>Sure, you should be thinking of what’s to come on this senior trip.
>Sure, you should be thinking of all the monuments that you’ll see in the capital and all the other breathtaking sights that you’ll be seeing.
>So why…
>Why can’t you focus on anything but her?
>You are Anonymous, and you are completely rapt in her laughter from the seat behind yours.
>To be frank, the giggles make you want to smile and shake your head in disgust at the same time.
>You want to smile because her giggles send shivers down your spine and give you a sense of vicarious joy in knowing that she’s happy.
>But you also want to cringe because you know who made her laugh.
>A stupid cunt in all senses.
>He’s barely fit for service, himself having failed tenth grade math two times as of yet.
>His name is Shining Armor, and he’s been getting on your nerves ever since this trip began.
>He’s been trying to make conversation with you since the moment you arrived at the airport.
>Stupid cunt couldn’t figure out that your monotone and curt responses meant that you were never in the mood to talk to him, and yet he always tries to act like your friend.
>And that smile that he gives you whenever you look back at the back row of the van…
>That fucking smile.
>He knows.
>He has to know at this point.
>He doesn’t deserve her, not after what he did.
>Mi Amore Cadenza.
>Your little Cadance.
>...
>No, not like that.
>You don’t even see her in the sexual way, but as someone to get to know eventually and settle down with.
>She exudes that aura when you two talk, the feeling that everything will be just fine if you stick by her side.
>Sure, you’re far from perfect, but you’re leagues ahead of that stupid cunt she seems so enamored by.
>You know full well how he views women.
>Fucker even shared nudes with you from his previous relationship as it was still going on.
>Sure, you knew that Redheart was less than loyal at one point, but an eye for an— 
>A set of two voices from behind bursting out in song tears you from your brooding session.
>They’re matching the song playing on the radio,
>Cadance sits in the middle, herself flanked by Shining Armor and her best friend, Fleur Dis Lee.
>Some trending shit by some ‘big’ industry name, of whom will probably be a meth addict in five years time.
>There’s no substance in the lyrics of course, but they seem nearly euphoric during the impromptu singing.
>Another sense of vicarious joy runs through you, of which forces a smile and chuckle out of you.
>They catch your eyes and return the smile before beginning to do little shimmies in their seats.
>Chuckling at the two, you shake your head while turning your attention back to the windows.
>Or, more namely, the beautiful sights that lay beyond.
>Rolling fields of grass and wheat, rustic cabins and barns holding livestock, horses and cattle grazing peacefully…
>Ever since the senior trip began in earnest in a few days back, you’ve been enamored by these sights which are nearly constant in the countryside.
>It helps keep your mind off the stupid cunt.
>...
>Aaand there go you brooding about it all again.
>Shaking your head, you try and focus on the people around you.
>Classmates, friends, and fellow students of Canterlot Preparatory School.
>Mostly girls, but you’re not one to complain.
>Speaking of which…
>The van begins to shake with the amount of shimmying girls within, all beginning to sing along as another generic song blares out through the speakers.
>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BIGo9BQRomY&t=1m5s
>You chuckle yet again, though your face soon sours as something overtakes you.
>It’s a mix of silent fear and panic, your blood now rushing.
>It’s then when you realize just how alien everything is.
>Thousands of miles away from home in an unfamiliar state.
>No cozy room to return to, nor a computer to await your return tonight.
>With the heartwarming music now coming in as shrill screaming to your panicked mind, you notice the destination within distant eyesight.
>The Hilton Hotel.
>You produce your bag from underneath your seat and clutch it close to your chest.
>Not so close as to make you seem scared, but close enough to give you a small amount of comfort.
>Shaking your head and rapidly tapping your foot against the floor, you reach inside your pocket to produce a coin.
>A challenge coin to be more specific.
>’OUR COMMUNITY SALUTES’
>A familiar action begins to ebb away at your random panic, yourself counting each rotation of your thumb over the thing’s surface.
>Memories of the day you received this little thing come back when you reach little under two hundred.
