"Before you say anything—I grew up in Las Pegasus. I know my way around a party. It's not like I've only been to terrible parties before this, and so have this... crazy, mixed-up view of what parties are. I know full well they're supposed to be fun. I've had a hoof in making them fun, for thousands of ponies. When you're in the balloon-animal game, there's no shortage of work in Pegas, right?
"But... the City of Flights changes things. Nopony doesn't have fun in Pegas. So when ponies show up at your parties, and they are delighted by the balloon hat, or the balloon spear, or the balloon replica of Princess Celestia... sure, it makes you feel good. But then the worm creeps in.
"The worm? Um.
"I guess... it's the feeling that ponies enjoying themselves isn't good enough. You want to be epic. You want to be this amazing presence who commands respect wherever he goes. You don't want to produce parties, you want to be known as the pony who produces parties. To hang out with the high rollers, the Objectively Better Ponies, at the VIP lounge at Gladmane's.
"And that's the thing that eats you up. Once you don't let your parties be about themselves, once you start seeing them as needing to uphold this brand, this reputation of quality you have going on, once you stop celebrating the fact that ponies are having fun and start worrying that the next mistake will be the one that exposes you as the rank amateur you know you are inside... well.
"You're never going to always be the best. Not even if you try your hardest. And it gets harder and harder to try your best as you hate your parties more and more by seeing only what they are not.
"That... darn Cheese pony.
"That's a pony who knows what's going on. He pulls fun out of midair, like a magician pulling doves out of his sleeve. That's when it really went wrong. To see him at work, headlining the greatest bashes in Pegas... to see him do everything you dream of doing, without even breaking a sweat... that's the hardest thing to take.
"It makes you hate your stupid balloon animals. Never mind how happy they've made the little fillies and colts over the years. All you can see, every time you work, is that you will never be Cheese Sandwich, no matter how hard you try. It's at that point you become an adhered-point balloon—
"Sorry, professional reference. You're a balloon who's lost a little section of its protective cornstarch. It doesn't slide any more. It sticks. And once it starts sticking, it starts rubbing. And the latex gets thinner and thinner. You look fine on the outside, but you're secretly ready to burst. All it takes is one little rub—the pony might not even mean it to hurt!—one little rub to say that maybe you're past your prime, or have been coasting on reputation, or are fine for what you are but are certainly no Cheese Sandwich—and pop!
"You stop asking for advice, stop talking with your friends. Any work that you do is done in the course of a minute or two, slapdash. You lie to yourself and say that these are just spontaneous little exercises to keep your creativity working. Truth is, they're all you can even do. If you even stop to work carefully for a second, stop to consider what you're doing in the interest of putting out good product, the sheer ugly monstrousness of your project overwhelms you and you just... give up.
"And so you get worse and worse because you can't stand to do the thing you thought you loved for more than a few seconds at a time, and because you get worse and worse you hate what you do more and more and it never gets better."
"I just... I just want some kind of a way out," I finish, miserably.
"There are ponies who would say you should keep trying," she says. "Keep throwing yourself against that wall. Celebrate your failures as elements in the great cycle of always getting better, always learning anew."
"Ponies have said that exact thing to me," I admit. "I didn't listen."
"Good," she purrs. "They're wrong, you know. They don't know the truth that I know, and that you suspect. You waste yourself by playing a broken game. You'd be like... like that cartoon pony trying to kick the hoofball that the girl pony just always pulls away. Is that still a thing? I have to admit I've been away for a while."
"It is still a thing," I confirm.
"You're in a great deal of pain."
My lip quivers. "It's terrible to have a purpose in life and to hate it," I say.
"Whipped cream is just this terrible, terrible thing.
"Sounds silly, right? It's delicious on pumpkin pie... in a trifle... a big dollop of it on top of a steamy mug of cocoa. I should know, right? Here's me, proud little heiress of the Silverbelle and Daughters Automagic Bakery Supply Company. I know my whipped cream six ways from Sunday. Did you know that a short, intense burst of heat right before packaging can keep whipping cream fresh for three times longer than conventionally-processed stuff? Makes transit out to the frontier a snap!
