"A beauty pageant, huh?" Sugarcoat asked. The judgement was clear in her tone as she typed on her phone, not even bothering to look up. Even then, that didn’t stop her from drinking her lemonade as she leaned over the plastic table to drink. “Doesn’t sound like you. Is it for a scholarship or something?"
"For fun," I said, picking at at the ice cream I ordered. I didn’t want to be the only one at the table that didn’t grab anything from the food court. “I’m doing it alongside my girlfriend.”
"Cute!" Lemon chirped, putting her hands to her cheeks.
Sugarcoat leaned in. "How serious is it?"
I turned my head. "The competition or my relationship?"
"The pageant, dummy."
"Oh," I said. "I'd like to win, just so I can lord it over Sunset. She'd probably do the same if she won."
Sugarcoat nodded, still staring down at her screen and seemingly dictating the words of the goddess on her phone. "So you want dirt?"
"Dirt?"
"I was the head of opposition research for Fleur de Lis' class president campaign, remember?” Sugarcoat finally looked up from her phone. "You brought this up to me for a reason, didn't you?"
"What? N-no!" I stammered. "I won't do that to her."
Sugarcoat shrugged. "So? Fleur ran against her beau. We found he was cheating on her with a girl from CHS. That was..." She smiled wistfully, intertwining her fingers together. "The best."
I wiped my hands off in the lap. "No thanks, none of that, please."
Sugarcoat pouted. "Boo, your girl would have been such a fun mark. She has to have some skeletons in her closet.” She snapped and pointed at the air. “I bet she smokes."
I sneered. "No she doesn't."
“A bisexual, leather jacket wearing biker chick who’s in a rock band and has a preppy girlfriend,” Sugarcoat listed off the cuff. “If she’s not smoking something, she’s not reaching her full potential.”
“Thank. You.” Lemon Zest clapped out both words. “Just last week, I was telling Twilight how cool her girlfriend is. She probably even has a tattoo on her ass.”
“That’s a given,” Sugarcoat said. “The only question is what?”
“Something trashy, I bet,” Indigo Zap piled on. “A butterfly. Maybe an ex’s name.”
“My stepmom has her ex-boyfriend’s name tattooed on her back,” Sour Sweet added. “It’s hilarious.”
“Dude, if I had a tattoo for every ex-boyfriend I had, I’d have a whole freakin’ sleeve.” Lemon Zest stretched her arm out and cocked her head. “Actually, that sounds pretty dope. Sunny, let me borrow your pen.”
Sunny Flare rolled her eyes but humored her anyway. The rest of us just watched as Lemon started writing on her wrist.
“Jet Set, Fancy Pants, Neon Lights…”
Sugarcoat turned to me. “If you decide you want to take winning seriously. The offer still stands.”
“...Rising Star, Royal Pin, Zephyr Breeze…” Lemon Zest scrunched her nose and scribbled over the last name. “Trenderhoof…”
“I don’t know…” I bit my tongue then used some ice cream to soothe the pain. I wanted to know, but I’d rather Sunset tell me herself. Going behind her back wasn’t right.
“Mr. Bathos…” Everyone turned to Lemon, who only looked back at us as if we were the ones who’d admitted to dating a teacher. “What?”
“The literature teacher?” Sunny Flare asked, jaw hanging.
Lemon shrugged. “Used to have the biggest crush on him freshman year. I had detention with him once during lunch, so I’m counting that as a date.” She snapped her fingers as if trying to recall more names. “Sunny Flare—just future proofing here.”
“You’re not even into girls.” Sunny crossed her arms.
“I’m into you, baby.” Lemon flashed her the cheesiest grin, coupled with finger guns. “And done!” Lemon announced. Sure enough, her arm was covered in inky names written in cursive.
“That’s a lot of exes,” I noted, covering the obvious. Even then, I was just being judgy again. I shouldn’t have even said anything.
“Don’t slut shame me, dude.” She showed off her arm to the others. “I think it’s pretty empowering. All the boys I’ve told to get bent.” She rubbed at a specific spot on her arm. “Except for you, Ragamuffin, you tragically fleeting, foreign exchange hottie, you.”
