Sensation (SFW Version)

by Vivid Syntax


Chapter 45 - Step One

* * * * *

In the deepening twilight, I see Soarin's forelegs shake as he clutches Braeburn's – well, his – hat to his chest. He struggles not to crush it, and his whole body looks like it's ready to collapse. His eyes are misty, and he keeps partially unfurling his wings like he wants to hide, only to fold them back in once he realizes what he's doing.

And despite his frailty, he looks up and smiles at me. Quietly, he says, "H-he stood up to me, Syn. He did it." His eyes search me.

My body feels open and loose. The cold, analytical buzzing inside my brain is conspicuously absent, and for now at least, good riddance. Without it, I can focus on the pony in front of me, a pegasus that was finally ready to relive one of the most painful moments of his life. Professional or not, I know what I need to do. With a smile, I hold out my forelegs and ask gently, "Would you like a hug?"

His smile widens, and there's a sudden brightness in his eyes that glints in the darkness. "Yes, please," he whispers.

I scoot over as he puts his hat back on. We hug tightly, very close together. His forelegs feel small, like a colt's, and they're still shaking. He relaxes slightly, and with a long breath, he stops trembling. I've made the right choice. I give him a squeeze – a sincere one, not one of those ultra-masculine, quick hugs that I hate so much – and after a moment, we let go. He wipes at his eyes with a fetlock and stifles a sob. "Thanks."

The stars have are coming out. My eyes feel heavy, and my hooves throb slightly. My butt is getting sore from sitting in this gazebo for so long. With a quick thrash of my tail, my head tilts back, and I mindfully prod my own emotions. It's been exhausting so far, but it must only be a fraction of what Soarin' is going through. It's an unbelievable amount to process, but he's taken the first step. He's talked through it, maybe for the first time with anypony, and I won't let him falter now.

I've got your back, Soarin'.

After a breath, I say, "He gave you his hat. You said earlier that it happened on the worst day of your life."

"Heh. No question." He wipes his eyes again. "Braeburn left me. It wasn't because of some random heart attack or a stupid fight." Soarin' thumps a hoof to his chest. "He left me. I'd failed him. And yeah, we left on good terms or whatever, but it still dug into me. He left because of me."

That's not all, though, Soarin'. I clear my throat. "But you let him go." Soarin' looks at me. "More than that, even. You helped him leave."

Soarin' turns away and grunts, his ears flat against his head. "It isn't as n-noble as it seems."

I cock me head at him. "But it wasn't just a loss, either. Like you and Braeburn said, you grew from it. You're different than when you two met, and that's good, right?"

There's a short silence. He draws a quick breath, the kind that's always accompanies a teary eye. His voice cracks. "Yeah, but it still hurt."

Metaphor, maybe? "Yes, but remember the feeling of growing pains during puberty? You pushed through it and became stronger."

With a snort, Soarin' says, "Ha! Dude, that's just stupid cheesy." His tone is still heavy, even if he's trying to mask it.

Dammit. I shrug. "But it's true, right? It wasn't like after you'd gotten cut from the Wonderbolts."

His shoulders sag. "Heh. Kick a guy while he's down, why don't you."

"Well, it wasn't. You didn't storm off or trash the hotel room. You said yourself that you wanted to keep it together for Braeburn, and I saw the Sunday show. Even if it hurt, you didn't stay in your room crying forever. At some point, you must have stood up."

Soarin' sits up and looks into the distance. The sun is gone now, and the cool nighttime has begun to penetrate to just under my coat. He takes a breath. "Yeah. I did."

* * * * *

My lungs burned almost too much to breathe, and I turned back towards the bed. My heart pounded, and like an addict, I told myself I needed one more smell of the sheets, but I stopped with one foreleg in the air, then I set it down. I felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Supposedly, your brain's in charge of all your movements and everything you do, but I think you need your heart, too. I was paralyzed, staring at nothing, and I had to remind myself to breathe. The room was utterly still, and inside me was… nothing. For over ten minutes, I was as empty as the rest of the room, and I only finally moved because of the fear that was growing in my stomach. I looked around at everything that reminded me of him, and I said aloud, "I… shouldn't be alone right now."

