A camera opens in a noir style bar lounge. It’s empty save for the bartender, who washes glasses absentmindedly as he keeps an eye on the scant crowd. The few patrons of note include James Raven, Shawn Warstein, Noah Jackson, Jackson Hart. The guys are dressed in vintage 1920s pinstripe suits and matching fedoras, though Warstein has long abandoned his by now. Their attention is on the stage where two stunning images please the eye.

To the left is the exquisite Greek Goddess herself. Her hair spilled over her bared shoulders in thick, dark curls; a crown of campanula offsets her Agean blue eyes. She’s dressed in a curve-hugging, silvery-white satin evening gown. Chiffon straps grace her arms just under the shoulders while the neckline plunges scandalously low. Her curves are hugged tightly in the bodice before the skirt fans out gracefully in layers of satin and chiffon. White evening gloves cover her hands as she holds out her arms, swaying gracefully. She looks over towards Warstein and gives him a seductive wink when they lock eyes.

To the right is the Impossible Traveler, looking as though she’d just bathed in starlight. Her glossy locks fall like a golden wave down her back, held in place by a gemstone flapper headband. If the Goddess looked every bit the part, the Star Skipper didn’t’ disappoint. Her own satin number was glimmering rose-gold, plunging dangerously low down her back. The halter-style top is held in place by sparkling diamonds, the bodice hugging deliciously at her curves. It eventually fans out into a mermaid style skirt. Her gold-gloved hands clutch the old-fashioned microphone as she readies her pipes. Raven is riveted by the sight.

Behind them, a piano gently taps out the notes to the songs selected by Atara Themis and Betsy Granger. Atty had been hesitant on the grounds that she couldn’t carry a tune, but Betsy had insisted, promising she’d sing the bulk of the performance. Reluctantly, Atara agreed; however, her spirits lifted when Betsy took her dress shopping. Calling in several favors, Betsy had found the location, the band, and even the bartender at a fair cost. Now she and Atara stood in the spotlight, looking like Marilyn and Rita. Both are finishing warming up and the piano fades for a moment.

“This first one goes out to Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon: I hope you like this one, friends.”

Spotlights hit the girls as a familiar tune begins to ring out. Green eyes slip closed as a blissful look crosses Betsy’s face. A saxophone begins to accompany her as the words pour velvety smooth from her lips.

“You’ve both got great hair
Even when you act kind of shady
Last night I saw you
With a swell blow-up lady
But I need you to train
To keep up with my pace
So I won’t feel quite as badly
When I’m forced to break your face.”

As the beat changes slightly, Atara gets into the spirit and takes the reigns. Betsy leads her in by humming in tune with her.

“We know you’re fabulous
But there’s no way you’re beating us
Yeah, oh, sing it Bets, for me.”

“We know you’re fabulous
But there’s no way you’re beating us
Oh yeah
Fabulous…”

The soft notes change into a speedier, upbeat tempo. Betsy grins cheekily at Atara as she once again steps up confidently to the mic.

“There ain’t no trigonometry or calculus that could equal up
Just what you do to us
So let's make a date
Make it sooner than late
Cuz when we get in the ring
There ain’t no way I could swing
In my determination for glory and attention
Here’s hoping this match puts us back in contention
So you better be ready to handle us
And remember that you’ll remain fabulous.”

Giggling, Betsy leans into the mic and takes up the singing.

“I know that we lost previously
But I’ll be damned if we repeat history
We’re so cohesive
When it’s just between us two
And we’ll kick ass in the match between us and you.”

Both girls harmonize now to finish.

“We know you’re fabulous
But there’s no way you’re beating us
Yeah, we know you’re fabulous
There’s no chance in hell
Beating us.”

In the audience, the boys cheer and call for more. Motioning for the piano player, she blows a kiss towards Raven and holds her hands up in a heart shape. He catches the kiss and holds it against his heart. A lovely rosy flush heats up her cheeks as she closes her eyes and goes into another piece.

“Oh, his eyes, his eyes
They’ll lock on me when we’re fightin’
We’ll share, we’ll share
Through the bout, then our bonds will tighten
He’s so wonderful and I’ll tell him every day
Yeah, I know, I know
When I’m nice to Bobby, he doesn’t believe me
But I know, I know
If he took the chance, we could be friendly
But instead, he tries recruiting me to B.o.B
So I say

Despite the time and place
I can’t wait til’ we’re face to face
‘Cause we’ll be amazing
When we steal the show
And when we meet
Let’s hope the world can take the heat
‘Cause we’ll be amazing
When we steal the show
Yeah”