All the other girls giggled. We spent the rest of our little hangout letting Lemon explain her dating life and how she fell in and out of love so easily. Everything from awkward matches online to perfect nights at summer camp.
Eventually, my phone went off. It was Sunset, and I suddenly remembered that I had other plans today than to experience Lemon Zest’s love life.
I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Have to go, girls. I promised Sunset that we’d go together to get fitted for our pageant dresses.”
“You are living your best gay life, and I’m so jealous,” Sunny Flare said. She grabbed my wrist and stared me straight in the eyes. “How?”
“I asked.”
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
"Who would have thought I'd be making you a dress for the Spring Fling again?" Rarity mused, her voice muffled slightly as she bit down on a piece of measuring tape.
Sunset winced. "Please don't remind me."
I looked up from my phone and caught a pair of unsure glances between the two. It was all I could really see from the other side of the partition.
"Water under the bridge," Rarity said with a nod, which I figured was some sort of acknowledgement of a previous conversation. "Besides, it was a hideous dress."
"Rarity."
"Sunset, don't tense up like that.” Rarity stretched the tape around Sunset’s shoulders. "I want this to be accurate. You've put on a healthy weight since then. Oh, you should have seen her, Twilight, such a rail thin little thing."
"Thanks, mom," Sunset said with a bite. "Care to tell her about my cutie mark?"
That's a weird term to call a birthmark.
I fought the urge to ask what happened. There was a story there, clearly. However, it seemed like neither were willing to open up that well. Actually, it was more like Sunset didn’t want to talk about it. Someday was beginning to seem a lot farther off than I thought.
“Still, I’m very proud of you, Sunset.” Rarity scribbled down on her note pad. “It’s courageous of you to put yourself out for judgment in front of your peers again.”
Comments like that only worked to dig its way into my mind. I tried my best to ignore it, but it had likely already found its place deep into some part of my subconscious.
“It’s not a big deal.” Sunset rolled her shoulders and raised her arms as Rarity continued to make measurements. She glanced over the partition. “Hey, Twi, you still curious about my measurements?”
I buried my face in my hands. “Sunset…”
“Inside joke, I presume?” Rarity asked.
“Yeah, you know how Twilight was when she was crushing on me.”
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“You weren’t exactly subtle." Sunset laughed as she turned to me. “You had it real bad for me.”
I laughed defensively. "What?”
"You were like a lost little puppy following someone home,” Rarity said, joining in on the teasing. “It really was obvious to everyone.”
“Okay, I’ve officially had enough of this topic.”
“Good.” Sunset emerged from the partition. “Cause it’s your turn to get measured up.” She slipped on her jacket. “I’m gonna go out for a walk while you get fitted. I need the air.” She smirked over to Rarity. “Keep it professional. She’s mine.”
My legs supported me a little less when she called me hers.
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
I had a vague idea of what I was going to do for my performance at the Spring Fling. I was going to play piano and sing. About what, I didn’t know. That became even more obvious as I sat down at the keys, something I hadn’t done in a long time.
Thankfully, it felt natural to play again, even if the the last time I really sat down and practiced was before I even transferred to Canterlot High.
Most of the songs I played were love songs, unsurprisingly. They lent themselves well to the piano. It could be performed solo, for all your lonely and pining pieces. In duet, four hands dancing around and with each other. Or even accompaniment with another instrument, like the guitar, for a totally random example.
Okay, I wanted to sing love songs with my girlfriend. Sue me. If I could (trust me, I asked), I would have performed the talent portion of the pageant with Sunset. Maybe we could have “ponied up” together. Maybe I could feel what she felt.
The door to the study flew open, and my father practically dragged himself to the large recliner in the corner. As a good luck charm, he made it a habit to not shave or cut his hair while in production, but he looked much more beat up than usual.
“Welcome back!”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
I tapped a quick string of chords. “No, not really.”
“Oh, you’re playing again. Lovely.” I could hear his smile through his beard. “Thought you dropped it after you joined your new band.”
Annoyed chords. “I just had trouble finding time to practice. Now I have a good reason.”
“Which is?”
