Pearl

by A Hoof-ful of Dust

Opine

The setting sun turned the streets of Canterlot an orange jungle of long shadows. The warm colors should have signaled freedom, a day ending, a night beginning, but to Sweetie the shadows felt like they were snaking into the future and drawing her next performance closer. She'd been preparing for her songs to be denied a place in the setlist, but to actually know they wouldn't be included, at all, felt like she had failed for not having tried hard enough. She didn't turn her head as she heard hoofsteps approaching.

"He didn't go for it, huh?"

"No." Sweetie didn't even look up at Lyra as she left the building, choosing instead to keep focused on the paved road as she walked. If she had lifted her head, she may have seen one of the numerous posters advertising the big Filly Explosion! concert in a week. She heard the older mare fall in beside her.

"Okay, okay. But like, big deal, so what, right? You knew he probably wasn't gonna say yes anyway."

"It feels like a big deal," Sweetie groused. She had liked Lyra being around -- partly as a kind of mentor, partly as a little reminder of home -- but right now she felt like a big noisy reminder of how she didn't belong in Canterlot on her own at all.

"Hey. Hey." Lyra stepped in front of Sweetie and stopped, forcing her to also halt. "Listen. We still have the demo, right?"

"Right, but what good does it do if Stacks isn't even going to listen to it?"

"Pfft, he's not the only pony who has anything to do with music in this town, short stuff."

"What do you mean?"

"I might have passed your tape around a little, saw if anypony was interested."

"Why would you do that?!" Sweetie turned away from Lyra and screwed her eyes shut. A cold sweat rushed over her. She had poured her soul into those songs, and the idea of somepony hearing them without her around to explain why they were the way they were, not to mention the possibility of them not liking any of them and thinking she was a terrible writer who should never compose again, made her want to huddle in a ball right there on the street. It had taken a whole day of self-convincing to present the tape to Fat Stacks. It had taken all her courage to ask Lyra to play the instrumental backing.

She heard Lyra's voice, unusually calm and sincere. "Because I think you're good, I don't know. Because this is what you want to be doing instead of being wasted on that dumb girl band."

Sweetie opened her eyes. She was facing a brick wall covered in Filly Explosion! posters, her own unrecognizable face beaming back at her.

"...It is kinda dumb, isn't it?" she said at last.

"They liked it, by the way."

Sweetie turned to face Lyra again. "Liked what?"

"Your demo, you dope."

"Who?" she asked with some degree of curiosity.

"Ehh, it's better as a surprise." Lyra began walking away from the sinking sun. "Speaking of which, we have a place we need to be tonight that is in no way connected with anything I just said but for completely legitimate reasons I also can't give you full details on."

"You're terrible at surprises."

"You know, they were totally interested in my lyre skills, too. Maybe they want me for their project."

"You're terrible at changing the subject, too."

"Would you at least try to act surprised when we get there, short stuff?"