Babs Seed walked over to the coffee maker. She was already late, but the day before she'd reused the grounds, so pulling that trick again would result in something truly horrid. And while she could pick up a cup on the way to work, that meant spending money she didn't have. Sighing, she took out the can and a filter, poured in enough for a cup, then stood watching the pot. That was supposed to not make it boil, but Babs wasn't superstitious.
Above the coffee pot a yellowed newspaper hung. With time to stare, she looked at it for the first time in a long time. PEACE DECLARED, the headline blared in large type.
The coffee finally started dripping into the pot. As soon as there was enough, Babs dropped it into a mug, added some milk to try to kill the scald, gulped it down, and ran out. As her mind walked the caffeine trail out of stupor, she reached the Manehattan subway station just in time to miss a train.
The station was clean but ill lit, and with the train having just left it was mostly empty. There were seats, but Babs just stood.
She knew that she'd be chewed out for being late again, but decided not to waste time on worrying. Her mind drifted back to the paper.
Her distant cousin Braeburn had sent it with a letter. Isn't it wonderful? the letter had read. We won't have to live in fear anymore. He'd sent her the paper and told her to send him one from Manehattan, just as he'd written to others of the Apple family. Braeburn had the idea to scrapbook them all as the family's legacy of the great day.
Why had she kept the paper? At first, for a joke. The small town paper had so many details of the story completely garbled.
As though the sight were just now reaching her, she saw back to when she was waiting for the coffee and reread the story in her mind.
"After four years of declared war, and who-knows-how-many of undeclared, the Royal Princesses of Equestria have announced that peace reigns between the Principality of Equestria and the Changeling Kingdom, their ruler having been deposed with the help of the Dragons."
The version in the Manehattan newspapers wasn't quite as bad. It didn't jump to the conclusion that, since the treaty between ponies and the dragons had been renewed earlier that year, that the new Dragon Lord had been instrumental in the overthrow, but it still framed it in political terms. She wrote to her cousins in Ponyville and got the whole story. One dragon had made the difference.
At the family reunion a few years later, she had Applejack tell it to Braeburn, who still didn't understand why it wasn't a big deal. Changeling attacks were apparently more common in the sticks. Manehattan was too strong a target for any organized strike.
Or maybe, Babs thought as she stood in her reverie, there just wasn't enough love for them.
The next train finally came and Babs shuffled on. She grabbed a strap. Still in her nostalgic mood, she remembered when she had to rear on her hooves just to reach it.
A joke, at first. The hicks in Appleloosa thinking that the entire land had been at war when really it was their problem. That was why she pinned up the paper in the first place. But why hadn't she taken it down? That was easy to understand, but hard to admit.
Changelings and dragons first. Then yaks. Griffons. Hippogriffs. Kirin. All in the span of a few years. Great things were happening. She remembered the first time a yak had been in her chair. The haircut went fine, if a little long. The chair hadn't survived.
When the train stopped she burst out the doors and galloped up the stairs. She was out of breath when she reached the salon. Her boss gave her a look, but apparently she was going to save the lecture for later, because Babs's first appointment was already there and had been waiting. A kirin. It was better not to anger them.
Snip, snip. Buzz, buzz. Scissors and clippers, the latter powered by some magic that Babs didn't fully understand. A kirin was tricky to work on, it was hard to say where their mane ended and that odd growth--it was rude to call it a beard--began. But they were good for a tip, and if you offered to buff their scales they really shelled out.
Kirin were tricky, yaks took longer, hippogriffs wanted to chat more than they wanted their manes cut. But Babs knew that a griffon would stiff you on the tip nine times out of ten.
She had a full day. Babs liked it that way. More work meant more money, and the day went faster than if she was sitting around. Although, time seemed to move even when she wasn't busy. She remembered what Granny Smith had once told her.
"The older you get, the quicker that clock spins. Day's over before ya know it. And I tell ya, a year seems to go by in a month!"
Babs laughed, forcing an awkward explanation to her patron at the time, a changeling.
Now there was easy money. Changelings didn't need physical work, they just flashed into whatever you described. But you had to talk over what would look best for them.
She looked out the window to see the sun getting low. Soon it would be over. Back to her apartment. Back to a quick dinner. Back to bed. Back here tomorrow.
"Excuse me?"
Babs picked up her head. The pony there smiled at her. "Are you free?"
"Sure. Take a seat. What can I do f'r you?"
"Just a wash and cut, please."
"Name?" The shop Babs worked in had their stylists take down each customer's name. It kept records and made it a little more personal.
"Coco Pommel. I was actually recommended you by a friend."
"Yeah? OK, then I'll give ya the best I got." She scribbled down "Coco" on her pad. Stopping there, she looked up at all the other names. Yella. Mist Spray. Gully. Ash. "Hm."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just realized. You're the first pony I've styled today."
The water coursed over Coco's head. It made too much noise to hear, so both of them had time to reflect on what Babs had said.
Once her mane was clean, Coco sat in the chair and let Babs put the cape on her. "I know what you mean," she said. "We get so few ponies in my shop these days too."
"Where do you work?"
"A boutique downtown. The owner's the one who pointed me to you. Her friend's your cousin or something like that. Rarity For You."
It took Babs a second to parse Coco's last three words. She didn't know many of the fashion shops, and the name Rarity meant nothing to her. "I can't tell you the last time I wore a dress. Not much need, as I see it."
"And they say Manehattan has such a thrilling night life. That's what I was told when I first came here. You?"
"Nah, born and bred here. You hear the accent? But the city's changed."
"That it has. All the new creatures." Coco shifted under the cape.
"It ain't like I mind. I ain't a pony supremacist like some that used to be round here."
"No, of course not. Why, some of my best friends..."
Babs let Coco trail off, concentrated on straightening her bangs. She was out of practice on pony manes.
"...excuse."
"I'm sorry?"
Coco opened her eyes, then blinked as a stray hair fell into one. "I'm sorry. I just had an idle thought."
"You can tell me. What else are hairdressers for? Just like a bartender if you're a stallion."
"I said it was an excuse. You said you were born here. Did you always know that Manehattan was the most cosmopolitan city in Equestria?"
"Sure," Babs said. "It's a point of pride."
"And I made it here. Top management in a fine shop."
"That's great."
Coco leaned her head forward so Babs could trim around her neck. "But not my own shop. Not really my own designs. And truth to tell, I haven't worn a dress in a long time either. I've had no reason. I used to date, but I haven't for a long time. I've been telling myself that it's because there are fewer stallions around, pony ones at least.
"I mean, there might be as many, but they're crowded out. Like I said, the city changed. If I were just starting out now...I probably wouldn't make it."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm in a rut. Same job all my life, no prospects there or for romance. Not even really a friend."
Babs said nothing. It was cutting too deep.
The rest of the haircut finished in silence. Pulling off the cape, Babs gave Coco's mane a final blow-dry and let her go. She counted up her tips and walked out. Behind her she could hear the lock of the salon's door turn and saw the lights go dark. She reflected that her boss had never wound up calling her out for being late.
Babs shivered. The days were getting shorter. Soon it would be winter again. Sooner than she liked.
Same job all my life. No prospects there or for romance. Not even really a friend. And Babs had even made the same excuse, that the evolution of Equestria had meant that she could be carried along by the wave, moved forward without effort.
When she reached home, she tore the yellowed paper off the wall and tossed it in the trash. Then she got out the Manehattan directory for downtown.
Tomorrow, she'd buy herself a dress.