63. Reagan vs Lincoln VIII: Rendezvous with Destiny

“He did what!” Reagan exclaimed.

“I tried to change his mind,” FDR shook her head sympathetically, “but Keighley insisted on going with JFK for the Ghost Mountain role.”

“Why…why wouldn’t he use me!”

“Well.” FDR spoke reluctantly, “he seemed a tad…concerned…about all the subpar roles you’ve taken on as of late.”

“Subpar roles…” Reagan stared at FDR, dumbstruck. “But you’re the one who insisted I take those jobs…after I kept telling you they were garbage assignments!”

“I know, I know,” FDR said raising her hands, “Trust me, I’m just as upset about this as you are.”

FDR paused in thought before nodding her head.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do: I’ll go and give Keighley one last try later today. In the meantime, why don’t you take the rest of the week off,” she handed Reagan a check, “together with an advance for your upcoming paycheck.”

Reagan gave a soft growl, snatching the paper out of FDR’s hands.

“You’re lucky I’m short on cash,” she grumbled.

Reagan looked over the paper, then gave a frown.

“This can’t be right.” She pointed to the check. “This is less than what I made last month, before I got my promotion.”

“You seem to have forgotten,” FDR spoke softly, “but your recent promotion comes with an increased service fee for the Party.”

“Service…fee…?”

Reagan tightened her scowl as she crumpled up the check in her hand.

“Fees, fees, fees!” She screamed, throwing the check back into FDR’s face. “Why is it that the more I work, the more money I end up giving to the Party!”

“Now Reagan,” FDR spoke with a hint of frustration, “I seem to recall you being in favor of this program when you first joined.”

“I was,” Reagan snapped, “back when I was only giving 10% of my earnings! But this?” she said, pointing to the check, “This is absurd! And it’d be another story if the money was actually being put to good use! But nooo; it always winds up in the hands of our laziest, most incompetent workers! Not to mention—”

“Ronda Reagan!” FDR shouted, shutting her up. She stared at Reagan, then shook her head. “I was really hoping you’d changed your ways…but you’re the same loudmouth you’ve always been.”

FDR brought her over her own eyes as she gave a deep sigh.

“I keep trying to make things work between us, but frankly…I think we’re done.”

“What…” Reagan quivered, “what do you mean?”

“I’m saying,” FDR spoke quietly, “that I think it’s time you leave the New Dealers.”

Reagan stood still, frozen in shock.

“But…but I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked me to! I…I…”

Reagan stared at FDR, remembering all the fond memories they had together…then she remembered all the terrible assignments FDR had given her…the complete lack of respect FDR had shown her over the years…the number of times she had been pushed to the sidelines in the pursuit of fresh talent. Reagan wiped a tear off her face, then looked to FDR with tightened fists.

“…regardless of your reasons,” Reagan spoke up, “I agree that it’s high time I get of this place. After all…your stage is far too small for a star like me to shine! So, if you’ll excuse me,” she said walking out, “I have a rendezvous with destiny!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Seriously?” JFK asked FDR back in the present. “You, the famous people pleaser, actually asked Reagan to leave just like that?”

“Yes, yes,” FDR replied with a good-natured grin. “I know I’m usually not so direct when it comes to removing members from our Party. To tell the truth, I think the reason I was so straightforward with Ronda…”

She looked to her former apprentice on the battlefield.

“…was due to a lingering sense of fear I held. A fear that one day, Ronda would eclipse both me and our Party in her pursuit of greater recognition.”

In the arena, Lincoln planted his axe on the ground, struggling to keep his body upright.

“Come on, Lincoln!” Reagan spoke as she readied her bow from across the arena. “You ought to know by now that I’m not going to wait for you to catch your breath!”

Lincoln scrunched his face as the starry arrow hurtled towards him. He swung with his axe, deflecting the projectile away.

“Abolition!”

Lincoln teleported in front of Reagan, but a surge of nausea rushed through him, teetering him forward. Reagan smirked, shifting into her scorpion form and digging into Lincoln’s torso with her claws. Lincoln grimaced as he took a step back.

“Abol—”

Nausea struck again, distorting Lincoln’s mind, stopping him from activating his EP. Reagan magnified her smile as she dug her hands deeper into his sides. Panicked, Lincoln dropped his axe and shoved Reagan off him.

“Abolition!”

Lincoln teleported away, falling to one knee as he gave a series of heavy, exasperated pants.

“I already told you…”

Lincoln looked up to see Reagan readying her bow.

“…there aren’t any breaks while the cameras are rolling!”

Reagan fired a dozen arrows from her weapon in quick succession. Lincoln started lifting his guard, but the barrage crashed into him before he could mount his defense.

The crowd gave a collective gasp, watching as Lincoln tilted to the side.

Lincoln widened his eyes, planting his feet down onto the ground, catching his fall.

The audience started to applause…but stopped as Lincoln’s legs gave out from under him and his body collapsed onto the floor.

In that singular moment, the entire arena went still as every eye watched Lincoln remain motionless on the ground…

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Reagan’s Flashback III. Ronald Reagan was ultimately denied his greatly desired position for Ghost Mountain, largely due to him acting in subpar films like the Hasty Heart.

Ronald Reagan really was a huge fan of FDR and the New Deal at the start of his career. However, he shifted his views later in life due to a combination of factors, such as him being heavily taxed during a time of financial hardship, as well as the Democrats failing to take a hard stance against Communism. The end of the flashback is both a reference to this political split, as well as to Ronald’s divorce with his first wife. This divorce largely happened because she was sick of him talking about politics, with her at one point going so far as to say “I came here hoping that you had changed, but you haven’t. You’re still the same loudmouth; I might as well go home.”