The Blueblood Chronicles

by Rune Soldier Dan


Chapter 6: The First Date is Always..."Special"

Blueblood had sat through enough tailoring sessions to endure them with more than his usual patience. He stood rock-still on Rarity’s dressing platform, letting the other unicorn work her fashion. A dozen articles floated around them, each encased in a blue aura: a needle, a spool of black thread, and five different kinds of buttons that she couldn’t decide between. The mostly-finished suit on his body was classically black: functional, but far too generic for the fashion world of Canterlot.

She quizzed him as she worked, too. “So…what topic should you bring up first?”

“Tell her how great she looks today,” Blueblood intoned with a bored voice.

“Good! Now second…do you think this set of buttons looks better, or this one?”

They both looked the same to him, so Blueblood picked the first choice. Better to just get it out of the way than question a fashion-maniac.

After a bit of deliberating, Rarity went with the second choice anyway.

It was like having a cat for a mentor. For all her talk about being the perfect one to teach him, Rarity couldn’t stay on topic for five minutes. She would start by talking about ‘what a mare wants,’ then quickly drift off to the weather, to life in Ponyville, to the latest Canterlot fashions…

Over the two days they spent together, she said maybe four things he didn’t already know about romance. Most of her advice revolved around catch-phrases and stereotypes, the likes of which you see in books and movies.

“Make her feel pretty.” What if she’s a toughie who thinks “prettiness” is silly?

“Give gifts.” What if she feels those are a poor substitute for real feelings?

“Compliment her outfit.” …I’ve never seen Ditzy in clothes.

When Rarity told him to “look into her eyes,” he almost said it. ”You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

He was probably right. Rarity never spoke from personal experience, instead citing “a mare’s perspective” and suspiciously-unnamed “experts.”

But she was doing him a big favor with the suit, and she at least thought she was doing a favor with the ‘lessons.’ He could choke back his witty retorts and let her get the well-intentioned advice out of her system. It was strange, but Blueblood felt…comfortable in Rarity’s presence. He didn’t have to hide anything or prove anything. She wasn’t hostile nor falsely cheerful. Like a stern friend who had a playful streak.

Friend?

Blueblood swallowed a little as she pulled off the buttons *again* to compare another set. “Rarity?”

“Hm?” She mumbled distractedly, still eyeing the buttons.

A long hesitation followed, long enough for her to lose herself again in the tiny details of a well-made suit.

He swallowed again and said it quietly. “Sorry about the Gala.”

That got Rarity’s attention. She flicked her head, sending the myriad objects to rest on the nearby table. The distraction removed, she raised her head to look him in the eyes. Both of their faces were neutral, each one thinking of the disastrous night and the things they learned about each other since.

Rarity gave a far-off little smile, eyes looking into the past rather than the stallion before her. “You know…I spent so much time before the Gala fussing over every little detail of my dress. I was so confident I’d be your…what was that phrase you use? Lucky Winner? Pretty Princess?”

“It’s embarrassing to think about now,” she continued, turning her head away from him. “I was so caught up in the fantasy! I even made the suit I envisioned you in and danced with it when I was alone, twirling around and around. I ‘la-la-la’d’ the music and imagined the sweet nothings you would whisper to me with a cute little blush.”

“If there was one doubt, one tiny inkling of a doubt that was in my mind, troubling me with visions of rejection…it was that I would come off as too ‘ordinary.’ Too ‘country.’ Not classy enough for a prince. I made five dresses for the occasion, each more perfect than the last. I spent weeks trying to get the ‘Ponyville’ out of my voice. Those glass shoes I wore were so uncomfortable to wear, but I did it anyway. I was certain that if any little detail led to anything other than the highest class, I would be rejected. Everything had to be perfect. I would be the most refined mare at the ball, whether or not I actually was the most refined mare at the ball.”

She looked back, but her eyes were still in the past. A sad smile danced at the edge of her lips. “But you hate the preening, the faking, the self-obsession. If only I had been a little more honest, a little more myself. If I had known the real you, rather than the picture I painted in my mind…”

Her eyes refocused, and met his. “Maybe things would have been different.”

A heavy silence hung between them. Blueblood finally broke it with the words that needed to be said, much as he hated to say them.

“Maybe…but that ship has sailed, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” she sighed quietly, looking away.

Then Blueblood did something very, very strange.