“Got a new performance coming up,” I answered, dancing around whether I should mention the pageant. I decided not to. “So, how’s the movie coming along?”
He groaned. “I’ve had… a week.”
I chuckled. “Sounds intense. Was it the big Mexicolt shoot?”
“No, those two months of torture are another few weeks off.“ His laugh was riddled with pain. He ran a hand through his greasy hair. “Every project’s cursed in its own way. This one is named Yearling.”
“Ouch.” I closed the cover over the piano’s keys. “I know she’s Mom’s friend and all, but if it’s that bad…”
He shrugged. “Trust me, it was worse when we were younger. We’ve only gotten kinder with age. Besides, she’s more than just a family friend. She’s also your godmother.”
Wait, what?
“Okay, how’d the heck did Mom talk you into that?”
“It’s a long story,” he said. He rubbed at his chin for a moment but continued, thankfully. “Yearling cut us out from her life when she found out your mother and I were getting married. It was ugly.”
I didn’t know how to process the idea of one of my favorite authors hating my parents.
He rubbed at the top of his thigh. “She shut us out because she was afraid we’d leave her behind. Of course, your mother would never let that happen, but any attempts to reconnect were shutdown.”
“So what happened?” I was leaning on the piano.
“Then we had you. Your mother got the idea to ask Yearling to be your godmother. It was perfect, really. You know how writers love their symbols. Yearling took it as a declaration that she always has a spot in the family.”
“Wait.” Something clicked. I jumped from the piano and towards the bookshelf. I didn’t have to search long to find my copy of the first Daring Do book—the one that apparently Yearling herself gave me for my birthday. I tore through to the dedication at the front: “To my goddaughter, my new light. That’s me!?”
“Yeah?”
I hit him with the book. “And you never thought to bring it up!?”
He laughed. “Your mother made me swear not to share the story until you were old enough to appreciate it. Apparently, you don’t yet.”
“Then why now?”
He sunk deeper into the chair. “I needed the reminder. I trusted her with my baby, and she’s trusting me with hers. Daring Do’s a very personal character for her if you read between the lines.”
I thought about it: Daring Do was fiercely independent and had trouble letting people in, mostly because they’d betray her at some point in the story. Yearling milked it for all it was worth in book four, when Daring refused to rely on others even with her broken arm.
It kind of reminded me of Sunset with how headstrong they both were.
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
“What’cha doin’, babe?”
“Gah!” I nearly jumped from my desk, and I was also very close to throwing electronics parts everywhere. I swiveled from my chair to face her. “How’d you get in?”
“Your parent’s let me in,” she answered. “They look busy.”
I nodded. I was surprised they even noticed Sunset coming in. They were leaving for Mexicolt soon for the on location scenes.
“Your turn to answer,” she said.
“Oh, I was just tinkering.”
“Is that your phone?” Sunset leaned over my shoulder and examined the neatly organized parts of what was my cellphone. “So that’s why you haven’t replied to any of my texts.”
I offered a sheepish laugh and turned back to my project. “Sorry, I might’ve gotten a little carried away. I just got curious about the internal engineering after I… watched this video. Then I figured I could take my phone apart and study it myself.
“There’s actually a lot of really neat tech jammed into this thing that I can incorporate in my own designs for spatial efficiency. There’s a gyroscope, an accelerometer—both of which work together for the GPS—a barometer for weather apps—I don’t really know why I’d need an infrared sensor on my phone, but I guess it’s nice to have. Unfortunately, most of the computing parts like the memory and processor are soldered onto the motherboard, which makes it a little annoying that I can’t really upgrade anything other than the battery and maybe the antenna. That’s not even getting into the software.
“Like, most phones have roughly the same internals, but it’s software that makes the true difference.” I leaned over and carefully lifted the camera unit between two fingers and showed it to Sunset. “Take the camera, for example. The lens are made by the same few companies, but the proprietary post-processing software decides aesthetics like sharpness, color saturation, and of course, the portrait mode for all the selfies we take together. So some consumers prefer the look of one phone’s pictures over the other.
