Spike opens the door of Twilight’s Castle and looks up at you. You rub your head in new-found frustration for an absence of hair. You’ve wanted to shave your head for a while now, because your hair is annoying and never looks good, but you didn’t anticipate how drafty it would be without a mop on top. It's kinda not worth it, to be honest. Oh well.
“Hey Spike,” you say. “Are the girls around? We were all going to go to lunch after their Cutie Mark Map Meeting or some shit.”
Spike continues to stare at you, his mouth hanging slightly open.
“Uh, yeah. I believe so. Uh, are you feeling okay, Anon?” Spike asks somewhat worriedly.
“Yeah, I’m getting by. Mind if I come in?”
“Of course,” he says, stepping aside. “Come right in.”
You stroll on inside, hands stuffed into your pants pockets, as you reflexively walk to the Cutie Map room. It has been a while since you joined the girls for one of their weekly lunches. Lately, you’ve been getting in the terrible habit of waking up late. But that changes today. New hair. New lifestyle. Now you’re going to go to the gym and do everything right. Eat all healthy and shit.
You look over your shoulder and spy the baby dragon following close behind, his eyes locked on the back of your skull. Man, ponies are really not taking the whole shaved head thing well. It must really have changed your identity to them. In fact, hell, isn’t there something about animals using hair to determine who a person is? Shit. You hope they haven’t all completely forgotten who you are, or think you’re some sort of terrible imposter. That sounds like the start to a cliché horror story.
Once you step outside the room that contains the cutie map, you pause, holding your hand onto the doorknob. You look back to Spike, who looks away reflexively.
“Everything alright, Spike?” you ask.
“Oh! Uh. Yeah!” the baby dragon says, fidgeting with his claws. “Of course! Why ever would you ask?! I’m just… uh. Peachy keen!”
You furrow your brow to the dragon as you turn the knob and open the door wide. Weird. Spike is normally dodgy and awkward, but you attribute that to once finding him cuddling with a pair of lacey clothing with diamonds sewn in. You never ratted him out to Rarity, but he never quite looked you in the eye since.
Stepping into the cutie map room, you overhear the others talking to themselves as you walk inside.
“Ah don't get it,” says Applejack. “All of our marks are focused right on Ponyville. What in tarnation could be happenin’ right under our noses?”
“I don’t know,” answers Twilight. “But we better find out soon, before it’s too late. Who knows when somepony could need our help?”
“Should we hit up Starlight?” asks Rainbow. “She’d be my first concern. Even though she is reforming.”
“But we’ve gone seven whole days without a Starlight problem, Darling,” Rarity says.
“Rarity’s right,” adds Twilight. “It’s gotta be something else.”
“What’s up gang?” you say, approaching the table where you then drum your fingers on. “Is there a mystery afoot?”
The six respectively move to lock eyes with you, each starting their own greeting, but finding the words caught in their throat. Fluttershy immediately raises a hoof to her mouth. Twilight rises to her hooves. Rainbow Dash reaches a hoof out to you, but pulls it away.
“Not anymore, I think,” Pinkie Pie says, her eyes shrinking to the size of pinpricks as she stares at you.
For some strange reason, Rarity seems hesitant before speaking to you. “I, uhm. How are you, Anonymous?”
“Fine, how are you guys?” you say in your usual upbeat tone. “Did I drop by too soon? Hopefully I didn’t bug your meeting or anything.”
“I, uh. Yes,” says Twilight, before flaring her wings. “I mean, NO! You’re fine. That is. I think you’re fine. I mean. Uhm. Are you feeling, o-okay?” she says, stuttering over her words.
“Feeling, uhm. Healthy?” adds Fluttershy.
Hands sliding into your pockets, you shrug. “Well, I mean. I guess I have had some tummy troubles lately, but what happens, happens. Am I right?”
The girls murmur lightly under their breath in agreement, but say nothing else.
“I just uh,” Rainbow begins to say. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve last hung out, but um... I hope we haven’t came off as… uh. Not being there for you.”
You tilt your head slightly.
“I, uh. No. I actually. I should have came to you guys more.” You flash a little smile. “It’s kinda my fault.”
“It’s never your fault, Anon,” Applejack says, removing her hat. “These things… well, they just happen. You can’t control it; nopony can. Granny’s worried sick about it all the time.”
“Well, uh. That’s. Uh. Good? I think?” you say.
Pinkie rises to her hooves, before looking up to you with sad, innocent eyes.
