue, huh? Must be why you're in cuffs."

"If talking back were a crime, half the world would be in jail."

The officer smiled — without a trace of humor.

"Careful, girl. That tone could get you more than just community service."

Edward quickly cut in:

"Officer Jenny... please. We're only here because of the festival. We came to perform, not to tag walls. You can call Alyssa's grandmother if you want to check. She's... quite influential. We only arrived in town a few days ago. It wouldn't make sense for us to be part of a gang."

Jenny remained silent for a few seconds, studying them. Then, she closed the folder with a sharp snap.

"We'll see if your story checks out. But let me make this clear: I'll be watching you. If that Dante shows up again, and you're anywhere near him... there won't be any polite chats next time."

She stood up, opened the door, and left without another word.

When the door closed, Alyssa looked at Edward, then at the mirror.

"She's got style, I'll admit that. But I don't like her tone."

Edward ran a hand down his face and let out a long sigh.