//------------------------------// // Sugarcoat // Story: Mirror Match Inc. // by J Carp //------------------------------// “Ehh.”  Sunny Flare made a big deal of not caring what was going on around her.  She glanced at Pinkie, grinning like a maniac, then at Lemon Zest, also grinning like a maniac, then finally looked at Sugarcoat herself.  “Truth, I guess,” she announced, as dignified as anyone wearing pajama bottoms could be. Sugarcoat couldn’t ask the main thing she wanted to ask, obviously, but she had a different idea, anyway.  She grinned snidely, and, as nicely as she could, she asked, “You’re having fun, aren’t you?” Rainbow Dash laughed.  Sunny’s exaggerated boredom had been a source of ribbing since the sleepover started, but no one had challenged her so directly on it. “Ugh,” she muttered, relishing the spotlight despite everything.  “...Yes.  I guess.  This is fun.  Fine.”  She crossed her arms poutily and sighed.  “It’s still a missed opportunity.  We come over here with Twilight’s parents out of town, but no one brings any booze?” “Aww, I know, that’d be really fun,” Sour Sweet agreed.  “And it’s a really smart idea, too, since our principal is chaperoning us.” “She’s downstairs!” Sunny argued.  “We can be sneaky about it and yes I just realized Pinkie and Lemon Zest are here so never mind.” “Um.”  The weird, quiet, green-haired girl, Wallflower, spoke up.  “I… didn’t bring any alcohol, but.  Um.  I did bring...  Uh.  I mean, in case anyone wants to.  I have…” “Nope!” Sunset interrupted, somehow without scaring the shy girl at all.  “Not in Twilight’s room; the smell will never get out of the carpet.” “Aw, crap,” Lemon Zest grunted.  But she grinned at Wallflower, “Who’s your hookup?” “Uh.  I grew it myself.” “Whaaaaat!”  She threw her phone across the room; Wallflower let out a terrified peep and covered her face as it hit the wall behind her and fell to the floor.  “Put your number in there!  We’re totally gonna be pals.” “Aw, she looks so innocent, but deep down she’s trouble,” cooed the nerdy girl whose name Sugarcoat couldn’t remember and who wouldn’t shut up about movies.  “You should come over sometime; we’ll watch 2001.” “Um, I’d like that,” Wallflower replied, typing into Lemon Zest’s phone.  Meanwhile, Sunset looked absolutely delighted; it appeared that legitimately her favorite thing in the entire world was watching her friends become friends with one another. Twilight raised her hand as if asking a question in class.  “Um, should I be embarrassed that I have no idea what any of you are talking about?” Several people laughed (Sugarcoat noted that Rainbow Dash was not among them, strongly suggesting she had no idea, either).  Sunset leaned over and whispered in Twilight’s ear, rattling the poor girl terribly. “Oh,” Twilight stammered.  “Uh.  Yes, please don’t smoke anything in here.” “Come onnnnn,” Sour Sweet moaned, “let’s get back to the game, already.  Whose turn is it?” “Ooh, I’ll go!” Pinkie enthused.  “Sunset!  Truth or dare?!” Sunset sighed; they were not being very diligent about turns, and Sunset had been the target of a disproportionate number of rounds.  Still, she shrugged.  “Truth.” Pinkie grinned like a mako shark.  “In the past year, who are all the people that’ve asked you out and you said no?” “Ooo,” Sunny remarked, raising an eyebrow.  “This party is getting more fun.” “Gah!” Sunset was probably blushing, though it was very hard to tell.  “Pinkie, do I have to?” “I bet she can’t even keep track of them all,” Rainbow commented. “It doesn’t happen that often!” Sunset argued.  “Just… aggh, I feel so guilty, every time.” “But you shouldn’t!” Pinkie said brightly.  “You’re always super nice about it!” Sunset grunted, running her fingers through her hair.  Sugarcoat couldn’t help but be very curious about her answer.  “The whole past year?” “Since September!” Pinkie clarified. With a weary sigh, Sunset began her list.  “Sandalwood.  Heath Burns.  Watermelody.  Bulk Biceps.  Jet Set.  Micro Chips.  Roseluck.  That guy at work whose name I didn’t know.  Octavia Melody.  Trixie….” “Holy crap, Shimmer,” Sour Sweet marveled. Sunset just kept going.  “Toe Tapper.  Those two guys at the music festival whose names I didn’t know.  And, um.”  She coughed, embarrassed.  “Kiwi Lollipop.” “Kiwi Lollipop?” movie girl wondered.  “Who is… wait.  The cool one?!” “Aggh!” Sunset picked up a nearby blanket and threw it over her own head.  “She is really cool, when you get to know her!  It wasn’t that I didn’t think she was cool!” “You turned down all of them?!”  Lemon Zest asked, her mouth hanging open in shock.  “I don’t know most of these people, but some of them are suuuuuuper hot, right?” “Every one of them!” Pinkie confirmed.  “Some in kinda different ways, but there’s not a stinker in the bunch!” “Look, the girls don’t even count, pretty much!” Sunset argued, still not taking the blanket off.  “I’m super-out as bi, so I’m safe to ask out.” “Uh, no way,” Rainbow said.  “You don’t get outer than I am, and girls never ask me out.”  She paused, then frowned.  “Hey, how come girls never ask me out?!” “Some want to!” Pinkie assured her.  “But none of them do sports, so you never talk to them.”  She poked the Sunset-lump with her toe.  “Is that really everyone?” Sunset flung the blanket off herself, glaring.  “No.  But don’t ask me about anyone else, because  I won’t tell you.  You…” “It was me,” Wallflower Blush said.  Her voice was very quiet, but not quiet enough to keep from echoing around the whole room.  “I asked her out a few months ago.” Sunset gaped.  “Wallflower, you didn’t have to…” “It’s okay!” Wallflower assured her.  “I’m not embarrassed about it.  I had just never liked a girl before, or… well… anyone before, and I did it.  You were really nice.  