Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit!
I can’t believe this just happened to me! Two days before the big show, and I crashed right into the lunch cart. Well at least Soarin forgave me for ruining lunch, after moping about it for awhile. That could be seen as a plus. But on that note, it was only filled with healthy stuff. Not a single slice of pie in it.
Well that’s it, no more Fleetfoot to grace this world with her presence.
But boy did Spitfire chew me out. Not only about wrecking the lunch cart, but also tearing up the only flightsuit I had packed.
The captain had warned me that I should pack a spare. But did I listen? Nooooo… Dammit Fleetfoot, why do you have to be so stubborn?
If I can’t get this thing repaired before tomorrow’s evening meeting, I can kiss my spot on this season’s big shows goodbye. To be replaced by a rookie due a stupid flightsuit, that’s just embarrassing. Not to mention the damage it could do to my reputation. I’d never live it down back in Cloudsdale.
As I stepped into the lift of the hotel, I could see the young bellhop assigned to escort VIPs staring at me. Or rather, he was staring at the rather sizeable gash in my flightsuit, which ran from my cutie mark to my right wing. It didn’t do anything to help my current mood. Who did that little guttersnipe think he was anyway? Looking at me as if I couldn't even fly well enough to keep my own suits intact.
He flinched, ooh shit, he actually flinched.
Did I just say that out loud? No, no I don’t believe I did. Maybe it was just the way I looked at him.
“Ahem, Miss?”
I wanted to bite at him, or make a bitchy remark. But that would not do, even with my own misery I still had the image of the Wonderbolts to uphold.
Just try and smile, just try to smile and act like nothing is wrong. Just like those media classes tried to teach you.
“Hmm? Yes, is something the matter?”
The poor colt looked like he was ready to soil himself.
Way to go Fleetfoot. You might very well have scared him off.
“N-n-nothing, Miss. J-just wanted to point out that you have a large gash on the back of your flightsuit."
Gee, ya think? This stuff is airtight, of course I would know if it was ripped open. Why do you think I’m so pissed off right now?
I took a few deep breaths. In, out, in, out. Just like coach taught us. In with the positive and happy thoughts, out with the negative ones.
Now try and be nice.
But he’s asking for it!
Not helping here, brain! He’s just fishing for a tip. He’s just trying to be nice so he can fetch a bigger tip when we leave this hotel.
“Yes, I was made quite aware of it when it happened.”
Wait a second, this guy sounds like a Manehattan native. And working here he must have heard about ponies able to repair or even custom-make the dresses these ‘elite ponies’ like to attire themselves with. Yes, yes! That could work. Maybe there is somepony who can patch this uniform up.
Or at least patch it up enough that I can still train with the others while the courier is bringing a replacement from Cloudsdale.
“Tell me, is there anypony in the neighbourhood who might be able to fix this?”
I could see the colt’s gears turning. It shouldn’t be too hard, right?
Please say yes. Pretty please say yes!
“There is a mare who might be able to help, she even has a little atelier close by. But don’t pin me on it. The only other who would even RISK touching a Wonderbolt uniform was driven to become a hermit after it was found out that she wasn’t exactly doing legal things.”
Well it could be worse. I’m already excluded now, it’s always worth a try.
“Well then, could you please direct me to this mare?”
A quick change and a short flight later, I was standing outside what has to be one of the smallest shops in whole of Manehattan. Luckily, I was out of uniform. It felt strange how many ponies seemed to completely ignore me. Well, all the more luck to me. That just meant less annoying press trying to get an interview or some pictures.
Could you imagine what the gossip columns would say had they seen me, one of the top three Wonderbolts, stepping in a little place like this. Nothing pleasant, thats for sure.
But after stepping in, my jaw fell open. A few dresses, fit for a major Bridleway play, adorned the mannequins. It was impressive to see.
The small ringing of the bell on the door drew out the owner. A young earth pony mare walked out, far too young to be the owner. The apprentice maybe? Even so, she was by far one of the cutest little things I’ve seen in my life. She had light amberish grey coat with a two toned light blue mane. But it was the flower pin and the collar with scarlet red tie that made the whole picture complete.
“Hello, and welcome to Couture by Coco. I’m Coco Pommel. How can I be of assistance today?”
Wait, is she serious? Is she actually the owner? Well, I guess Spitfire was wrong about something: apparently you CAN be young, cute and successful! Who knew?
“Well, I got this uniform I need fixed. But it’s made of a rather exclusive fabric.”
Taking the flightsuit out of my saddlebags, I showed it to the young mare. Normally, eyes would light up when seeing an official Wonderbolt flightsuit. But she didn’t even bat an eye over it.
“Aah, well I have to admit this is one of the better fanmade suits I have seen to date. The fabric itself feels like the real stuff too.”
Wait, she thinks it’s one of those home-crafted fan things? Didn’t she recognize me?
She didn’t recognize me. It should’ve hurt more than it did. I’ve ALWAYS been recognized by ponies. Even out of uniform. Granted, it made it a bit more difficult to non-fans.
Wait a second, why am I even frowning over this? Here is this incredibly cute mare who doesn’t know who I am. Maybe this is my lucky break. But first things first.
“Do you think you can fix it?”
Coco looked at me, her sparkling blue eyes gazing into mine by accident. I could see a small blush forming on her face. In turn somehow sparking a blush of my own.
Damn that cuteness! There should be a law against it!
“Well, you are in luck. It’s straight on the seams. This should be an easy fix. I even got the thread needed. This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”
YES!! She can fix it, and I can get back in uniform right in time for the meeting. Fleetfoot is back in the team, baby!
As Coco returned her blush had not receded. But she was not even looking at me anymore. What’s up with that? I’m not THAT intimidating right?
Or wait? Was this one of those ‘signs’ ponies tend to blab on about? I thought it was just nonsense. Well then, if it is a signal, I’d be a fool not to take advantage of it. I’m not a marenizer as Spitfire might be. But nopony can say that Fleetfoot would decline a cute piece of mare like that.
“You know, if you’re free, how about going to dinner? My treat for fixing it so swiftly.”
The small ‘Eep!’ she made was beyond cute. Ooh dear, now her face is blushing even more. Is it even healthy to have that much color on your cheeks?
“Oh my, yes I’d love to. But I don’t even know your name, Miss.”
“It’s Fleetfoot, no ‘miss’ or anything like that. Just Fleetfoot.”
*poff*
And there she went. Well, dinner can wait, I got a mare to wake up.