And for once, I didn't have to be. Slowly, I took Braeburn's hat off my head, kissed the brim, and set it on the bed. I sniffled and trotted out of my room and two doors down. It felt… less mechanical than I thought it would have, and even though I still felt a hole in my chest, it filled up a little every time I thought about Braeburn being happy.

But I couldn't hold onto that thought for long without remembering that he was gone. My thoughts cycled on high-speed, and I nearly burned the rest of myself out in a matter of seconds.

I knocked on Streak's door and felt another whimper bubble up in me. Streak didn't answer, and after the obvious reason hit me, I rolled my wet, red eyes. "Dammit, Streak," I muttered through a sob. I moved over one room to try again. A few seconds after knocking, I heard utter silence on the opposite side of the door. I rested my forehead against it. "It's me, Spitz. Please open up."

I nearly fell forward when Spitfire opened the door. She didn't say anything until I looked up and saw her frowning. "Rough morning?" she asked gently. I nodded, and she opened it all the way. "Come on in."

I stepped inside. The room was warm and humid. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, but it was different from Braeburn and me. It was spicier, an unmistakable mix of my two co-captains.

The layout was the same as our– my room, with the same bed and the bizarrely large chair. Streak sat up, a strained grimace on his face as he covered his middle with a pillow. "Uh, hey, bro," he said uneasily with an awkward wave. "It, uh… happened?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Yes," I whispered, blinking a couple times.

His wings drooped at his sides. "Soarin', you can cry if you need to. It's okay." I hated that he felt bad for me, but I told myself that it was okay, that it was because he cared.

I shook my head. "Heh. Nah. I already got it all out o–" I choked. "O-out of m-my…" My legs shook, and I gasped. "Oh, fuck." It rose up and crashed into me like a wave. It started with a tingle in my hooves. My knees felt weak, and my backside dropped. I nearly puked. My throat felt dry and sealed shut. I wrenched my eyes closed, but they watered again. I gritted my teeth and gasped. "D-dammit!"

I felt Spitfire's wing on my back. She slowly guided me to the bed, where I hoisted myself up and sat between my friends, one foreleg around each of them. I buckled, sobbing into Streak's neck. Between ragged breaths, I kept saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." It was welling up from a deep part of me that I'd never felt before, and I wondered if it would ever run dry.

"Hey, it's alright, bro," Streak said. "Let it out. We're here. Shh…" He patted my back, and Spitfire gave me a reassuring squeeze of her wing.

"I love him so much. I love him so much!" I cried into Streak's neck some more. My bones felt like they'd gone soft. I went through everything all over again, replaying the Saturday show, our last date, and that morning, trying to deny it and then giving in and realizing it was real. It repeated over and over and over again.

But my family stuck with me. They supported me in every sense of the word for nearly an hour, listening to me talk about everything I loved about Braeburn and how much I wanted him to be happy and all my regrets and what that morning had been like. They listened to everything, until I was ready to sit up on my own. I felt insecure with them there, like I didn't deserve to have such supportive ponies in my life, and I still don't know what I did to deserve them as friends. Streak kept a hoof on mine while Spitfire kept her wing around me. Even if she felt a little tense, I appreciated it. I wiped my eyes and rasped, "Thanks, guys."

"Any time, Soarin'," Streak said. "Take it easy today."

A laugh rippled halfway up my chest and died in my throat. "Bro, I wouldn't even know how to relax right now."

He put a hoof on my shoulder. "Do what you need to do, Soarin'. I'll take care of the show, like we said. You can take the day off."

