Post by impossibletraveler on Mar 24, 2021 15:09:37 GMT -5
She stared up at the space where the XHF Phoenix Championship had rested in its spot; as of AWF’s latest pay-per-view, the space now remained bare. Next to it was the XWF Shooting Star Championship, still firmly under her dominion. Betsy Granger allowed troubled emerald eyes to sweep between the title belt she still had, and the blank space that reminded her of the loss she had just suffered. Her hands were clasped together behind her back; her right foot bounced to a tune only she could hear. Blonde hair hung in unbrushed locks down her back after her workout; the polyester sports bra and leggings clung to her sweat drenched body. A million thoughts raced through her mind at once, all of them tripping over each other constantly.
A light breeze coming in through the open window causes the curtain to flap gently, bringing her slowly back to the present. The constant leader in racing thoughts was the way in which she’d lost to Frankie Webb, a young kid who was barely out of kindergarten. The loss was in such contrast to the wins she’d been picking up in XWF and Project Honor, she couldn't help but mull over it. Referee error had, in the end, led to a decision that wasn’t looking to be overturned... And that’s what caused the two little lines to crease the skin between her eyes. Her blood boiled once again as she recalled being turned away after demanding the match be restarted later that night. This loss, and the one before, were beginning to mark a streak she wasn’t ready to claim.
A noise at the door of the hotel room made her realize she’d allowed her thoughts to run away again. She turns slowly and is unphased to see James Raven watching her, leaning casually against the frame of the wooden doorway. Her heart sank slightly when she saw the strained, almost defeated look in his face. Melancholy brown eyes meet worried green ones; opening his mouth to speak, James stops halfway and closes his mouth again. Closing the distance between them, Betsy wraps her arms around his torso silently and rests her head against his chest. He doesn’t move at first, but neither does she; closing her eyes, she continues to hug him until she feels his own arms go around her. They stand like that for a long time and she can feel the tension all through his body. Rubbing his back, she tilts her head upwards so that she could speak to him quietly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I talked to Ty...”
Her head leaves his chest immediately as she peers straight up into his eyes. James turns his head away to hide his expression, but his choked voice gives away the multitude of emotions going through him. Betsy remains silent, knowing James would speak when he was ready. Taking a few minutes to collect himself, he gives her a final squeeze and gently unwraps her arms from around him. Keeping her hand in his, he sits them both down on the chaise at the foot of the bed. Threading his fingers tightly into hers, James finally begins in earnest.
“He called because... HE called again. Asking to see him, telling him he doesn’t have much time left.” Betsy can hear the loathing dripping off every syllable. “He told Tyler that they could see one another without my knowing about it, their little secret. Fortunately, Tyler still has a shred of loyalty left to old man; he felt uneasy with the idea and that’s why he decided to call again.”
Betsy’s eyes narrow as James explains the update in his situation to her. A deep abhorrence for James’ father grew ever deeper as the potential consequences of Jonathan Raven’s latest actions started to play out in her mind. Never mind the blatant disrespect in the original move to contact him without any sort of heads up; the continued attempts to convince a child to go behind his father’s back were unforgivable. A slow-burning rage began then, threatening to boil quickly to the surface as James started in on his contempt of his father once again. His words reached her ears but never implanted themselves into her brain; as she watched his lips move, the wheels in her head began to turn even more. This problem began to couple itself with her career woes, threatening to culminate in one hell of a breakdown. Getting to her feet abruptly, she tugs on James’ hand to get him to his feet as well and walks over to where her black abaya jacket was hung up.
“We both need to clear our minds for a bit. What do you say we get out of this room and take in the sites?”
Nodding his agreement, he absentmindedly helps her slip it on over her shoulders before shrugging his own leather jacket on. They no sooner have the door to the room open than a flustered looking crew member for Project Honor spots them and bounds over, looking openly relieved. “Oh, thank god, we were looking for you! Miss Granger, the bosses were hoping to get you on camera some today. Would you mind terribly if we followed you around a bit?”
Biting back a scathing reply to let them know she did indeed mind, she casts an appealing look James’ way. Missing the meaning behind her gaze for once, he shrugs. “I guess they can come along for a while. We’ll let them know when it’s time to fuck off.”
Stifling a giggle, Betsy casts him a playfully admonishing look before accepting his proffered arm and allowing him to guide her through the bustling streets of Belgrade. As they took in the natural beauty and breathtaking architecture of the area, Betsy can’t help but note sourly how naturally both of them were able to snap into their “parts” once the cameras were on. Just minutes ago, she and James had both been tiptoeing along complete mental breakdowns; now they both took in the city sites with an air so casual, it was hard to believe there was any strife in their world at all. Even his voice has a carefree air to it when he gently begins to prompt her verbally.
