Flash wouldn't have rented this tuxedo if he'd known how uncomfortable he'd be. He's baking underneath all the layers, his gait feels stiff and awkward, and while he's pretty sure it's not possible for his jacket to have pit stains, he wouldn't bet money on it.
Then again, the CHS parking lot is probably better lit than the auditorium will be during the dance. If he can't see stains in the glow of the street lamps, they probably won't show up in a room where the best source of light is a disco ball.
Being wrong would suck, though. Because Muffins looks really good tonight in her yellow gown, and all he wants is to look good next to her.
Leaving Sunset tanked his social life. She didn't gossip about their break-up, so no one actively excluded him, but breaking up with the most popular girl in school still hurt his standing, and he withdrew from most circles where she or the Rainbooms were active, which was basically any club or extracurricular activity.
His bandmates were there for him, sure. But it was Muffins who spent every lunch of the past few months with him; Muffins who lost sleep, night after night, talking with him on the phone; Muffins who talked him into coming to prom (and even bought the tickets) when all he wanted was to binge Neighflix in his underwear.
She deserves better than a sweaty, disheveled mess tonight.
Muffins's steps are long and carefully measured, atypically awkward for a dancer, and her hands are linked tightly behind her back. There's a gap of a couple feet between them, a respectful distance that Flash is trying to maintain. She looks at Flash from her side, her lips twisting thoughtfully.
Flash looks back, and quickly averts his eyes before he can dwell too long on the way she looks tonight.
"You're stiffer than that starched collar, Flash," says Muffins.
"Well, they say the clothes make the man. If the collar's starched, the guy wearing it will be, too." Flash opens the door for her, and catches her fiddling with her corsage. "Plus, I gotta pee."
"I told you not to drink so much water in the car."
"C’mon, did you want to bring a dried-up prune-corpse to prom?"
Muffins sighs. "Flash. It's a beautiful night. You have a beautiful woman on your arm. Faced with all this beauty, what do you talk about? Prunes. Corpses. And urine."
"Well, you're not exactly 'on my arm,' now, are you?"
"Harrumph," says Muffins, her hands on her hips. Then she snorts and breaks into giggles.
Flash laughs with her as they walk through the school, toward the auditorium. The distance between them has shrunk; they're almost shoulder-to-shoulder. He's about to take a step away, to not creep her out, when Muffins grips his elbow and hugs it close.
Fresh sweat beads on Flash's forehead as he looks down at Muffins, who peers back at him through her bangs, smiling and blushing. "Shut up," she mumbles.
She doesn't release him until they reach the auditorium. He doesn't try to make her.
Cheerilee's seated alone at a table by the entrance. In front of her is a half-finished cup of punch and a metal box; a few paper stubs poke through its lid. She smiles blandly when Flash and Muffins approach.
Flash digs into his pocket for their tickets and presents them with a grin. "Hey, Miss C."
"Flash, Muffins." She accepts the tickets, nodding back, and drops them into the box. "You look lovely together."
Flash's cheeks burn. "We're just here as friends. Together, but not 'together-together.' You know?"
He looks at Muffins for approval. She rolls her eyes, her lazy eye somehow staying on him. Smooth, she mouths.
"I only meant," says Cheerilee, "that you two look nice tonight."
Flash frowns; something about her voice sounds... off. Softer, even a little slurred. "Something wrong, Miss C?"
She laughs, but the smile that lingers on her face never reaches her eyes. "I'm fine, my dear. Enjoy yourselves, okay?"
"You heard the lady." Muffins steps up to the auditorium doors and pushes them open, holding them with a dramatic flourish; thudding beats and aimless chatter drift through the entrance, inviting him inside.
Flash hesitates, takes a step back with a nervous chuckle. "I'll be right in, okay? I got a pit stop to make."
Worry knits across Muffins's face, deepening the longer he hesitates. Finally, she nods. "Don't keep me waiting."
Flash takes the scenic route to the bathroom, bidding a private farewell to the empty school. It hadn't struck him until tonight how close the end is; after prom, all that's left is graduation. He wonders if he'll ever grow as attached to FSU as he is to Canterlot High.
When he finally reaches the bathroom, he's dismayed to find he's not the only one there.
Timber Spruce leans on the wall between the boys' and girls' rooms, smartly dressed and swiping through his phone. He looks up at the sound of Flash's footsteps, and widens his eyes.
