Another successful show. Another fulfilling day was just about to wrap up. The Wonderbolts soared into the sky, showcasing their last performance before the end of the show. They could hear the crowd chant for them, showering them with praise and applause.

“Wonderbolts! Wonderbolts! Wonderbolts!”

Their show in Las Pegasus was deemed one of their best performances. The ponies ate up the flying trio’s act in awe and splendor. The cheers echoed loudly through the starry skies, audible even through the piercing sound of wind.

It was time to wrap the show up. With one last performance, the team split up and arched themselves through the air. At blinding speed, Soarin, Spitfire, and Fleetfoot flew towards each other. One wrong move, one delayed motion, and they would crash into each other. With skill and precision, the three waited until they were inches away from crashing, looping over each other and flying with their stomachs pointed at the sky.

This finale sent the crowd in an uproar. The announcer of the event could barely get a word out without the fans shouting at the top of their lungs.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, give another round of applause for the one, the only, WONDERBOLTS!”

The trio flew over the crowds head, jet-like sounds ripping through the airs.

“And there you have it! The once-in-a-lifetime event has come to a close. Do not despair, for we have big news! Tonight, twenty lucky winners will get a chance to meet the Wonderbolts backstage!” The crowd was sent into another uproar, excitement pouring out of them.

“Yes, I know. Exciting news! Right here, right now, you have a shot at getting to see the glory of the greatest flyers in all of Equestria!”

The crowd swarmed the announcer for an opportunity to win such an honored prize. They would be able to meet their favorite Wonderbolt in person. It’s the grand dream of everypony, and only twenty lucky ponies would receive that honor.

The Wonderbolts landed close to their prep stations, hoof-bumping each others.

“Amazing show tonight, team!” Fleetfoot applauded. “We really outdid our last performance.”

“All thanks to you, Fleetfoot,” Spitfire complimented as she pulled the head of her bodysuit off. “We really need to invest in some better suits. These things a little too tight and sweaty after a show! I could barely take the headpiece off!”

“I don’t think they’re that bad,” said Fleetfoot. “It’s very comfortable for me, and the wind resistance makes what we just did a lot easier.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Spitfire wiped the sweat from her brow. “I still find it amazing how you thought up such a daring stunt that we actually pulled off. Those three weeks of crashing into each other actually payed off!”

Fleetfoot put her front hoof on the back of Spitfire and smiled. “Told you it would!”

“To be honest with you, I actually thought we were going to crash into each other!” Soarin said, shaking off the excess sweat dripping down his face. “Man, what a mess that would have been.”

“Yeah, right! There was no way anypony as good as us would ever crash on a stunt like that!” Spitfire boasted. “Well, I don’t know about you, Soarin. You have gotten rusty over the past few months.”

“Still better than you,” Soarin taunted, eliciting giggles from Fleetfoot. The bickering between Soarin and Spitfire halted when the three heard a gurgling sound. Soarin held his stomach and chuckled softly.

“Say, when are we supposed to be back for the backstage thing?” he asked.

“I believe it starts in about thirty minutes,” Fleetfoot answered.

“Plenty of time!” Soaring hastily took off his Wonderbolt outfit and tossed it into his laundry bin. “I’m going to go grab me something to eat before this event. Don’t want to answer questions with an empty stomach. Anypony care to join me?”

“Yeah, give me a minute!” Spitfire said, taking off her suit as well. “Fleetfoot, you coming?”

“No, I was the smart one and actually ate before we performed,” Fleetfoot teased. “I’m going to stay behind and prep up for the lucky ponies we’ll be talking to tonight.”

“Suit yourself!” Spitfire playfully saluted to her partner and wadded up her suit, placing it in her bin. “We’ll be back shortly.”

“Yeah, so don’t get into too much trouble while we’re gone!” Soarin added, receiving a smug glance from Spitfire

“Says the pony who got caught trying to steal extra apple fritters from the cafeteria.”

“Hey! I already told everypony that they shortchanged me! It’s not stealing if you were given less than what you were supposed to get!”

“Whatever you say, Soarin. Whatever you say…”

The two continued their conversation as they walked out the prep station. Fleetfoot smiled softly and went about her business. She needed to be fresh and presentable for the ponies. She wasn’t going to let her team upstage her in everything.

“And you really think that makes you better?”

Spitfire raised an eyebrow at Soarin as they walked around, looking for a food stand. The crowd of ponies all eagerly tried to gain their attention, but their destination was set, and nopony was going to stop that goal.

“Of course it does!” Soarin boasted. “I’d like to see you swerve around a forest of trees without crashing into them.”

