Disclaimer: Don't own Power Rangers and never will, although it be pretty cool if I did, Saban/Disney owns them.

side note: there are few minor things you should notice, when the line comes across in the middle of the chapter that is Tanya remembering her past, those line are italic just like these.

Ch 1

I'm required by law to tell you…..

I simply don't feel like putting up with this kind of crap. I've put up with it for so long that I think I've lost myself completely. My duties as a ranger are over and have been for over five years and I'm done with trying to be someone that I I'm not.

I look over my shoulder and try to see the eyes behind the mirror that have held me here for so long. I don't want this, this sort of thing isn't for a person like me who once had been struggling to save the human race.

The notes play along as I hear the playback of my voice and I notice more than one or two simple mistakes that can be redone.

Where did I go wrong?

I know I wanted this more than anything and I even gave it up for that while and focused more on my ranger duties more than anything.

I can't believe that singing has stopped making me feel like being a ranger once made me feel. I was changing the world and helping it move ahead for the best.

"Uh, Tanya, you ready? We're going to start back on the key change and do the whole chorus again." I hear his voice telling me. The voice I longed to hear every so often when I started this whole recording business.

"I can't, my voice is out, I'm gonna crack." I say as his face changes from serious to are-you-kidding-me.

"What have you been doing? You're voice is important and for you to loose it when we're recording the new album."

His voice is a higher pitch than any other time he's ever raised his voice at me in the studio. The back-up singers notice the uncomfortable tension in the room and immediately say they're taking a break.

"HOLD ON!" I hear him yelling at them. I can take his constant yells and nags at me, but not at this girls who have to put up with singing with me when I know that I'm not supposed to be here.

"Do not yell at them!" I hear yell at him.

He looks at me with his raised eyebrows and I know I just pushed his buttons.

"What?!"

"You heard me, don't yell at them, yell at me I'm the one not concentrating, they're here working with me, I'm the one who's to blame, they just want to take a break, they've been doing great this whole recording session."

One of the producers along with a few of the tech guys across from me take a cue and get up. They leave me alone with my so-called agent/producer, Dennis. He looks at me from across the window and starts screaming some babble into the microphone that distortions itself as it reaches my side and all I can hear is loud screeching static.

"STOP IT!" I scream back as a flash of colors come to mind.

"YUUB CAHNT THELLL MIII WAAATH THO DOO!" I hear the stupid blabber, as he screams his way again into the poor microphone.

I look around with tear in my eyes, nobody has ever treated me like this before.


The sun was out that day as I headed over to the recording studio and I took it as a sign that I would do great in my first recording session with Dennis.

It had been only a couple of month since my days as a ranger had ended and I knew I had to go on with my life, but that had been a little hard, especially since being a ranger took most of my time. I had taken a few courses in the community college in Angel Grove, but having only school to worry about was not my type of life, I guess I needed a job, so I took one in the local café.

There on Friday night we held open mic and that one day Kat had come to visit and made me get on stage sure enough there was Dennis, he heard me and wanted to sign me. I thanked Kat for having done that, otherwise I'd probably still be there.

It took a while to get things straighten out but finally my dreams of making great music would be accomplished and I could get on with my life.

The beginning was amazing just like any young artist would have thought it would be. The recording studio was filled with laughter and I had always a smile on.

The lyrics I wrote were always accompanied by great music and I never had a doubt that my music inspired others.

The first three albums were great, but when Dennis came and said that R&B wasn't supposed to be to inspirational I took it as a change, one that I would grasp and love, but as I heard the lyrics every time he wrote a new song they were just meaningless.

I tried so hard for more than two years to take it as a positive, but when the music you make stops being the one you had once loved and known to be great, it just never sounds right.


"Tanya!" I hear him yelling again.

I make a face and grab my bag.

"I'm leaving!"

"What?"

"I'm LEAVING!" I scream in order to get my point across to him.

He enters the studio and he runs to the door to block my exit.

"You're not going anywhere…." He whispers. He's done this before, threatening me, telling me things behind others back, just so he can have the upper hand in the situation. When did the love become a hurtful person who now looks at me with enraged eyes?

"Dennis, you can't keep me forever."

I meet his stare, I know I'm scared, but I won't show it, not as long as he treats me this way. I'm not a weak person, I've never been, so why have I let him turn me into something that I'm not?

"Tanya, if you leave, we're through. I will make your life miserable. You will never ever be in a recording studio again." His anger to scare me doesn't work, that's his only weapon. I have my determination, and I'm getting out of here.

"You leave…" He whispers as he grabs my shoulders and shakes me. His anger is different than before, he should know better than to mess with a martial artist, but he doesn't know that about me.

I look at him and smile.

"I'm required by law to tell you that I have a black belt."

As I say the words, I grab his arm and flip him.

I don't intend to hurt him but just giving him that little taste of who I am gives me some satisfaction. He's definitely messing with the wrong girl.

I hear him grasp for air and he tries to get up, but all I hear is a thud as I walk away.

I turn to look at him one more time and I say, "I'm leaving," in a whisper.