Rarity hated prom season. This year more than ever.
It was Sweetie Belle's senior year. As usual, flocks of innocent youths would rush to her boutique, inquire about a custom tailored dress, balk at the price, and run off to another business. Thankfully, the small number of actual commissions was enough to keep her busy and her shop running a few more months.
She spent the morning discussing designs with her client over tea. A father and daughter, both dressed in fabrics Rarity could only dream of using herself. A part of her cringed as she noticed the tacky dollar sign lapel pin and garish tie.
The daughter was just as gaudy, wearing a tiara that Rarity sincerely hoped was just costume jewelry. Though she was familiar with who the girl was.
The seamstress fought the rising bile in her throat as she recalled painful memories. She swallowed it with a bit of chamomile. This is a job, she reminded herself, taking in the warmth. You need the money.
"The parcel with the requested materials will arrive no later than eight tomorrow morning," the man said. Rarity glanced at his hairy knuckles, then at the class ring on his left hand. "The value of the — are you even listening?"
"You wanted me open the boutique early and receive the parcel," she summarized. She leaned forwards and took his hands into hers, tensing at their warmth. She put on her winning smile. "Are you by chance wearing a Canterlot High class ring?"
A smile cracked his stony face. "Why, yes. I suppose I have been a tad sentimental for my alma mater lately. It made me—"
"The man who I am today," the daughter continued, her eyes wandering the boutique. "Spare me the lecture. It's bad enough you're making me go there."
"It builds character," he countered. "A little public school never hurt anyone."
"I also attended Canterlot High myself," Rarity said. She leaned back in her seat.
"See?" the father asked, tilting his head.
The girl rolled her eyes, her gaze landing on a framed photograph. She stared down at her shoes. "She's your sister, huh?"
Rarity nodded. "Yes."
"I didn't know her, but she seemed nice."
Liar. Rarity fought the urge to cancel the meeting outright. Perhaps she could even spill her tea on the dress sketches.
Unfortunately, she already took the deposit and used it to pay her rent. She wouldn't have agreed to it had she known her client was her sister's bully. However, what's done was done, and she would be kicking herself over it.
The girl continued to study everything in the boutique, greedily taking in sights that Rarity didn't want her to have. Everything came to a halt when her gaze landed on a simple silver dress in the storefront.
"How much is the one on the display?" asked the girl. "It's the most beautiful gown I've ever seen."
"Money is no issue," said the father.
Rarity felt cold. "That one's not for sale."