Trixie Self-Insert

>"Trixie, why don't you come sit with us?"
>Twilight looks past her cluster of friends and stares at the blue girl sitting alone on the other end of the table.
>Without even looking back, Trixie proceeds to eat her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
>She doesn't say a word.
>"We have space open." Twilight still continues, wanting to seem as friendly and welcoming as possible.
>"Why's she gotta be so edgy?" Rainbow Dash whispers not-quietly-enough to Applejack.
>Trixie feels a subtle twinge in her spine when she hears this, but shows no indication of having heard anything, as usual.
>"Do you think she's listening to music?" Fluttershy suggests. "There could be an earbud on the other side of her head."
>"She'd still hear us." Twilight stands up from her seat to walk over to Trixie.
>Trixie can already make out Twilight approaching her out of the corner of her eye.
>She internally braces for the awkward conversation to come.
>"Hey."
>Trixie doesn't respond to Twilight until after she sits down next to her.
>"Oh. Hey." Trixie forces something out.
>Twilight leans forward to get a better glimpse of Trixie's face, just so it's more like she's facing her head on. "Why are you sitting here all alone?"
>Trixie stares at her sandwich, losing her appetite already.
>But she doesn't budge.
>"I guess..." Half of her is battling with the other half about whether or not she should be honest to Twilight.
>"Hm?" Twilight takes a short glimpse back to her friends.
>"I guess that I'm not having the best of days, is all."
>Twilight takes note of Trixie's lack of talking in third person.
>It isn't hard to tell that the girl isn't feeling herself right now.
>"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that." Twilight further softens the tone of her voice. "Would you like to come sit with us?"
>Us.
>Trixie already separated it in her head the difference between Twilight's group of friends and herself.
>On so many occasions, the mane six have done so much to not only make people like them, but demonstrate just how many things they are capable of when they work together.
>The magic of friendship; something Trixie is realizing just how badly she underestimated.
>All of those times she ventured out into the world in seek of accomplishment, going about the journey alone.
>Trying to learn how to stand on her own before she was too old and thick headed to learn how to strengthen herself when she's without a companion.
>Figuring out how to stand her own ground before the world hit her like a freight train.
>She never imagined that having friends helping her would make her stronger. It was always assumed that she would be more dependent on others.
>How could Trixie be so wrong?
>She never thought in such a way.
>And now it's the present time.
>Twilight had learned things her way while Trixie had leaned things her own way.
>And the proof is all around; thick in the air.
>Trying to be great on your own really doesn't bear the fruit of success.
>What Twilight did was the right way all along. Making friends and having a shoulder to lean on.
>Something Trixie always avoided to keep from softening herself up.
>What a terrible mistake.
>"Uh... Trixie?" Twilight waves her hand in Trixie's line of sight.
>"Oh, uh. Nah, I'm fine..."
>If Trixie were to go over there with the mane six, the difference would only feel more prevalent.
>They have a bond between one another, something Trixie can't just get immediately.
>She's never tried to really connect with anyone, thinking that it was worth being so lonely most of the time.
>That it would pay off.
>But then came the battle of the bands, and the friendship games, and pretty much everything else that provided insight and comparison between Trixie and the mane six.
>Trixie always thought that her hard work made her the greatest in school.
>Nowadays, she can't imagine why she would be so deluded into thinking that way, but it was still the fact of the matter.
>She thought she was the one who would end up saving everyone.
>The one who would be looked up to as a hero... but it didn't happen.
>Something went wrong. What Trixie had to show for her aspirations just... wasn't enough.
>Didn't make the cut.
>Then Twilight simply swooped in and defeated all of those magical beings like it was nothing.
>As though she had something as powerful as plot armor.
>It just... didn't feel fair.
>Trixie thought that all of the years she spent building herself up was going to do the trick.
>And Trixie was... wrong... to put it lightly.
>And now there is today, where Twilight, with all of her power, friends, popularity, charisma, and everything else she has obtained that Trixie yearned for but never truly had, wants her to come sit with them.
>All that's left in Trixie is spite and the stubborn will to keep trying the things in the only ways she knows.
>She can't help it any more.
>She's lonely, and trying to stay strong is the only way to get herself to become strong enough to get over it.
>"You sure?" Twilight asks. "You look kinda... lonely over here by yourself."
>And Twilight's right.
>Trixie is very lonely.
>But to a degree where she's... addicted to it at this point.
>That's the only way to describe it so it feels like it makes sense.
>The words themselves seem silly, but the feeling they try to illustrate is all too real.
>It's like there's no hope in quickly trying to make new friends at this point; it's too late.
>Twilight got that top status, and Trixie never even came close.
>It's over.
>And all Trixie can do about it is sit at the lunch table and think about what went wrong.
>What she could have done differently.
>Who she could have... gotten to know.
>What she missed out on.
>"Are... you okay?" Twilight's voice grows increasingly concerned.
>Only now does Trixie notice her vision clouding up from the tears struggling to stay in her eyes.
>She prays that Twilight didn't notice yet, and that this conversation can just end now.
>She doesn't want to deal with this.
>"I'm fine." Trixie lies before sniffling. "I just held back a sneeze. That's all."
>That's the excuse she's always used.
>The only one that has proven to be believable... from all of Trixie's experiences.
>"Well, you can come sit with us if you like."
