//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 
// Story: Doubleblind 
// by MaxKodan 
//------------------------------//

Years later, Sunset sat on her couch, her nails digging into her arms. She could feel herself shaking. Her phone lay on the floor, some distance away, where she’d thrown it on reflex when she opened the email.
“Shit,” she whispered to herself, then repeated it a few times for good measure. She could still see the screen—she preferred a long idle timer—spilling an artificial white light over the morning’s natural orange.
She forced herself to stand, but that just got her pacing across her living room. She needed to think, but she couldn’t focus on figuring out what she needed to do. She was too busy mulling over the implications of needing to do it in the first place.
The first pictures had been a surprise, to be sure. A strip of photo booth photos from one of the old clunkers in the mall. It had been moved and replaced since by something that didn’t audibly whir when you sat in it. The top one was of herself, fists on her waist and chin thrown out in that “Damn right I’m better than you” attitude she’d used to have. The next one had slapped her with a wet sack of emotions.
Chrysalis had barged into the photo booth, and the picture had been taken before either of them were ready. Chrys had nearly slapped her in the effort, and Sunset, in flinching away, had gone halfway out the other side. The result was actually impressive, like they were dashing through on some kind of chase. In the third picture their arms were thrown around each other’s shoulders and were just starting to grin, but by the last one they’d gotten their act together.
Of course, “getting their act together” meant Chrysalis flipping off the camera and Sunset pointing at the fingers in gleeful approval.
She hadn’t forgotten Chrysalis, of course. Not really. But there was a mutual understanding between them. Chrysalis said something, and neither of them believed it.
“I once armwrestled a whole football team into submission.”
“My uncle left me a few hundred grand and I’ve been living off the interest. I’m not much on the rich life.”
“That house? Actually haunted. Like, a real ghost.”
“I’ll come back.”
“I love you.”
And then, the present day. Sunset woke up, got coffee, collapsed on the couch, checked her new email, and there it was. A single selfie. Chrysalis held the phone, grinning like an idiot. Sunset was midway through an uncontrolled laugh. The kind of real laugh she could never have pulled off before she made real friends.
That was her first hint. Then she noticed a lot of things in quick succession. A way of parting her hair she’d never tried. A hoodie she’d never owned. A dress Chrysalis had definitely never worn around her. She realized that it was taken very, very recently. And she realized that she wasn’t in this picture at all.
All Sunset could see after that was the eyes. Chrysalis’s emerald gaze—which anyone in the world would seem bright and happy, highlighting a joyful grin, maybe tinged with a bit of youthful mischief and resolute pride—pierced her heart like jagged icicles. She’d experienced a lot of looks in her life. Fear, disdain, disgust even. This was cold, calculated hatred.
Her phone’s screen turned off and hid Chrysalis’s accusing glare. She stooped to pick it up, shoved it as deeply into her pocket as she could, and took in a deep breath. By the time she let it out, she was as ready to go as she would ever be. She climbed up to the mezzanine to fish her duffel bag out from under her bed.
An hour later, she was sufficiently convinced that she’d only forgotten one or two things, and that none of them were important. She shoved the bag into the trunk of her Firebird, slammed it closed, and—
“Road trip?”
—And let out a little scream.
“Oh! Wow! Rainbow Dash!” Sunset gasped and pressed a hand to her heart. Dash’s eyes were lit with what was supposed to look like excitement. Sunset might have bought it had Dash not been hastily turning her staggering backstep away from her outburst into a cool wall-lean.
“You, ah, look like you’re getting ready to go somewhere,” Dash said, nodding at the car. “Were you going to say anything to us, or were you just gonna text us from the road?”
Sunset felt a flush of embarrassment tint her cheeks. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s just something I need to take care of myself.”
“Sure.”
“Just a day or two, out and back. Nobody would even have time to miss me.”
“Probably not.”
She stared, trying to figure out if she should say something else or if she should have stopped two pointless justifications ago. “Well, if anyone asks…?”
“Oh you got it, personal journey and whatever. I’m not gonna spill any secrets.”
Sunset hesitated. Something didn’t feel right. She gave an awkward wave as she rounded to the driver side door. She closed it behind her.
Another car door slammed a few moments later. Sunset looked up to see Rainbow Dash trying to figure out how to lean the passenger seat back. She succeeded and dropped half a foot with a “Woah!”
Sunset just left her hand on the key. “Absolutely not.”
“What? Does leaning the seat back hurt the upholstery or something?”
“You’re not coming with me.”
“Yeah, see…” Dash scratched her head and pulled out her phone. “You’re outranked on this one.”
Sunset let her hand drop to her lap, but her foot stayed on the brake anyway, as if it would stop them from moving the parked car. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dash turned her phone towards her. On it was a text conversation.