"I don't think he should," Spitfire said firmly, her tone just a shade more restrained than the one she took with new recruits. We turned to see her sitting up tall and with military precision. "I don't want you moping around all day. Wonderbolts don't let life get them down. It won't be good for you or the team, and I can't abide by that."

Fire Streak narrowed his eyebrows. "Spitfire, you seriously think he's good to fly?"

Spitfire glared back. "I know he has it in him to pull out one more show. Besides, it'll keep the media from asking questions. We don't want to have to deal with them, too."

I sighed. "She's right, Streak." I sat up halfway. "I need to be a fucking professional for once."

Streak softly said, "You sure? I… don't want this to turn into another…" He shuddered, a look of guilt flashing across his face. "I don't want to ignore the warning signs."

My heartbeat faltered, but I nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. I promise my head's okay, Streak." I turned to Spitfire. "Put me in, captain."

Spitfire held her head high and smiled. "That's what I like to hear. Now don't let me catch you doubting yourself again, Windsong."

I saluted. "You won't, captain."

"Good."

We all shared reassuring nods, but after a pause, Streak tensed and raised an eyebrow. "Did… I just get cut from the show?"

We worked it out like this: I would take the lead, like we'd originally scheduled. Streak would take part of Spitfire's set so that he wouldn't get completely cut out, and if anypony on the team questioned what was going on, well, we were captains. We didn't answer to them, and I promised myself I'd come clean with them that week.

But that wasn't the only problem. Once we'd figured out the routine, Streak said, "I don't want to sound insensitive, but we haven't really talked about it yet: how do we handle the fallout? Word's going to slip eventually."

Spitfire furrowed her brows. "You're right. It will. Honestly, I don't think there's much we can–"

I cut her off. "Hell no. I won't let them chase down Braeburn." I raised my hackles as rage boiled up through me. It was a welcome change of pace. "It would hurt him. I'm not letting it happen."

Fire Streak leaned back a bit. "There… hasn't been much heat on us lately. Do we think it might slip by them?"

Spitfire shook her head. "Sooner or later, they'll have a slow news day, and somepony will notice. I doubt Bottom Line will be feeling charitable when it happens, so we'll need a contingency plan." She looked at me. "Got any favors you can pull, Soarin'?"

I tapped my hoof, and my breathing was shallow. My eyebrows knit as I stared at the floor. "I… I don't know." My shoulders collapsed in a little. My mind spun through a list of options.

Fire Streak shrugged. "Maybe we could quietly announce it the next time somepony makes a big scene? Most of the Summer Sun performers would kill for some extra exposure, especially once the hype from the festival wears off."

Spitfire raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but scandals aren't really predictable. You can't actually count on celebrities to act the way you want."

It clicked, and I sneered.

Streak laughed a bit. "Right, or it wouldn't really be scandalous, would it? They don't– uh, bro? You okay?"

I groaned as my mind settled on the answer. "Sapph. Sapphire Shores."

After a pause, Spitfire rubbed her chin and looked up and to the side. "Mmm… Yeah, she seems unstable enough to make something happen sooner or later."

"No," I growled as I shook my head. My mind had solidified around an idea. "No. 'Sooner or later' isn't good enough. It needs to be right when the media figures out what happened to Braeburn, and I'm not going to chance it."

Streak understood what I meant, and he shuddered. "Ugh… Bro, please don't go crawling back to your ex."

I briefly looked up at him, the hot anger at the media overwhelming any sadness I was feeling. Or maybe it wasn't anger. Maybe instead it was the natural protectiveness I felt for Braeburn, a preemptive boost of confidence to scare off any doubts.

Spitfire sighed, "Soarin', even if you knew where she was staying, she's a civilian. It's not really appropriate to–"

But I was already flying out the door. Both of them yelled something after me, but I didn't care. 'It doesn't matter what she says. It's worth a shot.' It crossed my mind that my half-baked plan could backfire horribly and that Sapph could just as easily out us, but… well, I dunno. I think I just had more faith in her than that.

