Picking Up the Dust
By Penguifyer
A couple of months ago, Lightning Dust was dismissed from the Wonderbolts and formed the Washouts out of spite. Another two months and the Washouts were shut down for ignoring regulations. Last night, she found herself at a bar drinking herself away.
When the bartender told her to leave, she argued with him with slurring words. “Come on, I’m still paying you. Don’t you want my money?”
“You just downed seven shots in one hour. Just looking at your face, I can tell you don’t have the tolerance for that.”
She lifted her head off of the counter, revealing two puddles underneath. “Maybe I don’t want to drink.”
“And you’ve been whining about the same pony for the entire hour. Customers are leaving because of you.”
“Whining?” She stood on her stool and towered over the bartender. “You dare tell me I’m whining?”
“Yes, and if you don’t stop, I’ll throw you out too.”
She launched her hoof at him but missed the bartender, slipping off of the stool, slamming her against the counter, and falling to the ground.
The crash silenced the bar, drawing every eye to her.
She pushed into her hooves but fell back to the ground. Her head spun ferociously from the alcohol. A bruise grew on her muzzle.
She sniffled.
Crying? How was she crying? Her flying skills matched that of the Wonderbolts. She was one of the best flyers Equestria had ever seen.
A burly stallion, presumably the bouncer, loomed over her.
She raised her head, trying to stare him down. “What do you want?”
He sighed and knelt down. “Let’s get you home.”
Her anger screamed for her to resist but her spinning head and throbbing face said otherwise. Instead, the stallion hoisted her onto his back and carried her out the door as the sounds of laughter and music filled the room again.
“So, uh, where do you live?” the stallion asked once outside.
She let out another sniffle. “Dammit…”
The stallion stopped. “Hmm?”
“Just… how did this happen?” she mumbled as tears streamed down her cheek.
“Whatcha talking about?”
“I-I’m supposed to be a Wonderbolt. I’m supposed to be the fastest.”
The stallion sighed.
“If it wasn’t for her.”
“Look—” the stallion shook himself, shaking Lighting Dust too “—I just wanna get you home. Can you help me with that?”
Her eyes spun in circles. “W-what?”
“Well, where do you live?”
She rubbed her eyes and slurred, “Down the street on the corner.”
“There we go.”
He carried her to the end of the street, stopping in front of a modest two-story house. Walking up to the door, he set her down on the ground and helped her stand up. Lightning Dust wobbled from the spinning.
The stallion turned around to leave. “Can I trust you to find your bed?”
“Piss off,” she scoffed, stumbling through the door. After crawling up the stairs and falling into her room, she climbed onto her bed and buried herself in the blankets. She passed out as soon as she closed her eyes.
— — —
Lightning Dust laid on her bed, unwilling to get up. The clock read 3:00 pm.
Hooves thumped against the door. “Lightning, it’s the afternoon. Come out and see me and your dad. It’ll make you feel better.”
She pulled a blanket over her face. “Just leave already.”
“We know what you did last night. We’re not angry, just concerned.”
Lightning grabbed her pillow and shoved it over her ears. The mention of last night caused her to tear up again.
“Honey… fine.” Hoofsteps echoed away from her room.
Lightning Dust laid in bed trying to compose herself. She was supposed to be a Wonderbolt but instead moped in bed at her parents’ house hungover. Had she really fallen this far? She had the ambition and skill but nothing to show for it.
The doorknob wiggled for a couple of seconds before turning. The door creaked open as her mom poked her head into the room. “Lightning?”
Lightning Dust stayed silent, hoping her mom would leave. Hoofsteps approached her bed before it creaked and bent. Lightning peeked out of her blankets and saw her mom sitting on the bed.
“We’re worried about you.”
“As if I care,” Lightning Dust snubbed back.
“We care, though. And you’re not gonna stop us either.”
“Just leave,” Lightning whimpered. “I get it now. I’m a failure.”
“Failure?” Her mom paused. “I’ve never heard you say that about yourself.”
“It’s true. Don’t lie to me.”
“Don’t tell yoursel…”
“What else am I supposed to think? I got cut from the Wonderbolts, the Washouts got shut down because of me, it doesn’t matter how well I can fly if there’s nothing to fly for.”
“Well…” Her mom tapped the bed. “Why do you fly?”
Lightning Dust sniffled. “Huh?”
“You’ve always wanted to be a Wonderbolt since you were a filly. Wonderbolts are not the only pegasi that fly, though.”
