Yay, I'm not dead! So, this is what I've been working on for the past few days – yes, I will get back to What Happens in Cyberspace, so please be patient. I have a life outside of fanfiction, remember that. Anyway, this story is an entry into MusicNeverStops474's Christmas Contest. If I'm permitted to submit more, I will also enter "Broken Promises," coming tomorrow. If I'm not permitted, that's okay.

Now, this story will have some... unforeseen pairings. Just letting you know.

Songs:
Violet: You Belong with Me by Taylor Swift

Snowflakes danced through the trees of the Botsfords' backyard, the pure, gentle whiteness reflecting the tawdry Christmas lights, blinking merrily in the dark lying over the town like velvet. The stars seemed to shine extra brightly tonight, as if each were determined to outshine the others and look the positively best this Christmas Eve. The snow bit Violet's cheeks affectionately as she waved goodbye to Hunter Throbheart and Victoria Best as they pulled their expensive winter coats around themselves and piled into their Ferrari, one of the last cars to leave the Botsford's annually extravagant Christmas Eve celebration. As they pulled out, she could tell Victoria was especially relieved to turn their backs on the house, and she for one couldn't blame her. After all, what villain would feel secure at WordGirl's house? Of course, Becky was just being courteous for the press. Public approval seemed to dominate her life, not that she seemed to mind, and showing goodwill toward her enemies was looked upon well.

As the 16-year-old trudged through the heavily piling snow, she wondered with a certain envy of how easy Becky's life had become the day she told the world her secret. At first, the attention from the press had been nearly overwhelming for the 12-year-old, but as Becky had told her best friend often enough, living a double life was worse. As the heroine grew older and the villains grew smarter, her secret identity was constantly putting her friends and family in peril. Finally, when that person became Scoops, she couldn't take it and had to spill.

Soon, however, life looked kindly upon Becky and poorly upon Violet. While Becky was getting acceptance from Fair City, the burden of hiding her secret life lifted, and most of all, a boyfriend, Violet became a highschool dropout and a rejected artist living with a mother who was just getting over her divorce.

Violet had never wanted her life to turn out like this, but one thing just led to another until she couldn't stop it. Her parents, who in the past had been the most happy-go-lucky people in the world, started brutally arguing when her father was laid off the police force when the mayor noticed WordGirl was all the security Fair City needed, dissolving the police the day WordGirl took off her mask for the first time. These fights caused the 12-year-old to lie in bed all night, listening to her parents' frustrated screams and trying to contain her own tears, waking up every morning shaking with sadness and exhaustion until her mother finally cut the cord and filed a divorce. Her school and artwork had suffered as a result, causing Violet's world of innocence to be ground to dust and shattered into painful shards.

Don't think like that, Violet scolded herself as the tears froze on her cheeks. You can't feel sorry for yourself, because that won't fix anything. No one helps you if you cry. Remember, you wanted to leave that highschool in the first place, so you wouldn't have to see them so much.

But didn't she have a right to be angry? In her mind, it was all Becky's fault for her life-flip as she now called it. Plus, Becky's life was just so maddeningly perfect. Now that was just salt to the wound.

Stop that! She instructed herself. Becky's your best friend. She's saved you millions of times. You only hate her because… y-you knew about it for years; it shouldn't have been a big shock.

But it had been.

Violet brushed away the powdery snow until it was reasonably dry and sat down on the driveway, admiring the radiance of the moon. She hugged her shivering legs against her chest and stuck out her tongue in vain hope of catching one of those evasive snowflakes dotting the velvet night sky, capping the suburban houses. As a child, she used to call the snow 'tears of heaven.' It was a suiting name. Sighing, she thought of how this picturesque scene would've been just the thing she would have drawn. Violet extracted her old paintbrush from her pocket and twiddled it absently in her hands. She hadn't painted in four years: sorrow made the colors dull and ugly, and it drained the light and beauty from its radiance. The paint no longer whispered lovingly to her, instead passing its allegiance to a mistress who could see the loveliness of the world and reflect it with the serenity in her heart. Still, Violet carried her paintbrush around everywhere she went, longing for the day when she would sit in front of her easel and the paintbrush would dance through her fingertips and trace a magic spell around her heart.

Getting up, Violet left her wintry isolation in favor of the warmth of the Botsford's home.

