muses of championshq penned by the one and only missa!

CELESTE BENNETT | 44. Director of Dallas Outlaws Cheer

CASSIAN BAPTISTE | 39. Founder & Owner of Rebound Lab

CATALINA MONTOYA | 34. Lead Vet at Montoya Ranch

CAMERON REED | 30 . USPS Mail Carrier. Poet & Artist

CALLUM VALE | 27. Archivist & Librarian at Dallas Library

Why on earth was he doing this to himself? He really passed on the opportunity to bring some pizza and a Diet Coke to have dinner with his gran in the nursing home tonight. Instead, he decided to subject himself to the casting gazes, many of disgust, some of curiosity, with his presence here tonight. If it weren't for the twelve-pack of beer he brought as an olive branch, he was sure he would never cross the threshold of the door. As he went to grab another drink, he knocked into none other than Savannah. She was the people's princess. "Savannah," he nods as he greets her. "Apologies. You look…nice."

"How do you even do that?" he looks at her, truly dumbfounded. It was graceful and elegant, as if she were gliding effortlessly along a plain. If he dared to attempt the same moves, he probably would have hurt himself in the process. "You open to some probing questions for a project?"

"I heard a little birdie had a pretty damn successful event," he smirks as he helps himself to the empty bar stool. "How are you holding up?" Cash, unfortunately, had to miss the opportunity to laugh at some of the townsfolk singing whatever song they sang privately in the corridors of their bathroom walls on any given night. His cousin's wedding fell on the same day, so he left and traded a town favorite bar for a ballroom that weekend. At least he was able to donate towards the cause and laugh at the socials away in spirit. "Willing to host it again?"

"Told you this was a bad idea." People were not too pleased with his return to town, as if he brought the bubonic plague with him that he was waiting to unleash upon all those who scorned him and his family throughout the years. What Cameron learned was that he could only control his own reaction, not anyone else. If they were unsettled, it was not his problem. "I swear, Sasha might throw a drink in my face any second for crashing."

"Could you imagine living here?" Normalcy, normalcy. That was the goal for today. No faking anything, just trying to be herself. Ew. She hated it, but she was bored, and based on what she falsified to her therapist, this was the next best step forward. Needing another's opinion, she brought along Zee to mostly affirm her own decision-making. "Okay, what do you think? Perfect for the summer launch party, right? The garden, the pool, what more could you want?"

"Hey," she said, tapping his forearm, "I need you to order me a French 75 since the bartenders are too consumed by being oggled by men than quenching my thirst." She had no clue who this man was, but she needed a drink pronto. Otherwise, this night would become really dull, and who wants to be sober at a nightclub? "Please and thank you."

"Brookie! You didn't!" she squeals at the sight of her bourbon on rocks waiting for her presence. "It's like you know me so well." Cat was running thirty minutes late to their planned catch-up, thanks to a cow giving birth earlier than scheduled. She was practically off the property when she got a call with no one able to handle the situation, despite how many times she'd walked them through it before. However, she couldn't blame them. She'd have their heads if any of her animals were hurt. "How are you, sugar plum?"

Growing up in Dallas, Catalina had seen hundreds of thousands of people come and go through the years, and a handful remain. The athletes were always her favorite. Some in their prime, others fresh on the block, and seeing the broken and injured whither into the dust. With her name, there was nothing flashy about their lifestyles, but she definitely enjoyed being adjacent to them. Hence, a private buyout at a premier Italian spot downtown. Walking up to the bar to fetch herself another drink, she gasped in faux shock at the sight of Marco. "Wow, look who decided to grace us with his presence. Where've you been hiding?"

"Wilder," she calls him out as she spots him in the bar with his flashy new cast. The number of people who texted her asking Catalina if she was being mean and placed him on an unbroken horse was ridiculous. He was special in his own right, but boy, could she strangle him. Yet, the storyline kept changing from each person she heard it from. "Clearly, you must have done something pretty basic that's not as epic a storyline. I think my favorite version was that you fought someone in an alleyway trying to stop a thief from stealing this girl's purse."

"Is it bad that I already want it to be September so the girls can go back to school?" It was the first year that both of them were out of the house all day, and she didn't have to worry about having a nanny to watch her youngest. It gave her the breathing space she needed between all her tasks and responsibilities she had to manage. Now, they were running amok, and it had only been a week. "I told Nina she's old enough to be shipped away to sleep-away camp this year," she chuckles. Not that she could dare to part ways with her daughter so soon. "Anyhow! How are you? It's been a minute since we caught up."

One of Celeste's favorite joys outside of being a mother and a wife is her team. Curating an environment where these talented women show off their skills, develop themselves, and build this unique sisterhood was a privilege. With the new season just a few months out and training camp wrapping up, they were in the home stretch of fine-tuning and launching the new time publicly. "Alrighty, so fill me in. You know me, I want to hear your honest take. Thoughts on the new team? Choreo?"

"Yasmin, thank you for waiting. Had to pull two teens apart who were trying to bench press 300 lbs." Cash swore if he heard another one of them come in here talk about looksmaxxing, he was going to revoke their membership. The world of toxic wormholes truly amazed him, how information based on air circulated and became a substantial reality for some people. "Anyhow, you were referred by Patrick. I got one of our therapists going on maternity leave and looking for coverage." Cash figured that with them being in between seasons, they could be an option. "Your resume is impressive, so I figured if I could at least get you in here to see the space and our operations… maybe I could convince you to join us for the next few months."

Anytime Cash got an invitation for some networking event in town, he found himself more interested with each passing one. As a businessman responsible for providing financial backing to employees, Cash wanted to stay ahead of the game. With it came the new kids on the block, taking up residence in these various sports teams. They had a pulse on things he no longer had the energy to keep up with, and it would be wise for him to keep tabs as much as possible. With a drink in his hand, he sees the star hockey player across the way. "Mason!" he calls out, with his hand out to greet the other. "How are you doing, man? Congrats on the season."

He really thought two years away from this place would be enough time for his name not to fall on people's lips. Yet, despite the path Cameron carved for himself contrary to people's expectations, it still wasn't good enough. Cam couldn't give them the satisfaction anymore, so he's kept to himself for the most part, minus karaoke night and reconnecting with a few friends. On the way back from the library, he was watching some installation outside of a shop he hadn't seen before. They looked to be struggling a little bit, but not everyone wanted help, least of all from him. "Would you like a hand with that?" he calls out.

"Sorry, did you say something?" Callum had been at the coffee spot all afternoon, working through manuscripts and parsing out the information in the books for this project. Plus, he brought work out in hopes of working on his dissertation, but failed beyond the title. So immersed in the project before him, Cal failed to notice the shop was closing, remaining the last patron in the space. "Damn, I didn't even see the time go by. Is it too much to ask for one more black coffee?"

The woes of these goddamn devices kept your attention away from what was happening right in front of you. Mid-text with a phone in one hand, attempting to reply to his mother's plan for her upcoming birthday, a coffee in the other, he completely missed the woman. "Shit, my bad," he said, looking up at her. "I didn't get any coffee on you, did I?" He did his best to keep his cup from splashing onto her mid-collision.