"Hm?
"Oh, I'm... sorry. I thought you knew. Yes, those Belles. The Pies That Tamed the Southwest.
"Celestia above, I am so... I'm so tired of being a 'those.'
"I used to love whipped cream. I'd put it on everything. I was just... so proud to work for my grandmare, shipping fine flour and pure sugar and fresh cream everywhere in Equestria. Every little thing I baked reminded me of my family, my place in it.
"I remember being so excited to finally visit Appleloosa. Me, a full-grown mare, and never so much as a day-trip to see the extended family in Ponyville. Literally never set hoof outside Canterlot. Isn't that crazy? There I was, muzzle plastered to the observation windows in our private train car as we pulled into the station. I couldn't wait to see all those rugged, hardy, salt-of-the-earth frontier ponies cooking with Silverbelle baking products, giving themselves a little taste of home. A little something to remind themselves of Equestria, as they worked night and day to expand our borders.
"That night, the buffalo came.
"They were... wild. Uncontrollable. Uprooting trees, knocking down buildings. I never figured out why. I didn't ask. I spent all night in the hotel, shaking like a leaf. But it wasn't just the buffalo. That night, I discovered how the Appleloosans were actually using Silverbelle baking products.
"They were making war pies.
"Something else you should know about our whipping cream: we sprinkle it with a little powdered agar before it goes in the carton. It's the Silverbelle secret. You don't have to wait until you're whipping it, you can just add it to the cream right from the start! It makes our cream pies super-dense and super-rich. Really good heft. For... for, um, throwing.
"I'm sorry. Just give me a minute.
"You have to understand, buffalo are such proud creatures. A cream pie to the face is funny to us. It's lasting shame for them. You could... you could actually turn aside a stampede with a sustained barrage. That was how ponies were using our supplies. Not to eat or to enjoy; to fight buffalo. What was worse, my family knew about it! They knew what business we were in! And... and they never told me!
"I started not sleeping well. I couldn't close my eyes at night without seeing the sad faces of those humiliated buffalo. It got worse and worse. Eventually, I started believing that angry buffalo who'd been on the receiving end of Silverbelle cream pies were sneaking into my house at night and playing mean pranks on me in revenge. So I, um.
"This is going to sound silly.
"Okay. I built my house up into a maze, full of doors that opened onto walls, stairs that led nowhere. A whole little castle full tricks to keep the imaginary buffalo out and to keep Sugar Belle in. It was the only way I felt safe! For a while, I went out to get groceries and such, but then I started paying for delivery instead and eventually I stopped leaving the house at all. I wouldn't see the sun for weeks.
"I... don't know what changed. My family said I 'snapped,' but that's not the word I'd use. 'Snapped' has this sharp, breaking sound to it. It was more like a 'whoosh,' a sudden gust of wind. I had just pulled a nice fresh angel food cake out of the oven and was about to set it upside-down to cool when I realized that I couldn't even think about how delicious it'd taste. All I could see was my cake splattered across the face of some mortified young bull, drying in the desert sun. I realized I never wanted to make, or even see, a dessert, ever again. So I put down everything I was doing, trotted right out of my maze house, started off down the street and... I guess I just didn't stop.
"And you know, it tore me up inside. Making ponies happy by cooking delicious desserts, and giving them stuff to do the same, was all that mattered to me! But it all got ruined and now I'm all mixed up inside and I don't even know who I am!"
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe for a little bit.
"How awful for you," she says, her voice sweet. "To learn that your 'special talent' causes more harm than good."
"My family doesn't even know where I am. I'd like to go back and see them, to tell them where I am, but I can't make myself do it. I just keep walking."
"Why do you do that?" she asks, evenly. "What do you think you're searching for?"
"I just... I just want to find somewhere safe."
"Somewhere where the buffalo won't ever hurt you?"
"No," I say. "Somewhere where I won't ever hurt the buffalo."
"Hey, hear me out on this! I should know. I had the worst friends. My whole life long.
