A series of tiny bells jingled as the glass door creaked open.
Across the small hair studio, a young woman perked up at the sound. She waved cheerfully, a comb still in her hand. In front of her, a middle-aged lady dozed off under a head full of curlers. “Hello! How can we help you today?”
“Hey,” Sunset Shimmer smiled, leaning on the counter. “I’m just here to trim my hair shorter. Make it a layered cut, too.” She glanced around—the salon was already bustling, the air filled with the sounds of sloshing water, whirring hairdryers and snipping scissors. Almost every seat occupied by a customer. “It’s looking full today. Should I come back another day or...”
“Hmm?” The woman looked up. “Oh, no. Just sit anywhere and make yourself comfortable. I’ll call someone... ” She said something in the lady customer’s ear. The customer didn’t appear to hear her, so she shrugged, put down her equipment and dashed inside the back room.
By ‘sit anywhere’, she really meant ‘the only free chair at the very end’. The place was cosy and down-to-earth, which was what Sunset liked about it, but that also meant it was very, very small. So Sunset made her way over, habitually grabbing a hairdressing gown from the shelf and putting it on herself. She was craning to tie the knot on the back of her neck when she caught the trailing sounds of this new employee’s voice… one that was chillingly familiar.
She froze, the ends of the ribbon slipping from her fingers. Fumbling, she gathered up the loose fabric and re-fastened the knot, letting out a nervous chuckle. But then she heard footsteps approaching.
And from a little room, emerged the salon owner, followed closely by a woman in uniform. Her bushy, yellow-streaked orange ponytail swishing behind tall yellow legs.
Sunset took a long… deep… breath.
Comb, comb, comb.
Clip!
Comb, comb, comb.
Sunset coughed awkwardly.
Adagio looked at her like she had just swallowed a frog.
Sunset recomposed herself and scrambled for something to say. “Remember, I want it just below the shoulders. Not too short.”
Adagio, who had been combing her hair in abject silence, nodded stiffly in the mirror.
“And if you could make it thinner too, that would be great,” she continued, arms fidgeting under the gown.
Another silent nod.
“Weather is getting hot these days, you feel me?”
To this, Adagio finally made a noise— a dry laugh out the side of her glossed lips. “Yeah. Damn right I do.”
Sunset gave an uneasy smile. Shifted. "Sooo… What made you start working here? I thought you just did music with Sonata Dusk and Aria Blaze."
"We did, until you girls came along and ruined everything," Adagio said pointedly.
"Can't say I feel bad for you."
"Jee, thanks." Adagio spat—then deflated, the momentary spark of viciousness in her eyes fading back to their dull raspberry shade. "Well, world domination was getting tiring, anyway."
“That’s… great to hear!” Sunset beamed plastically. A beat. “So why a hairdresser?”
“I have always had a burning passion for cutting hair,” Adagio droned.
“Yeah,” Sunset rolled her eyes at that, “And I have a burning passion for making sushi.”
“Alright, since you asked so nicely,” Adagio sniffled. “I came into the shop looking for a job; Iris—the boss here— said she had to interview me first. Then she looked up from her work, saw my fabulous hair, and hired me on the spot.”
“Really. I think you would be better as a stand-up comedian.”
“What a great idea, sweetie.” Her voice was high and mocking, as if speaking to a child. “I should just go out there, say some jokes, and my bills will be magically paid.”
"Live alone, huh? Now that’s something I can relate to." Sunset raised an eyebrow. Throughout her (admittedly short) human life, other kids her age stayed in their parents’ houses. Even now that they’d graduated, these barely ‘young adults’ still relied on them to give them a transition period to financial independence. Having basically hopped across dimensions, Sunset had never had anyone— not even distant relatives— to count on for her living expenses in the human world. It was rare seeing anyone else share a similar predicament, much less the exact same.
"...Honestly, sometimes I think even living alone would be better," Adagio frowned into the mirror. "Better than having two deadweights for sisters who do nothing but complain. Sonata— she's good at vocal processing, but it's all she ever does, and she’s slow, and she procrastinates forever on them. And don't get me started on Aria. What wouldn't I give to have them out of my hair for good."
"Nah," Sunset murmured. "Not really."
"Hm?"
Sunset thought of her own house. When she had first moved in, it was drab, unfurnished, and reeked of mildew and dust. There were scratches and a large, gaping hole in the wall that revealed the inner structures (goodness knows what caused that), but with that ridiculously low rent price, she knew she’d never see a better deal again. So she’d learnt to live with it. Cold, dark nights passed on a mattress she ‘borrowed’ from the classroom’s combined ‘cozy corner’; her meals were school lunches stolen from the most vulnerable. And when she spoke to herself, convincing herself that all was right with what she did, her voice echoed back to her against the high ceilings.