Actually… it kind of seemed like you felt worse about it than I did.” “Yeah, totally,” Rainbow confirmed.  “You were acting like saying no was the worst thing in the world, and I’m sitting here, like, kind of disappointed.” Everyone stared at her.  Sunset slapped her forehead. “Huh?  Why’s everyone…”  Rainbow caught up and groaned loudly.  “Gaahhhh.  Yes, I asked Sunset out at the beginning of the year.  She said no, and things are cool.  That’s it.” There was a gobsmacked silence in the room. “....Fine,” a dignified voice announced.  “Since everyone’s admitting it: I asked her out, too.” Sugarcoat felt her eyes go wider than she thought they possibly could go.  She gaped so hard, her glasses fell off.  “...Sunny?” “Well.”  Sunny Flare spoke casually, examining her fingernails, totally at ease.  “I don’t even like girls that much, you know that.  So it means I have high standards for them.  Boys are whatever, but if a girl comes along and she’s attractive enough for me to notice her, I feel like I might as well do something about it.”  She shrugged.  “It’s for the best she turned me down.  Our names alone would be a disaster, if we were together.” “Is this a theme party?” Lemon Zest asked.  “We all, one by one, admit we’re totally gay for Sunset Shimmer?”  She frowned.  “Uh, I dunno if I’m gonna be able to play this game without that booze we were talking about before.” Sugarcoat closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath.  She opened her eyes, put her glasses back on, and coolly surveyed the room.  “I think we should stop talking about this.  Sunset is embarrassed and I think Twilight might be dying.” Indeed, Twilight did not look well.  But she managed to squeak, “I’m fine!  This is just… a lot of talking about dating and I’m not used to it!  But the slumber party book said…” “Oh god, not that book again,” Rainbow muttered. “...that it’s normal to have talks like this!  And fun!”  She gave a ghoulish parody of a smile.  “I’m fine!” “Oh, sure, it makes total sense you’d be uncomfortable,” Sour Sweet sang.  “Seeing as you’re the only person in this room with a damn boyfriend!” “That’s not fair,” said movie girl, frowning.  “Some people are just awkward about this stuff.  I get it.” Sour Sweet rolled her eyes but did not argue.   “I think… I’m going to get us more popcorn,” Twilight announced, standing up.  “I’ll take a minute to myself, get us some more popcorn, and then I’ll be fine!” “Are you sure you’re okay?” Sunset asked, nearly crushing in her empathy. “Yeah.  Really.”  Twilight smiled much more genuinely.  “I never thought I’d have a party like this!  I’m really glad we were all able to do it before high school ended.”  She snapped her fingers.  “Oh, and I’ll check in with Cadance, too.  I hope she’s not bored.” “Get some soda too, would you?” Lemon Zest asked.  Twilight nodded, actually waved goodbye, and stepped out of her room into the hallway. Before her footsteps even receded away, Sugarcoat fixed a steely gaze on Sunset.  “Really, tell us.  Why’d you turn every one of these people down?” Sunset frowned.  “You just said you wanted to stop talking about this.” “I changed my mind.” “Sunset doesn’t have to answer any more!” Pinkie broke in.  “She answered her question and her turn is over.” “I still want to know.” Sunset looked back at her, awkwardness reflected in her eyes.  But she sighed and slumped her shoulders.  “It’s fine, Pinkie.  But it’s not complicated or anything,  I just don’t want to think about dating right now.  My priority’s friendship.” “Aww, c’mon,” Sour Sweet pouted.  “That’s lame!  You can friendship while still making out with K-Lo!” “Look, I like to take my time with social stuff.”  She hugged her knees to her chest, somehow looking both older and younger than she was.  “Um, only some of you know this, but I kinda used to be… heading down a different path.  If I’d kept going, I’d be really awful and really miserable, and I’d still be dating people.  The difference is, I wouldn’t have you guys.  Friends.”  She threw her hands up, casually helpless.  “I’m just making sure I’m secure with that stuff before adding on to it with a boyfriend or whatever.” Sugarcoat felt herself glaring.  Something familiar and icy was in her fingers and chest.  “Kind of a lot of wasted effort, isn’t it?  We’re all going to be going off to college soon.  You don’t think your high school friendships are going to keep being important, do you?” There was a silence after she was finished speaking.  Sunset had a look on her face that she had never seen before; she took it to mean she’d scored a hit.  Even though that sort of thing didn’t feel good anymore, she was still glad she’d done it.   “Oh, Sugarcoat, don’t be such a downer,” Sunny Flare chastised lightly, voice smooth despite the tension in the room.  “Well, it’s true.  Statistically speaking…” “Dude, come on!” Rainbow interrupted.  “It’s not hard to keep in touch.  Of course we’re all gonna stay friends!  When it’s important, you do it, end of story.” “I’m not disagreeing with that,” Sugarcoat stated.  “I’m saying it doesn’t stay important.” Rainbow looked pretty angry, especially because Pinkie seemed to be getting upset.  Sunset still had that expression on her face, though, so Sugarcoat didn’t want to stop.   But suddenly, she felt a weight on her shoulders and arm.  Sunny had plopped herself down next to her, drooping on her like a shawl.  “Uggh, Sugarcoaaaat, come on.  I’m sorry, girls, she always gets like this at parties.”  She poked at Sugarcoat’s cheek, eliciting an automatic snarl, but no other response.  “Her gloomy emo side comes out.  Doesn’t it?”  She kept poking.  “Hmm?  Doesn’t it?” Sugarcoat couldn’t be mad anymore; she actively tried and just couldn’t do it.  Not like this, not with Sunny smushing her.  “Mmf.  I mean.  People are exhausting.  