Critical Love

by The Cake Devil

SHHH!

Chapter Two

Sweetie Bloom was on the edge of her cushion. She could feel the story reaching its climax, and as silly as the puppets were on stage, they really sold the surreality that propelled the conflict. Who knew she would ever be worried or scared of a Goblin King with a mane-cut like that.

The mane-cut itself was worth at least one star, but she wasn’t sure which way…

However, the pony in the seat behind her was playing host to a set of very different set of feelings toward this performance. From the very moment the curtains opened, Storm had been fighting an overwhelming urge to up and walk out on this performance. Sure the whole thing was oozing with creativity and the story was pretty solid, all be it a little “tongue-in-cheek” at times. It was the main protagonist, if it wasn’t for the character being a whiny little filly then it was the actress’ utter butchering of her lines, that no one else seemed to notice or care about! It got to the point where he’d give a low audible grumble almost every time the character opened her mouth.

Sweetie flickered her ears in annoyance, as the muttering of the pony one row up kept distracting her from the play. She only wanted to watch a goblin king sing to synthesized music! Was that so much to ask without getting stuck next to some malcontent heckler.

She glanced back with a cross look. “Shh!”

Storm was taken aback. “Did you just shush me?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes I “shhed’ you,” Sweetie said turning back around. “I can’t hear the performance over your grumbling, so Shh!”

“It’s the only thing I can do to keep myself from tearing out my own mane, so you shh!”

“Shh!”

“Shh!”

The two continued to spit ‘shushes’ back and forth as the other theater goers began to send them irated looks.

“Ahem,” spoke a voice.

The two ponies paused in their ‘shushing’ match and turned toward the offending speaker.

Hovering above the two was a pegasi sporting a red vest and a frown was the theater usher.

“Is there a problem, ladies?” The usher asked in a hushed tone.

“No sir,” Sweetie answered, forcing a painful smile. “None at all, isn’t that right ‘friend’?” She asked turning to Storm.

“Yup, nothing wrong here,” he said. “Just two pals havin a wonderful time at the theater, while tolerating sub par actress, he-he.”

The usher raised an eyebrow. “Alright...just keep down.”

As the usher flew away the two released a collective sigh and turned back to the performance.

Storm tried to settle back into his seat, but Sweetie wasn’t nearly done. “What do you mean, ‘sub par?’”

“What?” Storm asked leaning forward.

“You said the actress is sub par, which is a total exaggeration,” she continued in a hushed tone. “She’s...alright.”

“Yeah, for a sleep trotter maybe.” Storm retorted in a hushed tone of his own. “And seriously what’s with her character?”

“What do you mean?” Sweetie asked tilting her head.

“Well, for one, she’s completely underreacting to this whole situation, and more importantly, or annoyingly, she’s done nothing but whine the entire play.”

“Oh she’s not that bad. I’m sure there a bunch of teen fillies who can relate to her.”

“Yeah, all the whiners.”

Sweetie rolled her eyes, but eventually forced herself to return her attention back to the performance.

“OK come on,” Storm says as he walks along side his pink acquittance. “ Even you have to admit that ending was pretty full of it. After all that preachy dialogue about growing up and moving on in life, the play turns back around and says ‘eh, whatever’ and ends it with some sort of puppet party.”

“That’s not what I got from it,” Sweetie said, turning her head toward Storm. “I think it was kind of trying to tell the audience that yeah, it’s important to let go of the past in order to move on to the future and make new memories. But we shouldn’t all but forget them, otherwise you’d be forgetting a factor that makes you, you.”

“Daaaaang gurl.” Storm said stopping his stride. “ That’s some pretty deep lingo if I do say so myself. Not something you’d hear from the average pony.”

“Is that so,” Sweetie asked turning around. “ And what makes you think I’m an average pony?”

Storm smirked.

“Touche, my pink acquaintance.”

Sweetie giggled.

“By the way,” she said.“I don’t think you ever told me your name.”

“Call me Storm, dahling,” he said stopping and performing an over exaggerated bow. “Storm Analysis. Or if you’d prefer, the life of the party: Sir Snickerdoodle”

“A pleasure to meet you,how about we just go with Storm for now?”

“Suit yourself,” Storm said, raising himself from his bow. “And who might you be?”

“Sweetie, Sweetie Bloom.”

The two ponies paused their conversation,a their ears picked up an odd howl or shriek come from the alleyway across the street, causing them to jerk their heads to the side, perhaps a stray cat or perhaps the sound of hundreds of fans crying out in confusion before being silenced. They blinked, and slowly turned back to their conversation.

“Well then,” Sweetie said, clearing her throat. “I hope I see you around, Storm.”

“Likewise, Sweetie,” he replied with a smile.

With that, they took their separate ways: Sweetie Bloom opened her wings and took to the night sky, and Storm began his path down the dim sidewalk, whistling happily as he went.

“You remind me of the babe, what babe-gah,” Sweetie said. Shaking her head vigorously. The entire flight back she’d been fighting a losing battle as she tried desperately to rid herself of the catchy melody, only for it to come back time and time again.

