All day long, Cheerilee stood and looked on as the schoolhouse was torn to the ground.
It was only a matter of time really. The old building had been slated for demolition months ago. There were no protests in front of the town hall to be had, no angry letters to the city council, no calls for a renovation. It didn’t even draw a crowd when it began. A few curious onlookers did stop to gander occasionally, though they would quickly tucker out and be on their merry little way, perhaps for the better.
Cheerilee stayed. She was the only one that ever did. She just felt like she had to. Like it was something that’s required of her, but there was never an inert desire or outside force at play that compelled her to do so. No, it was presumably the work of nature. Like honeybees to a flower.
She brought a scarf in case it got windy. An umbrella in case it rained. Even packaged some meals should the demolition last longer than expected, which it did. The old building was a stubborn beast, needlessly so. Even in its final throes, it proved to be quite the piece of work, as if it wasn’t about to make things any easier for those tearing it apart. Cheerilee, strangely enough, can empathise.
The foremare became the only company she had in her time there. She was kind enough to share some crackers for a light nibble in between her boxed meals. Some small talk here and there too, though Cheerilee made sure they were over as quickly as they started. She would much rather listen to the shrieking of broken glass and the screaming of wooden beams than engage in dry and witless conversations. She was polite with her dismissals, of course. After all, what good would it do her now to speak her mind? What good had it ever done in the first place?
Come evening, the last walls of the schoolhouse were torn down. What remained of the rubble had all been piled up, ready to be collected and hauled to a dump. Nevertheless, Cheerilee lingered amid the settling dust, her gaze not so much on the remains of the schoolhouse as to the soil beneath it. A tap on her shoulder strayed her attention momentarily towards the foremare, who handed her a faded red woodchip.
“Here,” she said, bearing one last grin. “For posterity.”
Cheerilee couldn’t bring herself to return a smile of her own. “Thank you.”
.
.
Perhaps it all started when she uttered to her ex-coltfriend the magic words three.
”You exhaust me.”
She never meant to say them, of course. It just slipped out, like water bursting from a dam. Regardless, by the time Cheerilee realized what she had done, there was nothing between them to salvage after the fact. The rest of their time together, and every other day since, had become nothing more than a slow downward spiral. The demolition of the schoolhouse was only the latest nail to properly sink in.
She had considered many things. A coloring book, a cat, a change of scenery even. Anything to distract her from her current trudge through the menagerie of daily miseries. Some nights, before heading to bed, she would finally muster enough courage to look at herself in the mirror and spontaneously declare a newfound commitment, only for it to crumble from her weathered shoulders when she wakes up the following morning. In the end, all Cheerilee had left was the same old routine of hanging her head low and dragging herself to the nearest bar, hoping to high heaven the pain would briefly leave her alone after a drink or two.
Of course, her ex would be there as well.
It was his bar, after all.
“Bee’s Knees. On the house.”
Cheerilee had only a frown as the bartender and proud owner of the establishment, Savoir Fare, slid the martini towards her. As always, the bar had long since closed. The last of its loyal patrons had left almost an hour ago, save for her. She had opted to stay behind for a few more glasses, which was becoming a more common occurrence than she would’ve liked. She can only imagine what Savoir would say about it. As if she hadn’t heard everything that he had to say about it already.
“You know a simple bourbon would be enough for me, Savoir.”
“You look like you needed a treat tonight,” Savoir replied with a shrug as he began wiping the shot glasses clean. “A good drink always opens you up for a great conversation. What better way than to serve an old favorite of yours?”
Her ensuing smirk, though good-natured, was vacant. Cheerilee took a sip nevertheless.
“As if I have any secrets left for you to pry.”
“You’d be surprised, mon Chérilee.” She always hated how suave he’d made himself sound whenever he said that. “I take it you were at the demolition this morning?”
She nodded.
“Shame, really,” he continued. “They could’ve done something besides tearing it down. A place with that kind of history, some refurbishments here and there, it could’ve been something special.”
“Mm.”
“You’d think the town would throw a fit. Or a vigil. You know, something.”
“That’s just how Ponyville is.” Cheerilee took a sip of her martini, the fizz of lemon and gin like diamonds between her lips as she puckered them in relish. “I told you, didn’t I? I’ve seen it coming the moment Princess Twilight announced she was opening the School of Friendship. Everything after that was just destiny at play.”
In other words, nature. Honeybees to a flower.
“The old you would think it’s unfair. That Princess Twilight went ahead without thinking of the consequences.”
“I’m very sure I’ve thought that at some point.” Cheerilee would’ve laughed freely if she didn’t still believe that. “She meant well. We both know she did. It’s all good intentions with her. Reckless, but good.”
“I still think you should reconsider her offer.”
“And I’ll say it again, I have no interest in teaching there. Still don’t. Besides,” she took another sip, “it’s been years. Starlight’s principal now. They’re doing a lot better for themselves than ever before. They don’t need me there.”
“You’ll never know, Chér.”
“That’s right. I’ll never know,” Cheerilee repeated with a knowing simper, which only earned her a disapproving stare. One long sip of her martini later, she nudged her empty glass forward. “If you may?”
Savoir could only sigh and oblige.
Cheerilee continued: “Remember how everypony acted so surprised when it closed down? How they’d come up and talk to me about all the memories they’ve made there, all the friendships they’ve had. The schoolhouse had been a big part of their life, they’d tell me. Yet when the time came?”
A gruff snort.
