The school day had long since ended, and all of the students of Canterlot high had all said their goodbyes for the time being and headed off home. For the most part, things were good amongst them all, with no real problems or worries to speak of. And yet, there was one among them who had a lot on his mind. Flash Sentry, noted guitar player of the school, had come home some time ago, and was, at this very moment, in his room. He had discarded his famed guitar on his nearby bed, and was instead looking at a mirror hanging from the wall. He stared at his reflection for some time, thinking things over in his head. Eventually, and after much difficulty on his part, he finally managed to get some words out.
"I...I am Flash Sentry. I go to Canterlot High School. I've got friends. Lots of people who like me. I've got a loving family, my Mom and Dad. I play the guitar, and I play it in a band. And I...I'm...I'm..."
He frowned, showing clear difficulty in getting his words out.
"Come on, Flash! You play guitar. You have friends. You have family. And you...you..."
But still, no further words came to finish off that sentence, leading to an ever-increasing look of frustration upon his face.
"This is ridiculous. There's...there's got to be more to me than just that! I mean...people keep saying I’m a "nice" guy" and all that, so I guess I can add "nice" to the list. But...what else? I play guitar, I'm apparently nice, and..."
He stopped, looking away for the time being and letting out a sigh.
"It's stupid! Why am I even thinking about this right now? It's never bothered me before. So why now? Is it...is it because so much has happened recently? Canterlot High has been a bit more...erm...eventful than normal the last year or so. Maybe I'm just not feeling that special now that we have full-on heroes going there?"
He looked back to the mirror.
"Yeah. Maybe that's it. I'm just feeling down because it's hard to live up to Rainbow and Sunset and all the rest of them."
He smiled, content in that knowledge he was feeding himself. And yet, it did not last, as his smile faded again soon afterwards.
"But...what if that's not the problem? I keep going over myself and what I can do, and...I always come up short. I play guitar, and I'm supposed to be the nice guy, but...is that it?"
A frown formed on his face.
"Is that all I am? Nice with a guitar? Is...is there nothing to me worth remembering? Nothing that makes me stand out? Am I just...am I just the kind of guy who'll be forgotten the moment I'm not there for people to see? Am I the kind of guy nobody would care about if I weren't there?"
In the silence that followed, the mood in that room was unquestionably a down one, as Flash took a few steps backwards and sat on the edge of his bed. He reached over, playing a few notes on the strings of his guitar, before eventually looking up again.
"But then...she likes me."
Thinking on that, Flash's smile returned, and he once more got to his feet.
"Yeah...Twilight likes me! And I like her too! And she's...she's special. She wouldn't like me unless I had something going for me, right?"
But, yet again, the smile began to wane.
"And yet...that’s just it. She is special. And every special thing she's done has always been...without me. I never contributed. Never made anything better. I was just...a face in the background, no more important than anyone else. No...I was worse than useless those days. I was a mind-controlled thrall like everyone else. So..."
Turning, he looked upon his own reflection once more.
"It is true? I'm just a stereotypical nice guy? Is that it? Am I just..."
The word he thought of now was stuck in his throat, almost as if his body would throw up if he even whispered it. And yet, through sheer bull-headedness, he finally spluttered it out.
"...b...bland? Am I bland? Uninteresting? Unremarkable? Un...unimportant?"
A sigh escaped him.
"Maybe...but that doesn't make me a bad person. I mean...being a nice guy isn't so bad, right? It means people like me, and that's good. It means I'm better than those who've tried to do bad things in our school, which is a lot, now that I think about it."
A frown grew over his eyes.
"Being that kind of person doesn't mean I have any less right to be here, to live, to do things, or even to be with...with her. I'm not important. But...if she likes me...then that's a good thing. That's not nothing. It's something that makes me stand out. Twilight is so...smart...and funny...and beautiful. She's one-of-a-kind. And if she likes me...then there's got to be more to me than what I can think of. If there wasn't...why would she like me? Why would she want to be friends with me?"
Another sigh escaped him.
"And what’s worse is that...I nearly jeopardised all of that with her. I said so many terrible things to her. I made her cry. I...I can never forgive myself for that. Oh sure, she'll tell me it's no problem. That I was mind-controlled and all that. But it doesn't matter. I still did it, and in doing so I risked the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Something special with a special girl that..."
Melancholy crossed his face.
"...that maybe I've never been good enough to deserve having in my life."
Flash took a step forward, placing his hand upon the mirror.
"I’m...not in the habit of talking to people who aren't there. But...if there is someone who can hear me...then please...don't make it so I'm just a face and a guitar. Make me someone. Make me...make me worth remembering. Make it so that one day...I'll have something about myself that makes me stand out, something that makes me more than just another face in the background who does nothing. Because..."
Looking at the ground, he shut his eyes tightly.
"...I want...I want to matter."