“U-uhm. Anon. This might be a little insensitive. But, uhm. Can I rub your hair? I’ve always wanted to when I see-”
“Pinkie!” Twilight barks out.
“Uh. Sure, Pinkie,” you say, looking back to Twilight.
This is weird. They are definitely acting strangely. Anypony could see that. But as Pinkie Pie steps on top of the Cutie Map and begins to run her hoof through your short spiky hair, you begin to try and add the pieces together. Are they reacting because of your short hair? Why would they be reacting because of your hair? It doesn’t make sense. Have you changed anything else in your life?
“Anon?” Fluttershy then asks, raising her head. “Is there anything… anything at all any one of us could do for you?” She lowers her head, but her cyan eyes remain locked on you. “I’m sure you’re going through a very hard time.”
“Uh, not really. I mean.” Looking through all of them, you start rubbing at the stubble at the back of your head. “Sure, times are rough, but we push through. You know?”
You eye the yellow pony curiously. Hard time? How does short hair have to relate to having a hard time?
“Are you comfortable talking about it, Darling?” Rarity questions, hoof on her chest. “I’m sure you’ve been bottled up the last few weeks. If there’s anything, anything you want to let of your chest… just know we’re all more than happy to listen.”
Comfortable talking about it? You shaved your fucking head. What the actual fuck are these ponies smoking? But since you’re concerned this is some sort of big prank that’s being pulled on the guy who was gone for a while, you decide to keep up the act.
“Uh. Yeah?” you say, looking up to the space your bangs used to occupy. “Sure. I mean. I guess it was just exhausting.”
“You keep on such a brave face, Anon,” Twilight says, wiping a wayward tear from her eye. “I’m so proud of you.”
The Princess rises out of her seat, and moves around the table towards you. The rest of the ponies rise to their hooves as well as they wrap their hooves around your legs, one by one.
“You’ll get through this, Anon. We’re here for you every step of the way,” says the Princess.
“Yeah,” mutters the rest of the mares in turn.
“I’ve heard the treatments always are exhausting,” Applejack says. “I had an Aunt that had to go through that stuff.”
You pause and look back to Applejack. Treatments. What treatments? Hard time?”
“I didn’t know your Aunt had cancer, Applejack. Or wait. Is that our Aunt or-”
Suddenly, your mind blanks out the rest of Pinkie’s rant as your eyes open wide. You feel your muscles become relaxed as the realization dawns on you. Of course, you idiot. Manes are everything to ponies. It’s part of their identity. So if they shave their head, or lose their hair, it means they're sick. Or balding. And since the last time they saw you, you had a full head of hair, it only stands to reason that...
Of course: They think you have cancer.
Now, let’s take a step back. Because there are two logical outcomes to this. You can clear the air right now, laugh this off as a big misunderstanding. Or, you can see how long you can keep up the act. For an even bigger laugh.
“When were you diagnosed, Anon?” Rainbow Dash asks, nuzzling into your leg as if it were the last time.
You break out of your mental reverie, trying to conceal the shit eating grin on your face. Boy, it ain’t easy.
“Oh, about two weeks ago. I figured I might as well get rid of the hair now since… well. You know.”
The six let go and nod in hurried agreement, as if their quick agreement was to lessen the burden off your shoulders. You bite your lip, already feeling how funny the big payoff is going to be when this misunderstanding is finally brought into the light.
“What’s your prognosis?” whimpers Fluttershy, looking up at you as she places a hoof on your knee. “Do they think you’ll pull through?”
“Oh yeah!” You answer with an immediate nod. “In fact, they asked me what sort of treatment I’d like to try. I decided to go for a more natural option. It’s just hard to get all of the money for treatment, you know?”
Twilight raises her head high and flares her wings once more. She hovers at your level, then places one of her hooves on your shoulders and the other on her chest as if swearing.
“Anon, with Celestia as my witness, if there is absolutely anything we can do to help you fight this, we will help. I swear it. You just name it, and we can help.”
You raise a hand to your mouth. Tears form in the corners of your eyes while thinking of the possibilities. Think of all the things you could ask these ponies to do! And they’d do it, too! Oh will they do it.
You shake, trying to hold in the laughter.
“Thanks, guys,” you say, your voice choking. “It means a lot, really.”
“Is there anything we can do?” asks Pinkie, placing a hoof on your other leg.
Your eyes rise to the ceiling as you stroke your chin in thought.
“Well, I mean. I can think of one thing...”
One month later...