I didn't need to be told where Sapphire was staying. The Wonderbolts always give up the nice rooms when we perform alongside civilians. Heh. It's just courtesy, but sometimes, it works to our advantage.

The elevator to the rooftop suite was guarded, so in a huff, I flew to the center of the hotel and quickly spiraled down the staircase in one of the lanes they have marked specifically for flying pegasi. Without stopping, I soared through the lobby – I was too fast for anypony to snap a picture – and whipped around the building, smelling the city air and those glazed oranges in the vendor cart. The fresh air bolstered me as I rotated my wings back and flapped hard to get up to the Princess Suite at the very top of the building, faster than anypony could have been ready for.

Like I said before, Streak once told me that every good celebrity gets arrested sooner or later, and, well, I'd narrowly dodged it in Appleloosa when I'd been outside Braeburn's house. I figured it was worth pressing my luck.

"Sapph!" I screamed as I approached the giant balcony window, just before two security guards in black suits tackled me to the hard, marble tile of the balcony floor. To their credit, those guards were good. They had the wing cuffs on me in seconds, and I only got out a second "Sa–" before the other one had me muzzled. I squirmed and made their jobs as difficult as possible, hoping she'd heard me. I knew Sapph, I knew she knew my voice, and I knew she couldn't resist lording something over me. It was just a matter of whether she'd gone to bed after the show or stayed up all night partying.

And Sapphire Shores does not disappoint. "Oh, get off of him, colts," she shouted as the large, glass doors flew open. Sapph glowered and rubbed her eyes as she stumbled out into the morning light. She wore a blue silk robe that showed off her curves through the semi-transparent fabric. The smells of perfume and blueberry cosmopolitans spilled out into the air, heavier than the pollution of the city. "I wanna kick his ass off this balcony myself." The two guards shared a look, but Sapphire screamed, "You gonna make me repeat myself?!" Quickly, the guards leapt to their hooves and took positions on either side of the open doorway.

Sapphire was still sneering as she stumbled up and loomed over me. "This better be real good, Soarin'. You pulled me away from breakfast."

I glanced past her to see who "breakfast" was this time. A large, crimson earth pony stared back at me. His brown stubble, weathered mane, and large paunch looked completely out of place in the plush, gilded hotel room that he sat in. He was trying to hide under the covers, but I caught a glimpse of his cutie mark: a flashing camera. He was one of them. 'Figures,' I thought.

Sapph lightly kicked the muzzle. "I said sing, jailbird. Now!" Her lower lip was sticking out. My wings were fastened tightly in place, and I couldn't move my jaw to speak, but she didn't care. She liked this. Here I was, ready to beg her for something, and she held all the power. She could humiliate me or, if she wanted, probably get away with literal murder. I had more or less tried to break into her private room.

She knocked the other side of the muzzle. "I said talk! Unless you wanna end up playing 'Pass the Wonderbutt' in prison, hm?"

But I didn't struggle, and as I looked up at her, all I thought was, 'I don't care. I just have to protect Braeburn.'

I don't know what she saw for that split second, but suddenly, she stopped sneering. Sapph narrowed her eyes at me and then, after a beat, turned her head and raised an eyebrow. Jerking her head towards me, she muttered to her agents, "Oh, get those damn things off him. We're not animals."

The guards quickly swooped in and, like they'd done it a million times, had the restraints off of me in seconds. I coughed as they removed the muzzle, and as I stood up, I said, "Thanks, Sa–"

"The hell you doing, Soarin'?" Sapph jabbed me with a hoof, forcing me back a step and against the railing of the balcony. "What, that cow fucker finally get sick of you? 'Cuz you're not getting any from me!"

I looked down at the floor. "Not… quite."

"Well, then what? I don't have all day, Soarin'." She blinked hard and shook her head. "I'm starting to sober up, and you won't like me when I'm sober."

