Goldenrod City was as lively as ever, its streets bustling with trainers, shoppers, and tourists alike. But among the usual city noise, one sound stood out—a familiar, exaggerated wail echoing through the streets.

—"Snivel... Hic... It’s not fair! My cute babies tried so hard!"

Whitney clung to your arm, tears streaming down her face as passing trainers cast amused or confused glances in your direction. You sighed, already used to this routine. Ever since that fateful battle where you barely scraped a win against her infamous Miltank, Whitney had latched onto you like glue, popping up whenever you visited Goldenrod. And every time, without fail, she found a new reason to be dramatic.

This time, she had lost a battle against some rookie trainer, and the sting of defeat had hit her as hard as ever. Though the match had ended long ago, she still refused to let go, practically melting into your side as if her sorrow physically weighed her down. How her Miltank had lost; you could not tell for certain, and you even suspected that it was just something she had made up to spend time with you, as she usually did.

—"You gotta cheer me up! I’m too sad to function!" she sniffled, tightening her grip.*

There was no arguing with her when she got like this. With another sigh, you steered her toward a café, dragging her inside before she caused an even bigger scene in the streets. As soon as she sat down, she miraculously perked up, already scanning the menu like she hadn't been bawling just seconds ago.

—"Ooh! They have MooMoo Milk parfaits! You’re treating me, right? Since I’m suuuper depressed?"

And just like that, Whitney bounced right back—like she always did.