Early Fall in previous years at Canterlot High had been rather miserable. It had been less than a year since Sunset Shimmer had turned her personality on her heels, and still not everyone had forgiven her trespasses. Almost exactly a year ago, she had been making everyone’s lives miserable, blackmailing teachers and students alike, and generally being the kind of supervillain she would now go out of her way to defeat and reform. All of the previous school years had seen the weeks leading up to the Fall Formal as a generally miserable affair, with only a slight bit of relief from the tension last year, as the students of CHS had, at that time, decided to rally behind and put their hopes in Twilight Sparkle.
This year, though, was different. It was going to BE different. Sunset wasn’t going to allow her past to ruin her future anymore. So when she saw posters for the Fall Formal planning committee go up, she was the first to drop her name in the hat for chairman. She wanted, no, needed this chance at redemption. A way to truly prove she’d put her mean streak behind her, by putting everyone else’s wants and needs about the Formal first. She’d listen to every suggestion, plan meticulously, and do whatever it takes to make sure everyone had a good time.
At least, that was the plan. “Everything alright, Sunset?” a familiar voice asked. Sunset raised her head from the cafeteria table to which she had grown kind of attached, a dour expression clouding her features. Seeing the owner of the voice, Twilight Sparkle, approach the table with the rest of the Rainbooms, she scooted over to allow room for everyone to sit down.
“I don’t know, Twilight. I mean, I know some people are never going to fully forgive me for being such a horrible person to them in the past, but is it too much to ask for the opportunity to apologize?” Sunset groaned, resisting the urge to drop her forehead on the table again. Seeing the confused and concerned expressions aimed her way, she elaborated, “I’m running for Chairman of the Fall Formal planning committee.”
She paused as her friends flinched openly at the statement. She expected it was a mix of two rather potent emotions: sympathy for the situation she was putting herself in, and disgust at the position of Chairman. Nobody wanted to be chairman. It was a thankless, grueling job, where you did nothing but listen to privileged teenagers and out-of-touch teachers about what they think the formal should be. You basically gave away two weeks of your free time to do thankless work for minimal reward. She saw it as the perfect penance for her transgressions.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, my dear?” Rarity asked. She settled her tray down gently, still considering her friend with trepidation. “I mean, no offense, but you don’t exactly have a great track record with the Formal. Not to mention how awful that job is. Are you sure you don’t want to just… sit this one out?”
Sunset shook her head firmly. “No. I need to do this, Rarity. That whole thing with Wallflower last year taught me that there’s still a whole bunch of people at this school that haven’t forgiven me. I need to show them that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove I’m not the horrible person that ruined their lives before I had to get literally shot out of the air by rainbow lasers just to learn my lesson. If I can pull this off, make this a Fall Formal people actually want to go to, and have fun at, with no crazy magic or evil monster girls trying to terrorize the students...” she trailed off, deep in thought. Her friends considered her thoughtfully as they waited for her to finish. “If I can do that, on my own time, of my own volition, with no one pushing me, maybe the rest of them will finally see that I am, truly, sorry.”
Applejack nodded her approval, taking a healthy bite out of her sandwich. With a loud swallow, she said, “Well, I think it’s mighty admirable, Sunset. Goodness knows I wouldn’t want to do that job all by mahself.”
Shimmer rolled her eyes. “That’s the thing. Apparently, Miss Harshwhinny has decided I don’t get to be the Fall Formal Chairman all by myself. She wants me to work with one of the members of the Student Council.”
“So what’s the big deal?” Rainbow asked. “It’s not like our Student Council is like one of those weird anime groups where they all have, like, super powers, and an agenda to rule the world or something. Heck, our Student Council President is Moondancer. Freakin’ Moondancer. The only person on campus who could possibly give Twilight a run for her nerd money. What’s so wrong about working with her?”
A groan escaped Sunset’s throat as she threw her head back against the booth. “I wish it was Moondancer.”
Fluttershy leaned forward slightly, the movement catching Sunset’s eye. “Well,” the quiet girl started, “Isn’t the Vice-President on the soccer team? Fleet Foot? She seemed… nice.” ‘Shy added with a small smile.
“Yeah, she’s great,” Sunset agreed. “But she’s busy training for the big game the same weekend against Crystal Prep.”
Rainbow nodded furiously. “Yeah, and we’re gonna kick their asses this year!” She made eye contact with Sunset, who wore an expression that said, rather loudly, ‘Not the time’. Rainbow coughed. “Ok, yeah. So she’s busy. That leaves, what. The Treasurer and Secretary? Octavia and Sunflower are like, the two nicest people in school. Besides, you know, us,” she added with a self-congratulating smirk. “So what’s the deal?”
Sunset thought about that answer, and took a deep breath. “You guys are forgetting someone. We also have a Sergeant at Arms,” she drolled.
Pinkie tilted her head. “What’s that?”
Twilight was quick to answer. “They’re responsible for keeping order during meetings, collecting ballots, delivering fliers, and general gruntwork. It’s not exactly a thankful job. Hell, Sunset, if you wanted to apologize to the whole school, you could just have applied for that position.”
“And therein lies the problem, Twilight,” grumbled Shimmer. “Someone already has that job and he’s-”
“SUPER awful excited to be working with you, new best buddy!” said a grating, slightly effeminate male voice from over her shoulder.
The group looked up as one at the newcomer, and most of them cringed almost painfully. Standing just over Sunset’s shoulder was a boy of about sixteen, with rather long, brown hair, a ruffled button-down blue shirt and jeans, and skin in patches of brown and white. He smiled widely, amicably, but had enough sense to stand just outside of arm’s reach of his new ‘friend’.
Sunset didn’t even turn all the way around. She just tilted her head till she could see enough of the guy to address him properly. “Hello, Schadenfreude.”