"We, uh…" I swallowed the lump in my throat. I knew what I was supposed to do, but the first couple times I tried, nothing came out. I looked down at the floor and crossed one foreleg in front of the other. It was such a simple sentence, but I was barely able to mumble, "We… broke up."

When I looked up, Sapph's fierceness had collapsed into quizzical evaluation. "Hmph." Her mane was frazzled, and even though she'd become more stable, she still winced at the sunlight. She was at least hungover, and she leaned on the side of the door. Her voice softened. "So what? You get bored with ponies all the time, and then you ditch 'em. It's your style. I don't get why this is such a big deal or, more importantly, what any of it has to do with me."

My heart felt heavy, and I sat down. A couple tears welled up, but I held it together. "It's not like that, Sapph. We… we broke it off. Together." I looked at her again, but she didn't say anything, and I realized that I was actually talking about it again. It seemed so impossible to admit what had happened, but once I had, I kept going. "We tried to make it work. Sapph, we tried, probably more than we should have, but he wasn't happy here. I didn't want him to leave, and I know he didn't want to, either, but…" Already, it felt like I was running around a well-worn racetrack. "We kind of agreed it was for the best. I love him too much to keep him here."

She didn't move. "Now how's that work?"

I quickly turned my head away. "I don't know! We thought we–"

"You had him, and you actually liked him enough to keep around, and then you just let him go?" She rolled her head around and mumbled, "Ponies think I'm crazy."

"Sapph, I–" I sucked in a big breath and let it out quickly. My eyes kept darting away, and I had to remind myself to focus on her. I forced myself to speak slowly. "Sapph, I don't want him to suffer. He's a good stallion." I choked up a bit. "He's good. Really… really good. He deserves to be happy, even if it isn't with me." I looked at her and blinked a couple tears away.

Her eyes had softened, and she leaned more solidly against the doorframe. She sighed and shook her head. "That little cow fucker really broke your heart, didn't he?"

"He's not a–" I chuckled, and thought, 'I mean, it'd be one lucky cow.' I pushed that image out of my mind and made eye contact again. "Yeah, he did, and he'll be happier this way. That's what matters."

There was a long pause. A cool, stiff breeze whipped my tail to the side, and I could feel Sapph's gaze on me. It was the kind of situation that would normally make me nervous, but… I guess, I didn't have anything else to hide. There was a lot of relief in being honest about everything and not having to anticipate another big crash, and I think she felt it, too.

"Huh." Sapphire paused, then slowly nodded. "So you finally decided to look past your own nose. Good for you." She took a moment to look out at the horizon, then her gaze settled back on me. "Aw, come inside before you get pneumonia." Her guards tensed, but she said, "And you two calm down before I make you kiss again." The guards looked at each other, blushed, and let me pass. One of them was trying not to smile.

I followed Sapph into her suite. It was as bright and decadent as any I'd ever seen, and that earth pony was still sitting awkwardly on the bed. Sapphire waved a hoof at him. "Shoo! We need that bed." The stallion quickly hopped off and practically galloped over to a pile of belongings: a saddle bag, some camera equipment, and a tripod. When he started picking them up, though, Sapphire shouted, "I didn't say leave!"

The earth pony froze in place. His voice was raspy and low. "Uh… I don't…"

"Just sit there, keep your mouth shut, and look pretty. I'll get back to you in a minute." Sapphire lay down on the bed and patted a spot next to her. I joined her. "Hooves to yourself, Soarin'. I'm not really feeling any group fun right now."

I stretched out my wings, trying to make myself look even the slightest bit comfortable. My voice came out low. "That's okay. I don't think I'd be up for it."

Sapph threw her head back. "Ha! Then he must've gotten you bad."

I shrugged, started remembering the good times, and smiled to myself. "Yeah, he–"

She held up a hoof. "Soarin', you don't actually think I care about all the romantic details, do you?"