"Y'see, Mom... wasn't home much. I guess she had to work a lot more after my dad left? Make ends meet? Always taking extra shifts cleaning up after fancy parties in those big midtown Manehattan hotels. And she'd always try to be home to tuck me in at night, but it wasn't until late, and even on usual nights that still left a good five, six hours in the evening for me to just, y'know, hang around.
"So it was this real pretty evening one fall and I was bombing around with my crew smashing up whatever Nightmare Night pumpkins we could find, chucking bogrolls over trees, stuff like that.
"'Cause... 'cause we were bored? I dunno. Anyway, we were right in the middle of makin' horseapples in bags so we could light 'em on fire and leave them on ponies' front steps. Ponies'd come out and try to stamp out the fire, and squish!
"...Yeah, pretty dumb. Seemed hi-larious at the time. Anyway, so we were in a back alley doin' our business when this really cool blue peggie in some kinda dress uniform gives us the stink-eye and trots over. Just this super-classy older stud with a wavy gray mane and a scarf and everything. He gives us this mouthful about disrespecting stuff and wasting our potential and tells us to basically go take a flying feather. Says he knows something about potential, 'cause he's an EUP, a full-on Wonderbolt. My pals just laughed it off but... I dunno. Something he said really hit me, right in the chest.
"Yeah, I still lit the bags on fire. But my heart wasn't in it. And I never did it again after that night. I got a library card and checked out all these books about the EUP and I think Mom thought I got nabbed by a changeling or something, 'cause there I was the next night, studying away in my room. Everypony I used to glide with, they all hated me. They thought I thought I was too good for them now. Maybe they were right, a little. I didn't care, 'cause I was shooting for the sky.
"Grades went up. Started paying attention. Went from 'maybe not gonna graduate' to 'top ten.' 'Cause I was gunning for Wonderbolt Academy, see. I wanted to be like that Wind Rider guy. 'Cause he cared. Nopony else cared what I was doing. That guy was military, yeah, but he wasn't Guard. It wasn't his job to tell me not to be a screwoff. He just did it because he cared. It was just... so weird to feel somepony caring what I was doing, even if it was just him telling me to stop lighting my poop on fire.
"So yeah. Graduated. Got into the Academy. Scrubbed out. Don't really wanna talk about it.
"No.
"I said no!
"Augh! Okay, fine! Cadance's butt, mare! Here's the quick version: turns out, Wonderbolts don't care. I guess Wind Rider was the exception or something. They're just a buncha bullies who talk big about putting morals before winning and then lie and stab you in the flank when they see a chance to prove they're the best. They're these legitimately terrible ponies, just as bad as my friends in Canterlot, except worse, because they go around pretending they're better but they're not. End of story.
"So I hit the streets again, found all the old crew still there. They were all either unemployed, or had these dead-end jobs totally unrelated to their cutie marks, or were workin' on foals after getting hitched to one of the first two types. Yeah, they were happy to see me, at first. 'Til they figured out I was a total drag. On account of my dreams gettin' crushed.
"They fight it, at first. You get exactly one pity party. One time when everypony gets together and tries to lighten you up. They see you dragging, staring down spending the next sixty years in a cider coma, and they do something big and stupid to try and get you happy again.
"When that doesn't work, they start just kinda leaving you alone. They figure, hey, this gal's obviously not having fun with us. Why are we even bothering? Eventually they stop asking you to hang at all.
"And it's not that you don't wanna hang. It's like, the only thing in the world you wanna do. You wanna just scream at them, say, 'Keep including me until I feel better!' But you can't. Because that would look dumb. So you keep wishing they would deal you in but you keep acting like you don't want 'em to and I so guess that's not their fault when they don't."
Suddenly I snort and kick the leg of the stool next to me. It falls over and I don't even pick it up. I dunno why I just did that. I just said it wasn't other ponies' faults, so why am I ticked off?
"You're lonely," she says, like she was reading my thoughts.
I cough so it doesn't look like I'm sobbing, which I totally am. "Yeah," I croak. "I gotta get out of this place. Maybe someplace without all this baggage. All these ponies judging me for who I was, who I am, who I was tryin' to be."
