Equestria Girls, Slice of Life, Romance, Sunset Shimmer, Flash Sentry
I have mixed feelings about him.
On the one hand, Flash Sentry is kind of a dork. He’s awkward, clumsy, lets other students go in front of him in the lunch line, picks up fallen books for his friends. He follows rules to the letter and never stands up to authority. Heck, he never stands up to anyone who gives him a hard time.
Take Gilda for instance. Just last week, she cornered Flash in that abandoned unlit hallway and demanded something of him. I was observing them from a distance and couldn’t properly hear them, but I could tell she was getting aggressive. And instead of standing tall, Flash just looked down and gave a meek nod.
He’s a doormat. And I can’t stand doormats.
But on the other hoof…
He plays the guitar. He’s in a band. He drives a cool car. He’s attractive, with his strong built, ruffled hair, sculpted muscles and silky voice. But more than that, he’s attentive. When we have conversations at lunch, he listens. As in really listens. I can count on him to always vent my frustrations towards, I can count on him to always be there in times of need, I can count on help me figure this world out.
Flash has been my one constant since I stepped foot in this dimension. He introduced me to human technology, the mobile phone and the magical phenomenon known as the Internet. The first time I went to his place, we played video games. Flash said it was hilarious watching me struggling with the controller. (I didn’t think it was funny.) But he still sat with me and went through the mechanics one step at a time. If I ask him, Flash will make time to teach me a new skill.
Like today.
I’m waiting for him in the music room. Classes have ended and, aside from the few students in after-school clubs and detentions, the hallways are quiet. I’m sitting on the piano, my eyes scanning the room. It’s small but it’s enough for a band of, say, six members.
Music has never really been my thing. [Insert reason for Sunset to learn music.]
Flash Sentry arrives five minutes later, his guitar case in hand. “Hi,” he says.
I smile at him. It’s not just the cocky smirk or malicious grin I usually sport. With Flash, I can let my walls down. I allow myself just a tiny amount of self-expression. “Hey.” I drop the smile. “So, what’d you ask me here for?”
Flash enters the room proper, sets down his case and pops it open. “You know how you’re having trouble with your fingers?”
He doesn’t know where I come from. I haven’t told him. As far as he’s concerned, I just have really shaky hands. It’s the perfect lie; explains my horrible handwriting, troubles using a smartphone and difficulties with video games. Flash didn’t judge me and I appreciate it.
“Yeah. What about it?”
He takes his guitar out and slings it on his neck. “I figured since you enjoyed our video game lesson the other day, why not do another activity to help control your fingers?” As if to demonstrate, he plays a few chords.
“Guitar’s your answer?” I ask.
He nods and gestures around the room. “Pick one.”
I looked around the room. CHS may be a public school, but it values its extracurriculars. Ergo, there isn’t a lack of guitar types lining the walls. I don’t know any of their names, but I settle for one vaguely resembling Flash’s. It’s teal green and has the shape of an inverted V.
I sling the strap around my neck and walk to where Flash has made himself comfortable on the steps.