I chuckled softly. "Heh. Nah. Sorry."

"Aw, you're good." Nestling into her spot like a bird, she continued, "But why the hell are you coming to me? If the tabloids have gotten anything right, you seem to have patched things up with the Wonderbolts, unless that's all a show, too."

"Nah, it's real. Streak and Spitfire are great, and everything's going pretty well with the team."

She leaned forward. "Oh, hey! Are they really dating?"

I grimaced. "I… can't say."

"Oooh, that's a YES!" she sang out, slapping the bed. "Wonder if those media idiots have figured it out yet." She turned to her stallion toy. "No offense. It's just that all of you are scum."

His eyes darted from side to side. "Uh… none taken?"

"Good colt." She narrowed her eyes and cooed, "And unless you've always dreamed of being a gelding, I wouldn't recommend spilling any of this to whatever rag it is you work for." She turned back to me and primped her mane. "So you two split. Now what?"

I cast a glance at the crimson pony. His eyes were wide, his legs were crossed, and he wasn't breathing. Despite who he worked for, I couldn't help but feel empathy for somepony who was seeing Sapph. 'I feel you, bro.' With another shrug, I said, "Well, he goes back home. And that's what I'm afraid of. It's going to follow him, and–"

"Hold that thought." She turned back to the crimson stallion. "Dammit, Hot Flash, chill the fuck out! I wouldn't do anything to wreck that fine body of yours." Hot Flash started to release a breath. "I'd do a hell of a lot worse, got it?" The stallion nodded, eyes wide. "Good." She clicked her tongue. "Leeches, all of 'em. I saw the nonsense they put you two through. Good drama, but disgusting all the same. Honestly, I'm surprised you were able to keep it up for as long as you did. Running from the media, trying to keep the spotlight away from him… That was all you, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "Braeburn just wants to live in peace. He doesn't want his town overrun with paparazzi. And… that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Sapph, I–"

"Ugh, I'm hungry." She looked all around.

I stifled a grunt and bit the inside of my cheek. 'Keep cool, Stormcloud. You knew what you were getting into.'

Sapph waved over a security guard, who peeked his head in. She shouted, "Hey! Make yourself useful and see what's taking breakfast so long."

"Yes, ma'am!" the guard responded. With a salute, he took off and dove down towards the base of the hotel.

I jerked my head at Hot Flash. He was doing his best to look bored, but both his ears were swiveled towards us. "I thought he was breakfast?"

"Soarin', a mare's gotta eat." She stretched her forelegs, and her robe slipped off her backside, giving the guard on the balcony an eyeful. "Now, you were about to beg me to save your coltfriend from his own fame."

I didn't bother hiding it. "Please, Sapph. Please. Equestria loves you. If anypony can take the heat off of him, it's you."

"Soarin', as much as I…" She casually rubbed the bed in front of her. Through gritted teeth, she growled, "…adore-ah seeing somepony else on the front pages…" She cleared her throat, "You're right that Equestria loves a diva. But wouldn't it be more fun to make a game of it?" She flicked a hoof towards Hot Flash. "I bet we could get Hot Flash to play. Right, sexy?"

He sat up nervously. "Uh, sure! Yeah!" A smile slowly spread across his face. "I've, uh… I haven't ever been with… you know."

Sapph batted her eyebrows at me. "I promise it'd be fun. I know you like gruff guys like that, you…" She belted out a line from one of her songs. "…floozy queen-ah!"

I frowned but laughed half-heartedly. "Sapph, I appreciate it, but I don't want any games. This isn't about me."

Sapph blew some air from her lips and rolled onto her back. Her robe fell away, revealing everything. "Aw, c'mon. I've missed you, baby. Why can't you throw me a bone?"

Admittedly, my heart skipped a beat, but I didn't want her. "Sapph, you're the hottest mare in Equestria, but I'm absolutely wrecked right now. Like, tequila wrecked." I shook my head. "Sorry. Braeburn's the only thing on my mind right now."