"I know of a place full of friends for you," she says. "Someplace far, far away. A fresh start. A clean slate. No one will hate you for striving higher than your station, because there are no stations. Nopony will betray you to be the best, because there are no bests. One herd. All friends. All working together, with one mind, for the betterment of Equestria. How does that sound?
"Mare," I say, draining the last of my mug, "that sounds like paradise."
"I guess I never realized how terrible a mess Equestria was in before this!
"I mean, these... all these books! I mean, I can read, of course I can. But I just never got into actual reading. Too busy hitting the slopes, I guess. I never knew half the stuff in these books even went on!
"Are all books like this?
"How about that. Hah, no wonder smart ponies read 'em all the time! You can, I dunno, feel the ideas digging in. Thanks for helping me with some of the words in here, by the way. I swear, I've never heard some of these. 'Egalitarian,' I was thinking it was, like... um... somepony who rides giant eagles everywhere?
"Yeah, funny, huh? Anyhow, thanks for setting me straight.
"Could you please turn the page?
"Thanks, that's great. I mean, this whole experience has been... like, hugely awakening for me. Something about having your body be so still. It... like... makes your mind free to wander. Am I making sense?
"Okay, good. Sometimes I don't, like, express myself very well. Always been more of a doer, not a talker, right? Not like the ponies in those movies you showed me. Those ponies can talk! Wow! It's like... I always just accepted that cutie marks were a thing, but I never realized the, uh, tyranny they had over us.
"That's the right word, right? 'Tyranny'?
"Okay! 'Close enough' works for me! Turn, again?
"Thanks. This is a pretty good read. I gotta say, though, I'm starting to get a little tired, so maybe if you don't mind—
"Huh? Yeah, okay. I guess I can go a few more pages. Could I, uh, maybe get a glass of water?
"Few more pages, okay. I can do that. Ready for you to turn.
"Wow. That is... that is a lot of words, right there.
"No, I can do it. It'll just take me a bit. Heh. Not like I got anything else going on, right?
"Yeah.
"Hey, isn't it funny how one little moment can change, like, the whole direction of your life? Like, if I'd gone right instead of left, followed the trail that headed crossways down the mountain instead of the steep one by that gnarly old ridge, I'da just sailed on past this little town. Celestia only knows what I'd be doing today. Probably downing some ciders, a hot little ski bunny on each shoulder. Just wasting days.
"Instead, I made one wrong turn, one little slip, and boom! Here I am!
"Honestly, it's a blessing you all were here at all. All those broken bones. Ponyfeathers. I could've died, y'know?
"Why do you have a full traction bed out here in the middle of nowhere?
"Right, right, I know. Too many questions! Not enough reading! Sorry, miss.
"It's just—those musta been some some pretty bad breaks I got, right? I mean, I knew ponies who took spills like mine. Pretty sure most of them had their casts off by this point...
"Oh, I know. I mean, you're the expert. If you say I'm not healed yet, I figure you know what you're talking about. And you're being nice enough to keep me entertained in the meantime. But it's frustrating, y'know?"
I struggle a little against the wicked collection of pulleys and weights, and try to imagine that little itch way down deep in my leg cast didn't exist. Willpower it away. It helps a little.
"Starlight?"
"Yes, Double Diamond?"
"Do you think... do you think I'm not healing because part of me is still clinging to my cutie mark? That once I truly get rid of the bad thoughts, once and for all, that my body'll make itself healthy again?"
"It's possible!" she says, cheerily. "We have yet to understand the full extent of damage that cutie marks do to ponies, but yes, I believe that the 'special talent'-obsessed mind creates disruptive harmonics that can interfere with the body's natural healing processes. Why? Do you feel yourself backsliding?"
"Yeah. Maybe. I dunno." I sigh. "I gotta get out of here, Starlight. Out of this bed. I want to move again. Maybe it's different for unicorns, but earth ponies aren't made for sitting still. We gotta move. We gotta work."