“Any pegasus can fly. I want a blue and gold uniform; I want a badge; I want a roaring crowd.”
Her mother paused before letting out a long sigh. “That’s the thing. You love praise and you love accomplishment. But I wonder if that’s all you have pushing you.”
“I know I can do it. I know I’m capable.”
“I’m not gonna lecture you all night, but I have an idea for you. I’ll tell you tomorrow. You won’t like it, but I think it’ll be for the best.”
Her mom slid off of the bed and walked out of the room, leaving Lightning Dust alone. She didn’t care what her mom’s idea was. She was a failure.
— — —
“Cloudsdale Fly Team!?” Lightning Dust shouted, holding a pamphlet in front of her.
“I knew you’d hate it,” her mother admitted, rolling her eyes.
“But they’re a B team. Their sole existence is to feed into the Wonderbolts.”
“Not everypony is able, or wants, to become a Wonderbolt. You’ll be surprised who ends up there.”
Lightning threw the pamphlet at her mom who caught it with her forelegs. “You don’t understand. It’s embarrassing to go from Wonderbolt team leader to them.”
“The Wonderbolts do the same thing they do, just harder and better.”
“There’s no way I’m stooping that low.”
Her mom grabbed on to her shoulders. “Just trust me. You don’t have to accept the contract if you get one. But I think it’ll be a nice confidence boost if you get a contract from anywhere. Promise me you’ll at least try out.”
Lightning Dust looked away and sighed. At this point, she was desperate for anything. She snatched the pamphlet from her mom’s hooves. “I better.”
“We both know you’re good enough to get one.”
Lightning backed up and walked towards the door. “I know.” She slammed the door behind her and collapsed. “I hope.”
— — —
Lightning Dust stood at the back of a crowd of thirty eager and nervous pegasi. Numbers adorned everypony’s flanks, Lightning’s being twenty-eight.
A greyish-blue stallion with a striped light blue mane stepped onto a box and waved his hoof. “Gather around, everypony!”
The crowd fell silent and stared at him.
“That was fas… anyway, I’m Swift Rain and captain of the Cloudsdale Fly Team. When I’m not here, I work at the weather factory along with a few of you. Just so you know, we’ll be running team exercises as we call out numbers for individual tryouts. Tomorrow, we’ll go over results and contracts.”
The crowd stayed still.
“Anyway, typically we practice on weekends, although we’ll go over all of that when contract time comes.”
Dead silence.
Swift Rain inhaled a deep breath. “Annnd break!”
The crowd stirred and broke up as six pegasi at a time stepped forward and took to the skies. The rest lounged around and observed the trainees.
Lightning Dust stayed towards the back of the crowd, analyzing the flying pegasi. One flew too aggressively with tight corners and near misses. Another struggled to keep up with the other trainees. Yet another lacked awareness and nearly collided with the other trainees. She kept a mental list of their mistakes, keeping them in mind for her turn.
“You look lonely.”
Lightning Dust jumped and turned her head. A teenage colt stood next to her with grey fur and a white mane. “What do you want, kid?”
“Nothing, just…” He looked away and tapped his hoof. “You look like you know what you’re doing. I was just wondering if you could give me a tip or two.”
Lightning sighed. “How much do you practice?”
“Every day after school.”
“Are you confident?”
“I hope so.”
Lightning looked back at the sky. “Then don’t tick.”
He tilted his head. “Tick?”
Lighting pointed to an instructor with a clipboard. “See him? In the old days, instructors would draw a tick on their clipboards whenever they saw a trainee make a mistake. I’m pretty sure that changed at some point, but we still call mistakes ‘ticks.’”
The colt straightened his head. “Huh.”
“Don’t go blurting it around though. It’s not exactly a respectful thing to say. It’s almost an insult.”
He swiped his hoof across his lips. “Zipped and sealed.”
Swift Rain called out from the box. “Number twenty-three!?”
“Ooo, that’s me,” the colt jittered before glancing at Lightning. “Thanks for the tip.”
Lightning Dust let out a soft “Hmm.”
The colt dashed to the end of the cloud and took off into the sky, meeting up with five other pegasi. As they darted around the clouds, the colt held his own amongst the other trainees. Sure, he lacked the reaction time of a trained flyer like Lightning and sweated profusely after just two minutes of intense flying, but he kept at it. His form and technique alone showed he’d put in the effort.
After a ten minute routine, he glided back to Lightning and plopped on the ground, panting from exhaustion. “How’s that?”