I usually spend most of my time at parties hoping there’s a dog I can hang out with, so I don’t have to talk to anyone.  Leave it to Twilight Sparkle to have the one dog in the world where that wouldn’t even help.” The tension was lifting; Sunset was softly smiling again.  “Please stop poking my face,” Sugarcoat said. “I absolutely will not.”  Sugarcoat found herself tolerating it pretty easily.   “Sunset’s whole friendship thing is stupid and I hate it,” Sour Sweet asserted.  “...buuut I know I shouldn’t.  Everyone at Crystal Prep has parents that are totally miserable, because they don’t have any friends.” “I know, right?” Sunny mused.  “It’s like, there but for the grace of magic pony girl go I.” There was a weird feeling in the room.  Not tension anymore, just kind of a sad relief.  Every single person, even Sunset herself, could relate to what Sunny had just said.  It was a little chilling. The moment proved too much for Lemon Zest.  “Ugggggghhhh,” she pouted, flinging herself onto her back.  “Blah blah blah, emotional maturity, social skills. This is so boring!  It’s the opposite of rock!”  She jumped to her feet, one hand devil’s horns, the other hand doing something that was very hard to interpret but might have been some kind of air-drumming.  “C’mon, let’s talk about that!  You!  Juniper!”  She pointed with her entire body at the confused girl.  “What’s your favorite rock song?” “Rock song?” Juniper asked, raising an eyebrow.  “What am I, fifty?  I listen to hip-hop, like a normal person.” “Gaaaaaugh!”  Lemon Zest pointed at Wallflower Blush like a fox lunging after prey.  “You!  Truth or dare?  Say truth, so I can ask you what your favorite rock song is!” “Um.”  Wallflower fidgeted with her hands uncomfortably.  “I like YYZ.” Lemon Zest shrieked and hurled her phone across the room.  Wallflower jumped away in terror as the phone hit the wall and dropped to the floor.  “Put your number in there!  We’re gonna be friends!!” “Please stop throwing things,” Sunset said wearily.  “I’m worried you’re gonna break a window or something.” Sugarcoat tried to tune out the nonsense and nudged Sunny.  “Let me up.” “I don’t want to.  You’re comfortable.” “Sunny.” Sunny pouted but pulled away.  Sugarcoat was certain she did not change facial expression or otherwise react in any way.   She stood.  “I’m going to head to the bathroom,” she announced.  Pinkie was now juggling cell phones, for some reason, so she was barely acknowledged.  That suited her just fine. Twilight’s house was annoyingly large, and though there was probably a bathroom near where she’d been, she only knew of the one on the ground floor next to the computer room.  She of course wasn’t lying about needing to go, but she also took a moment to settle down.  Things were fraught.   So, when she finished and headed back upstairs, she was pleased to note that Twilight and Principal Cadance were hanging out in the living room, the door wide open, talking.  Sugarcoat was curious and could not deny being a bit nosy by nature, but more importantly, snooping would allow her to delay going back upstairs for a bit.   She crept near the doorway and leaned, Twilight’s voice clear and easy to make out. “...I know my feelings weren’t rational.  I won’t lose my friends, especially Sunset.  I’m dating Timber, and I haven’t started to ignore them!  I just got worried about it and wanted to come down here to remind myself my fears weren’t based on reality.” “I’m so glad you were able to deal with your anxiety like that,” Cadance nearly cooed.  “I’m proud of all the work you’ve done.” “Thanks.  Um.”  Sugarcoat could practically hear the blush.  “My friends have become really important.  It’s pretty easy to remind myself that even though it’s stressful sometimes, it really is worth it.” It was dumb but somehow also totally reasonable that Twilight and Sunset had similar worries.  Sugarcoat almost decided to leave, but Twilight spoke up again.  “Uh… Cadance?  Are you all right?” “Hm?  Oh… no, it’s just.  I was just thinking of things that happened with my friends today, and…”  She trailed off uncomfortably.  “Twilight.  We’re pretty much sisters, right?  Not just that we’re going to be in-laws, but emotionally, right?” “Yeah!” Twilight replied with cheerful sincerity.  “Of course we are!” “Right!  And… well, sisters are honest with one another, right?” “Uh.”  Twilight’s voice was still cheerful, but it got a lot more hesitant.  “Yyyeah?” “Tell me the truth.  Am I… boring?” “What?  Cadance, of course you’re not boring!  Why would you think that?” “It’s just…”  The principal’s tone was not exactly vulnerable, but it definitely betrayed more emotion than Sugarcoat was used to.  “It’s something Twinkleshine said.  She teases me a lot, but… it just made me think.” “Come on, have a seat,” Twilight said, very much sounding like the grown-up of the two.  “Take me through what happened.  What exactly did she say?” “I was just talking about how excited I was for everyone to be selling pumpkin spice flavors again, and she looked over at Minuette like, ‘see?’ like it was something they expected.  And I tried to ignore it, but then we were talking about what we wanted to do, and Minuette wanted to see ‘Cherry Orchards in the Spring,’ but I don’t really like movies with subtitles.  So, I said I just wanted a girl’s night in to drink wine and watch a few episodes of ‘The Anonymous Singer,’ but then they had that look again and were laughing!” “They were laughing at you?” “I don’t think it was mean, and they apologized about it.  But then they tried to explain, and Twinkleshine said I was… ‘basic.’ Is that true?  I‘m not ‘basic,’ am I?  Am I a… a ‘normie?’” Sugarcoat literally had to shove her hand into her mouth to keep from either bursting out into laughter or calling out “Yes, you’re a complete normie;” she wasn’t sure which.  