“Kinda like you did practicing to even get that good? Keep in mind, you were bedridden for a good two months because you broke your wittle wings.”

Soarin blushed in embarrassment. He hated being reminded of that moment. “Well… at least I tried to get better at it!”

Spitfire patted him on the back, smiling wryly. “Yeah, and all it took was two hospital visits and us having to reteach you flying after a traumatic breakdown. Good job!”

“Just… oh, shut up and hurry! I wanna get something to eat before our fans arrive.”

Spitfire chuckled at his discomfort. It was fun tormenting the supposed best flier on the team, especially if it knocked him down a peg. Trying to dodge the crowd of adoring fans, they pressed on to one of the many stands. One in particular caught Soarin’s eyes. He practically began to drool at the sight of what he would potentially purchase.

“Oh, don’t tell me…” Spitfire put a hoof to her face as Soarin walked towards the stand like an eager school filly.

“Deep-fried apple fritters…” Soarin muttered these words mindlessly, the scent enticing him to follow. Spitfire knew she couldn’t do anything to stop him once he reacted to his cravings

“Okay, fine! But if you die of a heart attack from eating all these deep-fried dishes, I’m not coming to your funeral.”

“That’s fine, Granny!”

The two made their way towards the stand. Spitfire looked at the menu, observing her options. Most of the food on the list was heavy in fats, and unlike Soarin, she was cautious about what she put into her stomach.

“Hey, booth mare, I’ll take two deep-fried apple fritters,” Soarin requested.

“Wait, that’s it? All you’re eating are apple fritters?”

“I don’t need much to hold me over.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes, looking over the menu once again. “I’ll just take half a hay, lettuce, and tomato sandwich, thank you.”

The mare smiled widely, pressing her hooves against her cheeks. She was withholding her squeals, though they exited her lips anyways.

“Um, did you get our orders?” Spitfire asked.

“Oh, I’m sooo sorry!” the booth mare responded. “It’s just… it’s… I’m seeing the Wonderbolts up close and personal!”

“Yes, I’m sure that this must be a big thing for you, but we really need this in a hurry!”

“Oh yeah, that’s right! You two are going to be talking to twenty lucky ponies soon!” She swiftly grabbed the ingredients for their orders and began prepping the food. “Sorry, I’ll get on that right away!”

“We appreciate that,” Soarin replied. The mare started working on the fritters first, lowering them into the grease. Soarin’s mouth watered as he heard the sizzling of his snack. She then put a half loaf of bread on the counter and began to slice a piece off of it, cutting it into a diagonal.

“I just want to say, you guys are amazing!” she complimented while putting the toppings on the sandwich. “I’ve listened to all of your shows on the radio before, and that alone was amazing. But to actually see it, first hoof!”

Her flattering words warmed the two’s hearts; while she was finishing up the sandwich, she sighed loudly in disappointment. “I wish I was lucky enough to win those backstage passes. What I would kill to spend at least twenty minutes with you guys!”

“Well, maybe you’ll have better luck next time,” Spitfire consoled. “Remember, we do many shows, so you might catch us at times. But I tell you what, we have time to answer one question, so shoot one out at us.”

“Really?”

Spitfire nodded in confirmation.

“Wow… gee, really putting me on the spot here.” She tended to their food while thinking up a question, pulling the fritters out of the grease. “Okay, I think I have one. You know that risky move move you two performed to finish off the night? You know, the one where it looked like you were going to collide with each other?”

“Oh yeah! That was a pretty killer one, wasn’t it?” Soarin exclaimed with pride, making the mare blush and giggle.

“It sure was. Anyway, which of you two thought of the move, or was it a collaborative effort between you two?”

“Oh no, that’s a misunderstanding,” Spitfire corrected. “We didn’t come up with that move.”

“Really? So who did?”

“Well, our teammate Fleetfoot.”

The mare looked at her in confusion. Her lack of knowledge of their partner concerned both Spitfire and Soarin.

“Well, tell her or him that what he or she came up with was brilliant!” She handed out the food to the ponies, smiling widely. “Thanks for answering my question though! That will be five bits for the sandwich and twelve for the fritters.”

The two tossed their bits on the table, giving a small smile to hide their disappointment.

“Thanks for your patronage! I can’t wait to see more of your shows!”

“Yeah… thanks.”

