"Sometimes I wonder if it's my fault that I'm this easy. How aren't you disgusted with me? No, no, Mama's still got it. Or, conversely, stallions are as desperate as I am. Perhaps a little bit of both? Yes, that's more likely."
Red Bandana continued to snore lightly beside me. He’s certainly attractive, and if I'm quite honest with myself, likely out of my league given that I'm a decade and a half older than him at best. A Christmas cake, half eaten and well past her expiration date if the current trends were anything to go by.
Rather than bother waking Red, I moved to the kitchen in my high-rise apartment and searched for my pills. What a disaster it would be if I gave Pearl a sibling. I can barely manage the one I've got, let alone another by some stranger half my age. Finding the package and pressing one out, I plopped it gently on my tongue and downed a cup of water.
Years ago, there was a time that I believed I could find a prince to carry me away in a beautiful gown in some picturesque carriage as we ride off into the sunset. These days, I simply hope that Pearl doesn't end up the mess that I am. How did Sweetie get it right? How did mother and father do it? Am I just broken? A truth, but aren't we all?
Fluttershy has her litter of Discord's spawn, yet they're all better behaved than their father. Applejack has her large brood, Rainbow has her precious "Stars in the making," talk about ponies who take after their parents, Pinkie has her own quartet of pie siblings, and I… have Pearl. Pearl, who gets to live alone or with my friends or my parents four or more days of the week.
"Red, am I a bad mother?" While his only response was to roll over and continue snoring, it affirmed that, yes, I am, in fact, a terrible mother. I hardly ever spend any time with her. Even when she was just a foal, I could feel there was already distance between us. Though, that could simply be my lamentations already working their way into my head and telling me how incompetent at this I was. Am.
"No, no, Rarity, you're overthinking here. Pearl would tell me if she really felt like I wasn't giving her the attention she needs, wouldn't she?" Wouldn't she? If I were in her position, would I? I let the vain justifications for reasons I wouldn't bother my mother were she me run their course before, once again, realizing how awful at this I am.
I need to call her.
Moving to the studio within my Manehattan high-rise, I found the sleek little device hiding under a pile of magazines, most of which featured my own work. A front page with a glowing review of my new spring line, a sports magazine featuring my design for the Wonderbolts, a publication about a new military uniform design that Twilight asked me to take care of. That one felt especially dirty for the killing I made off it, but what can one do when one's old friend is royalty?
I sighed, smiled at the pictures, then looked at my phone and felt the crushing weight of my terrible decisions smash right into me. I had a missed call. From my daughter.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no! How could this happen? When did she call me? Oh? More than one missed call?" Taking the device in my magic, I swiped at the screen and pulled the notifications bar down to reveal that I had several missed calls from Applejack, and one from Pearl.
I felt my ear twitch. Given that she, of all ponies, called me more than once, means either I am in trouble, or something has happened to Pearl. Given that Pearl called me after Applejack did, it's likely both. The real question is: which explosive do I trigger first?
If I call Applejack back, then I have to face a lecture on parenting, a lecture on proper behavior, and most certainly a rebuke about my lifestyle, in no small part thanks to Red just so happening to wake up while I'm on the phone with her. As it does, every, single, time.
If I call Pearl back… I wouldn't know what I was in for. Things are so… different these days from when I was a child. Even now, I'm holding an electronic device that allows me to speak with ponies all around the world with a click of a button. Twenty years ago, that wasn't so much as a dream.
Figuring that Applejack's lecture would find me sooner rather than later, I decided to call Pearl first. Goddess knows something happened, and whatever it is is likely to disrupt my Friday. I let out a sigh. And I'm certain it disrupted Applejack's Thursday first.
I hit the dial button, and after a few seconds of ringing, the line picked up.
"Mom…?"
Drowsy, no doubt. When does school start these days? It's… 7:15 AM. Well, good job Rarity, you woke her up. How many weeks has it been since you last did that? Months, even?
I worked up my best pleasant tone and cleared my throat. "Good morning, darling!"
Rustling on the other end. "Oh. Good morning, I guess. Did you need something?"
'I guess?' 'Did you need something?' What am I, her parole officer? "Well, I saw that you called me last night. Is… something the matter?"
Silence. Light breathing, but unmistakably, masked by a hoof. Well, if anything, she forgot she did that and didn't mean to.
"Oh! I, um… I did, didn't I? Haha, it was… a mistake, I'm sorry mother. I… hope I didn't worry you."