>The bright lights, the massive audience, the venerable veterans…
>Funnily enough, your parents didn’t show.
>Twilight Velvet and Night Light took their place, patting you on the back and treating you like one of their own with faces prouder than you’ve ever seen on any blood kin.
>Hell, you still have the photo saved on your phone.
>You, Shining Armor, and Feather Bangs standing arm in arm with your Navy sashes draped over your shoulders, bright smiles on each of you.
>It’s hard to think that it was only—
>”Alright, we’re here!”
>Blinking, you look up.
>Oh.
>The vehicle’s pulled up to the front of the hotel, and people at the front of the van are already making their way outside.
>Gathering your things, you reach just over a thousand rotations before you exit the vehicle, your mind already prepared for the rest ahead.
>You’ve been dealing with the stupid cunt’s vapid jokes and yokel-tier laughs for the past several hours.
>...
>......
>Goddammit.
>They’re laughing.
>They’re joking.
>They’re your roommates, and they’re fucking annoying.
>Hard Boiled, Feather Bangs, and Shining Armor, damned be their names, are currently playing smash or pass.
>You’re half-tempted to remind Boiled that he’s been dating Sugarcoat for little under a year now.
>It’s a tempting prospect, but you’re too lazy to engage in conversation, lest they think you want in on their little game.
>”What about… Cadance?”
>Laughter immediately follows that, save for Shining’s.
>You can hear the sound of a smack before more conversation fills the pitch-black room.
>”Ow, you bitch!”
>That was Shining.
>Another smack.
>”Stop throwing your fucking coins at me!”
>Boil’s laughter is so hard that it shakes your shared bed.
>”Have some shekels, fuckin’ kike!”
>...Okay, you didn’t expect that, and a small tug on the corner of your lips shows that.
>Curses are followed by several more coins being tossed in the dark, each smack followed by laughter of both Hard Boiled and Feather Bangs.
>Yawning, you turn your attention back onto the device within your hand.
>The screen flashes to life with a few taps of the thumb, nearly blinding you in the process…
>One new message.
>Smiling, you open the thing and read silently as the chaos to your right continues on.
>’Good night.’
>Not a whole lot of words there, but the reply is enough to make a sense of comfort rush over you.
>You can repair everything with Sugarcoat in due time.
>Bridges can be rebuilt.
>Setting the phone down with a warm feeling overtaking your stomach, you curl yourself up under the covers and let out a small sigh.
>Blocking out the random chatter of your group, you try and think of what souvenirs you’ll get Sugar tomorrow at the battlefield gift shop. 
>That small smile remains on your lips up until sleep drags you off into a world of open arms and kind words.
>It’s quite weird, honestly.
>You’ve already signed away on an eight-year contract to defend your beloved country, and yet you’ve seen so little of it.
>You are Anonymous, and you’re mesmerized by the sea of rolling grass before you.
>The smell of the vegetation, the distant treeline that gently sways with the wind, the smell that’s chock-full of nature. 
>It’s…
>Well, it’s enough to give you reason to stand and stare at the battlefield before you, a cool shiver running down your back all the while.
>Men died here.
>Thousands of young men willing to give it all for their countries and what they thought was right.
>It doesn’t matter to you which side the men were fighting for.
>The war between brothers ended over a hundred and fifty years ago, and both sides still stemmed from the original roots of your patria.
>Each man was a hero in his own right.
>Each man was willing to fight up until his last breath for those he loved ba—
>There’s a holler, one to which you shake your head to and turn to see one of your teachers yelling down at two distant classmates.
>...
>Are…
>Are they having a fucking race down the hill?
>Jesus Christ, they actually are.
“Fucking idiots.”
>Shaking your head, you let the walking-corpse of a historian, one lethargic history teacher who goes by the name of Mr. Gord, lead your class down the hill.
>You trail behind the main group, letting your mind wander as you try to comprehend the magnitude of the battle that happened on this hallowed ground.
>This is the final resting place for thousands of young men.
>Behind each number is a family broken.
>A son lost.
>A brother murdered.
>A father that’ll never return home.
