Lumiose City at night was a very different place than it was during the day. Shops closed and clubs opened up, various kinds of pulsing music spreading throughout the most popular streets as the sun went down. People congregated by the canal, watching the city's shimmering reflection in the water and enjoying more intimate boat rides. Nocturnal Pokémon ventured out, trying their luck at snatching food from trendy pedestrians, and the battle cafes got all the louder once tourists moved on and locals came to really give them a challenge.

It was never truly dark in the City of Light, but come nightfall each and every street was cast in warm yellow glows crisscrossed with stark shadows. It made the whole place look almost like a painting.

Honestly, Auguste had grown to like it.

He only wished that most of his night life wasn't spent tailing people or cooped up in an office checking city records. Or behind a camera lens, which is where he currently was. Granted the brand new Lumiose Contest Hall was a better spot to hang out than the alleys on North Boulevard.

The city had spared little expense in the hall's construction. Its exterior was the same elegant, refined stonework that could be found in may historical parts of Lumiose, though the glittering lights both inside and out set it apart from older buildings. The interior was the definition of opulent; crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling held up by carved pillars, plush armchairs and chaise lounges were tastefully placed in the lobby and hallways, and expensive rugs on marble floors laid paths toward the audience seating in the theaters at the rear of the building. In the main hall where most of the opening's attendees congregated was the pièce de résistance - a gorgeous crystal centerpiece in the shape of a tree, ringed by thick marble around the trunk to prevent anyone from getting too close. The tree reached up tall, its bare branches spread wide over the guests' heads.

It was absolutely beautiful. And instead of admiring it closely, what was Auguste doing?

Following some supposed fraudster around, while trying not to look sketchy doing it. This whole job had started off poorly. Auguste didn't really dislike his client, but the man had a way of appearing meek while being pushy and passive aggressive at the same time. Not to mention even getting into this event had been a hassle. The soiree throw for the contest hall's opening was public in that the general public could attend through lottery. Wealthy funders, local politicians, Kalosian celebrities and contest stars from other regions could and would be attendance, so the average citizen would have to rely on luck to get an invitation. Naturally Auguste hadn't been lucky, so he'd had to jump through some hoops to get a journalist pass to attend once they'd learned his mark was going to be there.

And on top of everything, the upfront pay was pretty low.

Oh well. It could be worse. And at least he'd snapped a photo of the centerpiece to admire later.

Julien, was able to score an invite to the grand opening of the Lumiose Contest Hall through his work in the fashion world. Though he hadn’t yet achieved the level of stardom he dreamed of, his budding modeling career had earned him some level of recognition. One of the designers he worked with had noticed his potential and got him an invitation to add some glamour to the crowd.

The event was the perfect stage for Julien to shine, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity go to waste. Dressed in a pink and gold ensemble that caught the light with every step, he glided through the opulent hall with the confidence of someone born to be a star. His long gold scarf trailed dramatically behind him as he moved.

With Bijou, his Flabébé floating gracefully beside him, Julien made his way toward the crystal tree, a smile already forming on his face. “Bijou, darling, look at this! It’s perfect, no?” he cooed to his Pokémon, gesturing to the crystal tree with an excited flourish. “What better backdrop for a little photoshoot?”

Bijou chirped softly in response, her tiny body bobbing as if in agreement.

He scanned the room for someone who could take the perfect shot. His eyes landed on a man standing nearby, seemingly blending into the background, his camera in hand. Julien cocked his head slightly—he wasn’t one of the press photographers, at least not one he recognized, and he didn’t look like he belonged to the crowd of contest elites. He looked…out of place.

Still, he had a camera. That was good enough for Julien.

Without hesitation, Julien strode up to the man, with the confidence of someone who had never heard the word "no." He flashed a dazzling smile as he approached, his golden scarf trailing behind him.

“Excuse me, darling,” Julien said. “You’ve got the perfect camera. Would you mind taking a picture of me and my little Bijou here?” He gestured grandly to his Flabébé, who floated happily beside him.

Even with so many people milling about the spacious lobby, Auguste could tell when he had eyes on him. It was a sixth sense he'd developed as a kid, when pitying stares followed him around after the disappearance of his father. And it was pretty invaluable now in his professional life. So when that dull, prickling feeling started spreading from the base of his neck, Auguste slowly lowered his camera. His own eyes quickly found the flamboyantly dressed man approaching him, and he didn't know what to make of it at first. Had he been found out and this was an intern sent to tell him off or something? Maybe not, since the guy was smiling instead of fuming.

By the time the stranger spoke, Auguste was genuinely curious what he'd have to say.

"...huh, really?"

He wants his photo taken? There was no lack of photographers at the event, but it was just Auguste's luck that out of all of them, he was the one that would be singled out. Well, whatever. It couldn't hurt, and maybe it would help him blend in better. Plus it technically was a party. Auguste held the camera up to his eye, first snapping a quick photo of the stranger and his Flabébé before they even had a chance to pose.

"Are you a local celebrity or something?" he asked from behind the lens. The other man definitely looked the part... or looked like he was trying to look the part, anyway, from how he was dressed.

Julien struck his pose instinctively as soon as the camera was raised, his body moving with practiced ease, like he had done this a thousand times before, which in all honesty, he had. But the unexpected click before he even had a chance to fully set himself caught him off-guard.

“A candid! You know, I don’t usually allow those, but you’re cute, so I’ll make an exception.” He winked, flashing a grin. Julien adjusted his golden scarf to catch the light better. He heard the man’s question, and chuckled it wasn’t the first time someone had asked if he was famous, and it amused him every time.

