“Are you upset with me?”
The tie that had been floating mid-air fell to the floor as Star Bright’s concentration faltered. He turned to face the mirror and saw the reflection of Silver Script sitting on the bed, his hind legs tucked beneath his barrel and a sad look on his face. Star Bright turned, as though wondering whether the reflection was real.
“Of course not, Silvy,” Star Bright replied. “Why would you think that?”
Silver Script looked down at his hooves. “I saw the way you looked after I read that poem.”
Star Bright’s nostrils flared and he immediately turned away to yank open a dresser drawer to put the tie in it. Keep it together Star, he thought as he used his horn to pick up another tie. Once he placed the final tie into the drawer he slammed it shut.
I never wanted this. Star Bright thought as he picked up the empty bag and tossed it into the closet. I don’t want to speak. He turned to the small bag containing an assortment of fur clipping products and levitated them into the bathroom.
Star Bright couldn’t deny it—the poem hurt for some reason. Why did he make it sound like he was talking to me, he wondered as he set the fur clippers and toothbrushes next to the sink. He remembered what had transpired.
So that was a poem about you and a star?
In a way yes.
Star Bright looked at himself in the mirror. What did you do, he asked himself, staring at his reflection. He tried to think about where he went wrong with Silver Script, only to come up with nothing. He lay his head on the counter and covered his muzzle.
Suddenly, a familiar smell invaded his nostrils. He moved his hooves and saw a tiny batch of periwinkles sitting in a small vase on the corner of the counter. Him, he thought as he walked back into the bedroom.
“Silvy?” he asked. “You know I love you, right?”
He watched as Silver Script nodded, even if the movements were more lethargic than usual.
“You know I would never grow tired of you, right?”
He watched as the stallion nodded again, though his gaze never left the wall. He felt his breath tighten as he tried to push the next statement out.
“I’m… sorry if I did anything to make you feel bad.” Stupid stutter, he thought as he reached a hoof towards the bed. “I loved the poem, I really did.”
He got on the bed and sat next to Silver Script’s side. His horn glowed, and he heard the pegasus gasp when his wing extended involuntarily, allowing Star Bright to snuggle closer to the stallion. He inhaled, enjoying the way Silver Script’s feathers brushed against his back like a soft quilt. Each time Silver Script breathed, he felt the stallion’s flank press into his.
“You’re right, you know?” Star Bright said.
“About what?” Silver Script asked.
“I do fear you’ll disappear,” he replied. “I mean, right now I feel everypony staring at me. But when the ceremony ends, I’ll just go back to work in the lab and everything will return to normal.”
Star Bright looked into the stallion’s eyes, wishing he knew what the stallion was thinking.
“But when you get published, it will only be the beginning,” he said, his hoof trailing along the covers. “Soon, you’ll be the one traveling Equestria, reading to packed auditoriums and—”
Silver Script scoffed.
“And signing autographs in bookstores,” he continued, ignoring his partner’s outburst. “I guess I never thought about you being the one gone for weeks at a time.”
“Uh huh,” Silver Script muttered. “And what if I never get published?”
Star Bright paused for a moment before smiling. “Then I guess you’ll just be stuck with me then, won’t you?”
The pair laughed softly. For the first time this week, Silver Script finally gave a real smile. As they both left the bed, Star Bright breathed a sigh of relief.
“I don’t know why I let the idea of you talking with Trenderhoof put me in such a bad mood.”
Star Bright leaned in and nuzzled the stallion’s cheek. “It sounds like somepony may have been a little jealous.” He said in a singsong voice.
Silver Script snorted in Star Bright’s direction. “I mean yes he is a famous writer.”
“A travel writer,” Star Bright corrected.
“And attractive.”
“Trust me, Silvy, you’re the only stud I need.”
“And he’s a unicorn.”
“That’s just—” Star Bright paused. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to wrap his mind about what he just heard. “What does that mean?”
“Oh you know,” Silver Script replied with a twirl of his hoof. “Being able to teleport, levitating objects, things like that.” He trotted to the dresser and opened the top drawer, pulling out a tie. “I’m sure it gives you all an advantage, probably even with your own work.”
Star Bright’s jaw dropped. He reached a hoof to his chest as he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He felt himself get woozy, and so he closed his eyes to steady himself. When he opened them, Silver Script was staring at him with a look of concern.
“Starry, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Do you… think the only reason I made the discovery is because of my horn?”
“Don’t be silly, Starry, I—”
“You just said being a unicorn was an advantage to my work!” His voice grew louder.
