//------------------------------//
// Caster 
// Story: Seconds Late 
// by FerociousCreation 
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Alone at last… Alto took in a deep breath, no longer swarmed by squealing mares asking him if he wrote the song he sang for them. He shook his head, laughing in a dimly lit highway. Attention is something he loved. The pony never got much of it from his parents.

But  for once, he walked alone, away from eyes who want to compliment his performance. Harp Hearts was about to give chase when Alto wanted to be alone. However, High Brass stopped her, insisting to let her friend be on his own. Alto would have liked it if she didn’t have a moving wall to stop her, but was glad Harp Hearts didn’t get to see him in another miserable state; she has already seen too much of it in the past.

Realizing he was in the hallway that lead to his locker, Alto felt the need to go to it for no particular reason other than to distract himself. Otherwise, grief would wring the blood from Alto’s heart.

21… 36… 15… The locker door slowly opened, the hinges squeaking loudly in the silent hall. Through the dimly lit light, Alto observed his small piece of home at school. A picture of him and his parents when he was little stuck to the locker door. He wondered if their visit in Las Pegasus was just as successful as any other city or town they perform in; most likely, for sure.

Some books sat at the base, leaning against the metal wall, being useless. Algebra II bore into his pupils and the unicorn laughing to himself. Such a useless subject for a musician. Never in his life did he know of anypony mathematically trained in music. It sounded weird.

Another picture was stuck to the center of his locker wall, but Alto refused to look up at it. He knew it was another picture of him and Harp Hearts. Alto’s storage of tears have ran out a long time ago and crying now would be difficult. Regardless of having tears or not, Alto was still imprisoned in a state of depression. If he could, he would have another round of crying. Alone.

The reality was too strong for the caramel unicorn; he loved Harp Hearts. She was a blessing to him. Nopony was ever willing to help him with his lonely life.

Even his parents were near always absent. And when they were around, all they cared about was their son being a perfect performer. No love. No sympathy. Only business. Very rarely did they give Alto any sign of affection. Only when he showed no flaw in his skill did the parents treat their son.

Alto blamed used to blame himself for his mistakes when they did uprise. Because his parents never showed any type of discipline, aside from scolding Alto for doing an error, the unicorn would punish himself by physically hurting his well being. The beatdowns never consisted of anything too insane. Just a few smacks of his forehead on the table was enough for Alto to see his error before continuing.

Then, when Harp Hearts came to Canterlot, the pain went away, both physically and mentally. The mare would go out of her way to keep her friend from trudging back to his destructive lifestyle. And with his parents' house almost always empty because of their busy schedule, Harp Hearts would end up keeping him company most of the time.

Of course, when he was older, Alto got his own place in Canterlot, as a means to show his parents he can be independent. They didn’t seem to care, as long as their son didn’t end up a dropout. And even though his dwelling was much less appealing than his parents’ estate, Harp Hearts still managed to come over to his studio apartment, sometimes unannounced. Alto used to wonder if Harp Hearts had feelings for him because of her constant support. High Brass would help prove Alto wrong, or at least, never allow him to receive an honest answer from Harp Hearts.

The locker door closed, blackening everything inside it. Alto sniffed hard, keeping anymore mucus from dribbling out from his nostrils. If there was one thing Alto disliked about crying, it was how the nose flares up and stuffs the nose with gross fluids.

Another sniff ripped through the air. It wasn’t his.

Alto’s ear twisted, trying to seek out where it was coming from.

A whimper.

A shadow loomed out of the hallway before a pony came into view. “Spearmint?” Alto muttered, able to see the shadow’s caster.