“Darling, I’m far more than just local.” He winked with a big grin on his face. “I’m a star on the rise! You got to photograph Julien Lafleur before he became a household name. Lucky you. Remember the name, you’ll be hearing it a lot.”

“And what about you?” Julien asked, clearly sizing the other man up. “You don’t exactly look like the type who spends his nights snapping photos of glitzy events. What brings you to this fabulous soirée?” His eyes sparkling with interest.

Auguste was clearly pleased with himself for catching the other man off guard. Yep, being petty with a friendly stranger is pretty much the highlight of all my nights. He lowered the camera, looking at the tiny reflection of himself in the viewfinder. Of every word that could be used to describe himself, Auguste probably wouldn't pick cute as first choice, but he supposed one must take compliments where one could get them. He then shifted his gaze to the digital screen displaying Julien's image, and up again to Julien himself. 'Cute' would certainly describe the blonde better - he was handsome, but not in a rugged way. He looked more like he could have been a teen idol in his youth, with softer features that complimented his masculinity rather than sharpening it. Definitely well suited to being on stage or broadcast on a screen.

"Julien Lafleur," Augsute repeated aloud as he gave Julien's features an in-depth, if brief, once over. It was a tip he'd been taught a long time ago to help keep faces and names together in his memory. This Julien was pretty confident, but if he ended up even half as famous as he claimed he was going to then he'd just given Auguste a little nest egg for the future. Lucky me, Auguste thought.

As the small talk started, Auguste's eyes flickered over Julien's shoulder to the man he was supposed to be tailing. So far things were quiet on that front, so he could indulge his newest acquaintance a little longer.

"I stick out that much, huh?" He asked, amusement coloring his voice. He wasn't really surprised to hear that. His usual ensemble of neutral, muted colors blended in well out on the town, but here it had the opposite effect. In a sea of bright, boldly dressed men and women, along with professionals in rich suits dyed the blackest of blacks, Auguste's white and beige was a little bit of an anomaly. Just a little, but apparently enough to attract the more eccentric guests.

"Believe it or not, I am here on business," Auguste said. Now that he knew Julien had nothing to do with his mark, Auguste fished a business card out of his pocket. Introducing himself while advertising - now that was efficiency.

He held the simple card out to Julien. On its face was the name Auguste Vareilles, and below it the words Private Investigator. His business email and telephone number were printed on the bottom of the card at either edge.

Tapping the camera against his shoulder, Auguste nodded his head towards the crystal tree. "If you actually want a proper photo done, I don't mind. It'll expand my portfolio a little. You can probably guess how my usual photos turn out," he said with a quick little grin.

When the man explained he was indeed here on business, Julien’s curiosity only grew. He raised an eyebrow in intrest, accepting the business card that was handed to him. He read the name out loud, turning it over with a grin.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” he remarked enthusiastically as he slipped the card into his pocket. “A private investigator, mingling in the City of Light, rubbing shoulders with Kalos’ finest. Mysterious. I like it!”

At the mention of a “proper photo,” Julien’s ears perked up. Without missing a beat, he tilted his head toward the crystal tree behind him. adjusting his scarf instinctively. “Who am I to deny you a little flair for your portfolio?” he said with a grin. “It’s a win-win, don’t you think? You get your shot, and I get to look fabulous!”

He gave a dramatic flick of his scarf and settled into a pose, head tilted slightly as he gazed toward the chandelier lights. “Capture the essence, darling. The drama, the mystery…” He gestured dramatically toward the tree. “Give me something that will make them gasp!”

As the camera clicked, Julien shifted effortlessly from one pose to another, each one more practiced and dramatic than the last. He angled his face with just the right tilt, letting the light hit his features perfectly. Bijou floated alongside him, mimicking her trainer’s poses.

After the final snap, Julien relaxed, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Well? Did I make the camera sing?” He leaned in, peeking at the camera screen.

Auguste checked the photos, going through them one at a time on the camera's display. Honestly most of them had come out pretty good. The lighting inside of the building was strong but soft, meant to flatter everyone it fell upon. The crystal tree was beautiful and made for a great backdrop, and Julien himself seemed comfortable with being the focus of a photo. That little Flabébé even seemed to know what it was doing, naturally filling in the negative space of some of the shots. The combination of all of those factors made up for Auguste's amateurish camerawork, too used to shooting his subject as close up and middle of the frame as possible with little in the way of artistry going on.

But if he'd been shot professionally before, maybe Julien would think differently. As the blonde came over to check, Auguste hummed and leaned in as well to show him. The two men were pressed shoulder to shoulder to study the small digital screen.

"I don't know about singing, but I think you got some kind of tune out of it," Auguste replied. "They're not half bad, I think."

Auguste would have offered to send copies of them to Julien at some point if he wanted them, but that would have meant getting the man's online mail address - and before he could ask, a rhythmic tone spread out through the lobby's speakers.

<Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending the Lumiose Contest Hall's grand opening soirée. Please make your way towards the main stage theater for a special performance.>

"A live show huh?" Made sense, they were in a contest hall after all. Considering the time and place, it would likely be a good performance too. And I get to see it for free, which is the best part, Auguste thought.

But the sudden thought about money reminded him that he wasn't here to have fun. He did have a job to do, and as the PI swiveled his head around to get an eye on his target again he found that the man had slipped out of his field of view at some point during the photoshoot.

"Ah merde," Auguste said, slapping a palm to his forehead. He shouldn't have goofed around with his new acquaintance so much. Hopefully he hadn't missed any evidence and the man he'd been hired to tail had just gotten a head start toward the theater.

Auguste slapped his hand against Julien's arm just before departing in lieu of a handshake or anything like that. "I've gotta run, nice meeting you," he said, and then he was gone, weaving his way through the crowd of guests.