“But I’m getting off-course,” I said, placing the lens down. “What I found really interesting during my research about these being the same phones on the inside is that that the phone manufacturers play a strategic game with each other in terms of innovation. That’s why phone screens have been getting bigger by the year. It creates the illusion of innovation.
“However, if you remember from Econ class, the question of whether to actually innovate kind of plays like the Equilibrium Problem in game theory, which I find endlessly fascinating. All the phone companies were fine with bigger screens and faster processors. Then the uPhone suddenly removed the headphone jack to push bluetooth products like wireless headphones.
“This left the other manufacturers at an impasse. Do they cooperate and keep the headphone port, position themselves as consumer friendly brands, and offer a legitimate hardware alternative to make sales since they’re losing the software war? Or do they follow Citrus’ example and position themselves early for the growing wireless audio market? Reminder, if they stay unified, in equilibrium, the industry-wide resistance might be enough for Citrus to course correct and return to using the jack, keeping them from gaining an advantage and the markets the same. So what did they do?
“They did the worst thing, which was act in their self interest. Some companies kept the jack and hurt themselves by losing an opportunity at market share in the bluetooth industry. The others removed the jack but didn’t come close to gaining a leg up in the markets because if consumers were going to buy a jack-less phone, then they’d go with… you guessed it, the one with the most familiar software suite and operating system.
“Now all phones are slowly removing it, and the big winner in all this is Citrus as they now lead in wireless headphone sales and keep their grip on cellphone market share. Of course, this glosses over other factors like Citrus’ effort into marketing itself as a luxury brand rather than just a tech comp… What?”
Sunset chuckled. It was breathy and unfocused. She shook her head, and her curls bounced with her. “Sorry, I got lost once I started thinking about how much I loved hearing you talk. You get really cute when you're excited and rambly.”
“I, uh, heh, eeee, yeah. Very thank.” My face burned, and all the breath left my body.
Sunset laughed again and took my hands. “That speech was the second most impressive thing you could’ve done with your mouth.”
“What’s the first?” I asked. Then she whispered impure words into my ear, and I immediately regretted it. I pushed her off. “Sunset!”
She cackled this time and took a deep breath. “Okay, but seriously, piece your phone back together. I missed texting my girlfriend.” She retreated to my bed and flopped down onto it. “Sweet Cel… do you sleep on a cloud? It’s been forever since I’ve slept on a bed this nice.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I chose to focus on putting my phone back together instead. “So, tomorrow’s the big day. You nervous?”
“Nah, odds are in our favor, right?” she responded. “I would definitely not mind losing to you.”
“I wouldn’t mind losing to you either.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she joked, nestling into my bed. “If we’re still talking game theory, we can both throw the pageant and let Trixie win.” She yawned. “She deserves it more than me.”
“You deserve it.”
“I deserve this nap,” she countered. “Work nearly broke me.” She rolled over onto her stomach and hugged one of my pillows. “Text me when you’re done.”
“Sure.” I focused back onto the desk and lowered the volume of the engineering podcast I had playing on my laptop.
“Keep it on,” she hummed. “It helps me sleep.”
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
“Gah! Not so tight!”
I bit my cheek as Rarity continued to tighten the dress around me. Cutting off my blood flow certainly was one way to keep my heart from racing. The Miss. Wondercolt Pageant was about to start, and I was half-naked in the school’s band room.
“Sorry, dear, I just need to make sure it’s on right.”
I could feel my organs slide up into my chest as she tied the back. I let out another pained yelp along with the last bit of air in my body, but that did nothing to stop her from making sure my waistline was unrealistically shapely.
“Is it being this tight really going to help me win?”
“Not at all, not that you need the help,” she answered. “I’m confident that either you or Sunset will be crowned princess next week.”
“What about the other girls? Surely they have a shot.”
“They’re not wearing my dresses,” Rarity said with a smirk. “And I’m not one to gossip, but I’ve heard other students find Lyra a bit abrasive. The whole school also just humors Trixie’s little magic tricks. They never seem to go right.”
“Right.” It was reassuring to hear that I at least had a shot.
“Alright.” Rarity stepped back and surveyed her work, holding her chin. “Sit tight while I go help Sunset with her dress.”