“Honestly, not bad.”
‘Really?”
“No Wonderbolt, but you might have a shot here.”
He picked himself up and brushed off his wings. “That’s the goal.”
Lightning murmured, “If and only if…”
“Number twenty-eight!?” Swift called out again.
Lightning stood up and stretched out. “Guess I’m up.”
“Hope you do well!” the colt shouted as Lightning darted into the sky and ignored him.
The routine barely challenged Lightning after trying out for the Wonderbolts: a basic formation flying, a couple of loops, simple obstacles, and ten minutes of endurance. She darted around the clouds and curved around the obstacles with ease. Back at the academy, she would’ve shown off with tight turns and risky loops, but her current apathy prevented that.
The colt walked up to Swift Rain, both of them gazing at Lightning Dust. “She’s pretty good.”
“She is.” Swift Rain motioned for another instructor standing by who trotted to him. He held his hoof to her ear, pointed at Lightning Dust, and whispered, “Make sure she gets a contract.”
— — —
The next day, Lightning and the other trainees sat in a waiting room as the instructors called them one by one into a small room. Some ponies left disappointed, others smiled with contracts in their mouths. Lightning paid little attention to them. She knew she was good enough, but her previous failures left a lingering doubt in her mind. What if she failed again?
“Wook, Wook!” the colt dashed to her, skidding to a stop. A paper littered with paragraphs of text hung out of his mouth. “I got a contwact!”
“That’s, uh… great,” she assured, even less confident in her own ability. “Umm…”
“Oh!” He spat the contract out and caught it with his hoof. “I never told you. I’m Stormbolt”
A voice called from the small room. “Number twenty-eight, Lightning Dust!”
“That’s me.” Lightning slid off of the chair and trotted to the room.
“Lightning Dust? I swear I’ve heard of you before,” Stormbolt pondered as Lightning Dust closed the door on him.
She sighed and sat down on a chair in front of a desk. Swift Rain sat on the other side, nudging a contract toward her. “You’re pretty good, you know that?”
“To be honest, I doubt it sometimes.”
“It’s interesting you’d say that.” He leaned back in his chair. “Word came back to me from the Wonderbolts.”
Lightning Dust suppressed her anger. “What about it?”
“We had a short talk about your past behavior. Then Stormbolt came in and we had a chat about your skill and what you said to him.”
“And?”
He nudged the contract forward again. “I’m still offering you the contract.”
She froze in shock, not sure how to process what he said. “Why?”
“As of now, you haven’t exhibited any of the behaviors that got you cut from the Wonderbolts. You may not be the most enthusiastic pony here, but you are more than qualified. Plus, if you were the same pony you were at the academy, you wouldn’t have treated Stormbolt like you did.”
Lightning Dust stared at the contract. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
Swift Rain smiled. “There’s a clause in there that says we can kick you out for bad behavior. Don’t act like you’re off the hook.”
A tear swelled in her eye. She wiped it away with a hoof. “I-it’s just, all of this time, I’ve wanted to achieve and be acknowledged for it; I wanted to the best. But after hearing that from you—” her words stuttered “—I-I f-feel…”
“Humbled?”
She sniffled and wiped another tear from her eye. “I-i guess.”
He smirked and took a sip from a glass of water to his side. “You’re not the first pony to hit rock bottom.”
“Wait, who told you about…”
He cut her off. “Word gets around. As a word of advice, life is a tryout. You never know who is watching.” He let out a sigh and leaned back. “You’re free to go if you want.”
Lightning Dust nodded, snatched the contract from the desk, and darted out the door. Stormbolt met her outside the door. “I knew you’d get a contract.”
Lightning met him and trotted with him out of the building. “I didn’t.”
— — —
The weekend schedule frustrated Lightning Dust at first. She’d show up every Friday and Saturday, stress out her wings, and spend the next two days sore. Her wings had weakened since the academy, but they still outclassed her fellow teammates.
Stormbolt, on the other hoof, struggled with the twelve-hour Saturday practices. “How do you do it?” he asked Lightning Dust, panting while dripping from sweat.
“I’m used to doing this every day, to be honest.”
“I can barely do this for a couple of hours.”
“You gotta push through. It’s how you get better.”
“Dad said that’s what it’s like to be a Wonderbolt.”
Lightning looked away. “I guess.”
The months went on and the team improved drastically. Stormbolt gained stellar reflexes and decent endurance, growing into a capable flyer. Not quite at Wonderbolt level according to Lightning Dust, but capable.