“I didn’t mean it like—”
“How else could you have meant it?” Star Bright shouted, his words growing closer together. “I have dedicated my life to understanding the night sky and have managed to do what is essentially a life’s work only midway through my career expanding upon the research of Maregon and Keeneighn—two earth ponies—and because of it, have given Princess Luna herself a brand new tool for her work!”
“Starry, please stop, you’re speaking really fast again.”
Star Bright saw that Silver Script was quivering and that his eyes were narrowing. But by this time, he was unable to stop the flow of words as he paced back and forth.
“And after all of that,” he continued, his voice growing dangerously quiet. “You have the nerve to tell me all of my work is due to magic?” Star Bright shook his head. “All I wanted from you this week was for your support. I told you I can’t do this on my own. But every day you just drifted farther and farther away from me. And now tonight, you get jealous of Trenderhoof for talking to me.”
“I am not jealous of Trenderhoof,” Silver Script growled as he puffed his chest out and flared his wings.
“Oh, okay, then why have you been like this ever since—”
Star Bright blinked as he remembered the past week: the music playing when he got home, the already opened envelope, the fake smiles, the poem. His gaze crossed the room, as if every event were a physical piece of evidence in front of him, like a mystery to solve. He slowly turned back to Silver Script, whose nostrils were flared and his wings still on display.
“You’re jealous of me,” he said.
“Why would I be jealous of you?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his muzzle and closing his eyes. “That’s not how I—”
“That’s the only way to explain why you haven’t been there for me, even after you promised you would.” Star Bright’s words began to speed up again, falling out of his mouth like a waterfall. “You’re projecting your fear of being rejected onto this fiction that my success is due to me being a unicorn. Well guess what? Trenderhoof didn’t need his horn to write and get published, and—”
Star Bright immediately covered his mouth before he could finish that sentence. He kept his eyes closed, afraid of what he would see. He hung his head down, clenched his teeth, and slowly looked up.
Silver Script’s wings had closed. The stallion stood frozen, his eyes glazed over. How could you do that, he thought as he tried to think of what to do next. He reached out to Silver Script, gasping as the stallion jerked his head away. Star Bright watched as Silver Script’s eye began to well up, but before the tear had formed, his wing slowly extended to cover his head.
“Please go,” he said, his voice muffled behind his wing.
“Silvy, I didn’t mean to.”
“Please?” Silver Script begged.
“This isn’t right,” Star Bright cried. “I know there’s something going on. Please let me help you. Please tell me.”
Silver Script didn’t speak. Star Bright felt the world around him spinning. He straightened and trod to the door, dragging his hooves the entire way. He pressed his head against the door and placed his hoof on the doorknob.
“Just promise me that we can discuss this? And then go to dinner?” he asked, staring at the door.
“Please leave, Star Bright.”
Star Bright flinched at the sound of his full name. He waited for a moment. He heard the sound of hooves against the floor, the squeaking of the bed, and labored breathing. Star Bright closed his eyes, turned the doorknob, and entered the hall. The door shut behind him, and he leaned back, letting his body slowly slink onto the tiles.
***
The clatter of forks against plates caused Silver Script to squirm. All around him, waitresses were busy picking up cutlery and glasses. A knife caught on the edge of a wine glass, sending a tiny shriek through the air that only he seemed to notice. The conversations of other ponies around him buzzed like a bees in a hive.
“Thank you.”
Silver Script looked up.
“This is one of the best restaurants in Canterlot,” Star Bright said. “I’m so happy you found a way to bring me here.”
Silver Script’s ears perked. He glanced across the table and saw his partner sipping a glass of water. He smiled, trying his best to ignore the sounds around him. This is why I prefer working by myself, he thought, tapping his hoof nervously on the tablecloth.
“Well,” he said, his wings ruffling. “I know that after what you’ve done, you only deserve the best.”
The light above them flickered for a moment, though Star Bright didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he didn’t let Silver Script let on to it. The pegasus did his best not to cover his head with his wings at the sights and sounds around him.
“I’m sorry.”
Silver Script looked up, his lip quivering slightly at the sight of Star Bright leaning in and folding his forelegs on the table. “Oh?” he asked.
“Yes,” Star Bright replied. “Thinking back, the fight really was… silly.”
“How so?” he asked slowly tracing a fork along his empty plate.
“I should have known you weren’t jealous of me,” he said.
Silver Script breathed a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and smiled, his lips still shaking.