	-Y’all up?
-I am now can I change the ringtone yet?
-No. Keep an eye on Sunset for me today.
-shes a big girl
-I saw her pacing in her room and grabbing her bag through her big ol’ window.
-thats not creepy
-Hush. I’m on my way to the bake sale so I need you for this.
-ugh fine but im telling her its your idea


There was, indeed, supposed to be a bake sale going on outside one or the other of the shops, and the walk would have brought Applejack right past her house. Sunset flicked her eyes up from the screen to Dash, who was staring out the window.
“See? Out of my hands. And before you try to comfort me, I’m not gonna be the one to tell AJ I just let you drive off to who-knows-where with a suitcase and a pout.”
A glower, no matter how long it lasted, wouldn’t suffice. Sunset sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Fine. Two conditions. First? No one, and I mean no one hears the specifics of this trip.”
“Who am I going to tell?”
“Applejack.”
“Okay, well yeah, I can’t really help that.”
That was probably true. “Fine, then no one else.”
“Yeah, yeah. Cross my heart. What are we going to do?”
Sunset started the car and pulled away. “Give me a minute to shake this off. We might be there overnight, do you want to stop at your house?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess we should do that.”
Sunset sighed and hooked left instead of right. This was going to be an awkward trip.



“CHRYSAMMPH!?”
Sunset slapped a hand over Dash’s mouth and gave the gas station clerk an apologetic smile. “Yes. I...she got back in touch with me, and I’m worried.”
Dash pulled herself away from Sunset’s hand. “So you’re just going to see her? Shouldn’t you be like...staying as far away as possible?”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said. She pulled out her phone and showed the picture of “herself” and Chrysalis.
Dash grabbed a bag of chips and looked it over. “Yeah, not seeing how this makes you worried about anyone else.”
“That’s not me.”
“...Yes it is.”
“No, listen, it’s me, but it’s not me.” She got a blank look in response. She lowered her voice. “Remember how Twilight came from the other world, and then later we met Twilight?”
“Yeah?”
“I came from the other world.”
Dash looked a little too absorbed in reading the back of the bag. “So...Chrysalis went and found the other you?”
Sunset just looked at her, grim as the grave.
Dash put the chips down, taking another look at the phone. “Your ex is messed up, Red.”
With a sigh, Sunset pocketed her phone. She snatched a random bag off the shelf. “If it helps, she’s not my ex: we never officially broke up.”
“Why would that help?”
Sunset headed for the counter. “I was hoping it would make one of us feel better.” And, to the cashier, “Ten on two.”
Back in the car, Dash had already tucked into some cheese puffs. “Y’know, Chrysalis was pretty nice way back before you showed up. Always thought you were the bad influence on her, not the other way around.”
“Can we not play the blame game?” She started the car and eased back onto the road. “No one comes out looking good.”
“You came out lookin’ pretty good.”
“Stop.”
“Okay but seriously, are you sure you’re not making too big a deal out of this? So she’s hanging with someone who looks exactly like you. It’s weird, but what’s the problem?”
The road was too straight for Sunset’s liking. These sorts of stretches always made her zone out, and she itched to yank the wheel to the side just for something different to do. “If they were just hanging out, it’d be fine. But she’s doing this to get at me, and that means the other Sunset is in a lot of danger.” She winced—Dash had rolled down her window and was now angling her face into the wind.
“What’s she got against you? She’s the one that bailed.”
“I’m not sure.” They passed a sign. Sixteen miles to go. “But I’m not taking chances.”