A Song to Sing

by Odetodust

Going Over It Again

“I still can’t believe you went with it so easily.”

Fraid Script smiled to himself as his sister commented on his willingness to apply for Maneton University for what might have been the seventh time since they’d climbed into their bunks that night. Fraid took the liberty of acquiring the upper half, of course. “Hey, it’s not like I dropped everything and said ‘yes’,” he countered. “I did have the sense to actually look in it. After seeing what they have to offer, I have to say Swing has some good taste.” It was true, he had to admit, that the school seemed like a great place for him to specialize, having four wings dedicated to different major career areas: Physical, Agricultural, Magical, and what really attracted him, arts.

It was no secret that Fraid was a musician. Since he was young, he was always writing poems and scripts, and even got a part in the production team for several community plays. Ponies always thought he’d get his Mark in writing, but oddly enough, such a thing never came. Until Charlie moved out of Manehattan, the two of them had been blankflanks together, and he sometimes wondered if they’d be doing that again now that they had met up.

The thought brought him to Creed’s Cutie Mark. Nopony had figured out exactly what the thing meant, nor had they discovered when exactly it showed up or what caused it. The Mark in question was a minimalistic image of a pink butterfly, more of an outline than anything. His guess was that it represented her ability to disregard reality, as she always seemed to have a way to be cheerful about something.

It was then that Fraid realized not only that his train of thought had gone off the rails and over a cliff, but he’d manage to miss the entirety of a question from Creed. “Sorry, what was that? I kind of zoned out for a moment…”

Creed snickered in the bunk below. “I asked which of us you think will be going to M.U.,” she clarified. “I mean, for all we know, none of us will even get in.” Fraid considered this, not having thought of the possibility of rejection before. The sheer thought brought forward more questions than he was willing to answer. Where would they go if they were rejected or kicked out? Would anypony take them at all? If all else failed, then how much would they have to cut back while they were working minimum wage?

He had a tendency to think too far ahead, and sometimes it scared him the kind of worst-case scenarios he came up with.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he lied. In reality, he couldn’t be sure of anything, not with these thoughts in mind. Creed made no sound besides a light shuffling, likely getting comfortable before the two finally let themselves drift to sleep…

About a week after that discussion, Fraid Script was walking with Charlie along Maneton’s streets, on their way to the very building that had been the subject of conversation for quite a while: Maneton University. When Fraid searched the website for a way to apply, he’d found that it was actually an in-person event, and he was required to attend an audition at the school itself. The entire thing seemed a lot more like a job interview than an application to a University, but thinking about it again, he had to agree that a school so popular would definitely have to take a businesslike approach to things like this.

When the two arrived on campus, however, they were surprised to find that in front of the building was what looked like a battalion of Royal Guard soldiers in formation. “What’s the Guard doing here?” Fraid asked nopony in particular.

“You ain’t looking at the Guard, bud,” a voice to his side corrected him. A turn of the head revealed who had spoken to them, a gray Earth stallion. He was standing parallel with them, so it was easy to see the image of a syringe decorating his flank. “That’s the J-G-T-C,” he explained to the two newcomers, “the ponies you hang ‘round when you wanna be Guard. What, you never heard of it?” Both Pegasi shook their heads. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” They nodded.

“Well, apps are over there if you want ‘em, and if you’re already in, orientation’s in ‘bout an hour with the GTC.” The stranger pointed to one of the many buildings lining the campus before directing his hoof to the battalion of wannabe guardsponies. “Wait,” Charlie spoke up, “If orientation is in an hour, why are they forming up now?” “Oh, they’re always early,” came the simple response. Charlie didn’t seem any less confused, but he didn’t push it.

“Anyway, apps don’t start for a while… You can call me Doc, by the way.” “Why ‘Doc’?” Fraid couldn’t help but ask. “Just trust me when I say it’s better than the real deal.” The blue Pegasus shrugged it off as just another personal quirk. Everypony had their own.

“So what’re you here to apply for?” Doc asked. “I know it ain’t the Corps... Medical? Sports?” “Actually,” Fraid took the wheel of the discussion, “I’m here for the musical program, and Charlie’s… Well, I don’t know what he does. What are you signing up for?” The Pegasus in questioned seemed surprised that he’d been asked the question. “Me? I actually wasn’t going to really… You know, apply. I’m just here to keep you company, remember?”

That caught Fraid off guard. Not once had he considered that Charlie wasn’t coming with him. Maybe they weren’t going to tear society a new one together after all. Not like he’d let his partner stay out of this now, though…

“Ooohhh no, you are signing up,” he insisted, poking Charlie’s chest with a hoof. “We both need this, and if Creed can see that, I’m pretty sure you can too… Hey, speaking of which, where is she? I thought she’d be meeting us-“

“I’m right here, of course!”

All three of them nearly jumped out of their fur at that one, turning to see that Fraid’s sister was, in fact, standing directly behind them. “Jeez, quit being so quiet when you walk!” Charlie complained. “It’s weird!” Fraid, however, simply shook his head at his sibling’s antics. “So where were you?” he asked, once Charlie saw fit to stop whining. “Auditions,” she replied simply. “And you’ll be glad to know I passed.”

It was then that an acne-ridden colt in a far-from-flattering bellhop outfit arrived, visibly struggling to push a large cart loaded with various boxes, each with an odd symbol on the side. One could swear it looked just like- “You got into the GTC?” Doc’s flabbergasted reaction was enough to confirm Fraid’s suspicions that the symbol on the side was, indeed, the one he’d seen on the GTC cadets, a replica of Celestia’s cutie mark with a few words in foreign characters lining the inside.

“GTC? I didn’t know you were into military stuff,” Fraid pointed out. His sister had never shown an interest, and now she was signing up for a training corps? “Well, it’s not really the worst line of work,” Creed went on, “And it’s something I can agree with. Things get done, and ponies are fair to each other about titles and whatnot… That, and the uniform’s pretty cool too.”

Fraid wanted to argue, to say that it wasn’t the kind of thing she’d be suited for, but he decided against it. She obviously had some talent in it, if she was accepted, and if it yielded job opportunities, then it was the kind of thing they’d need. It was also a bit less selfish than his own ambitions, but he didn’t bother to dwell too long on that particular detail.

As promised, Fraid didn’t press her any further, and the group simply discussed possibilities in the school until the next round of applications started. Apparently, Doc had earned his nickname as well as his Cutie Mark through his interest in medical studies, and he planned to get a job along the lines of creating medicines. Fraid was sure the would-be doctor saw the blank spot on his own hip, but he didn’t mention it.

Eventually, somepony emerged from the entrance of the building and shouted, “Next!” Even though it was supposedly without direction toward anypony in particular, she was staring at the group with a look that said, ‘somepony had better get their flank in here before they lose their chance.’ Fraid immediately turned to Charlie, who seemed legitimately confused as the others followed the example. Something clicked in his brain, and he got the message, wordlessly leaving his friends to join the staffmember who’d called over.

Ten minutes of waiting later, and he emerged from the audition building again, this time with a look of disappointment on his face.

Comments

[The Notebook]

I would like to see where this goes, please continue.

[ChaosVA757]

I like it. Is there more