Twilight, naturally, was far more polite, and just sounded uncomfortable.  “Cadance… why are you asking me about this?  It’s okay, but I’m not really sure what I can say.” “Because you’re different!  You wear glasses!  You have friends that are… lgb….t?  Is there a t?  Or a q?  I don’t even know!” “...you really don’t have any lgbtq friends?” “I didn’t arrange it that way!  I don’t even know where you’d go to meet gay people!  Most of my friends were in my sorority.  Twinkleshine and Lemon Hearts and Minuette are the only friends I’ve made since college.” “Which is probably why the person you’re emotionally closest to is your fiance’s high-school-age little sister,” Sugarcoat had to put her hands around her throat and choke herself to keep from saying. “I’m a romantic,” Cadance continued, “I’ve always focused on getting married and traditional things like that, and I think that’s just not something lots of other kinds of people are into.  You know I’m not prejudiced, right?” “Yeah, of course I know that.  You’ve made Crystal Prep way more of a safe space than Cinch ever did; everyone says so.  But… maybe this ‘traditional’ thing is what your friends were talking about?” “Well… maybe, but I’m not traditional in all ways!  I can be wild!  Like that sign I keep on my desk.  You’ve seen that sign!” “...the one that says ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee.’  Yes.  I’ve seen it.” “Right!  That’s funny!  Being funny is important; it’s the middle part of the other sign.  You know, the one on my wall!” “‘...Live, Laugh, Love,’” Twilight replied, somehow doing an excellent job of remaining serious.  “Yes, I’ve seen that, too.  Um… maybe this is just coming out now because of the wedding?  You’ve been focusing so much on that, so maybe this side of you is just coming out more.” “My wedding plans aren’t ‘basic!’” Cadence huffed.  “The reception is happening in a remodeled warehouse!  ...although I actually didn’t like that, but the only other options were remodeled farm stables.  The whole thing seems kind of crunchy to me.  Um.”  There was a clearly awkward pause.  “...but the venue has these craaazy things about it, and I love that!  Like how they're putting a little shirt on Spike that says 'Don't worry, ladies, I'm single!' And how the two prep areas are different?  Shining and his groomsmen have a big-screen TV so they can watch football while they wait for the ceremony to start! And on our side, there's bottles of wine!'” “Um, yeah.  I was actually meaning to ask, doesn’t it make more sense for me to be in there with Shining?  I love you, but he is my brother, and so it’s weird to make me a bridesmaid…” “Oh, Twilight, don’t be silly!  You’re a girl; you can’t be a grooms-woman! Besides, all the photos would look weird with you on his side.” “...right.”  There was a long pause.  “And, well, but…”  Cadance was starting to get a little frantic, it seemed.  “And the seating doesn’t have a bride side and a groom side!  We’re having a sign that says ‘pick a seat, not a side.’  That’s not ‘basic,’ right?” There was another long pause. “I have a tattoo?  That’s dangerous and cool, right?  It’s a heart made of crystal, meaning ‘love,’ because I’ve always thought love is just so positive and... “ Twilight coughed uncomfortably. “Oh my god,” Cadance said. “Maybe… spend more time with Principal Luna?  I heard she’s got kind of an arty side.” “No.  No, I need to be dangerous.  And wild!  I need…”  Cadance was silent for a few moments.  “I have a crazy idea.  Twilight, I have a completely crazy, completely unconventional idea.  I just need...”  There were soft footsteps and she said something too quiet for Sugarcoat to hear. Twilight heard it, though, and she nearly yelped in surprise.  “What?  But why?” “I... I’m afraid it’s too personal for me to feel comfortable talking to you about it,” Cadence answered, and it was a great relief for Sugarcoat to learn that category of things existed for her in regards to Twilight.  “But do you think I could talk to Sunset, and…” “No.  She doesn’t…”  Twilight sighed.  “I’ll send you an email about it tomorrow, all right?  There’s another way to do it.  I talked to mine, and it was really great, but it takes…”  She trailed off helplessly.  “Uh, I’ll just email you, okay?” Sugarcoat figured it was dangerous to stay next to the doorway with the conversation wrapping up like that.  But as she headed back upstairs, her brain was percolating.   Sunny Flare was not the absolute last one of her classmates she wanted to see her loading up her van with surveillance equipment.  Lemon Zest was, because Lemon Zest would have tried to hook the parabolic microphone up to her stereo.  But Sunny was up there. This was true despite the fact that the entire point was for Sunny to see her. “Hm,” she said, and that was it.  She raised her eyebrow just enough to barely be perceptible.   Sugarcoat didn’t exactly feel awkward, but Sunny’s ability to just look at her in a way that asserted dominance was always unnerving.  “Yes?” “And what, exactly, are you doing, dearie?” “What does it look like I’m doing?” Sunny glanced at the van, then back to Sugarcoat.  “It looks like you requisitioned a bunch of spy stuff from the A/V room and rented a van to put it in.” “The van’s borrowed, not rented,” Sugarcoat corrected.  “But otherwise, yeah.  There you go.” “Uh huh.”  Sunny’s eyebrow went up verrrrrrry slightly.  “Why are you doing that?” Sugarcoat very briefly considered an unhelpful non-answer but then decided it was just too much trouble.  “Gonna go spy on the principal.” “Aha!” Sunny snapped, grinning.  “I knew it was something interesting!  What’s she up to?” “I don’t know, exactly.  She was saying something weird at Twilight’s house last week, and her desk calendar has tonight circled.” “Huh.  