Sensation (SFW Version)

by Vivid Syntax

Chapter 2 - Performance

I didn't sleep that night, or at least not enough to do me any good. I'd roll over, get comfortable, and start to doze off, but then my brain kept going in circles – Sapph, Wonderbolts, nopony. Lather, rinse, repeat. You know how when you can't do something simple, your heart starts to race? You get so focused on how much you're failing that you can't possibly succeed. I heard myself grunting at one point, and I kept slamming my head into the pillow, like that would relax me.

Eventually, I looked over at the clock. "Seriously?" It was almost sunrise. "Ugh… Buck this." I threw the sweaty sheets off of me and made my way to the bathroom, grabbing a small raincloud from the closet. Stepping into the shower, I lifted the cloud above my head and gave it a sharp jab, and the icy water washed away any chance I might have had at getting to sleep.

I toweled off and grumbled to myself about another sleepless night. I headed straight for the door, passing by a few pieces of fruit I'd left on the kitchen table. They looked tempting, but my stomach – still burning from all the drinks in Manehattan – churned at the sight of them, screaming at me that I'd better leave them alone. If I'd thought about it, I would have realized how stupid it was to go flying on an empty stomach, but it turned out to be one of the best awful decisions I've ever made.

With a shake of my mane, I stepped outside and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. Nopony was out that early, and everything was still. My eyes quickly adjusted to the twilight, and for a second, I thought about trying to sleep again.

But I shook my head. "No," I mumbled. No place was comfortable for me, and if I was going to be awake anyway, I wanted to do the one thing that still made me happy.

Stretching out my wings and cracking my neck, I focused again on my goal: the Wonderbolts Academy. I couldn't see the grounds from my front yard, but I could visualize every corner of it, and I could map out every flap of my wings that it would take to get there. Just thinking about the flight made my wingtips tingle with warmth, and as I trotted forward, that warmth spread to the rest of my body. I picked up speed, and as I neared the road, I leapt into the sky, where I soon soared above the dozens of nearly identical buildings that made up the Estates.

Even though my eyes adjusted quickly to the dim morning light, it was still too dark to make out a lot of Cloudsdale's details. I flew a few hundred meters up so nopony would bother me. The wind bit into my skin, but at least it was at my back. I saw vague shapes of houses as I flew over them, occasionally broken up by a modest park or a business district. A few other pegasi flew below me on their way to work, but I could only start making out the fine details as I approached the Academy and the sun peeked up over the horizon.

The Academy is best described as "square." The main campus is square, the buildings are square or rectangular, and with the exception of a few training grounds, almost everything is made up of straight lines. The offices, almost all cloud buildings with metal reinforcement, are near the east side, and the middle is reserved for the barracks, mess hall, and a few streets and open lots for marching and take-offs. The west end is a little more free-flowing with open areas for weight training, including an outdoor gym. Statues pepper most of the corners, all depicting famous Wonderbolts or historically important formations. Besides the training plateau, everything is made of clouds or metal, and it all has a very clean, very professional look to it that was supposed to make us feel like our commanders knew what they were doing but really just put everypony on edge.

The Academy was starting to come to life right as I arrived. Some of the more dedicated recruits were practicing in the fields, and a few other ponies milled about, taking in the morning before the real work began.

"Wonder if Streak's up yet," I said to myself as I spiraled down towards the barracks. A guard in a dark blue uniform casually flew past, but he recognized me and didn't cause any trouble. I snuck down to the barracks and peeked inside. Fire Streak was sprawled on a bed with one hoof on the floor. "Heh. Snooze, ya' lose, buddy." Figured I wouldn't wake him.

I flew over to the training plateau, a giant green splotch with a track, plenty of gear, and a landing strip. Clouds are great, but it's nice to have something a little more solid to do exercises on. A green pegasus was taking laps through the obstacle course. She was alright, but some of her turns were wide. Not too impressive, but I admired the work ethic. She might make main squad someday.

I found a nice soft patch of grass and stretched out with some wing-ups, but it didn't take long for the exhaustion to catch up with me. A couple sets in, I started counting out loud to keep myself focused. "Fifty-three… Fifty-four… ugh… Fifty-five…"

My eyebrows furrowed and my teeth ground together as I stared out at the sunrise. I felt the strain all the way to the tips of my feathers. "One-Sixty-seven…" My breaths were shallow, and my face had flushed red. At least my brain was occupied.

"Two-Eighty-eight… Eigh… eigh… Hwuh!" I collapsed onto the soft grass, where a small burr dug into my belly. Two hundred and eighty wing-ups is pretty respectable, but I suddenly dreaded having to go all day. I yawned and thought to myself, 'Maybe one of the mess hall cooks has some coffee ready.'

A stern, raspy voice chided me from behind. "You're getting sloppy towards the end, Soar'." It was low, but definitely female.

"Hey, Spitz," I said between breaths. I didn't lift my head from the ground. Sure, I probably should have stood up and saluted or something, but Spitfire and I were cool, and I couldn't get past the thought that, for somepony with such a terrifyingly loud voice, she sure snuck up on me a lot.

