All the world's a stage

Trainwreck. Ticking time bomb. A disaster waiting to happen. It rung in Scootaloo's ears like some one-hit wonder nopony would stop singing. A song she hated. Because of her parents. Nopony would ever judge her on her actions. Only her parents. What they had done. And so everyone gave her that look, the "Oh, poor Scootaloo, too bad her life is going to suck" look. No matter what she did, no matter what success she found. Still with the pity. It made her want to scream. The anger showed in the decor of her room. Splashed paint on the wall, a steel loft bed with ripped up throw pillows. Heavy metal music playing at full blast. It had been three years since Wind Whistler adopted her. She still hated everypony. The audition, for the part, had seemed like a bright spot, a solution. No such luck. It didn't bring her respect, just magnified the pity. She screamed and kicked the wall. "I HATE THIS!" she yelled. She wasn't sure what "this" meant. It was an all-encompassing expression. If it was an expression. Maybe it was only rage.