“You can bring her in here,” I said. “You don’t have to run between rooms.”
Rarity shook her head. “Nope. I want to preserve some surprise for when you two step up onto the stage. I don’t want either of you to see the other before it’s time. I must preserve that 'whoa' moment.”
“Rarity, we’re not getting married.”
“Funny that your thoughts went there, dear.” Rarity poked at my intricately styled hair. “Besides, these dresses have nothing on the one I have sketched up for your wedding.”
“M-my wedding!?” I stammered. My face felt warm. “Sunset and I haven’t thought that far.”
Rarity giggled. “Again, your mind went there, not mine. I just meant to say that I’ve sketched up a wedding dress for every one of the girls, not just you and Sunset. It’s great practice, and it fills out my portfolio.”
“Oh,” I said sheepishly. “Okay.”
She rubbed my shoulder. “Though, I suppose, I could always tweak the design in case you two do tie the knot.”
My face felt like it was on fire. Rarity only giggled before ducking out the room. I wasn't sure if the blood rushing to my head was from her comments or the dress forcing it up to my cheeks like a rolled up tube of toothpaste.
Then my phone buzzed, and I awkwardly stooped over to dig it out from my bag. It was the girls from Crystal Prep, all wishing me luck at the pageant. I thanked them all before realizing that Sugarcoat had sent something different:
There’s something about your girl I think you should know.
I threw my phone back into my bag, immediately knowing that I wanted nothing to do with whatever dirt she found. It buzzed again, but I just ignored it. If I lost without it, then so be it. If Sugarcoat was acting in my interest, fine I could have a talk about it with her later, but I was acting in mine.
“Trixie thought she would never leave.”
My head whipped towards the source of the noise. Apparently, there was a rather large and conspicuous blue box sitting in the corner of the room. A half-second later, Trixie emerged, posing dramatically to accentuate her entrance.
“How long have you been in there?”
“Forty-five minutes.”
“Oh.” I hugged myself out of modesty. “Oh.”
Trixie walked over to the dress on display, sized it up, and clicked her tongue.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Trixie is scouting the competition. Again.” She pinched the shoulder of the gown and studied the fabric. “She is not impressed.”
I looked over her choice of wear for the pageant’s opening ceremony. “Is that what you’re wearing?” I asked, too late to catch the catty judgement in my tone. I hate that they pointed it out.
“Trixie designed it herself,” she said, striking another pose, stretching her arms out. The sleeves were a few inches short from her wrist, and I noticed a tear under her right arm. I hid a smirk under my hand.
“Why the sleeves?” I couldn’t help it.
“Though the winter may be waning, I still prefer to keep warm.” She pinched at her cuff and winked.
Nodding, I rolled my shoulders, still trying to loosen the gown. “So I take it you don’t have any tricks up your sleeve?”
“Of course not. Any magic comes purely from Trixie’s natural connection to the mystical forces.”
“Right,” I said. I leaned back into my seat. “Can you do one for me?”
“Of course.” She pointed her nose to the air, keeping her chin held high. “I'll give you a taste of my routine for tonight. Perhaps it will inspire you to drop out of the competition."
She stood still for a moment and closed her eyes. She flicked her wrist, and a foul smelling liquid squirted out from her sleeve and onto the floor.
“That’s it?”
“There was supposed to be smoke and fire,” Trixie said, rubbing her forearm. “Certain kinks need to be ironed out. Thank you for the practice. Now if you’ll excuse Trixie.” She rushed towards the door. “It appears that I may have misplaced my mice.”
She left the room, and I immediately brought my feet up to the seat and hugged my knees. About five or so minutes later, Rarity returned. Her nose immediately crinkled at the scent of lighter fluid.
“What’s that smell?”
“Magic.”
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
After Rarity helped me slip on my dress (and a quick photo shoot for her portfolio), she led me down the halls and towards the back entrance of the auditorium. She held my hand the entire way through as I struggled to balance on the high heels she insisted I wear. They were much too tall for my liking, but I couldn't say no.
She brought me in for a quick hug before flicking her fingers as if she was sprinkling off drops of water. “Sending good vibes your way, dear. Best of luck.”