The Botsford's house was an explosion of color. Extravagant paper chains draped the walls and twinkling Christmas lights snaked their way around the ceiling. Pastel-colored ornaments hung in every nook and cranny, leading the way to the merry Christmas tree featured in the center of the living room. Wooden birds were strung from its grand boughs, and strands of popcorn and tinsel weaved their way around the vibrant evergreen to center around a single radiant star, reminding Violet painstakingly of WordGirl's signature emblem.

Absently, Violet took a leafy green artichoke from the refreshments table and dipped it in butter. Every year, Fair City had the strange tradition of choosing food themes for Christmas, and this year was artichoke. Apart from the vaguely disturbing memories of an army of artichokes rising from the ground in fifth grade, Violet had no problem with this; at least it wasn't cheese-themed as it was five years ago. Honestly, she knew the people in Fair City weren't the sharpest crayons in the box, but who themed a holiday cheese when a notorious, cheese-stealing villain had just broken out of jail? Some people just didn't get it.

Violet looked out at the gleaming white moon and concluded it was time to leave. Venturing out into the hallway, she wanted to at least say goodbye to Becky before she left. Determining her best friend was most likely in her bedroom, she deftly swerved around the booby traps of mistletoe, even though Victoria and Hunter had been the last to leave the party, meaning the house was nearly deserted. There had to be at least five clusters per room, all to supplement the needs of the 'happy couple'. No, I'm not supposed to be bitter about this!

She scaled the stairway, the fresh carpeting muffling her footsteps. Finally, she timidly cracked open the unicorn-plastered door.

Violet's eyes bulged with amazement at simply most awkward situation imaginable.

Becky and Scoops were engaging in the most passionate kiss known to man.

Here's the thing: when Becky told the world her secret, she never intended for the whole world to know all at once. She had wanted to test it out on trusted people and gauge their reaction before going full-throttle. And who was the first person to be WordGirl's guinea pig? None other than Todd Scoops Ming.

Of course, Scoops did the only rational thing his reporting-obsessed mind could think of and absolutely violated Becky's plea for secrecy, printing the biggest headline of his career the very next morning. He had temporarily ruined Becky's life until the scrambled pieces started to finally straighten out and regain some form of normalcy. This was when her resentment toward Scoops began to lift and she revert back to the lovesick admirer she had always been.

But now, Becky was no longer a shadow in Scoops' life; rather, that headline made her the object upon which the sun of his rose and set every day. He would eagerly lap up even the slightest of her affection as long as it came with an exclusive interview, and so it was that the two began their two-year dating. And it was serious dating. They were – and still are – that couple that get the strangest looks on the subway, and yet they themselves are blissfully oblivious. They would make up the strangest pet names and transfer them to cuteness in their minds and giggle for five minutes solid if any part of their bodies made accidental contact.

And Violet hated every moment.

How was it possible? Scoops had never shown the slightest interest in Becky, and Violet had finally believed she, not Becky, had been getting somewhere toward a relationship. They had always been together whenever Becky ran off; heck, he had even given her a valentine once! On rainy days, he had whispered his dreams into her ears, made her eyes see visions of his fantasy. She had weaved herself into his soul until she could feel it streaming through her fingertips and burning in her heart. Didn't that count for anything?

Why wasn't she good enough?

And moreover, why was she reacting like this? After all, she had had two years to adjust to the notion, and it wasn't like she hadn't seen the two of them kiss (they had been practically living under the mistletoe all evening). Maybe it was the sight of Scoops surrendering himself wholeheartedly to someone else, the dull blade of hurt, which never seemed to fade. Maybe it was the overwhelming need to scream as Becky once again broke Violet's heart in complete oblivion to her feelings.

Maybe it was the sound of her soul shattering.

Of course, Violet's gasp was easily detected by Becky's super hearing. Untangling herself from Scoops, Becky looked at Violet, her best friend, with that smile which never seemed to fade.

"Hi, Violet!" Becky greeted enthusiastically. "How's my BFF doing? Did you enjoy my party?"

The sight Becky grinning like the Cheshire Cat drove Violet over the edge. "Since when have you been my best friend?" she demanded bitterly, the words escaping from her usually calm, serene lips.

Her smile seemed to slide off her face like water. "W-what do you mean?"