Pretty scanty.”  Sunny glanced into the back of the van.  “This is all kind of overkill, don’t you think?  Why do you even care?” “Blackmail,” Sugarcoat replied simply, placing a pair of infra-red goggles into the back of the van. “Blackmail for what?” Sunny asked.  “A good recommendation? You already got in to all your colleges.” Sugarcoat paused thoughtfully.  “I suppose also I have a self-sabotaging desire to get caught.” “Aha, therrre we go.  Little Emo Sugarcoaty again.”  Sugarcoat could not control the blush, but she managed to scowl, too, so it looked annoyed.  “C’monnnn.  We’re second semester seniors!  Nothing even matters!  We won’t even think about any of this once we go off to college.  Just chill out and have fun!” “Those are my two least favorite things to do, and you know it.” “Ugggggh.”  The eyeroll was magnificent.  “No, come on.  I’m not letting you do this.  Let’s just go hang out with Indigo; she at least has exciting ways of breaking the law.” “Have fun,” Sugarcoat grunted, closing the back of the van. “Uggggghhhhhhhhh.”  Sugarcoat wished she hadn’t thought of the previous eyeroll as magnificent, because this one completely blew it out of the water.  “Look, I’ll go with you and we’ll scope it out, but no creepy spy microphones, okay?  Just us.  So if we get caught, it won’t be a huge ‘Sugarcoat is a terrifying creep who needs to go to jail’ moment.” Sugarcoat did not look back at her for a moment; she was still trying to emotionally respond to ‘just us.’  Eventually she sighed.  “Binoculars,” she proposed. “Fine!  Creep.  We’ll take my car.  I don’t want to be seen in that weird unmarked van.” “Kind of the point is people don’t see you.” “Then let me rephrase: I do want to be seen in my bad-ass car.” With a smirk, Sunny held out her arm.  There was no way Sugarcoat wasn’t going to accept it. “This is… exactly as boring as I thought it would be,” Sunny Flare remarked, checking the time on one of those weird arm-robot things she wore.  “And you know how boring I can think things are.  I am the queen of thinking things are boring.” “Shh,” Sugarcoat mumbled. “Oh nooo, is the outside of the house still there, being the outside of a house?  Should I hide deeper in the bushes so the ugly green paint can’t see me?” “Shh,” Sugarcoat repeated. “I will not shh,” Sunny hmphed.  “If complaining to myself is the only way to keep from being bored, I’m doing it.” Sugarcoat lowered the binoculars and gave a look to her friend.  “You know, I’ve been very nice, not making fun of you for the Sunset Shimmer thing.” “What Sunset Shimmer thing?”  Sunny’s confusion was almost certainly feigned, but it was effective.  “Ohhh.  The date.  What’s to make fun of, because she’s Canterlot High?  I’ve asked Canterlot High students out before.  They’ve asked me out a lot.” Sugarcoat was very aware of all of this.  “It’s Sunset.” “Um, yeah.  Sunset the super-hot tough girl.  It’s not like any of this matters.  We’re graduating.  I’m not gonna find the love of my life in high school.” Sugarcoat raised the binoculars back up to her face and stared pointedly at the outside of Principal Cadance’s house. Sunny began softly but irritatingly singing a pop song to herself. “Shh.” “Nope.  I…” “No, really, shh.”  Sugarcoat pointed.  Principal Cadance and her fiance were walking down the sidewalk, approaching the house.  Sugarcoat made sure she was appropriately hidden, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered, with how excitedly Cadance was bouncing around. “Oooooh I can’t believe we’re doing this!” she squealed.  “Shiny, isn’t this just the craziest and most dangerous and sexiest thing ever???” Shiny’s face was completely neutral.  “It… really kind of isn’t.” “We’re… swinging!”  Cadance enthused, breaking out into another fit of excited giggles.  “Do you believe it?  I’m a mom!  And I’m swinging!” Sunny and Sugarcoat shared a look. The couple arrived at the front door and, oddly, rang the doorbell.  After a few moments, a second Cadance opened the door, mirroring her counterpart’s excitement.  “Cadance!” she greeted.  “Isn’t this absolutely wild that we’re doing this??” “I can’t believe it!!” the first one tittered. Indoor Cadance sized up Shining Armor, smirking.  “And this is your husband?  Oooh, aren’t I a lucky lady tonight.” A second Shining Armor appeared in the doorway next to her.  He waved to his counterpart and received a wave back.  They all stepped into the house, the Cadances’ matching wave of giggles cut off as the door shut. Sugarcoat was very unusually speechless. “Ohhhhh,” Sunny said, nodding in realization.  “You know what this is?  This is the whole pony thing.” “...pony thing?” “Yeah.  You know what the Canterlot girls told us, how there was this other Twilight who was a magic pony, from Sunset's dimension?” “Oh right.  There’s a pony version of everyone, apparently.” Sunny snickered.  “And so our principal wanted to take advantage of it to have a swingers party while avoiding being even the slightest bit transgressive.  I’m so not surprised.” Sugarcoat shrugged.  “I appreciate her cleverness, actually.” “You would, dearie,” Sunny nudged her, apparently feeling no impulse whatsoever to explain what she meant.  “Can we finally get out of here?  This turned out to be boring after all.” “You don’t have to keep calling it boring every five seconds,” Sugarcoat grumbled, extracting herself from the bush they were hidden in. “Well, you know me!  I like exciting things.” “Yeah,” Sugarcoat replied.  “I know.” There was a weird pause. “Whatever, just c’mon.”  Sunny turned and primly walked off to where she had parked.  “Let’s go before you start getting any weird ideas yourself.” Sugarcoat had been having ideas all night, of course.  