You sit in the luxurious seat of a golden carriage, wearing a purple crown and holding a golden cane. If Rainbow could glare at you any harder, she’d be firing death-beams from her pupils at you, disintegrating you into dust. Instead, she holds up a spoon of mint chocolate chip ice cream. You open wide, queueing her to guide the frozen treat into your mouth.
Goddamn, it’s good to be the king.
But, then the carriage stops.
“Hey, what’s up? Why’d we stop?” you say, rising to your feet.
Twilight throws open the doors of the carriage.
“Anon, as much as we support your ‘natural approach’ to fighting your disease, we’ve decided we’ve had enough.”
With a glow of magic, you feel a pull by your shirt out of the carriage, which was being pulled by Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie, Applejack, and Spike.
“Go inside. See the doctor. Get help. Now,” Twilight commands, gesturing a hoof to a hospital.
You open your mouth, but find your words caught in your throat. You look back to the carriage, then back to Twilight.
Okay, maybe you went a little overboard with the ‘help’ from the girls.The joke has gone on long enough. It’s time to come clean. Sure, they’ll all be upset that the joke went on for this long, but they’ll probably find it in their hearts to forgive you. Because this is candy-coated marshmallow horse world. That’s how things work. Bad shit happens, people get forgiven, possibly even reformed. End of story.
“Okay guys, I need to come clean about something,” you say as you get up, dusting yourself off before tossing the crown back into the carriage. “I don’t have cancer.”
Twilight stares at you blankly as the rest of the girls sigh and look to the ground. Rainbow Dash leaps out of the carriage and grabs you by the t-shirt.
“I did not spend three weeks wearing kitty ears and saying ‘mew’ to listen to you go into denial over your sickness!” she shouts, her voice ringing in your ears painfully.
You then feel yourself get pulled towards the hospital entrance by the blue pony.
“No! I’m serious. It’s all a big joke!” you plead, pointing to your head. “A prank! See! All I did was shave my head!”
Rainbow opens the door to the hospital, and with a strong tug, throws you inside.
“Call it tough love,” Rainbow says, dusting her hooves before closing the door behind you.
You place a hand on the door handle, but pause as the six stare at you through the glass doors of the hospital entrance.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.
“So, now they all think I have cancer, doc,” you say, sitting atop of the table’s crinkling paper within the hospital’s examination room. “I appreciate you ran me through all the tests and stuff. But this is a waste of time. This is just one huge misunderstanding.”
The tan stallion sits on a stool opposite of you, staring down at their lab results.
“I see. I totally understand, Anon,” the doctor says inquisitively. “I’ve seen how these situations get out of hand before. Broken wings. Fake colds that go on for weeks. I’ve been up and down the block enough times to know a fake sickness when I see one.”
“Thank you!” you sigh out, before chuckling. “So, please. Let me bring the girls up, and you can totally break the news to them. They’ll be mad at me, and then we can all go home. Later on down the line, we can all have a biiig laugh about it over a pint of cider.”
He smiles and nods quietly.
“Sure thing, but there’s one little thing I think we should address first,” he says.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Anything,” you say crossing your legs, a smile on your face. “I just want all of us to get past this. I just did that thing where I was a massive asshole… again.”
“Well, see,” the doctor begins, looking the paper over once more as if to be sure. “You have cancer.”
You pause and shake your head at him.
“No! Doc, I don’t think you understand. I don’t want you to vouch for me. I just want you to come clean and tell them that you found no cancer. And then you suggested I don’t keep the joke up anymore. It’s that simple.”
“Sure, whatever Anon,” he says with a shrug. “That’s fine. I’ll do whatever. But you definitely have cancer.”
You sigh, rubbing your eyes.
“It’s all a joke, Doc. For the last time. I don’t-”
“You have stage two liver cancer, Anon.”
Then, you pause, feeling as if time actually slows down. Your world freezes. You hear the sound of blood pulsing through your veins, even your fingers as you stare at them. Your eyes grow wide. You feel as if sandpaper is caught in your throat.
“Oh… Well, shit.”
“Yeah,” he says pretty casually, placing the piece of paper down. “We might be able to fight it. It’ll be hard, but we’ve never fought this sort of thing in a human before.”
You feel a chill run through your body as you slouch in your seat, the paper crinkling even louder in your ear.
“Right. Because, Equestria,” you murmur.
A silence falls through the office as the Doctor lets out a huff. You take a deep breath and ask the only question that comes to your mind.
“Ay, it’s a rad haircut though. Right?”