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- >This is a story about a mare named 'Actias.'
- >now, Actias was a simple mare with simple needs
- >but there is one thing that she would always ask for;
- >every day and every night, she would pester Anonymous, the resident human, to take her to the town's choir auditions
- >for she liked singing
- >and she liked singing a lot
- >every week on Wednesday morning, she would sing to Anonymous and her other friends in the park
- >they all loved her singing voice
- >but, the thing about Actias is;
- >she doesn't sing
- >she squeaks
- >but even so, her dear friends would cheer and stomp their hooves for her, encouraging her, spurring on her interest in the vocal arts
- >she pestered Anonymous at a greater rate than she would before, almost pleading with him to bring her to town hall for an audition
- >and every time, Anonymous said 'no,' but never gave her a reason for his decision, always dodging her accusing questions
- >Until one day, Anonymous finally said;
- >"Yes."
- >Actias could not believe her ears!
- >she had finally gotten her wish to sing in the town choir!
- >and now, today, they would go to town hall for the audition
- >Actias would finally sing in the town choir for all to hear!
- "Anonymous, I still can't believe you finally gave me a 'yes'!"
- >You are in the town square, looking about at the market surrounding you as you stroll towards the towering building ahead of you
- >there's all sorts of things on sale; pears, apples, applesauce, and even nectar!
- >town life is certainly luxurious, what with all the expensive foods around here
- >"I can't believe it either."
- >you 'humph' in mock-annoyance, but you're still giddy from the thought
- >the sky is clear, the birds are singing (much like you will be), and the air is nice and cool...
- >it's such a perfect day~!
- >town hall is certainly smaller than you remember, though
- >you contemplate the decision to get Anon to buy you some nectar, but decide against it
- >that's probably pushing a bit too far
- >Reaching the monolithic construction, you push open the large metal doors
- >or, try to, at least
- >they're a bit heavy
- >not wanting to wait around, you make Anonymous open them for you
- >he grumbles something under his breath, but pushes the door through the portcullis anyway.
- "Thanks, Anon."
- >he grumbles more, probably "you're welcome," but you're too entranced by the room's lighting to notice
- >the light reflects off the floor and walls, throwing it around the place
- >it's...
- >beautiful
- >it's as if you had stepped into a supernova!
- >oh, that's perfect...
- "Aaaaaoooooohhh..."
- >something that feels vaguely viscous slips out of your mouth
- >"Allllrighty, then. Actias, come on, we've got business to attend to."
- >the offending voice's arms grasp you into a tight hold as the lights...
- >...Oh. They're gone now.
- >...What just happened?
- >"This is why I got you those shades to wear."
- "It's not my fault that I happen to like lights!"
- >"Well, you can't just go drooling all over the floors in public, now can you?"
- "Hmmph!"
- >whatever
- >the matter is dropped, and you are set on the floor gently
- >you notice that you're in a corridor, right in front of another pair of doors
- >there's a door on the left
- >and there's a door on the right
- >you step through the one on the right, the one with a sticky note that reads 'Auditions' on it
- >they clearly didn't think it'd take this long for the singer's positions to fill up
- >it's a small room, with a corner desk and chair fitted snugly against the walls of the corner
- >on the chair sits a dark-blue unicorn stallion, looking very much like he came from a business-suit convention
- >kinda like Anon's suit, but smaller and more blue
- >He looks at you with a look that suggests boredom
- >"Hello, ma'am. You're here for the auditions?" the stallion asks in a bored high-class kind of voice
- "Of course!"
- >mister bored-unicorn waves you over to the seat opposite him, and you gladly comply
- >"Please sit down. I need to thoroughly analyze your vocal capabilities."
- "Oh. So you just run a spell across me to check my vocal chords?"
- >Mister Blue (as you now notice his actual name on a nameplate located on his desk) laughs a humorless laugh
- >"No, miss. That's for medical personnel only. Now, let me get the lyrics for you..."
- >And so, Actias sat there in the blue stallion's office, squeaking out countless notes of varying pitch, doing her very best
- >the fifth rendition of "Camptown Races" seemed a bit unnecessary, though
- >Actias squeaked like never before, straining her vocal chords to match the administrator's beat
- >Anonymous looked on, impressed at his friend's ability to follow the rhythm to a T, even through the voiced rendition of "In the Hall of the Mountain King"
- >and soon, the audition was over
- >Mister Blue packed his equipment away for the day with a dull look on his face, simply stating to Actias that she would get a letter in the morning concerning her performance
- >and he left without another word
- >Anonymous took the eager Actias back to her house to await the official letter of confirmation
- >and it was not a week later when it finally arrived...