He stepped over and hugged her. Not the overzealous kind of hug with forehooves and all, but a gentle interlocking of their necks. Her eyes snapped wide open, while his were closed.

The words came readily, Blueblood knowing that he would just screw it up if he stopped to think about it. “You know, one day you’re going to make a lucky stallion very, very happy.”

Rarity released a sharp, jagged breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Listen to you!” she laughed gently. “You’re just going to charm Ditzy off her hooves!”

Blueblood was about to respond when she made a disgusted noise, eyeing his cuffs. “SQUARE buttons? What WAS I thinking?”

And the moment passed.

------

Dear Diary

FINALLY. Dear, Sweet Celestia, if I never get fitted for another suit again it’ll be too soon. I’ve sat through countless sessions before, but never with RARITY.

And never again with RARITY.

I mean, 95% of the suit came easily. But those dang BUTTONS. We tried on every single black button in her store, and buck me, but the only ones I could tell the difference between were the square ones and the black ones. The only ones I really didn’t like were these blocky square buttons, which of course were the ones she finally decided were “perfect.” But what-the-hay-EVER, I’m just glad it’s over with. I told her the dang things looked great just to get out of there. Ugly buttons? I’ll live.

Now onto the important thing: Ditzy.

I think I’m basically on my own with figuring out how to handle her. Not only does Rarity’s advice come from romance books, but a lot of it’s self-contradictory. Respect her personality, but focus the conversation on her beauty? Be nice, but also be firm and aggressive (because I guess mares dig that)? And here’s my personal favorite: “Just be yourself,” which seems to negate all the personality-manipulating advice that came before it. I’m even wearing a totally different outfit than I’ve ever worn before, but hey, “Just be yourself.”

I didn’t fight about the suit, but this whole “just be yourself! But don’t look like yourself or act like yourself,” thing threw me off. I commented on it to Rarity. At first she said something along the lines of “typical stallion.” Then she tried to rationalize it with more catch-phrases and stereotypes.

I’m kind of proud of myself. I didn’t resort to personal attacks to make my point. I didn’t turn it into a fight. I didn’t even mention how by this point I was *certain* she had never been romanced herself. I just stuck with the firm logic of my argument and let her embarrass herself with increasingly-weak explanations.

She stopped the silliness a lot faster than I expected – when she’s not feeling crazy, Rarity has a pretty good head on her shoulders.

I think I made her think about it a little too, because she seemed to ponder for a few before giving a much more considered response.

“Look, Blueblood,” she said, and proceeded after a long hesitation. “Appearances and manners aren’t everything. But they are SOMETHING. A good first impression gets your hoof in the door. Ponies get to know each other slowly, so if there’s a pony you really want to get close to, you want to show your best side so you can get off to the best start. It may feel dishonest, but it’s true: sometimes, you don’t show them the real you…so they can eventually get to know the real you. And one day, love the real you.”

That shut me up for a bit. It wasn’t a perfect explanation, but for a question like that, there was no such thing. At least she was willing to grapple with it honestly.

Speaking of honesty…what she said at the end sounded a little familiar. I asked her where she got it from, and she got this adorable little stutter going as she confessed it was from one of the first entries of my diary.

Girl quotes my own diary – THAT SHE READ – in conversation with me? Classy.

But I can’t be too hard on her. She owned up to it, and is right about to do her best to set me up with the mare of my dreams.

(“Mare of my dreams?” That sounds so corny in hindsight, but I wrote it without even thinking.)

We leave for Ditzy’s house in a few minutes. Rarity’s gonna introduce me, then leave on some subtle pretext. That’s the plan anyway.

Wish me luck.

~Prince Blueblood

------

“Little Dinky’s at school,” Rarity explained as they walked down the road. The afternoon sun shone brightly above them, lending cheer to the townsfolk below and misery to the young noble in his stiff black suit.

“Derpy’s a postmare, so usually her afternoon gets taken up with package delivery. But Ponyville’s department doesn’t ship packages on Mondays, so it’s her easy day. I don’t know if she’ll be at home, but that’s as good a place to start as any.”

Blueblood grunted something monosyllabic. His eyes kept meeting curious stares as they passed other ponies, and after a few moments he realized it was his suit. He was probably wearing more fabric than the rest of the town combined. The black outfit soaked up the spring afternoon sun, and the material itself was thicker and warmer than his usual white vest. Sure, it didn’t scream “Canterlot,” but he was still completely overdressed.

