//------------------------------//
// Introduction 
// Story: Childhood Sweethearts 
// by Ribe_FireRain 
//------------------------------//

Alone in your room, you sat in front of your mirror, gently applying some hair gel to your mane to create your signature, pulled back look. 
With ease you pulled back the sleek strands of your two tone blue and lighter blue mane with your hooves back and after a short moment of getting your mane the way you liked it, you looked into the mirror with a smile as white as your coat.

Blue eyes looked back at you, full of ambition and life. 

Through the window to your left you could hear the usual noise of busy streets and ponies - typical for any pony to hear when they live in a city such as Manehatten. 

Your room wasn't that much in the way of been tidy, with small amounts of clothing piled in some areas across the floor in random areas and various racing memorabilia sat around, too. However, among the mess was something that you always held close to your heart. 

Your scooter.

It may have been fairly clean and rust-free at some point in it's life but despite all of that, it still worked with little difficulty. The handlebars were slightly scuffed and the black rubber that made them was pulled out in some areas. The paint on both the once dark blue body and water-blue wheels has peeled in some places but was still identifiable of once being that colour.

Just on the edge of the scratched and ageing body of the toy was your name, the only newest addition to it since the day you got it - Cerulean Blaze. Laying beside your scooter was a helmet, also with it's own marks of age and abuse. It too was blue, matching the darker colour of your mane with scratches and scuffs covering it from top to bottom. 

Even a part or two of your name written on the sides in white were scratched out.

Certainly, many happy memories in your life came after the day of your first ride on your scooter, every scratch and fun moment forever transplanted into your memory and every single scratch. Reaching for your helmet, you picked it up in your hooves, feeling the heavy weight of the item.

A smile formed on your lips and you were about to put it on until you stopped upon hearing your mother's voice from downstairs, followed by the sounds of her hooves tapping and clapping bluntly against the wooden stairs, becoming louder and louder until your bedroom door opened with a soft creak.

Looking over to your mother, you could see her bright crimson eyes staring back at you and a soft smile upon her lips. Putting down your helmet, you continued to make eye contact. 

Like usual, your mother's sapphire coat was combed perfectly and contrasted nicely with her frost white mane. She came closer to you and knelt down to your level as you waited expectantly for her to say something and she did.

''Blaze, hon, I have something to tell you,'' She said softly, getting a confused yet curious look out of you as to what it was she was about to tell you. ''we're moving to Ponyville!'' She announced with happiness in her voice.

You felt like an anvil had been dropped on your head at the sudden news.

''M-M-Moving?!'' You exclaimed, staring at her with wide eyes. ''But Mum, all my friends are here! What am I supposed to do about them if we move away!'' Inside, you could feel your heart slowly begin to sink. Not a moment later did you feel the caring hoof your mother touch your shoulder.

''Don't worry, Blaze, you'll still be able to see them, just not that often. Besides, I'm sure you'll make some new friends when we get there. Come on, lighten up, we've got to get packing.'' She said in that same soft voice of hers before she turned and took her leave, gently closing the door on her way out and leaving you alone with your ears plopped on back of your head and eyes cast down at the floorboards.

As your mind was trying to comprehend the sudden news, you pointlessly looked around your room at all of the memories that you were going to leave behind with your soon-to-be-somepony-else's-room. Beside you, you put your hooves around your helmet and lifted it back in front of you with both hooves, mindlessly looking over the scratches that covered it's surface.

A disappointed and empty sigh exited your nostrils and you lowered the helmet, looking around the room once more before saying in a quiet and hollow voice, ''Yeah, packing.''