The two turned and walked away, Soarin immediately eating his apples coated in death, as Spitfire often called it. Spitfire didn’t eat her sandwich; she instead held it in her wings and observed the audience enjoying the Las Pegasus event. There were posters everywhere, showcasing the three in the infamous print of them. However, even with the knowledge that all three of them existed, most of the ponies only held onto merchandise with her and Soarin. She would see kids wearing masks featuring their faces. Sometimes, they would overhear the older fans reaction to them.

“Man, that Spitfire is amazing. One day, I’ll be just like her!”

“That Soarin is really good, and really handsome. I’d be lucky to find a stallion as handsome as him.”

“Eh, they’re alright, but too cocky. Bet those two wouldn’t fare well against the Shadowbolts.”

While not all of them were positive statements, Soarin and Spitfire were generally the highlight of attention.

And then there was Fleetfoot, a victim of neglect. A shadow to their fame. The one that contributed just as much as any of them, and yet received none of the attention. This fact depressed Spitfire.

“Yo, Spits,” Soarin called out with his mouth ful of apple fritters. “What’s eating you?”

“Nothing, just thinking, that’s all,” she answered, finally taking a bite into her sandwich. “Well, best to eat this before they show up.”

The three Wonderbolts greeted their fans, who were absolutely bonkers over them. The twenty fillies and colts lucky enough to enter took advantage of the situation. They took pictures with their favorite Wonderbolts, exchanged jokes with each other, and even let some of them wear their clean outfits. All throughout the event, Spitfire looked at Fleetfoot, hoping that others would show her just as much attention as they were getting.

Didn’t happen. Fleetfoot might have gotten a few questions, but none at the same level of excitement as Spitfire and Soarin were receiving. Eventually, Soarin took notice of this, too. His light and bubbly attitude sank once he saw how little attention one of their best flyers was getting.

“Um, ladies, if you would excuse me for a moment, I need to go talk to one of my teammates!” Soarin requested.

“Sure thing, Soarin.” The mares sighed. He smiled and blew them a kiss before running towards Spitfire, leaning towards her ear.

“Hey, we should talk before we start taking questions,” he whispered into her ears. “Meet me in the break room before it starts.”

She nodded and shooed him off, returning to her fans while keeping an eye on Fleetfoot. Oddly enough, there was no remorse on her face; no signs of sadness. Fleetfoot simply smiled and waved as if somepony was to give her a passing glance. She seemed… complacent.

The crowd settled down and headed towards their seats to have their questions answered. While the eager ponies clammered amongst each other, Soarin met up with Spitfire at the agreed location.

“So, what does the bachelor stallion want to talk to me about?” Spitfire taunted half-heartedly.

“I’m pretty sure you know why I called you back here,” Soarin began. “And I figured out why you were so glum on our way back. It’s about Fleetfoot. Am I wrong?”

Spitfire sighed, looking up at Soarin with sadness. “No… you’re not wrong. I’ve noticed it, too. Strange how we never even thought about it until recently.”

“Yeah.” Soarin scratched the top of his mane with a front hoof. “But what really gets me is how cool she is with it. It’s like, she doesn’t know she’s not…”

“Yeah, I know. Still, how could she be cool with us being as famous, and not her? She practically has no fans!”

“Heh te e…” Soarin tried to silence Spitfire, hearing hoofsteps. It was Fleetfoot, walking toward the break room to fetch the two.

“Wow, what are you guys trying to do back here, make out?” Fleetfoot taunted, sticking her tongue out.

“What!” Spitfire practically gagged at that notion. “I wouldn’t make out with Poorin if he was the last pony on earth!”

Soarin scrunched his face and kicked at the ground. “I’d at least attempt once with you, ya jerk,” he muttered.

“Suuure…” Fleetfoot rolled her eyes and laughed. “Well, you two will have to lock lips another day; we have a group of ponies who are eager to ask some questions!”

“Yeah…” Spitfire sighed. “We have ponies eager for us.”

With a smile, Fleetfoot turned around and trotted towards the booth. The other two looked at each other, guilt apparent on their faces.

“Well, time to do this as usual,” Spitfire glumly stated. Soarin just frowned and followed Fleetfoot to the crowd of cheering ponies. The three sat in their seats, ready to answer anything.

Or, at least two of them were ready for anything.

“Alright, fillies and gentlecolts! Who’s ready to ask some questions?”

For a member with the least popularity, Fleetfoot sure knew how to rile up a crowd. Though, it could have really been the hype from the event holding all this together.

“Well, for the next thirty minutes, we’ll be here answering all you beautiful ponies’ intriguing questions!” Soarin chimed in, sporting his happy go lucky smile. The crowd seemed to be going ballistic.

