"I'm Fine."
Soarin stared out at the horizon. Not a single cloud in the sky to be seen and a content smile on his face. His front hooves hung over a railing, idly hanging over it as it dropped off into the vast plains of Equestria. From his vantage point, he watched the tall grass sway in time with the breeze, ripples of gold spreading across the plant sea.
It was his favourite perch in Cloudsdale. A secluded place for him to watch the sun set on its guided path towards the horizon. Somewhere quiet for him to be alone with his thoughts as he went over the events of the day.
To think about whether you should jump off the edge and end things.
The smile on Soarin’s face became momentarily strained before reasserting itself to its earlier relaxed state.
He thought about his first day back to the Wonderbolts after the off season. It had gone on longer than it was supposed to, but that was to be expected as the team readied themselves for the upcoming show season.
And because you have let yourself go farther than you should have.
Relenting that he had been a bit behind his usual norm, he forgave himself due to how busy he had been. Family affairs, friends, and a budding relationship had left hardly any time to keep in top shape.
You had laid on the couch for more than half of it.
Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with hard work. He’d be back in peak condition soon enough.
Unless the extra bales stayed.
You’d be the widest Bolt on the team.
The worst flyer.
Frowning as his mood soured, Soarin reasserted to himself that he would lose the extra weight. He always did. Less than a month, and he would be back to flying as he always did.
Maybe not as well since he was the oldest Bolt on the team besides Spitfire, but he was Team Captain for a reason. His experience outweighed his slightly decreased physical ability.
Worthless in the face of youth.
New talent will replace you.
Like Thunderlane.
Like Rainbow Dash.
Even if he did end up… retiring due to his age, he’d still have a place on the team as an instructor or a… desk… jockey. But it was hardly something to focus on as Soarin was still well in his prime.
And unable to get yourself off the couch without a job making you.
He got off the railing and stomped around the flat top of the cloud, his hooves leaving small indents in the fluffy white surface. His brow was furrowed, a frown now firmly affixed to his face.
Flapping his wings in agitation, he couldn’t help feeling that they were slower than they used to be. That his wing muscles were less muscular and more… flabby. Every stomp of his hooves felt weaker, degradation from age and laziness.
Stopping in place, he forcibly shook his head to dislodge the feeling from his mind. He took a deep breath then turned his mind to other events in his life.
Like his recent dates with Thunderlane who’d shown interest in him.
For your position.
For the prestige.
For your body.
They had connected on a real level. Bonded over a shared dislike of their parents who pushed them too hard, and expected too much. Of how hard it was to get into the Bolts as weaker flyers that had to push everyday to get even a tenth of the results of a more talented teammate.
It had been comfortable talking with somepony that had understood him without Soarin needing to explain. He felt happiness bubble up inside him as he thought back over their time together.
Everything had felt right.
Except for the age difference.
How close you are to losing your position.
That your relationship will end along with your career.
Of course, it could go badly, but Soarin was optimistic about his chances. Worse comes to worse, he would just keep trying. He would find a partner. Eventually.
And if he didn’t, he still had his friends, the other Bolts.
Who suck up to you.
Who only care that you’re the Captain.
Who resent you for it.
They had stuck with him through thick and thin, best friends for years. Spitfire, Fire Streak, and High Winds he’d even known since High School. The three of them had stuck together through all sorts of mishaps, and pushed each other to be better.
He could always count on them just as they could count on him.
Except when you weren’t useful.
When they replaced you with her.
Heat burned through Soarin at the thought of how easily they had replaced him. How eager.
And with Rainbow Dash of all ponies.
Fastest flyer of a generation. Maker of the rainboom. Element of Loyalty. A list of achievements longer than anypony he had ever met. A natural genius when flying.
He hated—
Soarin forcibly stopped his train of thought and took a deep breath. He forced a smile back on his face and continued his erratic pacing. There was no point getting worked up about Rainbow. He had no resentment toward her and she was perfectly fine.
Just fine.
He returned to his prior position, hanging his forehooves over the railing. The sun was well past the horizon and bathed the landscape in a comforting orange glow.
It was beautiful.
You should end things.
It filled him with joy.
They can easily replace you.
It was…
You’re expendable.
Bittersweet.
A sour tang mixed with sweet sunshine.
His eyes were drawn downward, past the opaque clouds and the hard ground far below him. He wrinkled his face in distaste.
He didn’t see any reason to listen to such nonsense.
That a part of you knows is all true.
He stepped away from the edge, his thoughts still loudly giving their opinions on his current state.
Soarin tuned it out.
He didn’t have any time to waste on himself.