This started as a thought exercise to see what would make Flash not only interesting, but sympathetic at a time when it seemed like the entire fanbase hated him. It ended up making him one of my favorite characters and became a short story I couldn’t get out of my head. Turns out I still like it. (Really hope I don’t regret posting this.)
Takes place somewhere in between Legend of Everfree and Good Vibes. (The phrase “head full of fire and music” is shamelessly lifted from the movie All About Eve; nothing else felt like it worked as well there.)
Maybe
it was fitting, she thought. Sitting on the steps of the school
science wing, staring at the second-place ribbon in her hands, Sunset
couldn’t move past the feeling that she was staring at her whole
future. While the exact shade of red clashed with her hair, the
color overall was probably some sort of sign. It was her color,
after all, why wouldn’t it be her destiny, too?
It
wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for Twilight, or even all that
surprised. Well… okay, she was surprised, which just made her feel
like the judges should have given her a dunce cap instead. Of course
Twilight was going to come in first, who had she been kidding? She
deserved it, too; her project was so far beyond anything Sunset could
come up with it was impossible not to stagger under the weight of her
own presumptions of having a shot.
And
on some level she’d known it, all those weeks she’d spent slaving
over her entry. But something deep down had been whispering to her,
sweet, cruel lies that fanned that tiny spark of hope. That work was
the best she’d ever done. She’d pushed herself so hard, coming home
from work, her feet and back aching from eight hours of waitressing
in unforgiving wooden sandals, only to sit at her desk and pour over
her lab results until the pre-dawn birdsong signaled it was time for
her to get a few hours sleep before school. Maybe she wouldn’t have
worked so hard if she hadn’t been so sure she was onto something. It
wasn’t just about proving herself, what she was working on
preoccupied her during class, during work, even while seeing her
friends. Work was exhausting but she came home with her head full of
fire and music. It wasn’t just about the scholarship money she
desperately needed, it was the passion of doing something she loved
and knowing she was doing it well. The best she’d ever done.
But
it wasn’t even close to good enough.
It
wasn’t Twilight’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was simply
the way things were. Twilight was a genius, a real live
Einstein-level genius. Sunset was good, maybe even great, but
Twilight was on a whole different level. She had a room filled with
awards to prove it. This one would join them, one amongst
multitudes. She wondered if she even saw them anymore or if they’d
all faded into the background of everyday things, like the old
magazines by the couch you never read anymore but keep forgetting to
put away, your eye so used to seeing them there they don’t even
register anymore. Taken for granted, forgotten, just part of the
scenery. Maybe that was unfair. Maybe she still remembered they
were there, looked at them with pride and accomplishment when she
came home, used them as inspiration to keep trying hard. But would
one less have made much difference to her? One less trophy in a room
filled with them wouldn’t be noticed, but one award in a small, dimly
lit studio apartment with creaky floors and drafty windows…
She
stopped herself there. The circumstances didn’t matter, how hard
anyone worked didn’t matter, what mattered was the end result.
Twilight deserved to win. She was her friend, her good friend, with
a kind heart and a giving nature. She knew all of this, and knew if
the situations were reversed Twilight would be so happy and excited
for her. So not only was Sunset a second-rate scholar, she was a
second-rate friend.
The
ribbon blurred in front of her and she felt the soft pats of tears on
her hands. Great, her self-pity was really on a roll now. As she
angrily wiped at her face, willing herself to get a grip, she heard
soft footsteps approach from behind. Perfect, if it turned out to be
Twilight her day would be complete.
Instead,
she saw a pair of familiar sneakers as the person sat on the steps a
little to her left. Not Twilight. She sniffed, not sure how to feel
about this.
“It’s
so stupid,“ she finally said when it became clear he was waiting
for her. “I really am happy for her, but I can’t seem to stop.”
She forced an embarrassed smile, still wiping at her eyes, trying to
summon every last shred of self control she had to stop crying. It
was a stupid scholarship, hardly the end of the world, and certainly
not worth this ridiculous display.
His
hand hovered at the edge of her view, holding a white handkerchief.
Of course he had a handkerchief. No one had used them in a hundred
years, but leave it to Flash to carry one anyway. Hesitantly, she
accepted it, finally clearing most of the moisture off her face.
“You
did a really amazing job on your project,” he said after a minute.
“I couldn’t understand a word of it, but coming in second to
Twilight’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I
know,” she squelched the tiny spark of resentment his words evoked,
“she deserved it. I really am happy for her. I just wish…”
She trailed off, ashamed of what the end of that sentence would be.
“I just wanted it so much. I was so sure…”
The
sound of a distant but familiar laugh made them both look up. A ways
off, Twilight and Timber were walking toward the parking lot. She
was holding the trophy up for him to see, her hand on one handle, his
on the other. He said something that made her beam right before he
lifted her up and spun her in a circle.
Sunset
glanced over, noting the look that passed over Flash’s face as he
watched the couple walk away, hand in hand. Even without her geode
power she knew exactly what he was feeling right then. For a second,
her self pity faded and was replaced by a strange mix of pity,
admiration and relief for this hopeless dork who deserved better.
Suddenly she didn’t feel quite so alone.
“Someone
told me once that even if you try really hard, sometimes things just
don’t work out.” His voice had that forced cheerful quality he
used when he was trying to be positive in spite of his actual
feelings. It used to drive her nuts. “That the best thing is to
just move on.”
She
could feel the rueful smirk on her face. This guy. “I believe
their exact words were, “you need to get over it.” Making him
quote herself to herself. She’d be impressed if she weren’t so
annoyed that he was right. “And it’s a little easier said than
done sometimes.”
“Yeah.
It doesn’t go away overnight.” His eyes got distant for a moment
before he looked over and offered a slightly sad but sincere smile.
“But the person who told me that’s pretty smart. I’d listen to
her, if I were you, she tends to know what she’s talking about.”
He
could still surprise her sometimes, it turned out. This time the
tears she wiped away weren’t entirely sad. “Yeah, well… she has
her moments.” She folded his handkerchief and handed it back to
him. “So do you.” He took it with a subdued but grateful smile
she imagined must be pretty close to the one she had on. “Thank
you.”
He
shrugged bashfully. “That’s what friends are for.” This guy.
“Can I give you a ride home?”
“Nah.
Got work. It’s not far, I’ll just walk.” She stood up, looking
down at the ribbon again. At least her evenings would be free again.
She could brush the dust off her guitar, maybe finish that level of
Tirek sitting idly in her console, or even just catch up on her
sleep. She never realized how much she missed those things until she
couldn’t have them.
“You
sure? The mall’s on my way, I can drop you off.” He stood as
well, shoving his hands in his pockets. He meant it, it wasn’t an
obligation, something said just to be nice, or even because he wanted
something from her. He just wanted to make things a little easier
for her.
“That’s
okay, I like the walk. Helps me clear my head before dealing with
people’s low blood sugar and screaming kids for hours.” He nodded
in understanding. “But thanks. For everything.” She meant it.
Judging by the smile he gave her, he knew it.