“How are YOU holding up, Bets? You’ve been pretty quiet lately, given everything on your plate.”
It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could shove his own issues to the back-burner to put her at the forefront. No wonder from the outside looking in, she appeared to be the boss of the relationship. It always made her wince when someone would joke about her wearing the pants, knowing just how much she actually depended on him most of the time. Like now. “I’ve been better... Things could have gone a whole lot better at Road to Victory. Apparently, I’m scheduled for a peer counseling session with that referee who botched the call on the match... That should be a delight.” her tone is thick with sarcasm. “March Madness is closing in fast and the level of competition ahead of me is starting to give me pause. I went into it, confident of being one of the favorites to win; but the only names I hear from anyone’s mouths are Doctor D’Ville and Shawn Warstein.” Despite herself, she makes a face as the name of her adopted brother crosses her lips. “It’s pissing me off, being passed over when just a few weeks ago, they couldn’t stop singing my praises. I can’t wait to see their faces when I successfully defend the Shooting Star title AND win the entire fucking tournament.”
They turn a corner and begin to weave their way through a busy farmers marker area. Instinctively, Betsy and James draw closer together, wrapping arms around each other full now to keep from separating. The camera crew struggles to keep up; fortunately for them, the excited locals, noticing the cameras, step aside for them, clearing a path. They wave eagerly as the cameras pass by, earning a grin from Betsy. “I wonder how many of them have recognized us by now?” She sweeps her green eyes over the crowd and realizes that many of them are staring at the pair with open excitement. Others are curious over what the big deal is over the North American couple walking through their market. “I wonder how many of them are going to be a Proving Ground, watching me make an example out of Aiden Reynolds?” Betsy turns towards the camera now and grins widely. “I’ll give these bookers credit where it’s due: when someone calls for an actual challenge, they’ll be sure to deliver. This is a match I can really sink my teeth into; with no offense to the upstart Tyler Bradford and FULL offense to Burning Drip Productions, I’ve been needing someone closer to my level of skills. From everything I’ve seen so far of Mr. Reynolds... I’ll be getting exactly what I asked for.”
Betsy stops dead in the middle of her step; James nearly stumbles, but manages to catch himself before he fell all the way forward. The camera crew bump into one another comically as they come to a halt as well. Turning towards them, Betsy waves her hand in a motion to shoo them off. All of them look flabbergasted as she had done so little, but the gesture became more impatient. With a sigh, the crew leader motioned from them to turn and follow him. Once they were gone, James turns to Betsy with confusion written clear on his face. “You hardly said anything, Bets... What gives?”
His only reply is a troubled look. Approaching a bridge, they watch as small boats sail lazily over the water. Stepping behind her and wrapping her up in his arms, the two continue to stare silently over the water for an undetermined amount of time...
A light breeze coming in through the open window causes the curtain to flap gently, bringing her slowly back to the present. The constant leader in racing thoughts was the way in which she’d lost to Frankie Webb, a young kid who was barely out of kindergarten. The loss was in such contrast to the wins she’d been picking up in XWF and Project Honor, she couldn't help but mull over it. Referee error had, in the end, led to a decision that wasn’t looking to be overturned... And that’s what caused the two little lines to crease the skin between her eyes. Her blood boiled once again as she recalled being turned away after demanding the match be restarted later that night. This loss, and the one before, were beginning to mark a streak she wasn’t ready to claim.
A noise at the door of the hotel room made her realize she’d allowed her thoughts to run away again. She turns slowly and is unphased to see James Raven watching her, leaning casually against the frame of the wooden doorway. Her heart sank slightly when she saw the strained, almost defeated look in his face. Melancholy brown eyes meet worried green ones; opening his mouth to speak, James stops halfway and closes his mouth again. Closing the distance between them, Betsy wraps her arms around his torso silently and rests her head against his chest. He doesn’t move at first, but neither does she; closing her eyes, she continues to hug him until she feels his own arms go around her. They stand like that for a long time and she can feel the tension all through his body. Rubbing his back, she tilts her head upwards so that she could speak to him quietly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I talked to Ty...”
Her head leaves his chest immediately as she peers straight up into his eyes. James turns his head away to hide his expression, but his choked voice gives away the multitude of emotions going through him. Betsy remains silent, knowing James would speak when he was ready. Taking a few minutes to collect himself, he gives her a final squeeze and gently unwraps her arms from around him. Keeping her hand in his, he sits them both down on the chaise at the foot of the bed. Threading his fingers tightly into hers, James finally begins in earnest.
“He called because... HE called again. Asking to see him, telling him he doesn’t have much time left.” Betsy can hear the loathing dripping off every syllable. “He told Tyler that they could see one another without my knowing about it, their little secret. Fortunately, Tyler still has a shred of loyalty left to old man; he felt uneasy with the idea and that’s why he decided to call again.”