>Twilight's voice alone reminds Trixie of the gesture of someone reaching out a helping hand to someone who isn't feeling their best.
>It just feels too natural to the situation, and that's the thing that makes saying no just a little bit harder for Trixie.
>"I'll be fine, really." Trixie insists.
>Twilight waits for a couple of seconds in case Trixie changes her mind. But her hopes aren't answered. "Alright. Well, we're still over there. Just uh, well, you know." She concludes to a sulking Trixie.
>And with that, Twilight walks back over towards her side of the table, slightly shaking her head to indicate what Trixie's answer was.
>Trixie lets out a sigh of both relief and sadness after she realizes she can go back to eating the sandwich she's no longer hungry for.
>She wishes she could just collect herself enough to go over to that side of the table. To not decline any offers for new friendships.
>But the problem is that there's nothing Trixie can think to say anymore.
>She's grown too used to being alone.
>It's not anyone's fault, other than the blame being relevant to the actions of Trixie herself.
>At least, that's how it feels.
>Trixie wishes everyone can at least ignore her moping until she pulls herself up by her boots one day and get some motivation to electrify her brain again like it had back when she was at the top of her game.
>Before she saw how much better Twilight was doing than her.
>Before she got an accurate comparison between what she thought was glory and what actual glory looked like.
>Before Trixie found out just how wrong she always was.
>So she sits and dwells on the past, probably making plans to write about it at some point. To get whatever words she can out to herself about it.
>Oh look, lunch is over.
>Trixie is the first to stand up to leave. The rest of the girls sitting at the same table as her were too invested in the conversation they were having.
>"Oh hey!" Lavender Lace approaches Trixie with a piece of paper in her hands.
>Trixie already knows what's on the paper.
>"I uh... just wanted you to know that I have everything we need for our show next week. Ordered a couple of hoops on Ebay to set on fire."
>Jumping through hoops. How original.
>No one has ever done that before.
>In multiple senses of the phrase, Trixie has grown tired of jumping through so many hoops for so long.
>Fuchsia blush appears Lavender. "And this set of hoops won't burn away like the last few."
>"Um..." Trixie can't think of an easy way to say it. "How do you girls feels about doing the show without me?"
>It's as though everyone in the hallway heard her.
>Every head in sight turns.
>Do they even care this much when Trixie's on stage?
>They've always appeared to, but Trixie can't be sure whether or not she's truly reached anyone at all.
>"What do you mean? You're... the leader." Fuchsia reminds Trixie, already sounding let down.
>Trixie sighs and stares at the floor in front of her feet. "I'm... I'm sorry. It's just... I'm just not feeling this anymore. You know?"
>The two girls shrug. "What do you mean?" Lavender asks.
>"Well... Trixie is pretty sure you know about how much Twilight and her friends can do nowadays."
>"Yeah, so?" Fuchsia responds. "They've sure done some heavy duty stuff on stage and behind the scenes. And a lot of it saved the school a couple of times."
>"Thanks for the reminder." Trixie tries not to shudder.
>"Well, what's wrong?" Lavender places a hand on Trixie's shoulder.
>Trixie sniffles once again. "I just... there's no way I can compare to that."
>"Whaaaaaat?" Lavender questions in a tone that tries its hardest to lift Trixie's broken spirit.
>"So what if they can do things we can't? So what if they have legit magic on their side? That doesn't mean we can't be great too." Fuchsia joins in.
>Trixie knows why Twilight has magic while she doesn't. Twilight has friendship. Real friendship. Real passion and feelings.
>Meanwhile, Trixie only has... colleagues. Acquaintances.
>"But here's the thing." Trixie tries her best to make them understand as the other students walk around pretending not to listen in.
>"Hm?" Fuchsia leans in as well.
>"The thing that motivated Trixie was her own arrogance." Trixie feels a little bit more herself reminiscing on how she used to be until she remembers that the past is over. "And I... I could do things because I believed I could."
>"You mean... Trixie could do things she believed she could." Lavender tries to her Trixie to talk in her confident third-person self.
>"But I can't anymore." Trixie continues down the same path anyway. "Not after knowing what true greatness looks like! Not after seeing just where I stand in the spectrum!"
>"But we can still amaze people too!" Fuchsia tells Trixie.
>"Not like how Twilight does."
>"But we're not even competing with her! This isn't the Battle of the Bands!"
>"That doesn't matter. The sole thing that kept me going through the show was the... my silly, silly little belief that I was the best."
>The other two can't think of a way to respond. The other students continue to spectate from all directions, newer and newer faces as everyone passes by.
>"Listen, just do the show without me. I'll find a way to make up for it."
>"But... the show has to go on." Lavender tells Trixie.
>"And you can do it without me."
>"It needs to go on WITH you!"
>"But I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I have no confidence left. Only a mindless drive that burns as I live day by day."
>The other two girls soon agree that there's no getting through to Trixie at this time.
>"Okay, well we'll figure things out, then alright? But like... those hoops were expensive, you know..." Lavender brings up.
>Trixie spins around without warning and struts away as she feels her face contort.
>She makes it to her next class before her tears cloud up her eyes too much to see where she's going.
>Every day with this shit.
>At least she got some more attention from the other students this time.
Fuck it, I'm done writing this one.

Continued: http://pastebin.com/sGBpztrc