For a brief period of time, Twilight Sparkle and the rest of her gang filled the place with joy and laughter. They had had smiles so easy on their faces when they volunteered to prettify her trainwreck of a house. She could still remember Twilight and Applejack making the blueprints, Rainbow Dash whizzing around with her drill, Pinkie Pie splashing paint with a manic look in her eyes, Fluttershy bringing plants in from her nursery and Rarity’s generous gift of silk linens and her sound eye for interior design. Soon the place had transformed so much that she could barely recognise it. In a good way.
But after graduation?
After they graduated, they still kept in touch for a few months. Then things started to drift apart. Rainbow was the first to announce her departure, to join the national football team, followed by Twilight Sparkle, who accepted a prestigious scholarship overseas. Pinkie started dating some guy and spent much less time with the rest of them. Applejack never did say she left, but she gradually became so preoccupied with the farm’s affairs that she turned down most outings; Rarity was not much different, for taking over a boutique all on her own was tough work. Sunset wasn’t even sure what Fluttershy was up to now; she hadn’t heard anything from her since graduation. Their shared groupchat once had hundreds of messages per day, to a point where the constant vibrating of her muted phone was annoying. Now she yearned for just one ‘ding’ of the notification sound, even if it was just Pinkie Pie’s all-caps good-mornings.
Now, with no one around, even all the fairy lights in the world didn’t help how empty and silent the house felt.
“So,” Adagio demanded, breaking her thoughts. “Are you just going to continue sitting there in meditation, or are you going to say something?”
"...As stupid as it sounds, it gets lonely. Without people," Sunset chewed her lip. "And my friends— they're just all wrapped up in their own things now. Isn’t it funny? You're probably the first face from CHS that I've seen in years, and you weren't even an actual student. "
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Adagio batted the air with her free hand. "Still beats two insufferable sisters pestering you every second. Now don't hunch over like that, or you'll end up with a bob instead of a shoulder-length."
Sunset straightened up and Adagio resumed cutting. The tips of the comb worked its way through frazzled knots in a methodical fashion. The strokes were firm and regular, like a ticking clock.
"But there's a reason why you never just left them, right?"
"You mean why I never just dropped them at the corner street where they belong? Excellent idea. I'll do that right after my shift today."
"But you won't."
"..."
"Say what you will, Miss Siren," Sunset smirked lightly. "But I don't need to hold your hand to know what you really think." By all means it was a logical deduction. Having no qualms with mass destruction, the elder siren could have easily left her sisters to starve if she truly hated them. But other than that, she could also sense a warmth in those otherworldly raspberry eyes that would not have abandoned her kin.
“Hold… my hand?”
“I usually keep it a secret, but blast it,” Sunset rolled her eyes. She lowered her voice so no one else could hear, “My gig is ‘empathy’, though it’s more of mind-reading, really. I can read minds by touching people.”
“Ah. That explains how freaky amazing you were at taking over Canterlot High.”
“I wouldn’t call it amazing. I had people to show me a better… more peaceful way.” Sunset stared at the lock of hair that hung in front of her own forehead— a crimson, curly cowlick that fell squarely between her parted fringes. She had tried to get rid of it multiple times by sweeping it into the sides, but still it remained there. Ever persistent, and ever out of place.
She cleared her throat, “What’s ironic, though, is that I came here with this clear goal in mind. When I hopped through that mirror, my sole purpose was to take over this world. It was a ‘if I can’t rule Equestria, then I’ll rule these pathetic humans!’ sorta thing. I used to know what I wanted and what I had to do to clinch it. Now I just work odd jobs, trying to keep myself alive. But to what end?”
Adagio showed no sympathy at that. “Well, you basically brought that upon yourself. Equestria didn’t kick you out. I would have picked Equestria to take over any day. Where I would have magic that didn’t depend on a silly pendant.”
“Yeah, but you were a havoc-wrecking monstrosity. I was Celestia’s student.”
“To quote you— can’t say I feel bad.”
“Hehee… We think just the same.” Sunset giggled dryly. “So you know what it’s like, being stuck between two worlds and belonging to none of them.”
“Equestria welcomes you anytime,” Adagio grumbled.
“You say that like you miss them.”
“I miss not having to pay for things, yes.”
“The villages don’t miss getting pilfered, I imagine.”
“Who even cares about those random villages. It’s almost like they were created specifically so that evil bastards like me can terrorise them.”
“...”
Silence hung in the air. Sunset stared into the mirror, watching the edges of her hair fall away in yellow and red clumps.
Adagio started talking again. “I’ve been around for a long time. Far longer than you and normal ponies and anyone else who roams this world.” Her nostrils flared. “So I think I can give a solid explanation for what you’re feeling.”
Sunset waited.
Adagio unclipped the top portion of Sunset’s hair. It fell around her shoulders. “Life sucks.”
The hairdressing gown was the only obstacle in the way of Sunset’s facepalm. “Are you bucking kidding me.”
“You think your life sucks?” Adagio muttered, holding up a lock to snip somewhat aggressively at the end of it. “Try mutiplying that by three thousand and you’ll see what I mean. That’s one thing to be glad about being a human now. It cuts short the two thousand more I had as a siren.”