“Well that’s definitely getting a side note in the review,” She half heartedly grumbled to herself. As she slowly made her descent to the window she took notice of a light coming from the apartment. Perching on the fire escape, Sweetie pulled a key from underneath her wing and nimbly un hooked the latch to the window, and made her way inside.

Closing the window behind her, Sweetie turned to find a familiar face poking her head out from the kitchen.

“Ah, Miss Bloom,” Hard Swing chimed. “Welcome back.”

“Miss Swing?” Sweetie asked, concern growing on her face. “What happened, where’s Gem Shine, is she-” she paused as the sudden intrusion of a hoof to her mouth cut her off.

“Gemmy is fine, Miss Bloom,” she said removing her hoof from Sweeties mouth. “I popped over to try ta catch ya before ye headed off, didn’t catch ya in time, and figured I’d keep the little one company till ya got back.”

Sweetie raised an eyebrow looked behind Hard Swing to see a half eaten hayloaf, resting on top of the stove. She smirked and turned her attention back to the mare.

“And I may have had a bite’r two,” She sheepishly said, giving a guilty grin and folding her ears back.
“It’s alright Miss Swing,” Sweetie said patting the guilty mare on the back. “I always make too much anyways, so what did you want to talk about?”

“Well lass,” Swing said as she rubbed the back of her neck. “The month is almost up and I really can’t afford ta turn a blind eye anymore.”

Sweetie sighed and looked down.

“Can you wait until the twenty ninth?” Sweetie asked looking back up. “I just need one more job and I’ll have enough to pay you back, I promise.”

Hard Swing winced and gently rubbed up and down her neck.

“Alllllright las,” Swing groaned. “But not another day more. But you’re really twisting me leg here.”

Sweetie nodded, giving the earth pony a faint smile.

“Thanks Swing, I promise I won’t let you down.”

“I know ye won’t Sweetie.” Swing said as she made her way to the door. “ Las,” she said stopping at the door. “You know I don’t like puttin this koinda pressure on ya, roight?”

“I know Swing.”

“It’s just, I gotta business to run too, ya know?”

“I know Swing.”

“If I could, I’d board the two of ya up fer free, but I-” She stopped as she felt a kind hoof upon her shoulder.

“Hard Swing, you’re doing the best you can, Gem and I are overwhelmingly grateful for it. You’re a kind pony in a city where kindness is often forgotten and I for one feel blessed to have met a land mare that I can also call friend. I give you my word that you’ll have the rent by the twenty ninth.”

Hard Swing nodded and sniffed before turning around.

“Good night, Sweetie.”

Sweetie smiled as she embraced the mare with a warm hug.

“Good night, Swing.”

After saying their goodbyes Sweetie cracked open the door to her little fillies room and quietly trotted in.

The little filly slept soundly in her bed, her frame slowly rising and falling with her quiet breathing.

Sweetie smiled and craned her neck downward, placing a soft kiss on the fillies forehead.

“Sweet dreams kiddo,” she whispered as she made her way out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her.

Sweetie gave a content sigh before heading over to the small desk that sat adjacent to the window. Taking a seat in front of it, she flicked on the lamp and pulled the typewriter forward.

“Alright Sweetie,” she said. “Time to earn us some bits.”

The door to the Manehatten Chronicler Press Newsroom burst open. “Honey, I’m home!” chimed Storm Analysis, sliding in with stylish momentum.
The industrial lighting, charmed with motion sensitive magic, flickered on to reveal the empty desks, chairs, and typewriters.
“Oh, that’s right,” he said, rolling his eyes at himself. “I’m not married.”

He trotted through the rows of desks, and stifled a yawn with his wing. He had already written most of his review earlier that night, but it had taken longer than he had expected. By the time he was done, almost everyone had left to go home. No ponies taking all nighters this time, which was good for him, they were always so distracting.

Having just dropped off his draft for the copy editor, it was time for him to get some shut-eye.

There was a small green, leather couch by the editor’s office which was for visitors to wait on. That was his destination. As peppy as Storm might have looked, he was so tired that he could feel the bags of his eyes dragging him down.

“Well, I think it was a job well done today,” he said to himself. “Got to see a play for free, typed up my review, caught up with Cliffey, and…” he thought for a moment and then smiled, “and even got to meet a pretty mare.”

He stopped by his desk, and withdrew a plain pillow and blanket. With them under his wing, he made his way to the sofa and plopped on.

“Yup, you deserve a pat on the back,” he congratulated himself as he settled in for the night, drawing the blanket over his body and curling against the pillow as if it were a stuffed animal. “And maybe a raise. Or perhaps an apartment.”

He rolled closer to the back piece. “Or a mattress. That’d be nice too.”

With a sigh into the pillow, he remembered he was still a few months away until he had the savings he needed. If he was lucky, and he got the edits done by tomorrow’s morning issue, then he’d get his paycheck in time to meet this month’s goal.

He didn’t want to think about money. Money was cold, and sad, and frustrating. That was no way to go to sleep. Instead he searched his mind for something warm and fuzzy to ponder on.

“Hehe...that Sweetia gal sure had a critical eye.” He smiled. “Yeah...she be pretty.”

Author's Note:

Dear dahlings.

Let us know what you guys think :D!

Sincerely Yours, The Cake Devil/Insula Sol