"Rest assured, Double Diamond, there will be plenty of work in the days to come. I'm building something glorious here, and I'll need a good, strong, loyal pony to stay by my side and help other lost ponies to see the light. Do you think you can be that pony?"
"I can sure try."
"Good." Starlight plucks the book off my trussed-up form. "I think that's enough reading for the day. I'll set up the gramophone; you can listen to it as you drift to sleep." She smiles. "I've got a wonderful lecture picked out, just for you."
"Thank you. You're so nice."
"Aw." She pats my bandaged head with one hoof. "How sweet." She begins bustling with the gramophone stand, placing the bell maybe just a little closer to my ear than I'd like. But then again, she prolly knows best.
"Were a terrible pony. You're much better. And furthermore, I don't think you actually were a terrible pony, not really. I'm reminded of something my friend Fluttershy once said: 'You're not a bad dragon; you just made a bad decision.'"
I frown. "Did she say this to an actual dragon?"
"Yes!" cries Twilight, grinning from ear to ear.
"The yellow one. Very quiet. Easily intimidated by a rabbit."
"That's the one! In her defense, Angel does happen to be one of the scarier rabbits out there."
I shake my head. "Your friends have some hidden depths."
The Princess of Friendship lays a hoof across my withers. "I hope one day they'll become your friends, too."
"That's... not going to be easy."
"Of course not. Friendship isn't something that happens over the course of a two-minute musical montage. It takes laughter, kindness, generosity, honesty and loyalty. But more important to the current discussion, it takes an awful lot of hard work from all ponies involved."
"Why in Equestria would they want to do that? Expend a bunch of effort getting to know a pony like me?"
"Don't be silly. They'll love you."
"I'm serious, Twilight!" I say, stamping a hoof. "I've done things! Terrible things! I stripped an entire nominally-consenting village of their cutie marks just to prove a point! And then when I saw you, I got greedy and thought that this was my one chance to get an honest-to-Celestia Princess of Equestria behind my cause, so I may have stretched the bounds of 'consent' just a smidge—"
"What you did was wrong, Starlight. There's no question of that. But I think deep down you recognize this is about more than just stealing cutie marks."
Twilight fixes me with a warm stare that makes me wither inside, an ugly weed exposed to too much sun.
"Yes," I say. "I spent years of my life finding ponies in need and in pain and preying on their weakness. I told myself that I was helping them. That I was working towards a better future for all of us, a future filled with absolute liberty, free from the machinations of destiny."
I shake my head. "But that's not what they needed. Party Favor didn't need a future free of destiny. He needed somepony to give him the confidence to get back to doing what he does best. Sugar Belle needed freedom to work her way out from under a family legacy she wasn't proud of. Night Glider didn't need an ideological cult; she just needed a good role model. And poor Double Diamond just needed a tender hoof and time to heal, not to be used as a literal captive audience. I got so wrapped up in my own agenda that I saw each and every one of them as a means to an end, as a way of getting what I wanted, instead of working together with them so we could all thrive.
"I could have been everything those ponies needed," I finish. "But now, they're... carrying on without me."
"Starlight..." says Twilight, gently.
"I tried to build a paradise, Twilight. I tried to build my own private heaven on a foundation of my own fears and emotional baggage. When you and your friends took it from me, I got so... angry! Why were you trying to ruin my perfect little place?"
"You know why."
"Yeah," I say, shuffling a hoof. "It wasn't perfect at all. It was built on bad ground, and it collapsed around me, and now I just feel like I'm searching for a way out. I need somewhere I can go to leave behind the pony I was. To be a brand new pony who doesn't just treat other ponies as means to an end. And I'll probably mess up, because I still am the pony I was, but maybe every day I can start to become the pony I want to be."
"The pony I know you can be," says Twilight. "The pony I know you really are, inside." Twilight's absolute calm certainty makes me want to break down bawling, and so, yeah, I pretty much just do that thing, right there in the middle of her opulent crystal study.
"I'm just looking for a place I belong," I say, amidst tears. "I'm just looking for a home."
My teacher encloses me in a tight hug that, just for a moment, makes all the rest of the world go away.