But at that moment, a weird one did occur to her. Sugarcoat assumed that Sunset found Rarity and Applejack’s flirtatious bickering hilarious, and she wanted to savor it.  From Sugarcoat’s perspective, it looked like the sort of thing that would get old very quickly: they couldn’t get through a simple snack at the Sweet Shoppe without exchanging jabs.   “I told you,” Rarity fussed, ”you run the brush through your hair thirty-five times.  At least!  If you don’t, then you’ll get tangles!” “Rares, I… ow!”  Applejack winced as her relationship-partner-of-indefinite-status yanked at her ponytail.  “I’m not a dog, dang it!  I don’t need to be brushed!” Fluttershy smiled softly; despite her obvious fear of conflict, she seemed to be taking this ‘argument’ well.  It was sweet, Sugarcoat supposed.  And annoying. The smile turned into an agitated frown as Sugarcoat walked up next to their booth, arms crossed and glaring down at them. Rarity and Applejack froze and blushed completely disproportionately to what they had actually been doing, so it was on Sunset to address the situation.  “Um.  Hey.  Sugarcoat.  What’s up?” “I want to meet my magic pony self,” Sugarcoat announced. Sunset blinked in confusion.  “Um.  Your…” “The pony alternate universe thing.  You can communicate over there, right?” “I.  Um.”  Sunset scratched her head, nonplussed.  “Does… everyone know about that?” “I’m certain there are people in other countries who don’t, but practically speaking, yes.”  Sugarcoat paused, then took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, I’m being rude.  Hello.  I hope you’ve been well.  It’s nice to see you.  May I meet my magic pony self?” “Uhhh wait wait wait.”  Sunset pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Why do you want to meet her?” “I want to make out with her.” Sunset looked just as shocked as Fluttershy, which was a feat. Luckily, before anyone could think of anything to say, a blur jumped over to the booth, grinning.  “Sugarcoat!!” “Hi, Pinkie Pie.” “It’s so great you came in!!” Pinkie enthused.  “After you’re done saying hi, have a seat and I can serve you!!” “No.”  Sugarcoat glanced around, looking like she was trying to keep disdain off her face, but only very minimally.  “Sweets aren’t really my thing.” “Whaaaaaaaat!?” Pinkie yelped, grabbing her face.  “How is that possible?!  Don’t you love food that’s been coated in Sugar?!  That’s your name!” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes.  “I’m called Sugarcoat because my entire existence is an ironic joke.” “Awwwww.  You know what helps with your whole existence being an ironic joke?  Cake!” “No.”  Sugarcoat stood uncomfortably, indicating a compliment was about to ensue.  “I can tell you and the bakers care a lot about serving good food.  I don’t think it’s bad, it’s just not what I’m into.” “Okayyyy.”  Pinkie sighed dramatically, then smiled just as dramatically.  “Gotta keep working!  Good to see you!” “It’s good to see you, too,” Sugarcoat confirmed.  She looked back at Sunset as Pinkie walked off.  “Anyway.  So help a buddy out?” “Why,” Sunset began, “do you want.”  She gathered herself and finally was able to finish the question, “to make out with yourself?” “I’m insecure about dating.  I need practice, and I need someone who’ll tell it to me like it is.  There’s a very small number of people I trust to give me honest feedback about my kissing skills.”  She glanced around the table, a vaguely annoyed expression on her face.  “...and Applejack would say no.” Rarity’s mouth fell open in shock, but almost immediately she hissed “You’re darn right she would!” and threw her arms around Applejack as if Sugarcoat was an explosion to shield her from.  To her credit, Applejack just glared. “Is that… really a good reason?” Sunset asked “I don’t like not being good at things,” Sugarcoat answered, uncomfortable but still with that blunt tone.  “If I’m not pretty, I should at least be skilled.” “Aww, Sugarcoat, you’re super-pretty!” Pinkie’s voice called out, even though she was slicing a cake more than a few feet away. “That rap you did?” Sugarcoat called back, “In the Dance Magic music video?  Was the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” “Haters gonna hate!” “I… look.  I really don’t think I can help you out.”  Sunset looked like it was suddenly just dawning on her how bizarre her life was.  “We have a lot of problems with Equestrian magic; I don’t think it’s safe for people to just pop back and forth between dimensions.” Sugarcoat frowned, jaw clenched.  She was not used to being told “no.”  “It’s not personal!” Sunset assured her.  “You’d actually be surprised how often I get asked this sort of thing.” After a moment, Sugarcoat nodded stiffly.  “All right.  I understand.  Thanks for hearing me out, anyway.” Sunset breathed a silent sigh of relief, which was kind of insulting.  “Yeah.  Sorry.  Um… I can think of people I know around here who might be into what you’re, um, going for.” “Thanks,” Sugarcoat replied, not remotely considering for a moment that Sunset might be successful.  “Bye.” Sunset, Applejack, and Fluttershy waved goodbye.  Rarity glared.  Sugarcoat turned and walked to the door. Before she got there, a perky voice called out, “Bye!  Are you suuuuurrrreeeee you don’t want some cake?!” Sugarcoat looked at Pinkie with hooded eyes.  “Absolutely sure.” “Oh well, thanks for coming in!  And just you wait, I’ll win you over with my phat rhymes!” Sugarcoat couldn’t believe it, but she felt her face shifting to a smirk as she left the diner. Sugarcoat’s phone beeped again, and she rolled her eyes, glad to express her disdain to everyone nearby, even if they didn’t understand the context.  It had been half an hour since she had left the Sweet Shoppe, and Pinkie had already texted her half a dozen rhymes for “Sugarcoat,” all of which were absolutely horrible.   