This is definitely the last time I go to Rarity for help.

Rarity pointed down the lane to a small, but cozy little one-floor house. “That’s Derpy’s house right ovEEEEIIII!”

A grey blur slammed to the ground right in front of them like a meteor, kicking up a cloud of dust and a minor shockwave. Combined, they ruined the three hours the unicorns spent this morning getting Blueblood immaculately groomed.

Blueblood stood stock still, willing the dust to settle on the suit and on Rarity, just not on his body. That was part of the reason he tended to wear clothes. He had a pure white coat, so any grime that got on it was immediately visible. It tended to…throw him off a little.

But for whatever reason, the panic that usually came with a messy coat didn’t hit him this time. He just quirked an eyebrow, tenaciously accepting that NOTHING goes according to plan in Ponyville, so why start now?

The dust settled as quickly as it rose. A grey pegasus stood in front of them, shaking it off her like a dog. She stopped after a second and looked at them, tilting her head a little so one eye looked at Blueblood and one at Rarity.

She had big eyes, almost as big at that grin she wore on her face.

There were two things that Blueblood realized at that very moment.

The first was that, in all honesty, she was a little homely. There were superficial flaws: she was dusty from the collision and windswept from the rapid flight. But there was more to it than that. Her nose and legs were a little too short, her neck a little too long for the body it attached to. She didn’t hold herself like a proper mare or even an athlete, she just kind of kept her body aloft with legs spread a little too widely apart. She didn’t have much of a flank, either.

The second thing he realized, at the exact same moment, was that she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Everything else…kind of blanked out. The world consisted of Ditzy, and a bunch of other stuff that didn’t matter as much.

Rarity batted at her mane with a hoof, futilely trying to remove the dust. “Derpy, dear, kindly be more careful! You could have hurt…”

She glanced to the side, and did a double-take. Blueblood’s hair was rumpled, his coat had turned a fine tan…and his pupils had been replaced by hearts. A small stream of tiny hearts was lifting from the top of his head, popping when they got about a foot above. He was utterly motionless, staring at the object of his affection.

With a groan and an eye roll, Rarity turned back to Derpy to find her oblivious as well. She was watching the hearts emerge from Blueblood’s head, content smile on her face.

“Oooooooo…”

“Darling, wha-“

“Bubbles!” Derpy giggled.

Rarity was half-tempted to leave them there, but that would only lead to confusion later. Forcing an innocent smile on her face, she gave Blueblood a sharp elbow in the ribs. He ‘oofed’ and shook out of his haze, ending the stream of heart-bubbles and snapping Derpy out of her trance.

“I’m Blueblood,” He said in a dull, love-struck voice. Blueblood didn’t even send an angry look at Rarity for the sore rib.

“I’m Ditzy Doo, but everyone calls me Derpy!” She flexed her wings and took a second look. “Hey! You shaved since we met last!”

“Darling!” Rarity shouted, still flustered from the encounter. “What was that all about!”

“I saw Rainbow Dash trying out suicide dives!” Derpy’s grin widened. “I wanted to try one too! I ended up landing instead, but it wasn’t bad for a first try!”

“Rainbow Dash is a maniac!” Rarity snapped, shocked indignation on her face. “She should be no pony’s role model, least of all your own! Or did you forget what happened to the town hall when you tried to sonic rainboom?”

Now it was Blueblood’s turn to elbow Rarity, albeit a bit more gently.

“Thanks for the help, Rarity.” The words oozed sarcasm. “I got it from here.”

“She almost killed me, I’m allowed to be indignant,” she hissed back, then laughed a little at Derpy. “Aha, well, Blueblood…True Point, whatever, was back in town, you see. He asked about you, and I remembered it was Monday, so we decided to pop on over and see what you were up to.”

Blueblood opened up his mouth to say something, but Rarity continued. “Now I’d love to stay and chat, bu~t I have to go do the…thing, at the place. You know. I’ll leave you two together.”

She dashed off. Blueblood managed to get the first word of “How are you?” out of his mouth before Rarity dashed back. “Alone,” she said with a sweet smile and wink.

Then she was off again. This time Blueblood managed “I hope you’re-“ before she zipped back next to them. “The Food in Hoof Café has some good lunch specials. It’s the next street down, look for the tables under yellow umbrellas.”

