Silk laid his head on the small work desk, his messy azure mane bounced across the table. Small strands of his curly hair locked with his eyelashes, making him twitch and blink. The big stained glass window before him let the bright moonlight into his room, outlining his frame in the dark. Another night he was up writing down new designs for the shirts everypony craved so bad, the designs everypony asked for. How could he come up with anything outstanding if already came out with his best work? The question bounced around in his brain, why couldn't he have saved the best for last? Curse his life choices. His desire to crawl up the ladder of fame, his dreams to inspire the greats. He let everypony down, everypony. Even Rarity. If only she was here to comfort him in his time of crisis. If only Lemón were here. Rage began to fill his head with ease, thoughts of failure clouded his brain. In a flash of anger he jerked up and slammed his forehooves on the desk, making his hooves begin ripping his work to shreds. As he tore through the papers tears formed in his shiny crystal green eyes and began to spill down his scrunched up face, he cried out in a fit of agony his voice rang out and slowly faded.
He hated it. He hated it all. The fame, the fortune...he wanted it all to go. He didn't want all the money, he didn't want the popularity. He just wanted to be "normal" again.
He finished his tantrum by throwing his head back onto the desk with a loud bang, the books on either side of him bounced, some falling onto the floor making small clunk sounds. Now he just sat there, sobs and cries for it all to end escaped his quivering lips. His eyes were shut tight and his teeth were gritted. The small stallion had enough of this life. He proceeded to sulk in his chair for the rest of the night. Sitting in his dark room without anypony to consult, without any shoulder to cry on. He passed out shortly after, finally getting the rest he needed. Little did he know, he missed a knock at the door.