She whapped my hoof, and her expression flattened as she let out a long sigh. "You know, you were more fun back when we were dating."

"Yeah, I've gone soft. But Braeburn…" I closed my eyes and pictured him bucking apples and sweating and smiling back in Appleloosa. For just a moment, I could swear I smelled him. "He was worth it. I wouldn't trade what we had for all the parties in Manehattan."

The corners of her eyes drooped. "You really liked him, didn't you?"

I let myself look inside my heart, unafraid of what I'd find. "Heh. It's worse than that. I'll never stop loving him, Sapph. He's…" I put a hoof to my chest. "There won't ever be anypony like him."

"Hm," she grunted. For a moment, she stayed there, exposed and looking at me upside down. Her expression was frozen as she stared right through me. "He got you good, Soarin'. You're really lucky, you know that?"

I smiled, and my chest felt warm. "Yeah. I do."

There was a brief pause, and after she spent a few seconds running her tongue across her teeth and humming to herself, Sapph said, "Yeah." She rolled back onto her belly and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, okay. I got you."

I snapped up. "Really?" I blinked a few times and shook my head. "Sapph, that's amazing! Thanks! I owe you."

"Damn right you do, and I'll collect on that someday." She stretched out and quickly tied her robe back on. "It'll be nice being the center of attention again, though. I'm sick of all this lovely dovey crap in the headlines."

My heart welled up. "This means a lot to me, Sapph." I felt something pull me forward. "Especially after everything else. Thank you. Thank you!" I couldn't remember the last time I'd thought of her as a friend. "Can I… give you a hu–"

"Hell, no."

I shrugged. "Eh, fair enough." I looked out the window. "Do you know what you're gonna do, though? It probably doesn't need to drop until the media finds out that Braeburn… left."

"Ha! Soarin', what do you take me for? I can be the biggest bitch this side of Canterlot if I want to be." She tossed her mane, and it landed messily at the side of her head. "It's fine. I know how this game works. I'll think of someth–"

There was a knock-knock at the door, which made Hot Flash jump. Sapphire motioned for him to open it, and he obeyed. A bellhop wheeled in a cart holding a giant golden plate with an artfully arranged pile of fragrant peaches, bananas, toasted nuts, and strawberries, all crowded around a massive golden chalice. It was big enough to fit a small pony inside, and it was filled with an absolute mountain of cardamom-scented whipped cream. The bellhop meekly said, "Ms. Shores? Breakfast is served."

There was a beat, and I swear I could feel the heat start radiating from Sapph. As I slowly turned my head to face her, I saw that she wore a terrifyingly wicked grin. "Oh, I bet I can think of something real good. And if you're sure you don't want to be involved…" I shook my head. "Ha! Yeah, I know. But don't worry, I've got this." She dragged herself over to the edge of the bed, dug a heavy-looking bag of bits from the bedside table, and tossed it to the bellhop. "You didn't see anything, got it?"

The bellhop's eyes were wide as he hefted the bag in his hooves. "No, Ms. Shores! T-thank you, Ms. Shores!" He quickly turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Hot Flash looked back at us. "Uh… Should I leave, too?"

"Oh, honey," Sapph lilted. She clicked her tongue three times and slowly shook her head, the front half of her body hanging off the edge of the bed. "Oh, poor, innocent baby. Naw, I've got big plans for us." Sapph faced me. "I'm feeling inspired, Soarin', and I think you'd better head out before I decide to get you involved, too." I knew better than to wait, and as I quickly stood up to leave, she said, "Take care of yourself, Soarin'."

I paused and smiled. "You, too, Sapph. And thanks."

The guards opened the doors for me, and I left without another word. Looking over my shoulder, I watched Sapph sashay up to a wide-eyed Hot Flash. She dipped her hoof into the cream and gave it a lick. In a lusty voice, she purred, "Grab that camera of yours, you sexy, sexy stallion." As the doors closed behind me, she gestured in a wide arc and sang, "And get ready – you're about to be FAAAAAAAMOUS-AH!"