Backstage was dim, and I could barely make out the immediate area. A lot of it was just tucked away props and lights for the school plays. Though, I did see one of the stagehands waving me over. I hobbled towards him, slowly getting better at walking.
“You’re gonna stand here and enter towards center stage when they call out your name,” he said in a low whisper.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a deep breath.
I stood there for a few minutes as the master of ceremonies droned on about the evening’s events. It was standard pageant fare with the whole formal wear, talent, and Q&A. There was no swimsuit portion, thankfully. Though, I couldn’t help but wonder what Sunset would have worn.
I didn’t have much time to think on it as the emcee began to call out our names. Lyra was first, then Trixie, then Sunset, and then me. I took a breath, and did my best attempt to walk out with grace and meet the others.
Whoa.
My eyes gravitated towards Sunset, who was already looking back at me. I stalled in place, which I figured was the exact reaction that Rarity was hoping for. It took me a full few seconds to continue walking as I shook my thoughts away and joined her at the front of the stage.
As the emcee droned on, I glanced towards Sunset and felt my heart speed up. I noticed she was looking back at me. We both looked at each others’ dresses, admiring the outfit and the person inside it. Then I realized just how evil Rarity was: we were wearing each other’s colors.
I rubbed at my elbow. “Rarity did a great job with your dress.”
“I was just about to say the same thing,” she whispered back. “She found a way to really bring out your curves.”
My curves?
I glanced down at my dress, trying to figure out what she was talking about. I found nothing. Looking back up at Sunset, I noticed the sly smirk on her face and a stifled laugh. She winked, and I felt my face flare up. The tightness of my corset didn’t even let me take in a decent breath to calm down.
“Can you two not do this on stage?” Lyra snapped, talking out the side of her mouth.
“Trixie agrees and suggests you two get a room.”
I balled my hands into fists and bit the inside of my cheek. They were right. I would have much preferred to have this conversation in the privacy of a closed room. But no. My blush was on display for everyone in the auditorium to see.
These are just mind games Sunset told you straight to your face that she'd do this. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.
I looked to the audience. The rest of the girls were already in the front row. And of course, Rarity had already began snapping pictures with her phone, immortalizing my flustered face for her portfolio.
"Now that we've met out latest class of lovely ladies, let's get to know them a little better with a little Q&A!"
Okay. We were starting off simple. That I could appreciate. In my experience, I had won pageants off the Q&A portion alone. Sure, it had been a while—a long while, actually—but it couldn’t have been much different. Besides, the person I wanted to like me the most was already my girlfriend. This was just for fun. Sunset seemed to be taking it in stride.
I followed the rest of the candidates towards a table set at the center of the stage and took a seat next to Sunset only to find Pinkie Pie waiting for us with a handful of flashcards in her hands (because of course she was). She bounced in place,
"Pinkie?"
"Yep, yep!" she answered with a lilt. "Get ready, cause these questions are some doozies."
"Oh, gods, not again.” Lyra sunk into her seat.
"SO!" Pinkie chirped, flipping through her cards. "Let's start with some off super duper, easy-peasy questions. Everyone, why did you decide to sign up for a chance to be this year’s Ms. Wondercolt?" She leaned forward and practically shoved the microphone into Lyra’s face.
"My girlfriend made me do it," Lyra answered, staring daggers at her partner, who sat in the front row next to my group of friends. Bon Bon only held her hands up into a heart and grinned.
"How 'bout you, Sunset Shimmer?”
Sunset shrugged and gestured to me. "My girlfriend made me do it."
Then the spotlight was on me. "Uh, my girlfriend made me do it?"
Trixie tugged at her collar and swallowed as she leaned into the microphone. "Trixie made... Trixie do it." She put her hands down on her lap. "We are very close."
There was a small bit of laughter from the audience. I found myself slouching in my seat to avoid the secondhand embarrassment. If it continued like this, it was going to feel more like an interrogation for the poor girl.
"Great! All very lovely answers.” Pinkie shuffled her cards and hummed. Her smile went wide as she stopped at a card. "LyLy, If you were an ice cream flavor, what would you be and why?"