- >You can hear the quiet sobbing from Actias's room
- >it's been... 'Rough' for her lately
- >ever since you took her to town hall for auditions, she had been a big ball of excitement and giddiness
- >and then her letter arrived
- >the letter had nothing much to say
- >because the titanic, red [REJECTED] stamp at the top of the page had stated it's purpose clearer than the muddled political paragraphs below the margin
- >Actias was rejected
- >"Rejected for squeaking instead of singing properly," as the note read
- >rejected from what she had thought her true calling
- >and no matter how much you would try to reconcile her, being the helpful housemate you are, she would just ignore you and stare solemnly at the stamped paper
- >sometimes, she cries herself to sleep
- >she hardly leaves her room anymore...
- >imagine, being told that even though you did the best you could with what you had, and had practiced and trained your skill for years-
- >that you just weren't good enough
- >it's a sad slump that Actias has gotten in...
- >and now, you realize, the blame falls on you
- >you had taken her in to auditions, even when you had the hypothesis of her being rejected for squeaking
- >that's why you never let her go
- >...But it's been a week since then, and Actias is still moping about, albeit in a more depressed and bitter fashion
- >and you cannot stand to see Actias with this kind of attitude any longer;
- >alone, your thoughts cannot sway the stubborn mare
- >but, if her other friends were to attempt to convince her as a group, well...
- >and so, your plan was set into motion...
- >It's sunny out
- >ugh...
- >...
- >...why did it have to be so sunny today? Couldn't it just rain all the time? It's more soothing that way
- >and of course Anonymous would pick today of all days to go to the park
- >(why were you rejected? Why, why, why? Squeaking is no different than singing...)
- >Anonymous takes a turn toward a secluded table, and the two of you sit down
- >...you really wish it was raining right now
- >and suddenly, four different mothponies jump out of the bushes around you
- >recovering from your near heart-attack, you sit up and recognize the moths around you;
- >Meisa, Caramel, Virgo, and Acteus (you're brother showed up?)
- "Alright, what's going on here?"
- >your voice is less sad or surprised, and more angry
- >your brother is the first to answer
- >"Anon decided you needed to get out more, and what better place than the park that you used to sing so much at?"
- >Meisa steps up
- >"Don't you remember the times we had here? You would sing for us, and occasionally dance, I would buy ensembles for you to wear for fun..."
- >Virgo's turn
- >"Yes, and we all enjoyed your performances. They might be low-budget-(ow!)"
- >Meisa tries to look inconspicuous as she removes her back hoof from Virgo's leg
- >"...But your singing brings it all together in a coherent way."
- >"Yeah! And everyone loves singing, especially yours!" Caramel exclaims
- >...
- >...is it true?
- >do they still love your singing?
- >even if you WERE rejected from the town choir for having no singing talent?
- "...I... Wasn't aware that you still liked my...'Squeaking'."
- >"Of course we do, sis. And does it really matter?"
- >what?
- "Of course it matters! How will I prove that I can actually sing?"
- >Caramel speaks up again
- >"Actias, you've already proven your abilities. Multiple times, in fact."
- >...
- "But the auditions administrator said th-"
- >"Who cares what he said? He doesn't even know you like we do."
- >and then, it dawns on you
- >your friends have stuck by you since you first began your little excursion into the auditory arts
- >they know your ups and downs
- >they know how much you've practiced
- >and they know your love of singing is only rivaled by your love of light
- "...I..."
- >they lean inwards
- "...You're right. I... I'm sorry. It's just that, I've been trying to get a career in singing for years, and I've done so many vocal exercises, and sung so many songs..."
- "...And it sort of hurt me. But now, I've realized that it doesn't matter. I've been happy with myself this whole time, and I didn't even know it..."
- >"That's what we've been try-(ow!)"
- >"(Virgo! Shh, you'll kill the mood!)"
- >you ignore Virgo's comment and sigh, a large weight lifted off your chest
- >"...So. Anybody up for a song?"
- >Anonymous breaks the short silence
- >you've practically forgotten he was there
- >after THAT heart-attack, you agree to a short performance
- >you squeak your heart out, remembering the peculiar tune of "Camptown Races"...
- -
- >After the heartfelt apology and well-done performance, you had headed home
- >Anon was to stay over at Acteus's house, he said something about dwarves or something, you don't remember
- >you open your door, and sitting on your desk was that fateful little note;
- >[REJECTED]
- >but it doesn't bother y-
- >hold on, what's this letter written on?
- >is this- is this linen?
- >...well, there's no point in just throwing away such a delicacy
- >That night, you lay with a belly full of defeat
- >defeat, you learned, tastes pretty good
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