“His lips, his lips
I love it when TK talks about me
I sigh, I sigh
Because when he woos, he’s so damn dreamy
He’s so wonderful, and I’ll tell him every day
Oh, we know, we know
We know that you and Bourbon are slightly unhinged
Betsy and I don’t mind, as long as you know you’re gonna get pinned
It’s nothing personal and I hope we’ll be okay
So know when I say

Despite the time and place
I can’t wait til’ we’re face to face
‘Cause we’ll be amazing
When we steal the show
And when we meet
Let’s hope the world can take the heat
‘Cause we’ll be amazing
When we steal the show
Yeah”

The girls sing the chorus together one last time as the song fades out. Atara gracefully glides from the stage, heading over to Shawn. Betsy remains at her mic, eyes locked onto James’. He gives her a questioning look, but she flashes him a private smile. Sitting down at the piano, the gentleman playing previously obligingly slides over for her. Picking out a few notes to warm up, she clears her throat for everyone’s attention.

“This next piece is a favorite of mine, and I’d like to dedicate it to the lovebirds over there.”

She nods towards Atara, who has led Shawn to the dancefloor. A soft smile plays upon the lips of the Impossible Traveler as her gaze fixates on James as she begins to sing.

“All of the lights land on you
The rest of the world fades from view
And all of the love I see, please, please
Say you feel it too

And all of the noise I hear inside
Restless and loud, unspoken and wild
And all that you need to say
To make it all go away
Is that you feel the same way too

And I know the scariest part is letting go
‘Cause love is a ghost you can’t control
I promise you the truth can’t hurt us now
So let the words slip out of your mouth”

While Noah and Jackson talk quietly over their beer glasses, James creeps up to the stage and stands next to the piano. Shawn leads Atty effortlessly across the floor in a romantic waltz, the two of them lost in their own world. Betsy can’t keep the smile out of her voice as she lets her emerald eyes wander the scene before landing back on Raven’s face.

“And all of the steps that led me to you
And all of the hell I had to walkthrough
But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say, my love, I'm in love with you

And I know the scariest part is letting go
'Cause love is a ghost you can't control
I promise you the truth can't hurt us now
So let the words slip out of your mouth
I know that we're both afraid
We both made the same mistakes
An open heart is an open wound to you
And in the wind of a heavy choice
Love has a quiet voice
Still your mind, now I'm yours to choose.”

Her fingers pause as she sings out the next part a cappella, her voice ringing through the room.

“And I know the scariest part is letting go
Let my love be the light that guides you home”

Her fingers hit the keys once more as she brings in the finish.

“And I know the scariest part is letting go
'Cause love is a ghost you can't control
I promise you the truth can't hurt us now
So let the words slip out of your mouth.”

Shawn dips Atty low to the ground as the boys begin to applaud. James slides onto the piano bench next to Bets and steals a kiss. Another blush creeps into her cheeks as she giggles under his lips. He pulls away, looking amused.

“I still can’t believe we pulled this off this well.”

“It is masterful, well-played. I think, however, it’s time for you to drop the business and enjoy the fruits of this labor.”

James rises from the bench and offers his hand out to Betsy. With a smile, Betsy allows the musicians to do their thing and lets James lead her to the dance floor. He pulls her in close, his hand resting comfortably on her ample bottom, and is leaning in for a kiss as the camera fades to black.

February 3rd, 2021
Granger Farm, Bellevue, Iowa

The workshop of Joel Granger was and always would be Betsy’s favorite spot in the entire universe. Nothing about it had changed since she was a child and spent most of her time there, hiding from her mother and sister. The entrance was through a “secret” wooden door in the kitchen, through a small underground “tunnel” and into the warm, cozy workroom. To a young Betsy, she felt like Alice making her way into Wonderland. In many ways, it would become so much more. The room itself was small but cozy. A small wood stove stood in one corner; beside it was the chair Joel had made for Betsy long ago. A thick blanket remains thrown over the back for the days she couldn’t get warm enough.

All around the walls were tools of various shapes, sizes, and uses. All were hung meticulously, showing off the OCD Betsy had inherited from her father. The large worktable stood like an island in the center of the room, full of half-finished projects piled up in a precarious pile. In her earliest years, her Pappy would join his son in the workshop quite often. The smell of his pipe tobacco still clung to the walls, sweetly stale and full of pleasant memories. Little Betsy had lived for nothing more than the days she could act as Papa and Pappy’s assistant in the workshop.

This is where our Impossible Traveler sits now, cross-legged in her old chair, the blanket wrapped around her body. She sniffs it, taking in the scents of her childhood and smiling happily. The wood stove heats the room up quickly, adding the intoxicating aroma of burning wood to the blend. In front of her, Joel Granger himself works at his welding station, hyper-focused on his current project. Betsy watches, her green eyes full of love and admiration to the retired Navy Seal she was proud to call Papa. At her request, he’d dropped what he was doing to work on the special request she made of him.