"It's been two years, and I'm tired of hiding it!" she screamed, letting the barriers crash down in a stream of tears. "I hate the way your life is perfect. I hate the way you expect me to be your faithful lapdog when you've never helped me through any of my problems, even when I've stood by you through all of yours. I hate the way you save a thousand kittens stuck in trees and yet you're too much of a coward to help your best friend. I hate the way you're a hero just so your boyfriend can take a pretty picture of you for the newspaper. I hate the way fame has twisted you into a shallow-minded dolt who waves like a gaping idiot in front of every camera you walk by. I hate the way you expect the world to bow to you and everything to fall into your lap. I hate the way you can stand by and not see the pain I've felt for six years, so caught up inside yourself that you're blind to the world around you. I hate the way you manipulate the people you claim to love. I hate the way you've taken everything and everyone I've ever cared for away from me, even Scoops, the one person who belongs with my more than anyone on the face of the earth. hate… I hate you, Becky Botsford!"

Becky stood there in stunned silence, a silence that soon turned to anger.

"Get out," Becky whispered vehemently. "Get out!" she screamed.

"Becky," Began Scoops nervously, trying to calm her while discreetly shooting horrified glares at Violet. "Think about what you're doing."

"No, Scoops, she said her piece. You heard what she said about me. She's not mad; she's jealous. I'm everything she could never be, just because she wasn't special enough."

"Open your eyes, Becky!" Violet cried. "You have the world in the palm of your hand, and all you do is manipulate the ones around you to get what you want. You expect the human race to bend to your every will; you're your own alien invasion. You've corrupted my world, but the only person you've truly hurt is yourself. You call yourself a hero, but you don't have the guts to step up and save the virtues which matter most. I may not have your glitz and glamour, but I've experienced true love, and it's nothing your cold, twisted heart could ever understand."

Just before she stormed from the room, Violet turned to her friend one last time before slamming the door on that chapter of her life. "Merry Christmas, WordGirl, for you've received the greatest gift of all. You can rest assured knowing the pure, innocent Becky Botsford is dead and buried. All your life, you'll be comforted by knowing you have nothing to fear from death. Your faithful Scoops will stay with you for eternity. You'll both be damned in hell."

Slamming the door, Violet took several deep, steading breaths. It felt amazingly good to let that resentment out, like cutting away the strings of a hot air balloon to soar to a new realm where dreams were made reality and sorrow was an illusion of the past. Finally, she felt free.

"But are you willing to take that leap of faith?" asked a voice behind her. Whipping around, Violet found herself in the arms of none other than Tobey, her – for lack of a better word – boyfriend. But to her, Tobey was so much more yet so little than a boyfriend. Tobey had been a small beacon of light in Violet's world of writhing, screaming shadows. After WordGirl's very public relationship with Scoops, Tobey had given up all hope of winning her heart. The two lonely, broken souls had gravitated toward each other, and yet neither could fully provide a cure to the other's pain. Tobey was a crutch Violet desperately needed for survival, but both knew what they had would never be love. No matter how great the desire, love could never be written, danced, molded, or sung into existence.

But maybe it could be painted.

"Yes," Violet said firmly, the burning flame of hope for a better future lighting the world in a radical spectrum of heat and light and love and beauty. "Scoops is gone. Becky is dead. There's nothing tying me to them anymore. I'll create a new future. You're my future." Trembling, Violet took out her beloved paintbrush and a wrinkled scrap of paper, holding back a scream of triumph. Finally, she felt ready to let the past go and rise from the ashes into the light.

For the first time in four years, Violet began to paint.

I don't know; this is just one of the many paths the WordGirl character's future can go. Violet loses her innocence, Becky loses her ideals as a hero, Scoops' feelings are being manipulated, and Tobey is heartbroken. Not a pretty picture. I was thinking of doing this as a two-shot, but I fear the story would only get worse from there. There'd be a character death, folks, and since this is a Christmas story, I feel like I shouldn't really go there.

Actually, this is a pretty plausible path for Becky, although I hope she retains some of her intelligence. We all know how much she loves the limelight and how much strain her secret identity puts upon her: one day, she has to snap.

So this story had Scecky, Toblet, and technically Sciolet and Tobecky as well. Well, you probably didn't think that was possible, right? Neither did I!

Broken Promises comes tomorrow, and then I'll start working on What Happens in Cyberspace, I promise... and now I'm seeing just how ironic that is from the first two words in that sentence.

Love to all,

Bella