“Frankly, I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have been surprised anymore. It’s always the same with these kinds of things. The only reason ponies bring it up is because it’s convenient for a conversation, nothing more. One minute, it’s the talk of the town. The next, it’s as if nothing ever happened.”
“They do care, Chér.”
“If they cared, it wouldn’t be demolished in the first place,” Cheerilee sharply rebutted over the crackling of ice being juggled around in a cocktail shaker. “It’s gone now, nothing we can do about it. No one cared when it was around, no one cared when it was being demolished, now no one will care that it’s gone.”
Savoir had but a deep frown, even as he poured her drink into the glass. “And that’s somehow better? For it to go so quietly like this?” he asked, though for a moment, it seemed as though he wanted to say something else.
“It’s better that way.”
“Surely you don’t actually believe that?”
“What’s the point of fighting it?” Cheerilee asked, not that she wanted an answer. “No one had used the schoolhouse for years, Savoir. The paint’s faded, the garden’s full of weeds, the playground’s just a field of safety hazards, even the building itself is falling apart. It became an eyesore, Savoir, and the ponies here would rather get rid of it than bother thinking about how much it would cost to renovate and transform it into something of sentimental value, as if that ever meant to anyone here in Ponyville. There was never really a worthwhile battle to be had in the first place.”
“I just wished you did something more, that’s all.”
Disappointment. Beneath the fizzing bubbles, she could hear it seethe.
“Then what do you think I should’ve done?” Cheerilee asked after a minute of strenuous silence. “Honestly, tell me. I wish to hear it from you.”
Savoir whistled. “That never ends well.”
“You know I couldn’t care less about what you or anyone else thinks about me anymore, Savoir.”
“Yet here you are, asking for my opinion.”
“I’m looking for honesty, Savoir. If there’s ever one thing I know you can deliver to me in spades besides your cocktails, it’s that.” Cheerilee reached her hoof out towards her drink, only to pull back. “Look, I know I left some noteworthy impressions on you, some of them a bit more negative than others, but we’re past that point, Savoir, you should know that.”
“I do know that.”
“So you can tell me, yes? From one friend to another?”
Savoir raised an eyebrow. He placed the glass he was cleaning to the side. “Is that really what you’re here for?” he questioned. “Advice from a friend?”
Her frown darkened. “No, I’m here to bask in your condescension.”
“I’m asking a serious question, Chér.”
“Of course you are.” From the back of her throat, a prickling nicker. “Tell me, Savoir, do you do this to all your customers or is this service specially reserved for scorned lovers?”
“The latter,” Savoir answered, much to her indignation. “You know, I was hoping you’d never bring it up again, but here we are.”
“Perhaps you should’ve done more than hope.”
“Or perhaps I shouldn’t have placed my hopes on somepony so irresponsible.”
“You act as if it’s somehow my fault the schoolhouse got torn down.”
“And therein lies the problem.”
Cheerilee’s glare pounced upon him. Savoir consequently reciprocated in equal measure.
“It always is someone’s fault with you," he accused. "Yours, mine, doesn’t matter. What matters to you is that someone’s at fault here. Someone has to take the fall.”
“Point being?”
“You’re so hung up about placing the blame that you could never bring yourself to move on from everything that happened.” Savoir sighed as her glance fell away from him. “Look, you’re stuck, Cheerilee. You know that, I know that, we both know that. You don’t want to admit it, fine, but you’re stuck regardless. You always look tired every time I see you, you haven’t had a job in years and you’re drinking yourself to near-death in my bar. You might not believe this but I’m worried about you, Chér. Frankly speaking, I’m not the only one who feels that way.”
A sardonic laugh. “Oh yeah? Who else?”
“I’m not going to name names just to see you burn what little bridges you have left. I just want to help you. That’s what this is about.” Savoir grumbled deeply to himself, as if preparing for the worst. “Lucky for you, it just so happens that I have a problem that you might be able to help me with. A problem that I would pay good money for you to fix.”
Stifling a groan, Cheerilee downed her martini.
“It’s about Fuchsia—”
“No.”
“I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“You don’t have to,” she snapped, slamming her empty glass onto the table as she stood to leave. “And you said you want to help me. You’re sick, you know that?"
“It’s not what you think it is, Chér. Look, forget everything that happened between us and think about it, just for one second. You need something to keep you afloat. I need a tutor for my daughter to help her with her general studies. This can help us both.”
“You’re not doing this for me. You can say that all you want but we both know that’s not the case.”
“Fine, I'll admit it, okay? This is more for me than it is for you. Okay, I know it’s selfish, believe me, I know.” Savoir reached for her hoof, though she quickly yanked it away with a scowl. “But the truth is despite everything I’ve said to you, everything that we’ve been through, you’re still one of the best teachers I know. If there’s anyone I can trust to help Fuschia, it’s you.”
It was a bald-faced lie. Cheerilee knew it was. Savoir would never have offered if she was still teaching at the schoolhouse, that much was certain. For him to corner her with an offer such as that? It was a new low, even for him. As dire as her situation was, it’s not as though she was desperate enough that she would snatch up every opportunity that came before her. She was a mare that knew better than to throw away her ideas and beliefs for the sake of a few more bits in her pocket. She was a mare that still has her dignity intact. A mare that still has her pride.
Then again, what good did her pride do for her in her time of need?
What good had it ever done in the first place?
And so, Cheerilee clenched her eyes shut and swallowed all that was left of her pride with her drink, her teeth grinding beneath her cheeks as she slid her empty martini glass forward.
“When do I start?”
.