After several hours of careful cutting and the ear-splitting grinding of metal on metal, Joel shuts down his metal cutting machine. Slipping off his heavy work gloves, he lifts the protective shielded mask from his face and grins over at his daughter. His own green eyes light up as he gestures for her to join him at the table. Her legs tingle when she rises and she joins her father at the table. Several little silver stars line a black leather strap. In the center is a newly designed centerpiece for the Shooting Star Championship. A satisfied smile creeps over Betsy’s face as she uses her index finger to trace the shape of the words. Joel watches his daughter curiously, wiping at his sweaty brow with a handkerchief from his back pocket.

“Are you happy with it? I tried to make it as you described.”

Betsy looks up into her dear father’s face and smiles widely. She throws her arms over his shoulders and hugs him happily. "It's exactly what I wanted!"

Joel’s face relaxes into a smile as he pats Betsy on her head affectionately. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to this next part, kiddo. I need a break.”

The two switch positions, Joel relaxing into the chair as Betsy pulls back her blonde hair and walks over to the wall to fetch the heavy-duty hot-glue gun. As she works, Joel ventures carefully into the thoughts that had plagued him since his youngest daughter arrived unexpectedly.

“Is everything alright, Bets?”

Betsy looks up, forcing a smile onto her face. She nods her head eagerly as she answers. “I’m great, Dad. Really.”

“Betsy…”

Betsy looks back down at the belt and continues gluing on the stars. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Papa. Actually, that’s not quite right. I do know what’s wrong with me, I just wish it weren’t and I don’t know how to stop being this way.”

“What way, Betsy? My overachiever and perfectionist?”

As his words inch closer to the subject she knows is coming, Betsy turns her face away. Undeterred, Joel rises from the chair and steps around the opposite side of the table. “Adam already called. You may as well talk to me about it.”

Cursing Adam in her head, she glues on the last start before setting down the glue gun. She rests her hands against the table and leans forward, finally meeting her father’s eyes.

“I should be happy, right? I went two out of three for titles Sunday night, which is more than most people could manage. And yet…” She looks down at the Shooting Star Title and sighs heavily. “I still feel like I failed in the most important match of the three. I lost my chance at winning the top title and I let down my boys.”

“Is that how they see it? That you let them down?”

“Well… no, but-”

“Then what’s the problem? You said it yourself, you won a new championship while retaining another. Perhaps you lost one, but nothing you did was unimportant. You’ll have another shot at it Betsy, but take your own advice for now: Slow down. Enjoy the journey. You did what you always do, kiddo: You saw opportunities fall into your lap and instead of taking them one at a time, you tried to grab them all. Run with what you have and build your way back up to the other… It’s what you’ve always done and it hasn’t failed you yet. Why should you operate any differently now?”

Joel’s low, gravelly voice washes over Betsy like a warm wave. Despite herself, hot tears started to sting her eyes as the weight started to lift from her shoulders. Catching the look on her face, Joel pulls Betsy into a tight hug and rubs her back gently. He plants a kiss on top of her golden head and rests his cheek against her soft hair.

“You’ve got your entire career ahead of you, Betsy. So you didn’t win the top title in your second month in the company, big deal. The fact that you made it that far into the title picture this quickly is a testament to your capabilities. Anyone who counts you out now would be a fool. You’ve made your impression and eyes are going to stay on you going forward. What you decide to do with that spotlight is what you’ll be remembered for. So.” He pulls Betsy out of the hug and holds her in front of him by her shoulders. Matching emerald eyes meet. “How do you want to be remembered, Betsy? Do you want to be the girl who gave up after losing one match… Or do you want to be the conquering hero that overcame all the obstacles thrown her way? Will you be a notable failure… Or an unforgettable legend?”

Blinking back her tears, the defeated look in her eyes turns to hardened determination. Straightening her shoulders and stiffening her lip, she nods up at her father.

“They haven’t seen anything yet.”

“That’s my Betsy.”

Putting away the glue gun, Joel grabs his welding tool and gets it warmed up. Handing Betsy a pair of protective goggles, he slips on his own and stays nearby to assist. With extreme care, Betsy attaches the centerpiece to the leather strap and welds each of the marked spots into place. Once she’s finished, Joel swiftly takes the tool away and sets it aside to cool off. Standing behind her, Joel looks over his daughter's shoulder as she slides off her goggles and flips the belt over to face upwards. Her name shines in bright letters under the new design. Joel chuckles as she pats Betsy on the shoulder.

“It’s you, alright.”

Betsy picks it up and holds it up in front of her. Her face reflects off the shiny silver background and she grins smugly.

“It’s perfect.”

FORMER