The Final Performance
Nick picked up his mellophone, ready to fulfill his dream. It was the Drum and Bugle Corps National final competition, and Nick's band was ready to go on. He approached the area where his band was meeting, and stepped in the middle of the group by the director, Jay Stevenson.
"OK Blue Devils, this is where we prove our greatness," Jay announced, preparing for his final pep-talk of the season. Nick didn't really pay attention, this was his third, and final, year marching in the corps and the end-of-season speech was the same every year. Jay would ramble on about how it had been another successful season, not that anyone expected any less. They were in one of the top rated Corps in the nation. The speech was almost over, but then Jay said something that wasn't in the yearly norm, "And now, mister Gall will give his final words on the season."
That was Nick's cue to take center stage, he cleared his throat before starting. "First off, I want to thank all of you for taking my music, and turning it into pure art at every performance. I still remember when Jay told me that my composition was to be used for this season's show. Who would've known that a My Little Pony themed show could be so epic? Am I right? So remember, Trumpets, remember that I want that G above high C in the opener to be a surprise to the audience. Tubas, don't forget to put a heavy swing on those eighth notes, you're the ones defining the style for the closer. And finally Mike, remember during our duet that you have to match my style, it will more than likely be a military march style. Should be easy enough for a trumpet to do." The mellophone and trumpet sections had always had a rivalry, with Nick and Mike being the leaders of their own sections. They never took the insults personally though, everyone know that competition inside the band improved performance if used correctly. "Well Devils, this is my final performance, make it worthy of remembrance!" With that, the band erupted into a battle cry, and headed toward the stadium.
2 hours later
The show had been a success, possibly the best show done in Blue Devils history. At least, that's how Nick saw it. He had finally lived his dream, marching in a Drum Corps that he composed for. It was time to celebrate, the mellophone and trumpet sections had all met up at the local club, check out wasn't until noon the next day so they were going to enjoy the night. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, just a bunch of grown up band geeks, celebrating the farewell of a performer, a composer, and a true friend.
Mike then stood up, "To my friend, rival, and fellow Brony, I hope life goes well for you. You may even get to compose for season 4 of Friendship is Magic." Everyone knew that Nick and Mike were bronies, Nick had even earned the nickname Silver Flair. That was his fan-fiction name, as well as the model of his trumpet.
Amidst the celebration, Jay appeared, "Nick, can I speak to you for a second?"
"Sure thing Jay. Hey guys I'll be right back!" Nick told his friends as him and Jay walked to a quiet corner.
"Nick, I know you've officially aged out and you can't march with us any more. You're a talented individual and you've done so much for this corp in the short time you've been here, so I'd like to offer you a job."
"What kind of job?" Nick already knew the answer, but part of him wanted to ask anyway.
"I want you to be my assistant director as well as a brass tech for next season. The pay may not be the best, but since you're looking into directing at the high school level, this would look amazing on your resume."
Nick didn't even have to think about it, both him and Jay knew the answer before anything was even asked.
"I would be honored Jay. Just don't expect me to compose another show, this last one was stressful enough," Nick said with a grimace, remembering the multiple late nights of editing, making sure everything was perfect.
"I understand, trust me. We'll discuss this more later in the year, for now, go finish celebrating, you deserve it!"
With that, Jay watched as Nick went to tell the good news to his pals. "Next season is going to be one for the record books, I just know it."
Once everyone had their fill of entertainment they stumbled out of the club and toward the hotel. It had started raining while they were in the club. Mike had drank a little too much and was enjoying his drunken stupor.
"He may be happy now," Nick explained, "but he's gonna hate the world once the hangover sets in tomorrow."
Everyone got a good laugh out of that, even Mike. He didn't know why everyone was laughing, but he knew something funny was said.
As the group continued walking, they eventually appeared at the final crosswalk before the hotel. Everyone was tired and ready to sleep, especially Mike, who had already tripped over 3 trash cans, 2 bikes, and one very annoyed homeless man that Nick calmed down by buying him some food from the McDonald's close by and donating to his spare change jar. They began their trek across the street, then Mike stopped in the middle to tie his shoe. Nick turned around and saw a runaway bus heading straight at Mike. Everyone around Nick started yelling for Mike to move, but he wasn't paying any attention. He was completely oblivious to the rolling death trap approaching.
Nick's instincts kicked in, he broke free of the group and tackled Mike out of the way, but he tripped. This sobered Mike up momentarily long enough for Nick to smile, say "Stupid trumpet players," and get hit by the bus.
The following morning
Nick was floating, at least that's how he felt. He tried to remember what happened, he pushed Mike away from the bus,then there was a bright light, then darkness. He couldn't see anything. "Am I dead?" he wondered. Then he began to hear voices, none that he recognized though.
"We're losing him Doctor!"
"Don't you dare give up on me, you can make it through this!"
To Nick, this sounded like banter on a bad medical soap opera. However, the situation soon became apparent as he heard a monotonous beeeeep that could only be a heart monitor flat-lining. "Oh dang I really am dead, so what happens now?" Nick wondered.
"It's all my fault! If I hadn't drank so much h-h-he'd s-still be h-here," Mike sobbed as the doctors told them the tragic news.
"Please Buddha, God, hell even Celestia, save him! He doesn't deserve to die!"
__________________________
Princess Celestia had just finished raising the sun for the morning to begin. Suddenly a green flame appeared with a letter. She knew right away that it was the most recent friendship report from her faithful student, Twilight Sparkle, a unicorn of superb magical strength. She decided to read her student's letter before beginning her daily duties as princess of Equestria. The letter read
Dear Princess Celestia,
Today, I learned that there may be times when you're the only pony that can make a difference in another pony's life. Today I made a new friend, Lyra Heartstrings. She came to the library wanting Harp Remedies and Repairs because she had recently broke her most prized harp. Then something unexpected happened. While I was getting her book, Spike had sneezed and Lyra jumped between me and the flames. Luckily I studied Super Natural Cures so I knew an effective burn remedy. I'm surprised that a pony I barely knew would risk her life...
"Please Buddha, God, hell even Celestia, save him! He doesn't deserve to die!"
Celestia dropped the letter, she could finish it later. Her attention was focused to the prayer that she just heard.
"Luna! I need you!" the sun goddess yelled as she teleported to her sister's room. Luna, the moon goddess, had just awoken yet her mane of stars was flowing as beautifully as always.
"What dost thou -ahem- What do you need dear sister?" Luna inquired. Celestia didn't get worked up often, but it was always important when she did.
"I just received a prayer from earth, apparently there's a dieing human that should be living. I need you to take over my duties while I travel to Earth and see what's got a human worked up enough to pray to me."
Then in a flash of light, she was gone, teleporting to Earth to answer a human's plea.