I heard her plodding closer. "Goes for your performances lately, too." Spitfire, a yellow pegasus with the fiery mane, stopped in front of me as I hobbled onto my hooves. She was already laying into her critique. It got annoying, but it was a huge part of the group's success. She cocked an eyebrow at me. "If you're not going to follow through to the end, you might as well not even try. It's not going to impress an audience, it's not going to impress your reports…" She flashed a scowl. "…and it's certainly not going to impress me." Spitfire had a knack for motivation, and I felt myself snap to proper posture just in time for her voice to soften and concern to creep into her eyes. "So what's eating you?"

Sitting down, I put on a goofy smile. She'd have been disappointed with anything else, and I really, really didn't want to go into what I was feeling inside. "Uh, nothing! Nope, just felt like hitting the course early today and getting in some extra practice."

Spitfire glared. I grimaced.

She leaned in, no doubt expecting more. When she didn't get it, she sat down, rubbing a hoof to her temple and shutting her eyes tightly. After a moment, she looked up. "Soarin', you never – NEVER –," she spat, punctuating her remark with a poke to my nose, "get up early unless something's bothering you, so stop being stupid and tell me what's up."

I scooted a few inches away, a bead of sweat running down my face. "I told you, I'm fine." I couldn't look at her until I had my comeback. "Besides, since when do you care how about anypony's feeeeelings?" I lingered on that last word, pointing a hoof back at her and wearing a sarcastic smirk.

Spitfire wasn't buying it. "Since it's started affecting your performance!" She stomped a hoof onto the soft ground. "Soarin', I can't pretend I haven't noticed. You've had your head in the clouds for weeks now, and everypony's counting on you to be a star performer, but you haven't been! Remember two weeks ago, when you clipped Fleetfoot during the entrance?"

How could I forget?

It was the first show of our stint on the east coast, and we were all psyched to be back home after so many months on the road. The downtown stadium was packed, the noise rumbled in my chest from the moment we left the locker room, and the energy from the crowd more than made up for exhaustion from being in bed with a lucky stallion all afternoon.

The music swelled. The thunder rumbled. Cloud machines spewed out enormous black clouds over the open-top stadium, blocking out all the light from the city. Darkness fell over the crowd, but they just cheered harder in their blindness. The clouds condensed together, forming a giant, writhing mass. Most of the team had snuck into the cloud cover from above, where they started flying clockwise around the rim of the stadium to keep the foggy canopy in place. The announcer's deep voice bellowed over the sound system. "Maaaaaaaaares and gentlecolts! The moment has almost arrived!"

Our cue. I nodded at Lightning Streak and Skyhoof. They looked like they were gonna pee themselves with excitement. We jumped away from the landing platform outside the stadium, flying straight up into the night sky. The announcer continued below us. "Get ready for Equestria's finest fliers, the rulers of the sky, the conquerors of clouds…"

Hundreds of meters above the city and soaring higher, I took a deep breath and gave the signal with my hoof. We made a perfect loop in a triangle formation – me in front – and dove back toward the stadium.

"… in ten! Nine! Eight!"

We picked up speed. I extended a hoof, cutting through the wind to reduce the drag for my teammates.

"Seven! Six!"

Small sparks crackled just in front of my hoof. Electricity tingled all over my body, making my coat stand on end even under my flight suit. Blood rushed to my head as the air whipped past us, too fast to breathe. Right on schedule.

"Five! Four!"

Time slowed down. Time always slowed down when I was about to do something epic. It gave me time to pump myself up. 'Okay, Soarin', this is all you. Lightning and Skyhoof are backing you up, but this is all about you. You've got this.' The black clouds swirled into a giant target, and we were headed right for the center. 'I'm the best there ever bucking was.'

"Three!"

We saw our teammates dash out of the clouds in every direction, perfectly synchronized.

"Two!"

A muscle in my flank spasmed, and I almost blacked out from all the energy swirling around us. The clouds were close, too close to turn back.

"Please welcome…"

This was the moment.

"THE WONDERBOLTS!"

I punched through the exact center of the clouds. A deafening crack shot out from my body as I broke the sound barrier, sending lightning streaking all around me. The streaks looked like white-hot blood vessels, spreading across the pent-up clouds and evaporating them in a flash of brilliant light.

Skyhoof, Lightning, and I broke our formation and split off just before hitting the ground, making a low pass over the crowd and leaving behind a still-crackling contrail. I could see the awe and wonder and excitement on so many faces… and I got greedy.

I broke formation to do an extra corkscrew maneuver. It only took a second, and I thought I could catch up to where I needed to be, but I got disoriented coming out of the spin, and by the time I righted myself, I was late for the lattice flyover but I went for it anyway and I felt something soft crunch against my hoof and when I turned around for the return there was a squadmate missing and I…

…

I was so pissed at Fleetfoot for copping out during the big opening. Sweet Celestia, I'm a dolt. I don't think anyone in the audience noticed, though, since Swift Gust was on standby and got right into formation. She's great…

She's… really…

Spitfire snorted, and I shook my head, bringing myself back to the present at the Academy. My eyes found the ground. "I was… tired that night."