“Have you decided what you wanted to order?”
The sudden appearance of a waitress cause Silver Script to yelp and instinctively take to the air. The table he was seated at, however, stopped his ascent, leaving him with two fresh bruises on his legs. His wings, however, did manage to fly open and hit the notepad levitating next to the waitress, sending it flying through the air.
“Should I give you more time?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.
Silver Script looked over to Star Bright and saw clearly the embarrassment on his face. All around him, he heard the conversations, though now he was certain that there was only one topic on their minds. They’re talking about you.
“Maybe just a few minutes,” Star Bright replied with a smile, but as the waitress left, he replaced it with a scowl. “What’s going on?” he whispered. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered back.
A blast of cold air brushed against his wing, and when he pulled it back to inspect it, he gasped. There were feathers now missing, revealing a disgusting patch of bare skin. He looked to the floor and, sure enough, there were the missing feathers.
“What’s wrong now?” Star Bright asked.
“Nothing,” Silver Script replied, tucking his wings as close to his body as possible.
“I can tell when you’re hiding something from me.”
Silver Script laughed nervously. “What would I be—”
“Oh, fancy seeing you two here!”
Silver Script rolled his eyes and groaned. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Trenderhoof standing next to him. As the unicorn approached the table, he trotted right past Silver Script without acknowledgment and went directly to Star Bright.
“We’re actually having dinner,” Silver Script fumed. “We’d really appreciate some—”
“Company!” Star Bright shouted. “Yes, we’d really appreciate some company right now.”
Silver Script glared at Star Bright, but the stallion’s eyes were still locked on Trenderhoof’s. The ponies at the table behind where Trenderhoof was standing shot Silver Script a dirty look, as though the stallion’s presence were his fault. Trenderhoof’s horn glowed, and a chair at a nearby empty table slid beneath him just as he sat down.
“I had some more ideas for the interview tomorrow,” Trenderhoof said, leaning closer to Star Bright.
“Excuse me?” Silver Script said as his wings began to extend.
“What’s wrong with your wing?” he asked loud enough for the nearby ponies to hear.
The room once again filled with harsh whispers. Silver Script looked at his wing and was horrified by what he saw. Not only were more of his primary wings gone, but now, even a few secondaries had detached themselves and fallen to the floor.
“I-I’ll be back,” he murmured as he got up and backed away from the table.
As he made his way through the restaurant, he could feel every pony staring at him with looks of disgust. Finally, he reached the door to the restroom, which he pushed open so hard that it slammed against the wall.
Silver Script stumbled into the restroom, tripping over his hooves and falling to the floor. He struggled to get up as his legs quivered and nausea set in. As soon as he got his bearings, he turned to look at himself in the mirror, only to see that more of his feathers had fallen off. He slowly extended his wings, his breaths becoming increasingly shallow as he saw that most of his right wing was now bare.
“What is wrong with me?” he asked as he galloped to the sink.
Tears filled his eyes, and Silver Script fell to his haunches and cradled his head in his hooves. A moment later, he heard the stalls open, followed by the sound of clopping hooves.
“This isn’t good.”
Silver Script looked up and saw Star Bright’s coworkers looking down on him with fear and curiosity.
“What isn’t good?” Silver Script managed to ask through his sobs.
“Let us see, Silver,” Blue Moon said as he leaned in to inspect the wing.
Silver Script closed his eyes as he felt the unicorn’s magic envelop his wing and splay it out against the wall. I don’t like this, he thought, his magic feels cold. I want to feel Starry’s magic.
“He’s got a smaller wingspan that I thought,” Chocolate Sun said.
Silver Script blushed and closed his legs.
“This is clearly a case of Knemidokoptes,” Blue Moon said. “It would also explain the fat legs.”
Silver Script felt the unicorn’s magic release its grip on his wing, and he pulled it in and curled into a ball on the floor. He glanced down at his legs and cried.
“That can’t be right,” Chocolate Sun argued. “His legs aren’t swollen. They were that fat when we saw him last time.”
“Well, we have to take the rest of the feathers in to test it, don’t we?”
“No!”
Silver Script shrieked and leapt to his hooves, pushing past the two stallions to open the door. Suddenly, he felt pin pricks at his wing, and he saw the magical aura of the two unicorns plucking out his remaining feathers. He screamed and bucked both of them before yanking the door open and charging into the hall.