"Hi, Timber," Flash says, hiding his displeasure. Of everyone he would rather not run into tonight, Twilight's boyfriend was at least number three on the list.
"Hey, Flash." Timber sticks his hands in his pockets and looks down, tapping his toes nervously on the tiling. "How's it hanging?"
"Pretty good." Flash coughs into his hand. "Lost the hat, I see."
Timber touches his hair and chuckles. "Your vice principal said it went against the dress code."
"She's like that."
"Yeah." Timber laces his fingers through his hair and runs them to the back of his head, rubbing awkwardly. "So, uh... my girlfriend is best friends with your ex, and I think that means I'm supposed to fight you if I see you."
"Oh."
Timber promptly defuses any possible tension with a shrug. "We could say that I did."
Flash sighs, muscles relaxing with relief. "Who won?"
"Call it a draw." Timber offers Flash his hand, and they shake, once, firmly.
The door to the ladies' room opens, and Sunset and Twilight emerge. Whatever conversation they're having stops when they see the boys shaking hands.
Flash's eyes find Sunset's. He nods, awkwardly, at her. She responds with an uncomfortable smile.
Twilight speaks first. "What's going—"
"Aikido!" Timber blurts. "We were fighting, and Flash got me in a deathgrip. I couldn't take him."
Flash glances at Timber, then back to Sunset. "I'm just here to pee."
Twilight folds her arms, smirking.
Sunset coughs into her hand, hiding a smile. "Uh, why don't you take Timber back to the dance, Twilight? Get some ice on that hand. I'll be along in a second."
Twilight nods, pushing her glasses up her nose when they slide down her face. She takes Timber by the arm and pulls him away, her fingers mingling with his. "I told you, you don't have to fight Flash Sentry."
"And I should've listened to you. Ooh, Twilight, get my acetaminophen..."
Their mutual giggles of nerdy love fade as they vanish down the hallway.
Flash wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, sighing. "That's... never not gonna be creepy."
"He's twenty, Flash. And Twilight turned eighteen a week before Camp Everfree. It's never been as creepy as you think."
"Why doesn't he just say that?" Flash turns to her, confusion screwed on his face. "Why didn't you ever say that?"
"Maybe you're just fun to screw with," Sunset says with a playful grin. "You got a minute to talk?"
Flash nods, his gaze traveling along Sunset's dress. She's done up in a shimmering green gown like back at Camp Everfree, a matching shawl draped over her shoulders. A nostalgic pang rings out in his heart. "You look great."
"So do you. But then, you always cleaned up nicely." Sunset's gaze lands on Flash's boutonniere, a pale white flower in a yellow ribbon. "You're here with Muffins, right?"
Flash nods.
Sunset's grin recedes to a wan smile. "I'm glad you two ended up together."
Shaking his head, Flash stammers, "We're just here as friends. We're not... together."
"Flash, please," says Sunset. "I've seen you two around school lately. And it's always been pretty obvious."
Flash shuffles his feet awkwardly. "Is this what you wanted to talk about?"
"No. I'm sorry for bringing her up." Sunset looks at her feet, biting her knuckle. "I mean, it's kind of in the same vein, but... if it's too weird, then we don't have to talk."
"Things always were kinda weird with us."
"Yeah, but..." Sunset sucks her teeth and flaps her arms lightly against her sides. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk before you left. Clear the air. I don't want it to be awkward, but... I don't like how we left things."
"Me either." Flash's hands wring together. "You know I'm sorry."
"I do." Sunset plays with a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. "But I'm not mad at you anymore. You were right about us. There really wasn't any other way for things to go. We're different people; we want different things in life. We could've saved ourselves a lot of heartache if we'd both been honest about that from the start."
"Isn't that what I said?"
"Yeah, I'm plagiarizing. Don't tell Cheerilee."
Flash scoffs, and scuffs his foot against the floor. "Y'know... I meant that when I said it. But the more I think about it, the less I believe it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, to me... it comes down to timing." Flash leans against the same spot where Timber had been. "I'll put it this way. Those first couple months after the Fall Formal, I didn't really know what to make of you. You spend three, four years with someone, then you break up with them, and suddenly they're a completely new person? It took me a while to figure you out again."
"You and me both." Sunset leans beside him against the wall. "And you were still hung up on Princess Twilight, too."