"Like buck you were!" She sounded hurt, something I wasn't really expecting. "You almost ended her career – not to mention her life – by being careless! If the spotters had been as out of it as you were–"

"Look, I already apologized to her! I'm sorry!" It came out more pleading than I wanted. "I was off my game that night." I felt my body shrinking into itself, like I was trying to hide in the wide open space. "I don't know what went wrong."

Spitfire lowered her voice as she stood and stepped toward me. "I do. You're slipping up here…" She tapped me between the eyes, not at all gently. "…because something's wrong down here." I got another jab, this time to the chest. Quietly, she added, "You're not into it these days."

I glanced down to her hoof, then back to her face, then down and away. "Sorry…"

She took a deep breath and looked at the sunrise. My coat stood on end, waiting for her to yell at me, but she calmly explained, "Soarin', I can't make you tell me what's wrong. I'm not even convinced you've got it figured out. I just hope you can come to terms with it before you find yourself without a job."

I was so relieved she wasn't angry that her words didn't register right away. "It's no proble… Wait, what!?" My head snapped back at her, eyes wide. I must have leapt two meters in the air before I landed with my face right up against hers. "WHAT?"

She didn't even flinch. "Soarin', I'm your friend, and I'm rooting for you." She started walking away. "But, friendship or not, I can't in good conscience let you endanger the rest of the team while you're stuck in your own head." I couldn't move. "Just take it a day at a time, and start with eighty laps around the track. You need to work on endurance."

Hearing an order short-circuited my fear and got my lips moving. "Hey, Thursdays are choice days! We're supposed to do whatever workout we like."

She spoke over her shoulder. "And the co-captain of the Wonderbolts is supposed to have a flawless show every night. You're working endurance today." She hopped into the air and dashed away.

Spitfire left me alone on the plateau, and I stuck out my tongue at the thought of working endurance. Looking around, I saw that green pagasus still working the obstacle course. She looked like she was about to collapse. I sighed. "Dammit."

* * * * *

Soarin's face wrinkles up, like he's tasted something sour.

I scratch my beard and cock my head to the side. "What's so bad about endurance training? I've seen your shows – you never falter, even during the finales."

"Well…" He pauses and looked up and to the side, like he's trying to fish an answer from his brain. "The shows are different. You've got the crowd, you've got the rush. You don't even notice how tired you're getting."

"But when you're just doing laps…"

"Ugh," he whined, flopping hard on the couch. "It's sooooo boring!"

* * * * *

I started panting at around the fourtieth spin around the track, right as I passed by the lap counter. Spitfire had been right, as usual. Her long-distance regimen was wearing me out, and I wasn't even halfway done. Not that I was pacing myself, though. Flying at anything less than maximum speed seemed criminal, and the faster I could get done, the better.

Aside from my heavy breathing and the jingling of the safety goggles around my neck – there's a big box near the workout equipment, and they make us pick up a pair whenever we train – everything was silent. Everypony else was off doing lighter workouts, and none of them had wanted to come pass the time with me, not even Fire Streak, so I only had myself to talk to. "Wonder if Spitfire told them to leave me alone. Probably thought I'd try to make it a race." I huffed at the thought. "Aaaaaand, she'd be right."

With nopony to keep me company, I just kept flying around…

And around…

And around…

"This sucks." Sweat was beading on my coat, cooling me off but making me itch. I mean, I could deal with the physical strain – no problem, I'd push through – but between the loneliness of the track and the muffled droning of the breeze, all my favorite old demons came marching back.

My mood rose and sank with my wings. 'The hell is wrong with me? Nothing! I'm Soarin' Bucking Windsong! I'm just in a funk.' My lips pursed involuntarily. 'Okay, but how long have I been telling myself that? It's been at least a month, maybe two. Eh, it'll be fine but holy cow Spitfire threatened my job!!! What a bitch.'

My shoulders went slack, and I slowed down. 'No, she's not a bitch. She's just doing her job.' My heart beat faster, and it wasn't the exercise. 'And I can't even seem to do mine. Buck, the tabloids would go nuts over a washed up Wonderbolt, and I'd have no more money or mares or stallions or anything! No more nights out! No more fans! No more PIE!'

I laughed at myself when I realized how far off the rails my thoughts had gone. Sometimes, that’s the only defense you've got. "Nah, there'll always be pie."

I took a look around. Nopony had heard me, and I started getting that same feeling as the night before, that feeling of aimless restlessness that irritated me to the core like an infection. I wanted to be somewhere – anywhere – that would get those anxieties off my mind. That infection felt like it was spreading inside me, and as I kept flying, I sneered, feeling the pressure build up inside me until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Aw, buck it." I growled, forcefully strapping my goggles on. I dashed forward, full throttle! My increased wingpower knocked down the lap counter as I blew past, and sneered down at the track below. I sailed out of the training area and dove through an opening in the clouds.

I had to get away. I had to escape.