Sunset had also sent her a long and painfully sincere message expressing again that she was sorry she didn’t feel comfortable passing messages along across the dimensions, and again gently suggesting she could try to help Sugarcoat find someone to date.  Sunset was really nice, and interacting with her was weird. Rarity had just texted her an emoji of eyeballs and that was it. But the most recent text was different.  It was from Fluttershy.  It was just a phone number and the message “Call, don’t text.  Please don’t tell Sunset I sent this to you.” Sugarcoat revised the opinion she had of Fluttershy, raising her from “namby-pamby wuss” to “milquetoast wuss.”  She made a mental note to reach out to her if she got the chance. She dialed the number, and after only a single ring, a recording clicked to life.  The speaker’s tone was pert and almost playful, as if rebelling against the professionalism of the message.  The effect was a bit disconcerting. “Hello, and thank you for contacting Mirror Match Inc., dedicated to providing clients with a social experience unlike any other!  If you’ve ever wanted to meet someone who knows you better than you know yourself, our services are for you! “If you would like to try to arrange a meeting with your Mirror Match, please leave your name, telephone number, and a range of days and times to meet us for an initial consultation.” Sugarcoat was surprised by how not surprised she was by what she had just heard.  She left a voice mail with the requested information, hoping she was not about to be inundated with new spam ads. Almost immediately after putting her phone back into her handbag, it buzzed.  Surprised, she grabbed it again and looked at the screen.  Pinkie Pie had sent her a text message that just said “booger bloat.”   She decided to turn her phone off for the rest of the afternoon. The response came fairly quickly in the form of a terse text message, so less than 24 hours later, Sugarcoat stationed herself in a gazebo in a suburban park, awaiting her mysterious contact.  It was not particularly crowded, but there were still plenty of people walking by, and the lamps successfully fought off the dusk; she was feeling 90% certain she was not about to be kidnapped, which was just enough to still be exciting. She did not have to wait long.  Despite the steady stream of people walking by, enjoying fake-nature, she very easily identified her contact approaching.  This is because her contact was acting about as suspicious as humanly possible, skulking around like the world’s worst secret agent. After an interminably long time of simultaneously trying to be sneaky while also trying to be noticed by as many people as possible, the representative of Mirror Match Inc. arrived in the gazebo.  “Good evening,” she whispered unnecessarily.  “Are you… our client?” “I know you,” Sugarcoat observed.   The girl paused.  “You… do?” “Yeah.  I saw you doing a magic show at the community center.” “Oh!”  The girl twirled in a circle and posed garishly, running a hand through her silver hair.  “Well, of course you did!  The Astounding Trixie is very famous!” “I didn’t think you were very good,” Sugarcoat said. Trixie started back like someone had waved a gun in her face.  “What!  How dare you!” “Let me clarify.  The illusions and showmanship were impressive.  But I could figure out how you did about half of your tricks.”  She paused.  “Oh, huh.  ‘Trixie,’ ‘tricks.’  Cute.”  Getting back on track, she shrugged.  “I’m really smart, though, so that was probably just me.” Trixie eyed her suspiciously.  “Hmmmmmm.”  She examined Sugarcoat from several angles, then nodded.  “Glasses.  The smart thing checks out.”  She crossed her arms, still glaring.  “Fine.  I’ll ignore your insult, because Trixie is a professional.  You’re here for the services of Mirror Match Inc.?” “I think so.  I want to meet myself.  From Pony Land.  Is this what you do?” “Mirror Match Inc. does a lot of things.  Letting people meet their pony selves… letting ponies meet their people selves… you know.  A lot of things.” “Right.  So, how’s this work?  We just head over to Pony World now?  Or…” “Oh, no no no.  Let me explain.  You see, I am an interdimensional liaison.”  Trixie pronounced the word ‘liaison’ with more joy than Sugarcoat had ever felt about anything.  “As part of our service, we will locate your counterpart and pass along the message that you wish to meet.  We will also arrange and facilitate the rendezvous if both parties are amenable.” “Huh.”  Sugarcoat frowned.  “And what’s with all the secrecy?  Why do you even have a business doing this?” “Oh, lots of reasons, I’m sure,” Trixie answered, waving her hand dismissively.  “This is really just a part-time thing for me.  I’m saving up to buy a trick coffin.” “Then let me talk to whoever’s really in charge.” “Oh, I can’t let you do that,” Trixie replied dismissively.  “I’m your agent, here, I’ll be the one you’re dealing with.” Sugarcoat crossed her arms and glared.  “I really think you should let me talk to your boss.  Because I know how you did six out of the ten magic tricks I saw you do, and I am very bad at keeping secrets.”   “Whaaaat!”  Trixie stomped her foot in anger.  “You can’t…” Sugarcoat held up an index finger in sudden realization.  “Oh!  I just realized you have access to an exact body double.  So make that seven out of ten.” Trixie seethe-pouted, but turned her head away.  “Hmmph!  Fine.  Fine!  Hold on.” She stepped away and made a call on her phone.  She talked for a minute or two, frantically waving her arms around, and eventually she came back to the gazebo.  “Here.  Make it quick.”  She held out the phone, set to speaker mode, and grimaced. “Hello?” Sugarcoat greeted. The voice which came out of the tinny speaker was unexpectedly juvenile and cutesy.  “Hi, you’re the Mirror Match client?” “Yes.  I’m Sugarcoat.  I want to meet myself, but I want to clear out some of this sketchiness before I do.” She was surprised to hear a second voice come out of the phone, still young-sounding, but with a clear southern accent.  “I reckon that makes sense.  We don’t want anyone to feel weird.  Most people just go along with it.” “Are you children?” Sugarcoat asked. “No!”  a third voice barked, sort of jockish.  “We’re fourteen!”  After a moment, she clarified.  “Okay, one of us is thirteen.  But that’s not kids!” Sugarcoat raised an eyebrow at Trixie, but the magician was mouthing some sort of monologue to herself and clearly not paying attention. “We know what we’re doing,” the cutesy voice promised.  “We’ve helped out lots of people.” “...I’m really going to have to hear more about how fourteen year-olds started a secret alternate universe company,” Sugarcoat replied.  “This is really starting to feel like a practical joke.” “It ain’t!” Southern voice yelped, sounding almost horrified at the misconception.  “And it’s… not really a company.  We just added the inc part so it’d sound more, you know, legit.” “We do charge our clients, but it’s just for Trixie, because she does the legwork,” jock voice said.  “We aren’t making money or anything off this.  That’s not what it’s about.” “Uh huh.”  Sugarcoat unnecessarily raised an eyebrow at the phone, thoroughly unimpressed.  “So what is it about, then?” “Um.”  Southern voice paused uncomfortably, then sighed.  “It’s a little hard to explain.  Do you know what cutie marks are?” “The phrase ‘cutie mark’ is so terrible, I almost just hung up on you,” Sugarcoat replied.  “Please explain it as quickly as you can.” “Uh, okay, see… ponies have  cutie marks.  It’s a little picture… um, on their butts.” Sugarcoat did not reply, but she had learned how to make silence feel like being glared at. “Um," the voice continued awkwardly,  "so, the thing is, the cutie mark symbolizes, like, the thing that’s special about you.  Your talent or your, like, passion.”  Jock voice thankfully was talking very quickly.   “Ponies have one thing that makes each of them special, and they’re stuck with it for life?” Sugarcoat asked.  “That’s grim.  What if it sucks?” “Uh… they don’t really think about it like that,” southern voice replied.  “They aren’t born with it.  They get it when they realize their special thing.  It happens at different times.  And it kinda means you’re an adult.” “Uh huh, cutie magic pony butt bat mitzvah,” Sugarcoat deadpanned.  “Sounds incredibly stupid.  But go on.” “Um, so the thing is, we heard about our pony versions,” cutesy voice said.  “And their whole thing is all about helping other ponies find out what their cutie marks are.” “Yeah,” jock voice added.  “Their job basically is getting people to really understand themselves.  We think that’s really awesome!” “But we don’t have cutie marks,” southern voice said.  “But we still wanted to do something like that.  And what better way to help people understand themselves than to actually let them talk to themselves?  And well… we know where the magic portal is, so…” “Hmph.”  Sugarcoat sighed, appreciating the answer but still regretting having asked.  “And there’s really a market for this?” “Oh, yeah, it’s really popular!  Uh, although not too many people have, um, your reasons for it.” "Some do," jock voice reminded her, a little defensively. "It's not that weird!" “...yeah,” cutesy voice agreed uncertainly.  “But most people just want to talk to themselves.  Especially people our sisters’ age, they…” Southern voice squawked.  “Don’t say that!  She’ll figure out who we are!” “Ohhh yeah.”  Cutesy voice giggled.  “Sorry.  Especially people Rarity and Applejack’s age, they’re kinda freaking out about who they are because they’re graduating soon.”  There was a long pause.  “...what?  What’d I say?” “I don’t particularly care who you are,” Sugarcoat promised them.  “Look, I believe you.” (She felt proud for not adding, “because one of you is clearly too dense to trick anyone.”)  “I feel a lot better about this whole thing.  But one thing: why are you doing this behind Sunset’s back?  I’m… apparently her friend, so I don’t know if I want to support that.” “..eeehhh…”  Southern voice coughed lightly.  “It’s only sorta behind her back?  She doesn’t really like it, but she really doesn’t want all these people to go out finding the portal themselves. We keep the location secret, even from the ones we move across the dimensions.  So I think as long as she can ignore it, she’s fine.” “Hmm.”  Sugarcoat considered that.  “Bad, but for the greater good.  I’m into it.”  She nodded smartly at Trixie.  “Okay.  I got what I needed.” “Hm?”  Trixie roused herself from what might have actually been a standing-upright nap.  “We done?” “Okay one thing though,” southern voice spoke up.  “The cutie mark thing is actually really cool." "Please, don't," Sugarcoat grunted. "It's the most depressing thing I can think of, and it's got a very stupid name." "No, see, because it’s not just a picture on your butt, it…” “We’re done,” Sugarcoat said. Trixie hung up and grinned at her client. "Get everything you need?" "Yeah. Just wanted to be sure about some things, like why we're keeping it secret from Sunset." "Sunset." Trixie's expression darkened suddenly. "Sunset is a very good person, but she has one or two extremely misinformed opinions." Sugarcoat was confused for a moment before remembering where she had heard Trixie's name recently. She couldn't help but sympathize. However, Trixie instantly brightened again, smiling with excitement.  “Anyway. Ready to talk payment?  I have expenses.” “Money’s no object. “A whole lot of expenses.” Sugarcoat glared, despite realizing she couldn’t cow the uncowable.  “Well, let’s make a deal, then.’