On the other hoof, Lightning Dust barely felt like she was improving. Sure, her fitness increased and she fine-tuned her technique, but the routines failed to push her compared to the academy. However, she did enjoy flying with a team again, shooting around performing. She realized how much she had missed it.
Soon, the annual Equestrian Flight Team Championships, hosted by the Wonderbolts, came up. They spent a few three day weekends devoted to fine-tuning their routine in anticipation of the competition.
When the day came, they showed up and performed their routine to a roaring audience. The whole performance, Lightning averted her eyes from the Wonderbolts in the middle of the stands. Seeing them riled her up in the first place. Seeing her would enrage her. Because of this, Lightning Dust didn’t tick, but a few of her teammates did, including Stormbolt.
Once they finished their routine and flew to the exit hall, the next group took to the sky and ran their routine. There, Stormbolt approached Lightning Dust. “That loop, I almost stalled on that loop.”
“Come on, it wasn’t that bad. We’re a regional team. Nopony expects us to be perfect.” She laughed internally, wondering how he could mess up doing such an easy maneuver.
“I’ll get over it. I’ve never flown in front of a crowd like that before.”
“You get used to it.”
“By the way, wanna go with me to the stands? The Wonderbolts perform in half an hour.”
She looked away from him. “I’m good here.”
“You sure? This is the first performance of the hyped newbie.”
“Yeah, I’m very sure.”
“Okay then.” Stormbolt darted through the halls and into the stands.
Lightning Dust found a bench and sat down. Being so close to the image of her failure took its toll. As long as she avoided those uniforms, and especially that mane, she’d remain calm. After a quick breathing exercise, she raised her head and composed herself.
A rainbow mane crossed her vision.
Lightning Dust twisted her head and closed her eyes. It couldn’t be. Why was she here, of all places? She controlled her breathing and recomposed herself. There might’ve been other ponies that had rainbow manes. Best not to assume so quickly.
She opened her eyes and looked back down the hall. A couple of pony lengths in front of her stood her, staring straight back.
Lightning jumped off the bench and trotted down the hall, keeping her as out of sight as possible.
“Wait, I wanna tell you something.”
Hoofsteps followed Lightning as she tried to ignore them. She trotted ahead muttering “pleasegoawaypleasegoawaypleasegoaway.”
“Can you stop for a sec?”
Lightning picked up the pace, hoping she would get the message.
“It’s gonna be that way, huh?”
The hoofsteps disappeared, bringing relief to Lightning Dust. She slowed her paced and leaned against a wall. It was over.
A figure blocked an overhead light. It fell to the ground right in front of her. “Ha, you fell for it.”
“What do you want, Rainbow!” Lightning Dust shouted. “Are you gonna rub it in? Are you gonna hold that badge over my head? Just get away from me already!”
“Geeze,” Rainbow scoffed. “I just wanted to congratulate you.”
“For what? Flying with a B team? Especially after being a top candidate for the freaking Wonderbolts.”
“You know Stormbolt?”
“What about him, seriously?”
“He’s a big fan of mine and told me about you.” She looked down. “I’m just glad you didn’t go off the deep end. You’re a great flyer and I’m glad somepony gets to appreciate that.”
“What?” Lightning Dust never expected to hear that.
She played with her badge. “I can’t change Spitfire’s opinion of you and make you a Wonderbolt. But I’m happy you found a home somewhere, and have some friends to show for it.”
A tear swelled in Lightning’s eye. “W-why are you...”
“Uh, it’s okay.”
She rubbed the tear away with her hoof. “You know what? I was so prideful in chasing that badge and uniform that I forgot I loved to fly. I know I can never be a Wonderbolt, but I’m happy I can fly somewhere.”
Rainbow Dash walked up to her and put a hoof on her shoulder. “Hey, we all make mistakes. Sometimes we can’t fix them too. But what we can do is push forward and learn.”
Lightning Dust sat down and wiped her eyes. “I know there’s not much you can do for me but thank you.”
“Hey, that’s what a true friend does. You never know when luck might blow your way,” Rainbow Dash winked.
“That’ll be the day,” Lightning sniffled. “Friend?”
Rainbow Dash smirked. “You heard what I said.”
Author's Note
Dedicated to my indoor drumline director who contracted me even when he knew I’d struggle to pay the tuition. If by some minuscule chance you read this, my jacket is folded up on my dresser and I wear my necklace and age out beads with pride.