Now that is a heaping pile of rubbish. "Pearl, darling, you know you can call me whenever you need to, right?"
"O-of course! I, um… I really didn't mean to, honest! Just… just forget about it, please?"
Panic? Oh, no, no, no, no, no! There will be no forgetting, and you certainly meant to do it! However… pressing here isn't likely to get me anywhere. If I want the truth… I know who I'll get it from.
"Very well then. But… don't hesitate to tell me something if you need to, okay dear?"
"Um… riiiiight. I need to get ready for school and I'm sure you're busy so… I'll… talk to you later, I guess."
What is this skeptical tone? Does she not believe me? "Of course, darling. Have a good day!"
"Y-you too…"
Click.
I frowned at the device. Two minutes. That's the most I've spoken to her since I left for Manehattan Tuesday. A deep, bone-aching sigh exited me and filled my studio. Not only does she not believe I care, but she doesn't want me to know about it either. Is it because she doesn't trust me? Or does she have an idea about how I would react, and would rather I never found out?
A chill ran up my spine and I shivered. I pray to the Goddess it's nothing like when I first told my own mother about her. Like mother, like daughter, as they say…
"She did what!?"
Applejack sighed over the line. "She called me late after school yesterday, and Ah picked her up with most of her mane and tail cut off. How many times Ah gotta tell ya that?"
“As many times as it takes to make sense! I just don’t understand why…” Why would Pearl cut her hair? Why would she do it herself? Or… did she do it herself? “Applejack, did she say anything about it?”
“Not particularly. It’s not like Ah didn’t attempt ta pry, she might as well be one of my own, but… Ah’m not sure. Yer girl ain’t all that talkative ta begin with.”
So she isn’t. Surely, that’s a trait from her father, not that he knows she exists. “Any ideas?”
Though I couldn’t see her, I’m certain Applejack shrugged. “An educated guess would say she’s either bein’ bullied, or she’s in desperate need of somepony’s attention. Ah interrogated Cider and Stout yesterday ta see if they knew anythin’, but either they’re hidin’ what they know, or they don’t know anythin’. Ah talked it over with the boys, and Fin’s leanin’ on the bullyin’ angle, but Whiskey says somethin’ about that ain’t right. Either way, Ah’m thinkin’ both might be right.”
Both? “What makes you say that? Would your husband not be the one to lean toward here?” Fin Sharp, the stallion that hooked Applejack’s heart, was Military Police before he wandered into Ponyville. After a very short month of dating, they paired off and made like apples do and added branches to the tree in quick succession. These days, they have six of their own little apples, and Fin works as a detective for Ponyville PD when he’s not working at the orchard. Much like my best friend, Fin has quite the intuition and is very good at getting into other ponies’ heads.
“While Ah agree that Fin’s good at what he does, that stallion can’t hardly tell what’s goin’ in his own little girl’s heads, let alone yours. Ain’t the kinda crazy he’s used ta dealin’ with. ‘Teenage fillies are scarier than any insane murderer,’ or so he says. He ain’t wrong, but that’s exactly why Ah think there’s more than one piece ta whatever’s goin’ on with Pearl.”
I clicked my tongue. “That is a very ‘Fin’ thing to say, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
“Yes, I do believe he’s right.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Well, it looks like I’ll be home a day early this week. I’ll have to get Sassy or Coco to cover for me, but this shouldn’t be anything too problematic… Bah, no matter. I’ll be on the next flight to Ponyville.”
“Great. Ah’m sure it’ll at least do her some good ta have her mother around fer a little while,” Applejack snickered.
“Can you feel me glaring at you? In the event you can’t, you should know that I’m glaring at you.”
She laughed harder. “Oh, sure, Ah can feel it, Rares.”
“Oh, geez, I’m sorry Ms. Belle. Did I do somethin’ wrong?” Red called from behind me.
Applejack stopped laughing.
I sighed. “I’m on the phone, Red.”
He nodded slowly, then quickly, threw a hoof up to say ‘okay,’ then went toward the bathroom with his finely toned glutes swaying hypnotically away as they did. Mama’s still got it.
“Consarnit, Rarity! This is exactly how ya got yerself inta this mess in the first place! You’re thirty-eight years old, how long are ya gonna keep pretendin’ you’re still a teenager!? Ah swear, every time…”
Yes, indeed. Every time. He always wakes up… when I’m on the phone with you. Best friends.