Lyra scrunched her nose. "What kind of stupid question is that?"
I could hear Bon Bon's palm connect with her forehead all the way from here and even through the quick round of laughter.
Pinkie only shook off the insult and scribbled down in her notes. "I'm gonna put down Coffee because you're bitter but have a spunky energy to you."
"Sure, that works," Lyra said, leaning back into her seat.
"Hey, Sunny," Pinkie called, knocking onto the table. "Same question, if you were an ice cream flavor, which would you be?"
Sunset glanced over at me and smirked. "Chocolate, because it's Twilight's favorite." As if rehearsed, she leaned onto my shoulder as a resonant "aww" went through the auditorium.
Oh jeez, she's good.
She then said under her breath, "Also cause I'd like you to eat me."
I let out a yelp.
"You two are the worst.” Lyra groaned.
"Trixie agrees."
The spotlight’s heat was beginning to wear down on me. I tugged at the straps of my dress. Hopefully no one in the audience could tell I was starting to sweat. Then I realized Sunset probably could, and it only made me more self-aware. She knew what she was doing. She flashed another grin, and from then I knew Sunset Shimmer wasn’t trying to lose.
"Oh, Twily," Pinkie sang. “Your answer?"
I was still reeling from Sunset's comment. Her hand was on my knee—Cheater!—and I slapped it away. "Vanilla! Vanilla's good! Everyone loves a classic. It's nice, sweet, and… plain."
There was a mild applause from the audience. Sunset hid her laugh behind her hand. At least she got the message.
“Lulamooooooooon??”
"Also chocolate," Trixie said flatly before holding up a finger to elaborate. “However, with that hot chocolate sauce that hardens in seconds because Trixie finds it utterly confusing, yet enchanting."
There was a noticeably louder applause, with a rather boisterous "YEAH!" from the back row.
Well I blew that round.
Pinkie turned to her cards again, which gave me a few seconds to breathe (and I would have if the dress allowed it). “Alrighty, since you're all seniors, what's everyone planning on doing once they graduate? Let's start with TwiTwi."
"Uh, I’ve already committed to Everton—early decision—for their independent study program in mechanical engineering.” More polite applause. Sunset looked at me like she was caught off guard by my answer. She held onto my hand, as Pinkie moved on.
"Trixie's taking the first bus straight to Las Pegasus—" Her answer was interrupted by a loud applause and cheers. "—to follow her dreams and be a stage magician." The audience seemed to quiet down, and Trixie tugged at her sleeves. “Though, I did apply as a hospitality major at the University of Neighvada, Las Pegasus.”
"Vanhoover U, majoring in An—" Lyra took a sip of water. "Analytical statistics. Go Hoovers.”
All eyes were on Sunset now, and I was genuinely curious about her answer. I never thought to ask where she was going after CHS.
"I dunno," she said, looking down at her hands on the table. "I'll figure something out. Maybe take a gap year or something. I don’t think college is right for me anyways.”
The room was silent after her response.
"Same answer as last year," Lyra noted, her voice low.
That had to be a lie. It just didn’t make sense. Sunset could get into any school she wanted to. Was it a money issue? It couldn’t have been. With her grades, she could even get a free ride through scholarships.
From the sound of it, it seemed like she didn’t even want to try. There was no way she’d just throw away her future like that.
“Twilight!”
I yelped.
“What scares you?” Pinkie asked.
Don't say quesadillas. Don't say quesadillas. Don'tsayquesadillas.
“Uh, ques—questions! Unanswered questions.” I forced a laugh, and it came out like a cough. “Uncertainty. Is. Terrifying.”
Satisfied with scaring me half to death, Pinkie turned away. “Lyra, Lyra, Bo-Byra, Banana Fanna Fo—“
“Heights!”
Pinkie pouted but moved on. “Trixie?”
The magician stared off into the distance. “Trixie fears that after she becomes the greatest and most powerful stage magician, famed across the country, the loneliness she feels inside will not go away. Oh, and also heights.”
Everyone seemed to be thankful to move on—but not before Pinkie smiled and squeezed Trixie’s hand that seemed that said more than words could possibly accomplish.