Once more she ran off. Blueblood took a deep breath, cast his gaze skyward, and waited for-

“I think I’ve got some coupons in here somewhere,” Rarity dashed back onto the scene again, purse levitated in front of her. This time Blueblood was ready with his leg stuck out. Rarity tripped and went sprawling head over tail.

“’Food in Hoof Café?’ Sounds good. Would you like to go out for lunch, Ditzy?”

Blueblood was surprised how easily the words came out. Maybe he should thank Rarity for focusing his mind.

“Uh…sure.” A little confused, Ditzy trod up alongside him and the pair began walking down the street.

Ditzy cast a glance back towards Rarity. “Should we help her?”

“She’s fine.”

------

Though he had driven himself crazy with worry earlier, Blueblood had calmed down a lot since deciding to seek out Ditzy. With the decision made, he recognized there was little use in worrying until he met her again.

Thus said, he was certainly anxious. Like any young stallion on his first date, butterflies found their way into his stomach. Worst-case scenarios had danced in his head, and many pickup lines had been practiced in a mirror, each worse than the last. It was part of the reason why he let Rarity dress and lecture him – any guidance was welcome, even from her.

For most stallions, the anxiety only picks up when they meet the mare they have their eye on. They watch their every move, seeking to always say and do the exact right thing. Blueblood was different, though. Having never even considered going on a date before the last few weeks, he had made little plans and had no idea what to expect.

The lack of expectations along with Ditzy’s free and open nature made for a very good combination. They reached the outdoor café, placed their orders, and began to talk. When Blueblood talked, Ditzy was patient and friendly, giving him her full attention. When Ditzy talked, Blueblood watched her, thrilled to just be there with her. All the worries and anxieties he carried into the meeting…faded away as the minutes flew by.

They were nothing alike, it was true. Ditzy spoke very slowly and methodically, with childish giggles and stumbling over hard words. But Blueblood – not a stallion normally known for his patience – found it comforting. Canterlot conversation was fast-paced and focused. Everypony wanted something. They talked too much, either hiding weaknesses or pouncing on them. Ditzy didn’t hide her weaknesses. She didn’t want anything, and she didn’t have much to say.

She definitely didn’t have much to say, leaving Blueblood to fill up most of the silence. He was in his comfort zone and he enjoyed it immensely, speaking in a way he only ever spoke to his aunts. He did impressions of some of the more eccentric nobles, and whispered a few harmless scandals that the princesses concealed from public eye.

Wanting to take the focus away from his royal status, Blueblood quickly turned the conversation to the E.E.

“Truth be told,” he said, chuckling a little at his own joke, “The biggest risk to the Egalitarian Equestrians’ financial security comes from its other founders. Helperton comes from a very quaint sect of the previous generation that holds an irrational distrust of banks. If he had a Princess’ ransom, he’d just keep it in his mattress and hope for the best. And after all that work I did, leaning on the First Equestrian Bank to give us 6% interest! Star Gazer barely even thinks of the money, and thank Celestia for that. One time I narrowly stopped him from betting the farm on stocks for a mining operation right in the middle of Diamond Dog territory. In the spring, no less! I’m sure you can imagine how…”

Blueblood trailed off, his attention returning to Ditzy. She was watching him and smiling, but there wasn’t a hint of comprehension in that smile.

He swallowed, a few old fears returning. Am I ever going to be able to hold a real conversation with her?

A few stutters came out of his mouth and he sighed. “You…didn’t follow any of that, did you?”

“No…” Ditzy admitted, scratching the back of her head. She frowned a little, seeing him deflate with the admission.

But then her grin returned, wide as he had ever seen it. “But I really like listening to you!”

“You do?” I don’t understand. She isn’t intimidated? Embarrassed? Bored? I know I’d be bored if somepony rambled on about things I don’t understand.

“I’m not a smart pony,” Ditzy said, and – to his shame – Blueblood didn’t correct her. “To other ponies, I talk slow, but to me, everypony else talks fast. If you tell me something important, I’ll super-dooper-looper try my very best to get it all. But if it’s not a big deal and I don’t understand everything…I’m having fun, you’re having fun, so why worry?”

It took Blueblood a moment to follow the simple wisdom of it. He had a sharp mind that was always thinking and overthinking, analyzing and judging. He worried about the future, fretted over class and race, and could think of a thousand ways a relationship with Ditzy could go wrong.

But here, now…he was happy. So wasn’t all that other stuff just a big distraction?

“Why worry…” he repeated her words, a slow smile spreading over his features.