“Calm down, guys,” Spitfire encouraged. “Can’t answer anypony if you’re all screaming at the top of your lungs.”

The crowd gradually dimmed, making it easy for the Wonderbolts to hear better. It was time for the usual, same old questions again.

“Alright, time to get started.” Soarin pointed at a random pony at the back. “How about you, the one with the grey mane.”

The pegasus stood up and began to speak. “Yeah, I have a question for Spitfire. I heard you were a very tough trainer at the academy. Should that discourage me from actually applying?”

Oh Celestia, this question again… “Well, I will say this: we don’t play around at the academy. You come to prove to us why you should become a Wonderbolt, and see if you have the skills to be one. However, nothing should discourage you from trying. You’ll never know if you have what it takes if you don’t fill out that application!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Just next time, try asking something that I haven’t answered a thousand times before. “Next question.” A white hoof raised in the air. “Yes?”

“Well, I just find it amusing that everytime I see Soarin around, his diet consist of mainly apple treats. If you’re a team, why don’t you prevent him from eating them all the time?”

Spitfire sighed and chuckled slightly. “Yeah, despite our best effort, we can’t pry him away from that stuff. It’s like some kind of addiction to him. I’m really considering taking him to rehab!”

“Hey, I’m not that addicted to it. I can stop eating it anytime I…”

“Apple pie…”

“WHERE!”

Fleetfoot chuckled at her false cry of pies, causing Soarin to blush in embarrassment and the crowd to burst into laughter.

The questions continued to roll, and as usual, they were mainly directed to Soarin and Spitfire. Fleetfoot would have a chance to chime in with a quick answer or a short quip, mainly at the dismay of Soarin, but she was never directly asked a question. This discouraged Spitfire and Soarin to no end, but they noticed something about Fleetfoot.

Throughout the entire event, she was smiling.

“Okay, we have time for one more question,” Spitfire stated. “Anypony else have something to say?” She scoped out the crowd, looking for anyone willing to ask a final question. “Anypony? Come on, don’t be shy.”

The ponies remained silent. They had tired out all of the questions they could possibly ask them.

“Well, I guess that wraps this up then. Thanks for taking interest in….”

“Um… wait a moment, ma’am…”

A light, childlike voice echoed through the crowd, cutting Spitfire off. She looked around for the source of the voice, finally seeing the small filly sitting in the lap of an older mare.

“Why, hello there sweetie!” Spitfire chimed. “You have a question?”

“Actually, yes. But, can I ask this question to Miss Fleetfoot?”

Spitfire and Soarin’s eyes widened at the little filly’s request. This was the first time Fleetfoot had been actively sought by anypony in the crowd, and it was by a pinto pegasus.

“Why of course,” Fleetfoot responded with a smile. “Ask away.”

“Well, I really like you, and I think you’re an awesome flyer. In fact, I think you’re one of the coolest on the team. Yet, you don’t ever get as much recognition as the others. Does this ever make you upset?”

Spitfire and Soarin frowned and looked at Fleetfoot. The question they were too scared to ask was being asked by a little filly, and now it was going to be answered. After a deep sigh, Fleetfoot opened her lips and began to speak.

“No.”

“No?” Spitfire responded accidentally, causing Fleetfoot to toggle her goggles on her forehead and laugh.

“Of course not. You see, young filly, being a Wonderbolt is more than becoming popular, receiving love and fame. It’s about the ponies you fly with, and how you build a relationship with them. It’s about doing what you love, soaring through the air without a care in the world. I could care less about being famous. In fact, if nopony ever gives me recognition for what I do ever again, I would be fine, and you wanna know why?”

The filly nodded, wonder filling her eyes. Fleetfoot smiled widely and turned towards her teammates.

“Because at the very least, I’d be flying with my two best friends. Even if one is a pain in the neck, and the other is an apple addict…”

“Am not.”

“...I’ll always be happy to fly with them, anytime and anyplace.”

Spitfire and Soarin sat in silence, thinking over what she had just said and coming to a realization. Fleetfoot wasn’t settling for what she had. She wasn’t in their shadows or being complacent.

She was doing what she loved, and shining brighter than any of them.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” Soarin said. “It’s been fun talking to all of you. I hope to see you all again in the near future!”

The crowd cheered and stomped their hooves against the ground one last time before eventually dying out and leaving. Fleetfoot watched as all of them left, noticing the little pegasus turning back at her and smiling. A nice event had come to a close, and they had to clean up the results.

“Well guys, we got some cleaning to do before we go,” Fleetfoot said, turning towards them..