Then all the attention was on Sunset again, and I could feel every pair of eyes in the room. I just was glad that I got my answer over with, but it wasn’t all that surprising to see that she didn’t want to answer.
Sunset crossed her arms, and the silence began to grate on everyone in the room. “Yeah, hard pass.”
“Well if that question’s too scary for you…” Pinkie teased as she looked through her cards. “Oh! What’s your favorite thing about your girlfriend? The mushier your answer, the better.”
Sunset looked at me, and I watched the sharp, guarded look in her eyes soften. A smile tugged at her lips. It was subtle, but it was there, and I knew she was struggling to find a place to start.
“When she knows who she is and what she wants, Twilight’s unstoppable.” The way she said it, it seemed like we were the only two people in the room. “You should see the way her eyes light up when she’s rambling about whatever she finds interesting. It’s amazing. It shows up in flashes, but it’s that kind of self-confidence I’d love to see more of.”
The dress had to be cutting off airflow to my brain because I was giggling like an idiot in front of everyone. I didn’t care.
—☀—
Intermission came after a few more rounds of painful questioning. I felt that I did alright in endearing myself to the audience, but Sunset was as captivating as ever. Perfect as always. Trixie was also surprisingly charming in all her awkward glory. I felt myself rooting for her the most, despite the fact that I was dating another contestant.
Trixie was on first as her routine had the most set up, which left the rest of us to wait in the back. From what I saw from behind the curtain, it seemed to be going well.
"That was quite the stunt," I said, taking a seat next to Sunset. "Pretty good mind-games you had going on. Almost had me there."
She laughed and brought her hand to her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about. I meant every word that I said." She held both my hands. "Every word."
"I'm going to vomit." Lyra pointed at her throat and gagged. "Hear that? That's bile."
Bon Bon held her girlfriend's hand and smiled apologetically. "Don't mind her. She's coffee."
"I'm coffee," Lyra repeated, sinking into her partner's shoulder.
Bon Bon giggled. “I would have loved to see what you would have said if you got Sunset’s question.”
“Better I didn’t,” Lyra answered with a shrug. “I don’t think you’d appreciate me telling everyone at school how much I like your butt.”
Bon Bon backhanded her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Don’t be gross.”
I hid my laugh behind my hand right before I felt something furry brush past my ankles.
"Copperfield, no!" Trixie cried, running past us and chasing after a stray rabbit. "You were supposed to hold still!"
Sunset laughed. "I guess that's our cue.”
"Still keeping your performance a secret?"
She nodded. "Don't worry, you'll see soon enough."
Sure enough, Sunset’s name was called next. I followed her as close as I could without stepping out on stage.
I gave Sunset a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good luck,”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile before walking out on stage. I couldn’t help notice how confident she was. She made it look easy to step out and let herself be watched and judged by others. Even in my experience, I had to mentally prepare myself.
Sunset stood center stage, hand wrapped around a microphone. There was a half second of silence before the music began. The composition was simple, something Sunset might have written on her own. It was a song about a phoenix, ashes, transformation.
From her voice, I could tell she was singing about something personal. There was a strained tone to it, like she was pleading for others to listen to her. As the song went on, her voice grew grainy.
Then I noticed a faint glow. A thin aura wrapped around her and then quickly enveloped the stage. I shielded my eyes for a moment. When I looked back up, Sunset had transformed.
She was an angel again.
A pair of wings made of light lifted her into the air, and I could hear a collective gasp in the room. Her hair defied gravity, twirling upwards like the flickers of a flame. The glow gave off a hazy feeling in the air as summer came early.
She was beautiful.
And I felt so small.
I was honestly afraid that I would never get to see her like this again. My knees gave up on me. I stopped breathing, and the pounding in my chest joined her song.
Slowly, Sunset floated back down to earth. Her voice trailed off, and there was a peaceful stillness. Her eyes were closed, and she took deep, ragged breaths. The glow disappeared along with her wings and horn, and the room felt much colder than before.
Then came the applause. It was earthshaking, and the whole school was just as in love with her as I was.
The first thing Sunset did when she opened her eyes was look back at me.