The smile turned to a grin, showing that he understood. “Why worry!”

And then, a look of vague doubt. “But…I’m from Canterlot, you know.”

“Why worry?” She said again, smile unchanging.

“I mean, it’s more complicated than that.” Blueblood hesitated a second, wondering if he should bring it up before deciding to roll with it. “I’m a royal. Prince Blueblood. You know.”

Ditzy giggled. “Of course I know Blueblood. He’s the nice stallion who helped me during the storm and is taking me out to lunch. Duh.”

“But doesn’t the whole ‘noble’ thing…complicate things?”

“I’m no good with complicated,” Ditzy responded, patiently fielded every doubt he threw at her. “Simple is better. Fun is fun, happy is happy.”

Blueblood fidgeted a little. “I…guess so.” His throat felt too full to give a longer response. Maybe the heat was getting to him. His heart was beating fast in his chest, fluttering so quickly he was almost shaking on the outside.

He didn’t feel comfortable in Ditzy’s presence anymore. She was somepony he could easily talk to, but now his tongue was rooted to the floor of his mouth. He felt cold and warm at the same time. Nervous and overjoyed. Like he was swimming in a dream, but somehow tightly-wound and paranoid. So many contradictory emotions were flooding through him he felt fit to burst.

His feelings had changed, too. Earlier, he felt that the world consisted of Ditzy and some less important things. But now there was nothing around her but darkness. There was no sound but her voice. Nothing to look at but her. Ditzy wasn’t the most important thing in the world, she was the only thing in the world.

And she was leaning in closer…

“Blueblood…” she said slowly, bringing her head over the table. “I like you.”

Oh Celly, she’s giving me bedroom eyes.

It was a schoolfoal’s thing to say, but he didn’t care. He matched her movement, letting her fill up even more of his vision. “I like you too.”

They both subtly puckered their lips and leaned even closer. A tiny, cynical voice in the back of his mind told him it just too perfect to actually happen.

And it was right.

Ditzy’s half-lidded eyes went wide. She had leaned too far forward on her chair and the legs had abruptly skidded out from under her. She gave a yelp of surprise and fell forward, slamming her forehead into Blueblood’s face. He rocked backwards, pressing a hoof to a bruised snout while Ditzy continued her inevitable facefall onto the table.

“OH, COME ON!” Rarity screamed, leaping out of the bushes before a pink hoof whisked her back into cover.

“Ow, jeez!” Blueblood shouted, pain and shock rudely ending the spell. “Watch it, you clum-“

He put a lid on it before finishing the sentence, but the damage was done.

Oh no.

Tears immediately sprang to Ditzy’s eyes. “I’m sorry!” she said in a panicked voice, for all the world like a child anxious to appease an abusive parent.

No-no-no…

“I know I’m clumsy, and dumb, and I know I keep screwing things up, and I know…” she continued the self-destroying tirade, tears continuing to come down.

No-no-no-no…

Blueblood could feel the situation deteriorate, but in his guilty panic had no idea how to save it.

“I go on my FIRST DATE in like a MILLION YEARS and I can’t even…” Ditzy hesitated, an idea seeming to come to her mind.

She smiled at Blueblood, a horribly forced smile that hurt to look at. “Yeah, well, derp-derp-Derpy! That’s just who I am, you know? Clumsy as they come.”

She bonked her head with her hoof a few times, giggling feebly. That was enough for Blueblood. He had to do something. He still couldn’t think of anything but a parade of “no’s,” so he started talking without the slightest forethought. It was a bad plan – it probably didn’t even count as a plan – but thought had failed him, so maybe a lack of thinking would save the day.

“THAT’S NOT SO WEIRD!” he said loudly, easily getting the attention of everypony else in the plaza. “I MEAN, LOTS OF PONIES HAVE PROBLEMS. LIKE ME! I TOTALLY LOSE CONTROL OF MY MAGIC ALL THE TIME!”

“You…do?” She asked. At least she was confused now instead of miserable.

Time to kick it up a notch. “YEAH! LIKE NOW!”

With mad certainty, he magically seized a chair from the table next to them. The blue-green mare in it screamed and tumbled out as it lifted in the air, encased in his magic aura. Blueblood swung it with as much force as he could manage, bringing it up into a tall arc to slam directly on his fearlessly-grinning head.

As the shattered pieces went flying and Ditzy screamed something, he had precisely one instant to realize that he might have overdone it a little.