Betsy’s eyes narrow as James explains the update in his situation to her. A deep abhorrence for James’ father grew ever deeper as the potential consequences of Jonathan Raven’s latest actions started to play out in her mind. Never mind the blatant disrespect in the original move to contact him without any sort of heads up; the continued attempts to convince a child to go behind his father’s back were unforgivable. A slow-burning rage began then, threatening to boil quickly to the surface as James started in on his contempt of his father once again. His words reached her ears but never implanted themselves into her brain; as she watched his lips move, the wheels in her head began to turn even more. This problem began to couple itself with her career woes, threatening to culminate in one hell of a breakdown. Getting to her feet abruptly, she tugs on James’ hand to get him to his feet as well and walks over to where her black abaya jacket was hung up.
“We both need to clear our minds for a bit. What do you say we get out of this room and take in the sites?”
Nodding his agreement, he absentmindedly helps her slip it on over her shoulders before shrugging his own leather jacket on. They no sooner have the door to the room open than a flustered looking crew member for Project Honor spots them and bounds over, looking openly relieved. “Oh, thank god, we were looking for you! Miss Granger, the bosses were hoping to get you on camera some today. Would you mind terribly if we followed you around a bit?”
Biting back a scathing reply to let them know she did indeed mind, she casts an appealing look James’ way. Missing the meaning behind her gaze for once, he shrugs. “I guess they can come along for a while. We’ll let them know when it’s time to fuck off.”
Stifling a giggle, Betsy casts him a playfully admonishing look before accepting his proffered arm and allowing him to guide her through the bustling streets of Belgrade. As they took in the natural beauty and breathtaking architecture of the area, Betsy can’t help but note sourly how naturally both of them were able to snap into their “parts” once the cameras were on. Just minutes ago, she and James had both been tiptoeing along complete mental breakdowns; now they both took in the city sites with an air so casual, it was hard to believe there was any strife in their world at all. Even his voice has a carefree air to it when he gently begins to prompt her verbally.
“How are YOU holding up, Bets? You’ve been pretty quiet lately, given everything on your plate.”
It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could shove his own issues to the back-burner to put her at the forefront. No wonder from the outside looking in, she appeared to be the boss of the relationship. It always made her wince when someone would joke about her wearing the pants, knowing just how much she actually depended on him most of the time. Like now. “I’ve been better... Things could have gone a whole lot better at Road to Victory. Apparently, I’m scheduled for a peer counseling session with that referee who botched the call on the match... That should be a delight.” her tone is thick with sarcasm. “March Madness is closing in fast and the level of competition ahead of me is starting to give me pause. I went into it, confident of being one of the favorites to win; but the only names I hear from anyone’s mouths are Doctor D’Ville and Shawn Warstein.” Despite herself, she makes a face as the name of her adopted brother crosses her lips. “It’s pissing me off, being passed over when just a few weeks ago, they couldn’t stop singing my praises. I can’t wait to see their faces when I successfully defend the Shooting Star title AND win the entire fucking tournament.”
They turn a corner and begin to weave their way through a busy farmers marker area. Instinctively, Betsy and James draw closer together, wrapping arms around each other full now to keep from separating. The camera crew struggles to keep up; fortunately for them, the excited locals, noticing the cameras, step aside for them, clearing a path. They wave eagerly as the cameras pass by, earning a grin from Betsy. “I wonder how many of them have recognized us by now?” She sweeps her green eyes over the crowd and realizes that many of them are staring at the pair with open excitement. Others are curious over what the big deal is over the North American couple walking through their market. “I wonder how many of them are going to be a Proving Ground, watching me make an example out of Aiden Reynolds?” Betsy turns towards the camera now and grins widely. “I’ll give these bookers credit where it’s due: when someone calls for an actual challenge, they’ll be sure to deliver. This is a match I can really sink my teeth into; with no offense to the upstart Tyler Bradford and FULL offense to Burning Drip Productions, I’ve been needing someone closer to my level of skills. From everything I’ve seen so far of Mr. Reynolds... I’ll be getting exactly what I asked for.”
Betsy stops dead in the middle of her step; James nearly stumbles, but manages to catch himself before he fell all the way forward. The camera crew bump into one another comically as they come to a halt as well. Turning towards them, Betsy waves her hand in a motion to shoo them off. All of them look flabbergasted as she had done so little, but the gesture became more impatient. With a sigh, the crew leader motioned from them to turn and follow him. Once they were gone, James turns to Betsy with confusion written clear on his face. “You hardly said anything, Bets... What gives?”
His only reply is a troubled look. Approaching a bridge, they watch as small boats sail lazily over the water. Stepping behind her and wrapping her up in his arms, the two continue to stare silently over the water for an undetermined amount of time...