>You wonder if you’ll return when the next war comes.
>Will you be just another number?
>Probably.
>...
>Giggling.
>You hear giggling again.
>You immediately recognize it as hers.
>You smile without thinking, thoughts immediately going to how you can best make her smile.
>Looking to your right, you can’t help but grimace when catching the eyes of that untrimmed retard.
>Why she would decide to walk with him instead of you is something you’ll never know.
>Maybe she just doesn’t realize yet?
>Or maybe she’s caught in that web, just as Redheart was?
>Shaking your head, you decide to make way for the front of the group.
>At least there you won’t have to be in the immediate presence of that babbling retard.
>Much to your relief, you’re able to avoid conversation with all of your class by being in the front.
>The only people here are the invalids and social retards.
>Not you though.
>You’re here by choice.
>Keeping your pace just ahead of the group’s, you let your mind wander again while taking in the sights.
>Your eyes lazily scan over the distant models of twelve-pounders and other such artillery pieces.
>You idly wonder how prisoners taken from a battery, especially an effective one, would be treated.
>Mr. Gord never talked about that.
>You should ask him once you’re off this hallowed ground.
>Speaking of which…
>You don’t even need to strain your ears to listen in on conversations from classmates some fifteen feet away.
>Fucking degenerates don’t even know how to act on such ground.
>They know nothing of duty, nothing of what was given so that they may live in peace.
>Shaking your head, you make way just a bit further ahead of the group.
>You’d at least expect Shining and Feather Bangs to respect the dead.
>Fucking idiots.
>...
>......
>The car trip to the next hotel was, unsurprisingly, about as exhaustive as any other.
>Sure, you were surrounded by nearly all good people who were great fun to be around, but you still had to listen to her giggling the whole way.
>Her giggling caused by his vapid jokes.
“Hurr durrr, hurr durr… fucking idiot.”
>Shaking your head, you look to your right, expecting to see Redheart exiting the vehicle as she should, but she looks at you with a raised brow.
>”You good?”
>Uh, shit, seems you mumbled that a bit too loud.
“Uh, yeah, don’t worry about it.”
>Her face scrunches in amusement before she shrugs, herself rising from her seat to exit the vehicle.
>”Alright, dude.”
>Following the lithe woman, you soon find yourself in your hotel room for the night.
>Sadly enough, though, you’re still stuck with the same group for the night.
>Just as you will be for the rest of the trip.
>As the lads enter the room, you’ve already tossed your gear on the spot closest to the window and are making your way out.
>You’re not quite sure where you’re going, as the rest of the day is left up to the students.
>There’s a slight pang from your stomach, so you idly wonder if any of your less-annoying friends have the same idea right about now.
>...Funny how life works out, huh?
>You’ve spent a great many months anticipating this trip, about spending it with those three young ‘men’ you just left behind.
>And here you are, listening to the ring of your phone as you anticipate what others are doing at this hour.
>You guess the grass is always greener, or some bullshit like that.
>...
>......
>It’s actually quite a nice feeling, this.
>A full stomach, your letterman keeping you nice and cozy amidst the cool Spring air, and the nicotine soothing your previously addled mind.
>Hell, you wish every day would end like this.
>Leaning back onto the railing, you blow another cloud of smoke into the air.
>You wonder what Sugar Coat’s doing.
>Is she busy texting Hard Boiled?
>Would she be opposed to a bit of conversation?
>...Does she even forgive you for what Shining made you do?
>Aaaand there you go thinking about that question again.
>Countless hours and drunken nights have been spent worrying if you’ll ever have your best friend back.
>Hell, you can still remember the day you started smoking.
>It was after one of Sugar’s volleyball games, and she utterly ignored you.
>All because Shining filled your head with lies about her significant other, Hard Boiled.
>About how he was hitting her.
>About how he didn’t do anything when she got grope— 
>There’s a guffaw and a giggle.
>Turning around, you squint into the darkness, and you squint hard…
>Three forms.
>You can make out three forms, and you already know who they are.
>Cadance, Fleur, and him.
>The stupid cunt.