"Congratulations Anonymous, I knew you could do it."
Anon shifted in his seat, ever so slightly loosening his tie. Schwartz—a balding, portly little Jewish man with a perpetually sweaty forehead—had always been a fairly reasonable boss (if only because he understood that employee morale affects productivity), but there was something about his manner that made talking to him not unlike a police interrogation.
"I, uh ... well, it wasn't anything to write home about, really, just a pretty standard deal. Besides, Walker set it up in the first place, he deserves most of the credit."
Schwarz leaned back, hands resting on his gut, and belted out a breathy chuckle.
"There's no need to be so humble. You did something today that's never been done before. Something even a great broker like Cooper isn't able to do, because he doesn't understand the market like you do. The lessons you've learned here at our firm have taught you well. You have proven that you're ready, Anonymous."
He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
"Ready for what?"
Shwartz poured from his chair, and slowly made his way to the other side of the desk, his gaze piercing straight through Anon's very being.
"You've come such a long, long way ... "
"Are you singing?"
Twilight believed, from the bottom of her heart, that Anon deserved the promotion.
There were, of course, quite a few who argued that he hadn't been with the company long enough, that he didn't have the necessary experience, that he'd be happier working most anywhere else, but Twilight paid them no mind. It was Anon who prevented the hostile takeover by Erikson Capital Partners, it was Anon who discovered that Williams had engaged in insider trading, it was Anon who negotiated the settlement with the SEC—if these things didn't warrant a management position, then nothing would.
"And I've watched you from that very first day ... "
"Mr. Schwartz, seriously, what the fuck are you doing?"
For all their talk of harmony and acceptance, ponies, as a species, were really quite skilled at alienating those who fell outside the norm—this, Twilight knew from experience. Her peers in Canterlot always kept their distance, always stared with their silent, judging eyes, and would sputter and recoil and turn the other way whenever she entered the room. She was Celestia's personal student, after all, the most powerful unicorn since Starswirl the Bearded, and this made her, in their minds, an undeserving rival, an unstable loner, a neurotic wreck with more power than sense—a freak at best, and a danger at worst.
What else was she to do but bury her head in her studies and her hobbies and whatever else would distract her from the horrible reality that her magic—her reason for being—made her an outcast?
My Little Human, therefore, wasn't so much a pastime as it was an obsession, an escape. Before she had her friends, she had her humans, and she lived through them, took their happiness and sadness as her own, and for however fake it all was, however idealized, she was content. Anonymous (that is, the show's depiction of him) was the embodiment of everything she sought in others, a sort of parasocial soulmate, and she came to love him, or at least the thought of him.
And when they finally met in person, the man himself emphatically rejected her.
Twilight couldn't blame him, really, for buried beneath all the knowledge and power was a chronic self-loathing, the kind born from sustained isolation. She was keenly aware of her social deficiencies, but hadn't the slightest idea how to change anything, so, when faced with reality, she retreated back into what was familiar. If she couldn't have the real thing, then she could at least indulge in a vicarious fiction, and that, she told herself, was enough.
"For it's time for you to fulfill your destiny ... "
"One step closer and I'm calling HR."
Perhaps, after a year or so of living in Ponyville, she was desensitized to this sort of thing, or maybe she simply didn't care anymore, but Twilight didn't so much as flinch when a brick flew through her window, and Pinkie Pie landed on her bed in a shower of splinters and broken glass.
"Hi Twi! See what I did there, with the rhyme and ... "
Pinkie was met with a half-lidded stare, and her greeting died in her throat.
"You're blocking the TV."
Twilight looked terrible—her mane was a tangled, greasy mess, and her fur was matted with week-old sweat and Cheeto dust. More out of shock than anything else, Pinkie jumped from the bed, and flinched when her hoof landed in a sticky puddle of what she desperately hoped was some kind of soda. She wasn't really sure why, exactly, Twilight was watching the monkey cartoon that Pound Cake owned some dolls of, but figured that ignoring it would be for the best.
"You, uh, you alright there, Twiley? You look like pretty, um ... tired. Yeah, let's go with that, tired."
Glassy eyes peered at the screen, only the slightest twitch of the ears betraying that the unicorn was, in fact, flesh and blood, and not some serial killer's taxidermy project.
"There's nothing. No light, no warmth, just this black, empty void. It bites, you know? Nibbles away at your soul until there's nothing left. They say it gets better, but it doesn't. It really doesn't."
Pinkie took the opportunity to edge towards the door, where the scent of urine wasn't quite as strong.
"Well, um, we didn't see you at the picnic last weekend, and I just wanted to check in, say hello, all that sort of thing. There's a small party at Sugarcube Corner tonight, if you're interested."
"A party."
"Yep! There's this couple from out of town, and something tells me they're looking for a third. One of them's this shaved diamond dog or something named Anonymous, and he ... "
Twilight's eyes widened to dinner plates—if she wasn't paying attention before, she certainly was now.
"A-Anon is here? In Ponyville?"
There was history between the two, Pinkie could tell that much, and, by the looks of things, none of it was particularly good.
"Now, if I answer 'yes' ... "
Twilight untangled herself from the bedsheets, and planted her forehooves on Pinkie's shoulders.
"Where is he?"
A trembling hoof pointed through the broken window, down towards Mane Street.
Anon was in Ponyville.
He was looking to start a herd.
She had a chance with her husbando.
"Everything's coming up Twilight!"