Luna

The day started like any other, but it didn’t take long for me to feel invisible. Walking through the halls next to Cadence, I tried to appear calm, but everywhere we went, all eyes were on her.

“Wow, are you Cadence?” asked a sophomore, stopping us in front of the library. “I’ve heard about you from Crystal Prep. You’re really good at singing, right?”

Cadence smiled, almost shyly. “Oh, nothing special. I enjoy singing, but there’s always so much to learn.”

The girl seemed enchanted. “You’re too modest. I’m sure you’ll become a star here at Canterlot High.”

I hung back slightly, hoping not to attract attention. When Cadence turned to me with one of her kind smiles, I simply nodded.

Why did everything seem so easy for her?

That afternoon, at the theater club, the room was as noisy and full of energy as ever. Jasmine announced a special exercise: we would be split into small groups to work on a group scene.

“Luna, Cadence, Pharynx, and Olivia,” she said, assigning us to the first group.

My heart sank. Cadence looked excited. “This is great! I can’t wait to try!”

As we started the scene, Pharynx took the lead with confidence, and Cadence seemed immediately at ease, as if the stage were her natural place. Even Olivia, one of the more experienced members, added lines and ideas effortlessly. Meanwhile, I felt like a burden.

“Luna, it’s your turn,” Jasmine said, motioning for me to speak.

The words were written on the script in front of me, but they felt distant, blurred. When I finally managed to say them, my voice was shaky, almost a whisper.

“Don’t worry,” Cadence said with a smile. “You’re doing great.”

But I wasn’t. When I glanced at Jasmine, I could see she was trying to encourage me, but I knew I wasn’t on their level.

When the scene ended, everyone praised Cadence.

“You were amazing,” Olivia said.

“You have a natural presence,” Pharynx added.

I forced a smile, but inside, I felt like Selene: a shadow destined to be forgotten.

That evening, I returned home with a heavy heart. I dropped my backpack on the floor of my room and sat on the bed, staring into space. The sense of worthlessness was suffocating.

I slowly took off my shoes, letting them fall to the floor, and stared at the ceiling. Every time I went to theater club, I felt like an extra in a film that wasn’t mine.

Running a hand through my hair, my breath trembled. Maybe I should just stop going, I thought. No one would really care.

I imagined Jasmine announcing the week’s activities with her usual enthusiasm, not even noticing my absence. Pharynx and the others would keep laughing, acting, shining in the spotlight.

The thought hurt, but maybe it was for the best. Leaving the club would mean no longer feeling like a burden, no longer experiencing that tightness in my chest every time I tried to speak.

The tears came before I even realized it. I tried to hold them back, but in the end, I collapsed onto my pillow, letting the sobs consume me.

Why can’t I be like them? I wondered. Why am I never enough?

Outside my door, Celestia paused. She was about to knock, but the muffled sound of my crying stopped her.

She peeked through the small gap in the door, her face a mix of worry and uncertainty.

“Luna…” she whispered softly, though not loud enough for me to hear.

She seemed like she wanted to come in but stayed frozen in place. Maybe she didn’t know what to say, or maybe she was afraid of making things worse. After a moment, she turned and walked back to her room, quietly closing the door behind her.

When the tears finally stopped, I felt drained. I looked at the notebook on my nightstand, where I had written notes about Selene and Venus’s story.

I picked up the pen and wrote:

“Selene collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The darkness whispered to her: ‘There is no place for you here. No one will ever see you.’ But deep down, a small spark of light continued to shine, hidden beneath the weight of the shadows.”

I closed the notebook and pulled the blanket around me. I wasn’t Selene, but for the first time, I began to wonder if I, too, had a spark of light somewhere within me.

Still, as I tried to fall asleep, the thought of quitting theater club kept returning. Maybe I’m not cut out for this, I told myself.

That night, as I lay in bed, I wondered if things would ever change. I had always believed that loneliness was my fate, but part of me was beginning to hope that maybe it didn’t have to be.