...Or would have if they were there. Both of their seats were empty, causing Fleetfoot to groan.

“Oh, out of all the times they bail on me!” She sighed and began folding the chairs, beginning to believe they would have to do the jobs herself. Nevertheless, she took the task on with a smile, whistling to herself as she did so.

“Okay, but make it quick!”

Fleetfoot’s attention was grabbed by an unfamiliar voice, and two sets of hooves pattering on the ground.

“Yes, big sis!” That was a voice she couldn’t forget. The voice of a young pegasus as she ran up to Fleetfoot, holding a poster in her hand.

“Um, hello,” she greeted, softly smiling up at Fleetfoot.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you. You must be very busy. It’s just that little my little sister really wanted to get you to sign her poster.”

“Is that so?” Fleetfoot looked down at the giddy filly as she twisted and turned.

“No matter what the other ponies say about the others, you’ll always be the best to me.”

Fleetfoot smiled softly, rubbing the filly’s mane. “Well thank you, little girl. Of course I’ll sign this for you! Do you or your sister by chance have a…”

Before she could even get her question out, the filly grabbed a pen from her little side bag and pulled it out for her.

“Ah, well weren’t we prepared.”

“I always keep one on me, just in case I get a chance to meet somepony like you.”

“That’s really smart of you.” Fleetfoot grabbed the poster and began writing on it. “Who am I making this out to?”

“Scribbles.”

“Thanks.” Fleetfoot continued writing on the poster, Scribbles looking up with anticipation. “Okay, how’s this?”

Scribbles looked at the poster, reading the cursive words written on it.

Little Scribbles, never let popularity, power, or fame corrupt you. You have the potential to be anything you want to be if you set your mind to it. Keep your head up, be the best filly you can be, and always remember what’s most important in your life.

To Scribbles, with Love

-Fleetfoot

“It’s perfect!” Scribbles ran up to Fleetfoot and wrapped her hooves around her, hugging her tightly.

“I think you’ve bothered her enough. We really should get going before our parents worry about where we are,” Scribble’s sister called out.

“Okay, big sis!” Scribble ran towards her sister and walked outside of the building, waving at Fleetfoot.

Fleetfoot smiled and waved back, happy to have made the day of one of her fans.

“Hey, Fleetfoot!”

The enjoyment was ruined once she heard the voices of the two who dumped all the workload on her.

“Well, well, look who finally came back to help! You better be glad I didn’t get much done already, or else I would have been…”

When she turned to look at the two, she noticed something different. They were both wearing their full suit with the headpiece down. However, their hair was painted white, and they were sporting her signature goggles. Fleetfoot couldn’t contain her laughter.

“Okay, so you two clowns left to try and dress as me!” Fleetfoot laughed, holding her chest with her hooves. “Well, I can tell you that’s a step in the right direction. Looking better, definately.”

“Well why wouldn’t we?” Spitfire replied. “After all, we are your biggest fans!”

Fleetfoot gave an amused smile. “Really, huh?”

“Of course!” Soarin chimed in. “I mean, you are the one who invented our best stunt to date. If it wasn’t for you, we would have been sitting around trying to think of some last-second hairbrained stunt.”

“Well, that is true,” Fleetfoot agreed. “Still, you guys didn’t have to go out of your way to show your appreciation. I already knew you guys thought this way.”

“Really?” Soarin responded. “If that’s the case, do you think I could get a refund on these goggles? I mean, they’re way too tight, and I can barely see out of them. I think some dog slobbered on the inside of these…”

Soarin received a jab in the stomach by Spitfire. “Still, we don’t say it enough. You deserve every single praise you get, Miss Fleetfoot.”

Spitfire playfully bowed to Fleetfoot. Even if she knew that her team appreciated her, the fact that they would go out of their way to prove it like that was heartwarming. If her teammates weren’t there to tease her about it, she would have cried then and there.

“Thanks, guys,” Fleetfoot replied. “If you insist on staying in the Fleetfoot fanclub, then by all means do so. That’ll make you two the second and third members so far.”

Spitfire and Soarin looked at her in a puzzled manner. “What?”

Fleetfoot didn’t answer their question, and instead picked up a nearby broomstick with her wings. “Come on fanboys! We got some cleaning to do and I wanna get this done as soon as possible.”

Spitfire and Soarin just shrugged and helped Fleetfoot out. It was moments like these that Fleetfoot enjoyed; the moments she would give her career up for. At the end of the day, she made her friends happy.

And no amount of fame could take that away from her.

Author's Notes:

Fame means nothing if you have no one to enjoy your time with...