//------------------------------// // I, Photo Finish // Story: Bombshells // by 007Delta //------------------------------// It was a rare occasion for a Wonderbolt to show up in Ponyville. For that matter, it was a rare occasion for anyone of higher notoriety to find themselves in the quaint town, especially with Canterlot situated only a few hours away. Ponyville was a mere village compared to the mountainside metropolis, and everypony who was anypony flocked to that alpestrine ode to architecture. Despite being Equestria's political figurehead, it had an infamous reputation for higher society. Higher society meant money, and with more money came more celebrities. With the steady influx of recognizable names and the flourishing local economy, it didn't take long before Canterlot appealed to both the Equestrian noble and the common pony alike. Everyone knew there was capital at the capitol. Celebrities like myself, have flocked to this magical town of money and prestige like pampered moths to an engulfing inferno, drawn in by the countless opportunities for fame, money, and attention. It was a place of happiness and glamour, lived by few and loved by all. I hated it immediately. The life of a celebrity is one without privacy, but most ponies know that. One cursory glance at a magazine stand will tell you more about me and my team than I could. Every single action you take is either documented, listened upon, or photographed, if not all of the above. But the worst thing about having a merciless public eye looking down on you at every moment of every day is not what the people say about you... It's what it makes you say about yourself. Fame has shaped the very pony I am today, and will continue to mold me into someone different every time the press has something to say about me. It is for this reason alone, that I have taken refuge in Ponyville. And it is here I find myself, quietly tucked away in a bland café somewhere in the heart of town, enjoying my fourth hayseed mocha. I loved coffee, but wasn't allowed to drink any when I was with the Wonderbolts, because it apparently, "makes your flying shaky," and Spitfire didn't take too kindly when she caught me sneaking a cup here and there. In fact, I can't imagine what's going through her head right now. You see, I was supposed to be with my team over at Canterlot, doing a private flying show for a rich business pony who paid top dollar to have us at his mansion, but instead I decided to... Disappear for a while. I read about the fallout in the paper the next day. Spitfire had been interviewed about the issue, and from the dialogue that I read, I could tell she was furious. So I decided to lay low in Ponyville for a couple days, waiting for the public interest in our little "issue" to die down. It was all going so well. I had avoided recognition for nearly a week by going under a false name, dying my hair and slightly changing my voice. My Cutie Mark was never much of an issue; It was often altered and covered up completely, so wearing my real one didn't attract any unwanted attention. Hey, do you know what's funny? I've been talking about my inescapable fame for the last several minutes, yet you haven't the slightest inkling as to who I am. I'll give you a little hint. I'm not Spitfire, and I'm not Soarin. Some of you may have been able to fill in the blank, but if weren't, don't worry. In a loud, German accent, a blue fashion photographer could be heard on the other side of the window as she stared at me in shock. "Fleetfoot?" I should have played it cool. If I simply looked at her in confusion, or just pretended like I didn't notice, she would have walked away. But I froze, guilt and surprise laid upon my face for her to read as plain as text. "Zat is you!" she exclaimed. "I must photograph zis!" suddenly, there was a camera in her hoof. With a small cluster of white flashes, she had three copies of my guilty mug printing out of the other end of her camera. The blue mare began to gallop away, screaming something in a language I didn't understand. Her pale blue figure was getting smaller and smaller as I stared in dumbstruck horror. I tore out of the coffee shop and spread my wings wide, before a thought occurred in my mind. If I flew after her, I would be easily recognized by everypony who witnessed me. I was part of an aerobatic group after all. I folded my wings against my body and darted after Photo Finish, gritting my teeth as I chased by hoof. I had only met that eccentric mare during a few photo shoots for our flying suits a couple months back. She hailed from Germaney, and made her living as a premier photographer for fashion magazines and other media. She could easily take the photos and sell them to the press, and if those photos reached the news, Spitfire would come hunting for me like a wild animal. As I chased the overdressed mare, I had my mouth agape in wonder. The pony in front of me wore a long, black and white dress, purple sunglasses, and a few other accessories which were ill suited for running, yet the photographer was zooming down the street like a posh, Steuropean bullet. Never in my life would I have guessed that she could run that fast. Suddenly, she turned the corner sharply, her hooves digging into the ground before pushing off and heading down another street. "j'utilise mon fabuleux Parkour!" she screamed as her white tail disappeared from sight. I recognized one of those words, but in my rush, I couldn't remember which. I picked up the pace, using my wings to turn myself more precisely, before an avalanche of leafy green spheres came crashing upon me. I managed to avoid most of the errant orbs, but the sudden occurrence had distracted me from my target. I looked down the street, desperately searching for the blue paparazzi in the long, crowded streets, while doing my best to ignore a panicking vegetable vendor as he stood speechlessly over his slain produce. "MY CABBAGES!" he screamed in shock, That's when I caught sight of her jumping gracefully from the roof. She arched high in the air, before landing on a flat topped building, rolling upon her landing, the camera still tightly clutched in between her teeth. Then I remembered. Parkour. Parkour. That crazy sport they did in Steurope where people, (typically earth ponies,) would jump off of buildings and run around the city like it was a jungle gym. She had used the cabbage cart to push herself off and climb up to the rooftops. Though I was indescribably angry at that prying little paparazzi, I must confess, she was quite the athlete. I jumped, slamming my wings to my sides in one strong blast of air. I propelled to the rooftops and landed on all fours. Suddenly, I heard some curious chatter coming from behind me, and immediately I knew what they were talking about. It was very uncommon for a Pegasus to climb that high with a single wing beat, and I cursed myself for being