They called it the "Whipped Cream Incident" – a series of erotic photographs that mysteriously leaked to a few publications seemingly out of nowhere, only a day after I broke my legs. Photos appeared all over the tabloids of Sapph in compromising positions, covered in whipped cream and fruit. She did everything in those photos, and as more were released to hold onto the media's attention, they got even racier. Some of them even had Hot Flash in them. She played it off masterfully, too. There was this whole storyline she played up about dating him, and for the most part, it worked. It kept the heat off the Wonderbolts and, more importantly, Braeburn.

But… that wasn't until later. It would be three weeks before she'd have to release them.

I flew back down to the ground, then inside the hotel and up to my room, my body feeling light and heavy at the same time. I immediately started crying again when I walked inside and saw that housekeeping had changed the sheets. Braeburn's hat was sitting neatly on the center of the bed, waiting for me, but there wouldn't be any last smells. I needed to collapse all over again, and when I did so back in Spitfire's room, my family was there to catch me.

But I flew in the show that day. It wasn't nearly as perfect as Saturday's had been, but I did it. And besides me and Spitfire and Streak, nopony realized that Braeburn was… gone. But I felt his absence. I felt it strongly enough for everypony in Equestria, but in order to protect him, and to keep myself sane, I couldn't just wallow in self-pity. I couldn't just shut down like I had every other time in my life when somepony had abandoned me. No, I had to pick myself up and move on.

It was time to keep flying.

* * * * *

Soarin' sighs into the cool night air. "And, well, you said you saw the show. How'd I do?"

I blink a few times. "You, uh…" I try to think back to the show. It was several months ago by now. "Honestly, I remember you performing very well, and I didn't notice anything off. I think that's probably the best you could hope for."

He smiles smugly. "Heh. Yeah. We're professionals."

I nod. "Absolutely. Streak did a fantastic job, too, I'm sure, but it's a bit hazy by this point. It must have been nice having both of them in the show with you."

"Oh, yeah. Totally. They made sure I was okay before and after the show, too. Spitfire even invited me to her parents' place for the Summer Sun holiday." Soarin's nose scrunches up. "It was a liiiiittle weird, since it was kinda sorta supposed to be all about her bringing Streak home for the first time, but I think Streak liked having me there. Less pressure."

He's… starting to fly through details. Does that mean… "We're not wrapping up, are we?"

Soarin' shrugs and yawns. "It's getting pretty late."

A cold panic grips the back of my neck. We can't be done yet. "There's still more to the story, though, right?"

"Heh. It's cool, dude. I'm just trying to be polite." He stretches out, and it appears his body is uncomfortable in all the same places as mine. As he adjusts his leg braces, he mumbles with a full mouth, "I don't know what kind of schedule you're on. Do you need to catch a balloon ride back down to the ground or anything?"

I shake my head. "I was planning on grabbing a hotel room. It's okay, though. I'd like to hear the rest, if you don't mind."

"Nah, I don't mind," he says as he finishes strapping himself into his braces. "I think." He raises an eyebrow.

That look means something. "What?"

He smiles. "Yeah, you're cool. And you're pretty good at hugs, too. This'll be fun."

What?

He stands up and stretches out his back. "Wanna stay for dinner?" Something seems– "We can take the long way back, and I can probably finish by then."

Just roll with it.

I shake out my mane and stand up. "That sounds lovely. I'd like to finish the story tonight, and…" For a second, I allow myself to stare at his legs. "I still need to hear about the accident."

Soarin' rolls his eyes and pats the hat down onto his head. "Heh. C'mon, Syn. You're smarter than that." He trots past me, back towards home, but something is wrong. My chest locks up as he says, "It wasn't an accident."