------

Blueblood woke up in the hospital with the mother of all headaches. The fact that the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Rarity didn’t help matters at all.

To her credit, she had remained by his side the whole time, waiting for him to wake up. Also to her credit, she was really, REALLY trying not to smile at his bizarre escape.

‘Trying,’ anyway. She was smirking, but at least she was trying not to.

Rarity hid the expression by levitating a sheet of paper up to her face. “Report cards are in, Blueblood. You got a ‘B’ for intentions, and definitely an ‘A’ for heart. But performance, ooh, ‘F-minus.’ You really got to improve, Darling.”

“I’m not going to be able to improve,” Blueblood groaned, too upset to be angry with her. He scratched at the bandages swaddling his head, frown deepening. “She hates me now.”

The mare in the room didn’t respond, instead asking a pointed question of her own. “Having gotten a better chance to know her, what do you think?”

“I don’t think! Isn’t it obvious by now!” Shouting made the headache worse, but it made him feel a tiny bit better. “I feel. I feel that she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. I love her and want to make her happy. And I feel like such an idiot. You were right, my big, flankhole mouth screwed things up for me. I didn’t think then, and I’m not thinking now because I just biffed myself over the head and IT HURTS TO THINK!”

“So you’re sorry for what you said?” She pressed.

“Well, YEAH!”

Rarity wasn’t letting up. “What would you say to her if she was here?”

“Rarity, I’m getting sick of these 20 questions,” he growled. “I’d say I’m sorry for being a jerk and I love her and I wanna try again with her. Can you go now?!!”

She obligingly stood up. She had a weird look of triumph on her face. Not the smug smirk she got when scoring one on Blueblood, but a look of supreme personal pride. She strode out the door, nose raised high. She paused to whisper to a pony to the side of the door before stepping out of sight.

And in walked Ditzy.

The shy, hopeful smile on her face said that she heard the whole thing.

Blueblood flinched a little, then blinked. This was too big of a coincidence. He had just been played like a fiddle.

And he was extremely grateful to the one responsible.

“Rarity set you up to this, didn’t she?” He had a small, self-effacing smile on his face.

Ditzy pawed at the ground nervously. “Umm…I’m not good with words, and I didn’t know if you were still mad. So Rarity said she’d talk to you and I could listen.”

“Umm…I really like you too.”

They both stuttered for a few seconds. They would speak at the same time, then pause to allow the other to finish, then try again at the same time.

“Hang on a sec,” Blueblood asked. His horn glowed and the door to his room slammed shut. He was pretty sure he heard Rarity go ‘phooey,’ from the other side.

He nodded, having finally achieved a bit privacy. “Now then. Ditzy, I...I know you heard it while I was talking to Rarity, but I want to say it to you. I’m sorry. I have a way of screwing things up.”

She giggled a little – softly, but it was genuine. “Me too.”

Well…that’s at least one thing we have in common.

“I wanna make this work!” Blueblood said abruptly. He seemed to do better when he didn’t give himself time to second-guess himself. At least when it came to the good things.

“I wanna go out again,” he continued. The impulse was fading, and he was turning a bright crimson. “And I don’t care what happens, I just wanna see…”

He caught Ditzy’s gaze – a mistake. He self-consciously finished the thought, slowing down and quieting until he could barely be heard. “S-see…you…again…happy…”

The words were finished by a vague, high-pitched mewl more commonly associated with a certain yellow pegasus.

Ditzy smiled benignly and nodded. “I want to go out again, too.”

“Canterlot!” Blueblood shouted abruptly again, and maybe this time he should have thought about it more carefully. “I’ll take you to a Canterlot ball! How does that sound?!”

“Superiffic!” She squealed, also missing the implications. “Tell me when and where, okay?”

“I’ll take care of everything! You’ll be like a princess!” Lost in their enthusiasm, the two embraced. Ditzy gave him a quick peck on the cheek and headed out, pausing for a final wave.

------

Dear Diary,

Today I went on my first date with Ditzy. It was…special.

I hit my head. And I invited her to Canterlot, home of the arrogant, the judgmental, and the shallow. The two events may be related.

Do I even need to describe the level of disaster I just set myself up for?

And this is the all-important second date, no less.

I’ll ask Aunt Celly. She’ll know what to doNO! I NEED TO STOP RELYING ON HER!

I think I’ll ask Rarity for her advice

I’m doomed.