“Starry… Starry…”
He stumbled into the main room, where he saw that it was now empty, except for Star Bright and Trenderhoof. As he approached the table, he saw that Trenderhoof had slid his chair even closer to Star Bright. At his place on the table, Silver Script saw a silver tray with a silver dome on top of it.
“You were taking so long,” Trenderhoof said with a soft laugh. “That we ordered for you.”
“We?” Silver Script asked, his shock apparent.
“Take a look. I think you’ll be impressed.”
There was something about the way both unicorns stared at him, but Silver Script knew he didn’t want to open the dome. Still, he took a deep breath, reached up, grabbed the handle, and lifted the dome. He gasped at what he saw.
“That’s the letter you’ve been waiting for!” Star Bright shouted.
Silver Script looked at the envelope—the same font, the same exact lettering. His hoof quivered as he reached out to grab it. He felt the tears stream down his cheeks, the ones that managed to reached his lips made his tongue salty.
“Go on,” Star Bright said as he stared into his eyes. “Open it.”
“Yes,” Trenderhoof added. “After all, a great stallion like Starry here needs a great partner.” The stallion’s eyes burrowed into his. “Prove it to him.”
Silver Script’s gaze narrowed as he grabbed the envelope. He began to pull at it, but none of the paper would relent. He grabbed the letter with his teeth in an effort to tear the paper away to get to the letter, but nothing would work. Finally, He felt an aura of magic surround the letter, and he saw it levitate towards Star Bright.
“Starry, no!” Silver Script begged.
Star Bright opened the envelope with ease and read the letter. His face was confused at first, then shocked, then angry. He screamed as he tossed the letter aside and flipped the table over. All of the lights in the restaurant began to flicker.
“Why is this dated last Sunday, Silver?” he asked, pointing to the date.
“Well, you see…” Silver Script began but let his sentence trail off.
“You knew they rejected you,” Trenderhoof said. “That’s why you hesitated to open it.”
Silver Script fell to his haunches and hung his head. The pair of unicorns began to circle him, the flickering lights causing their shadows to disappear and reappear around him.
“After all that’s happened this week,” Star Bright said. “Telling ponies about how my partner’s going to be a great author, and you knew the entire time you weren’t.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“So you lied to him instead?”
Silver Script’s head shot up so that he could glare at Trenderhoof. One by one, the lights flickered out until all that was left was the light directly above them. The stallion closed the distance between them until he was inches from his muzzle.
“Honestly,” Trenderhoof whispered. “Do you think you’re good enough for him now?”
The last light flickered. Silver Script hung his head again and looked at his hooves. A sickening feeling grew in his throat as he felt a hoof trailing his bare wing. His eyes darted back and forth, tears falling to the floor.
“I’m not good enough for him.”
The last light went out. Silver Script looked around, but all around him was darkness. Suddenly, a pinpoint of light appeared in front of him. The light grew and grew until he had to squint his eyes. Finally, a figure emerged from the light.
“It appears you have had many restless nights this week,” Princess Luna said. “Though this dream has been particularly traumatic.”
Princess Luna’s horn glowed, and her aura surrounded Silver Script’s wing, and he watched as his feathers returned in a flash of light.
“Forgive me for asking this, your highness,” he said. “But what are you doing here?”
“It is simple, really,” she replied. “I was able to hear your psyche.” She lifted Silver Script’s head with her hoof. “Everypony has fears, Silver.”
“I’m not scared,” he said, wincing at the way Princess Luna raised her eyebrow. “I just didn’t want to make Star Bright feel bad.”
Princess Luna’s horn lit up again, and the blackness around them gave way to his suite at the castle. Silver Script looked over to the bed and was surprised to see that his physical body was asleep beneath the covers. He noticed the other side of the bed was empty, and so he searched the room until he found Star Bright asleep on the couch. As he looked closer, Silver Script could see that his cheeks were still wet from tears.
“We all wish to spare our partner’s feelings,” Princess Luna said.
“Yeah, but I let my feelings stop me from doing the one thing I promised Starry that I’d do.”
“And what was that?” she asked.
“Be there for him.”
“Well, maybe you could give him the opportunity to be there for you, too.”
Silver Script smiled at the princess’s direction before turning back to Star Bright. Reached reached out and caressed his partner’s mane, enjoying how soft it felt.
“After the ceremony,” he said. “I want to give him one good day, at least. He deserves that.”
He glanced in Princess Luna’s direction, only to see that she was beginning to fade away. She closed her eyes and nodded before disappearing completely. Silver Script saw the rest of the world fade away as he breathed in, letting himself fall into unconsciousness.