Sunset was confused, but Adagio’s ramble didn’t stop. “I wasn’t always destructive, y’know. For the first few centuries, I was benign, my sisters and I minded our own crudder, never bothered anycreature. Once a thousand years had passed, it all got so unbearably boring that we decided to buck up some pony towns for fun. I mean, ponies were basically nothing to us, and we had so much power lying around unused. I’d say being evil is inevitable. Living too long does that to anycreature.”
“Not an excuse,” Sunset cut in, glaring. “The Princesses have been around forever, and they haven’t decimated Equestria to nothingness.”
Adagio licked her lips, a forked tongue darting across her teeth almost too fast for Sunset to catch. “You wouldn’t understand. Celestia and Luna and the rest of them are alicorns conceived from harmony. Sirens were conceived by mistake.”
“Huh...” Sunset didn’t know this before. “What do you mean?”
“Sirens,” Adagio explained, “Were caused by a mutation in hippocampi. Dark magic, natural gene alteration, no one knows. Anyway, our existence is literally meant to cause trouble, spread chaos and conquer Equestria. So most Sirens end up killed, or if they’re too strong, banished.” She smirked, seeming proud of herself. “You can tell I gave that old stallion Starswirl a heck of a time.”
“That isn’t true,” argued Sunset. “If you say Sirens are innately evil, then why wait a thousand years? Shouldn’t you have been destroying towns from the moment you were hatched?”
“Okay, so maybe boredom had to do with it. But what matters of it? If we are evil by nature, or become evil out of hurt, out of shame, out of boredom, even out of nothing— isn’t it the same? We’re evil. End of story. Don’t really see why we should go against that which we are.”
“What if that isn’t what we are?” Sunset said, unconvinced. “Being evil, I mean. Like, I’m not evil anymore.”
“Psh. I’m sure you’re still evil. Evil doesn’t just disappear,” Adagio dismissed. There was a hardened tone to her voice. “It’s a decision you make one day and it becomes a part of you. Living too long or living through too much does that to you, nothing to be ashamed of. When I heard of you, the Queen of CHS, even controlling the human counterparts of Goddesses. With no magic? Pretty impressive. You have it in you to be a great villain.”
Sunset closed her eyes. In her mind she saw herself, lying in a crater of her regrets, and looking up only to see the foggy shape of an outstretched hand. She saw a crazed purple demon taking her hand, melting away into her best friend in a brilliant flash of white. The laughter, joy, forgiveness, peace— so many memories flashed and melded together that they could not be individually pinpointed, but the resulting tapestry coalesced into a single, inexplicable emotion. When she reopened her eyes, she saw the cowlick hanging in front of her forehead. But she felt no irritation at it; only warmness.
She smiled. “Have you ever had true friends before?”
“Listen, if you’re going to preach to me about the magic of friendship, I don’t want any of it.”
“I didn’t use to believe in friendship. But believe me, it helped me so much.” She stood up. Adagio opened her mouth, but she shrugged the hairdressing gown off. Her hands finally free, she reached up to hold the other’s shoulder.
“If you’re reading my mind I’m gonna shove this comb so far u—”
“Relax, my ability only works with direct skin contact.” Sunset gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Now hear me out. Friendship isn’t such a bad thing, and a friendship can change. It can change situations, change worlds, and even change a person.”
“Okay-kay-kay,” Adagio pushed her hand off, her voice rising in pitch. “You were just talking about how your friends ditched you.”
“I rarely see them anymore. And maybe we’re not as close as we used to be. But we will always be friends. In here,” Sunset placed a hand on her own chest, feeling her heart beat. Her friends might’ve not even really been friends anymore. They had drifted to such an extent that the versions of them she knew so well were probably vastly different from who they were now. But the past endured within her. In the bits of personality, the catchphrases she adopted, the happy moments that remained sweet when she thought of them, tickling her senses and accompanying her on lonely nights.
“Can you imagine? I thought CHS was just a tiny step in my goal. I thought I would be happy only after conquering the entire human world." She laughed, shaking her head. "But instead… I ended up staying and finishing human high school. And those were the happiest years of my entire life.”
Adagio opened her mouth again, but didn’t say anything. Her fingers brushed over where her ruby pendant would have been years ago. Something seemed to flash across her eyes, but the girl shook it away.
“I… ” she managed in a rush. “You just stood up like that. I haven’t finished cutting, you know. You ruined your haircut.”
“Please,” Sunset snorted. “The last time you touched my hair was at least five minutes ago. Face it, you just wanted someone to talk to.” She walked over, picked up the hairdressing gown, and folded it into a neat square. Placing it back on the shelf, she turned around to give Adagio’s back a firm pat.
“It’s not my business to decide whether you make friends or not. You don’t have powers anyway and won’t do any harm. I’m only telling all this to you because I think that you do deserve a chance at friendship.”
“Thanks for the haircut; I’ve got places to be, and so I’m gonna go now.”
She headed for the door. As the bells jingled against the glass, Adagio Dazzle spoke again, her voice unexpectedly gentle.
“Can I have your number?”