so absentminded. "No fancy flying!" I told myself, before chasing the photographer, who was a few houses away. She may have been skilled, but I had training on my side. She couldn't avoid me for much longer. I began to gallop, picking up as much speed as I could before making a large jump. I leapt over to the neighboring house, sailing through the air and landing smoothly, before continuing my run and hopping to another. Photo Finish was now a mere house away, and I could see her panting as she looked back. I pushed myself even harder, making an especially large leap while spreading my wings and gliding directly toward the photographer. Photo Finish barely had enough time to look back around before I was on top of her. "Pictures, now!" I demanded quietly, but menacingly. The blue mare underneath me squirmed and wriggled furiously, but I held her in place. "Ich werde deine Fettpölsterchen abgeschnitten!" yelled the mare beneath me. "In English!" I said crossly. "Get off me!" she yelled. "Zese pictures are mine! I, Photo Finish, took zem fair and sqvare!" she complained loudly. As I tried to commandeer her camera, I could see a few of the local Pegasi flying up to get a better look. Our little discussion was drawing attention, and if I wanted to come out of this anonymous, I was going to have to approach this differently. "Okay, look," I said, climbing off the foreign mare. "Let's talk this over really qu-" That's all I was able to get out before she bucked me in the stomach and leapt off the roof. I reeled back in pain, catching a small glimpse of the blue figure diving off of the edge. She spread her front legs wide and performed a slow front flip, before landing back first in a wagon full of hay. She leapt out quickly, before continuing her gallop down the street. I let out a low frustrated yell as I continued the pursuit. I could hear Photo Finish's voice as she galloped like a madpony. "dummes Pferd! ich laufe schneller als Gummibärchen aus Fett Kind!" she yelled over her shoulder. I glided gently to the ground, taking special care not to draw any attention to my flying, before I charged after Photo Finish once again. There was a small group of ponies watching us as the pursuit transpired. Sweat dripped from my forehead as I forced every muscle in my body to move faster. I had to catch that mare and destroy those photos, and possibly the camera as well. I could see Photo Finish begin to wear down, the physical toll she had taken on her body was beginning to slow her down, whereas I had four caffeine saturated mochas to fuel my body. I could feel them taking effect. My heart rate began to quicken, my eyes narrowed, and my body felt as if it were cooling down. I was nearly upon Photo, just a mere hoofs reach away, before she stuck her leg out and grabbed hold of a lamppost. Physics did the rest. She swung around it like an exotic dancer, before she jumped off and flew over my head. I ducked out of reflex, throwing my head down just in time for her to whip by and land in another elegant roll. There was a now a large crowd of ponies following us, and they stopped and gathered around us as if we were some sort of show. Photo Finish looked around, and her eyes lit up with an idea. "Stop right zere!" she exclaimed, holding her hoof out toward me. I began to walk toward her, irritation in my eyes and caffeine fueled anger in my blood. Photo Finish continued to hold her hoof out. "Stop right zere or I tell everypony who you are!" suddenly my pupils narrowed with surprise, and a sly smile stretched across Photo Finsh's lips. "Zat's right, stay right zere or everypony here vill know your secret!" there were a few noises of excitement coming from the crowd. Dammit. She had me by the wings. "Okay, I'm stopping," I said nervously. She lifted her head and whistled loudly, the three Polaroids falling gently to the ground as she did so. I was half tempted to simply dart after them there. I was fast enough to do it before she could stop me, but then that little snoop could just tell everyone who I was: Defeating the purpose in the first place. Suddenly, a group of classy looking ponies ran up to Photo Finish, bowed their heads, and awaited orders. "Take zees photographs and run zem to the three biggest magazines you can find!" directed a winded Photo Finish. The servants bowed their head a second time before trotting off, their hooves in perfect sync with each other. I was crestfallen. I was enjoying such a peaceful afternoon, until this little blue mare came and ruined it all. My ears flattened against my head as I scowled at Photo Finish, who only returned my gaze through her opaque purple sunglasses. I wanted to hit her. I wanted to hit her badly. But what would that accomplish? I would only end up with another ugly article after this one. I could see the headlines now. "Wonderbolt abandons team and assaults fashion photographer". As I thought about my misfortunes, Photo Finish looked at me, her mouth opened slightly as she thought. Suddenly she called to the servants. "Vait just a second! Don't send the photos just yet, hold on to dem for now," Photo Finish stared at me as she spoke. "Perhaps I, Photo Finish, vas a little harsh." She raised her head high in the air. "I must retire to my chamber to think. I vill send for you in one hour." She tilted her head high in the air. "I go!" She exclaimed, before walking off with her servants. They moved in perfect unison, Photo Finish in the center and the three servants on either side of her My mind was an absolute mess after that. What... What just happened? Photo Finish had me by the skin of my teeth, took pity on me, and left. And she was going to send for me in an hour... For what? Just thinking about that mare confuses me. I snapped out of my daydream just in time to look around. Immediately, I noticed that the crowd was still there. Just staring at me, as if it was waiting for me to entertain it. "Uh," I said weirdly, causing a small laugh to ripple through the audience. I smiled awkwardly as I walked away from them, their eyes following me as I left. No matter how famous I get, I will never get used to the attention. Well, I had an hour to kill before I was... Sent for. The way that I saw it, I didn't really have a choice. She still had those pictures, and if I didn't show up she might just release them anyway. I sighed deeply. I came to Ponyville because it was small and quaint, and instead, I just get more attention. However, there was one thing that didn't add up. Photo Finish was infamous for her merciless attitude. Why would she give me a chance, instead of just running off with the pictures? Suddenly, my face contorted with a mixture of realization and stupidity. She did just run off with the pictures! Dear sweet Celestia, I hope Photo Finish is a mare of her word, otherwise, I may have to disappear from Ponyville as well. And this is why I hate being famous.