Flash nods. "You see where I'm going with this? If I'd gotten over Twilight, or given you a chance sooner—"
"By that logic, it's on me, too. I could've made a move on you. Tried to make things right with you sooner than I did." Sunset nudges his arm. "Or maybe if I'd been a good person in the first place, you wouldn't have had to dump me before the Fall Formal."
She falls silent, staring up at the humming fluorescent lights. Instinct tells Flash to take her hand; instead, he simply watches her.
Finally, Sunset continues. "Then again, if I was a good person when I came through the mirror, I never would have left Equestria in the first place. So, you were right. We were doomed no matter what."
Flash looks down at his feet. "You've been thinking about this a lot."
"So have you." Sunset pushes off the wall and dusts herself off, sighing. "But life's too short to indulge in hypotheticals, Flash. Things turned out the way that they did. Now, you have a chance at something else."
Flash touches his boutonniere, blushing. "I don't know about all that."
"That's for you and her to figure out. Whatever you do, though... don't let it become another what-if." She reaches out and cups his face, tracing his cheek with her thumb. Then she leaves, tugging her shawl around her shoulders.
Flash watches her until she's out of sight. Then, with a wince, he rushes into the restroom.
Flash, already baking in his tuxedo, finds no relief in the hot, stuffy auditorium. But seeing Muffins's face light up as he approaches her table makes the heat bearable.
"You took your time," she remarks, sipping from a half-full cup of punch. She slides another cup toward him as he takes a seat. "I was starting to wonder if you fell in."
"I did. Almost drowned." Flash sips the fruity mixture; it's tasty, but there's a hint of something in there that he can't put his finger on. Something strong, oddly sour. "Sorry about earlier, by the way. With Cheerilee. I know I could've handled that better."
"Probs." Muffins makes a face. "I can top it though. Snips and Snails were at the punch bowl when I got these drinks, and Snips asked if I'd 'Flashed you my Muff' yet."
Flash scans the room, his fists clenching. "You want me to kick their asses?"
"Kinda. You probably shouldn't."
"Well, the night is young." Flash swirls his drink around. "Funny how so many people keep getting the wrong idea about us tonight."
Muffins frowns. She chugs her punch, sets the cup down, and drums her fingers on the table. "Listen, Flash..."
Flash sips his drink and leans forward in his seat. "Yeah?"
"Would it..." Muffins takes a deep breath, her hands clenching and unclenching tensely. "Would it be so bad if, maybe... if they had the right idea, after all?"
Flash lets the question, and all its implications, wash over him. He reclines back in his chair, tilting his head to stare at the ceiling. A spotlight shines on a gently turning mirror ball, sending pinpricks of light, like stars, spinning through the room.
"...No." He looks at Muffins, at the hope and the dread mingling on her features. "You know I'm leaving soon, though. I don't know how often I'll come back. When I'll come back."
"I can wait," she says, a little too quickly.
"But you shouldn't have to. You don't deserve to..." Flash slumps forward, pressing his hand to his forehead. "God. Y'know, lately, all I can think about is my amazing sense of timing."
Nimble fingers cup his chin, tilt his head up, until he's level with Muffins. Her dress, caught in the starfield cast by the mirror ball, sparkles.
"You think too much," she says. "I know you're going away, Flash. You've got that big, bright future ahead of you; I know how much you want it. But all of that... just for one night, can't it wait?"
She sounds confident, but he can feel her hand shaking on his face. He takes it in his own, rises, and pulls her to his feet with him.
"I guess it can."
Muffins' face blanks with disbelief. Then she buries her face in Flash's chest and releases a long, shuddering sigh. Flash holds her, and marvels at just how right she feels in his arms.
He feels like he always should have known she would.
"I'm going to drag you onto the dance floor later," Muffins proclaims, craning her head back to look up at him. "I'm a professional, so don't make me look bad."
Flash laughs, and cups the back of her head with his hand. "Okay."
Then he pulls her close, and she rests her head on his breast. They sway against the beat of the music. Flash strokes her hair, and looks up.
He spots Sunset on the far side of the room, chatting with Twilight. By chance, she catches sight of him, smiling when she sees who he's holding.
Slowly, Sunset blows him a final kiss. Flash catches it, and pockets it, and rests his cheek on Muffins's head, closing his eyes.
Come what may tomorrow, he’s gonna enjoy tonight.