.
I slowly walk down the flight of stairs; from my room and down to the cafe. I feel an urge, to go to the kitchen and help making salad.
Just as I am entering the cafe, I see a grey mare with a somewhat light, yellow blond mane; in a mail-uniform with her saddle bags entering the room.
“Mail for Topaz!” she exclaims, just as she is entering the room.
I hasten my steps towards her; trying my best to please, while still maintaining a measured gait.
“Greetings, Derpy! Mail, for me?” I respond.
While she may have some difficulties, she manages to open the saddle bag and extracts a package with her mouth; presenting it to me, still grinning enthusiastically.
“Thank you, Derpy!” I respond, as I am accepting my package.
“Courtesy of Rarity!” she responds.
“Then I will have to thank Rarity; if and when she gets here or I see her elsewhere!” I point out.
“Yes, exactly; Topaz!” she responds; “Have a nice day!” she adds, as she trots out of the cafe.
“Now, what do I do?” I ponder.
I end up, walking up the stairs; closing the door behind myself, in my own room. I place the package, the gift from Rarity herself; on the top of my bed, extending the index finger of my right hand and breaks the seal, in order to open the box and see what the package could possibly be containing.
“Of course; Rarity is an old friend of Pinkie Pie, a designer and seamstress, the CEO of a corporate empire promoting fashion and generosity, in selling her clothes and designs!” I recall, as if the memory came out of nowhere.
“Maybe I am truly Pinkie Pie’s girl, and agent of fun and games!” I realize, just as suddenly as the recollection had just hit me.
”Fun and games, something I never had the luxury to be exposed to!” I ponder; “Not so long as I was owned by a griffon, or another!” I continue.
“Poor little Topaz, she never had been intended to have a life of her own, filled with fun and parties of her own!” I think.
“Oh, and look at me now, I am completely pink!” I ponder, giggling.
“Wait, a ballerina suit, just for me; the slippers, the gloves, and even a brand new body to go with the set!” I exclaim, breathlessly.
“Is there a catch, or is this the grand price of my life’s lottery?” I ponder.
I am ogling the suit, for a good long time; before I sit down on my bed and pick up the slippers. While they look like a pair of knee-long stockings at first; I will learn the difference soon enough, when I put them on. Of course.
I manage to slip my feet in and pull the stockings all the way up. I am now wearing what is actually looking like a pair of tightly laced, ballerina slippers. The soul of the slipper is metallic bloody red, while the rest is silicon white; save the effect of the bright, cerise laces around my right and left legs. Strangely enough, I actually do feel the tight laces, too.
Once I had given the slippers a few tentative tugs, in order to make sure they are actually on just right; I pick up the right and left glove in turn, slipping my hands in and tugging at the sleeves a few times, just for good measure. As the gloves are slipping into position, I feel how the laces are tightening up, as if I had been laced up right now. As if some girl, or some pony had been tightening up the laces for me, right now. It is a strange sensation and experience; but I do manage, not to scream.
“Once I wear the suit, I am ready for the stage!” I ponder.
I slip down from the bed, onto my feet and stand up; turn around and pick up the suit I had been given. Now I step right into the suit from the back; half by half expecting to feel the laces tightening up, once the suit is on.
I manage to reach back behind my back, with my right hand; pulling the zipper up from the point just above the lower end of my back, all the way up to the nape of my neck. Only with an effort, on my part.
As the zipper is sliding up my back, I feel the now familiar sensation of the laces tightening up. At first it is barely noticeable; then it grows fairly severe, before I slip over my shoulder-blades. Strangely enough; it barely restricts my breathing, even before I am used to the corset-like effect of the suit I am now wearing.
“Step by step, I am turned into the ballerina; by the very suit I am slipping into, one garment at the time!” I ponder.
Maybe this is a pony’s design; but it certainly is making me feel like a human, and a girl more and more for each step of the process.
“There, is that the last part of the suit?” I ponder; picking up a pair of matching pink ear-pieces to slip onto the back of my ears, right and left.
The actual device is securely hidden behind the ear, as the small, slender tendril slips into the ear and thus transmit the desired vibrations directly into the ear.
As the vibrations are placed directly onto the eardrum, I can hear sounds of music and instructions; no pony or girl can hear, even if they were to sneak up on me. How ingenious?
Of course, the pink material is blending in with my skin, thus almost entirely invisible to any one; even if looking so closely, they could touch my back. For all intents and purposes, it is basically invisible.
I may know it is there, but I do not directly feel its presence; so it is out of mind and none-existent to me too.
With the entire ballerina suit on, I walk to the door and open; before I step out and close it behind myself, continuing to the stars and walk down to the ground floor and into the cafe once more. Now I notice the stage in the middle, by the inner wall. I walk up to the stage and climb up with practiced ease. The stage was a foot up, but raises to a full three feet up in the air.
I notice a faint purple glow in the floor I am standing on, just before it is taking its effect out on me; making me stand on the tips of my toes and hear the first song belonging to my performance.
The ballerina slippers may still emphasis the shape of my feet, just as starkly as before; but now I am finding myself utterly incapable of bending my feet, to stand on my heels as I would have done naturally, before. It is an odd sensation, but I ignore it to benefit the show for which I had just mounted the stage. My stage.
“My stage! I certainly do enjoy the sound of that, makes me feel just a little special!” I realize, grinning at the thought.
I lift up my hands over my head and strike the initiating pose of the dance. It does feel good, I am secure in myself. The music sets up a crescendo, and I turn around in a fast pirouette; Then another, and another.
Now I stop, and jump up into the air, stretching my right foot forwards and my left foot back; lifting my feet as high as I can as I spread my legs. A moment later, I am landing on the tip of my right foot, with a single squeak of the rubber making up the slipper on my foot.
I make a single quick step to the right and perform a new pirouette in a spin to the left, before I perform the next jump. Each jump leads to a secure landing, punctuated with that one squeak. The following pirouette is executed flawlessly.
While the stage may be minimal, but I can perform the dance within the center of the stage; never even coming close to the edge enough, for an outstretched hand to cross the boundary of my stage.
While my eyes are open, and I see everything before me; I focus inwards, on the dace I am performing. I do not see the ponies, or hear them; while I am dancing on the stage. Though I do imagine it is quiet, while I dance before them.
The dance comes to and end, and I stop; standing still, looking out among the still quiet ponies smiling. There are a few scattered cheers, indicating that I had been successful in entertaining them.
There is a five or ten seconds delay, between each song and dance; thus grouping and organizing the dance into a complete performance.
Seconds come and go, minutes come and go; just as the hours are coming and going. It is my place, to capture the audience and entertain each pony in the room. Of course, I do not judge the guests of Pinkie Pie at her cafe; I entertain an audience. If one is pony, griffon, dragon or changeling; who am I to say or protest? I perform a dance after the one before. It is all I do, and all I wish to do.
I live in that one perfect instant, granted by Pinkie Pie; for me to enjoy, leaving her guests stunned and in awe.
They eat, and they watch me; as I dance for them all to see, as I enjoy a moment never to be repeated, ever again. I can dance her tomorrow, of course; just as I know, I will dance tomorrow and each tomorrow granted me until I can no longer dance or enjoy dancing more.
The sun is up, and I am enjoying the day Celestia is giving me. The time is slipping out, as the sun goes down to be replaced; by the moon promised and delivered by Luna. One Princess is going to bed, as her day has been fulfilled, and another raises to the occasion, to take her place and give us a night.
As I am stepping off of my stage, the last guest has already trotted out of the cafe; Pinkie Pie is rejoicing over all the happiness and all the smiles.