Volume 1 - Chapter 1 - The Story of Wallflower Thy Heroine - Always Being Left Aside
Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep
God almighty... not again. I wake up on my death bed, one more time, looking at the soul-less grey ceiling of my room. I don't want to move. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to do anything.
My dreams are getting much weirder and bizarre over time. Now I dreamt about a guy with a guitar playing a song about me... gosh, what's going on with my mind? bruh... why would I ask myself that, in the first place? I know what is the problem in my mind. I am the problem. Sometimes I wondered if everyone else was the problem, but now I know, while looking at myself in a dull mirror of this bedroom, that I am actually the worst problem in my life. I remember one more time that stone... that thing I had in my hands when I thought everybody else was the enemy and I was a victim. I chuckle while thinking that again, what a joke.
My whole life is a fucking joke. Since I was born. Let me present myself to you... should I? Should I do it?
I get out of the bedroom, wearing the same dirty pyjamas I've used for the last two weeks. They smell really bad... but do I care? Hell no. I go to the bathroom and find out there is still nobody in the kitchen. I brush my teeth.
Yeah, why not? Let me present myself. Fuck this. I've got nothing to lose...
My name is Wallflower Blush. I am now 20 years old.
I have actually no interests or hobbies at all... I loved gardening, I was even in a club before, but something happened a time ago that made me change my mind. Long story. I'll tell you later. The only thing that still makes me a useful human being is that I have a full-time job at Sugarcube Corner... that place... and I only accepted the offer because I couldn't stand Pinkie Pie and her tantrums anymore.
You may wonder what my parents think of all of this, don't you?... Let me tell you something: I have no fucking idea... no, I am not joking, literally, I have no idea... because both of them left me when I was a child. Turns out I am the result of an overly dramatic love affair between some kind of playboy named Fancy Pants and another model, much younger than him, barely on her twenties. She tried to sue him several times but never received any help and never succeeded. Everybody treated her as the crazy lady. Pfff... like mother, like daughter.
My father never recognized me. He left my mother and never looked at me in person. He may not even want to hear my name. My aunt tried to contact him but doesn't even dare to answer. On the other side, she, the stupid young lady named Orchid Petals, my mother, still wanted me because she dreamt about having a child at a young age. Unfortunately, she was only 21 when I was born and quickly found out too early that a child wasn't only something to hold in your arms and breastfeed, so she left me in her older sister's house to not take care of me again.
I don't even know what both of them are doing with their lives right now. I don't even know if my father is married to an accessory wife or where my mother is staying. I just don't want to see them again. I don't care. My aunt wanted me to sue them both a couple of years ago... but I honestly don't want anything from them. Nothing.
Oh, yes, talking about Rome... the only one who dared to raise me and sent me to each stupid academical place was my mom's older sister, my aunt Photo Finish. Do you know that when I was a child, I thought she was literally my mom and dad at the same time? Then I found out the story. She would lie on my face and tell me she was actually my mother and my real mom was just a distant aunt of mine. She apologised. She apologises every day, but I never forgave her and maybe I'll never will... and at least she understands why.
I take my dirty pyjamas off and look at my naked chest in the mirror. No, I don't have boobies, punk. I don't have a booty also... I'm sorry, I'm not a sexualized object for all of you. I'm just a stupid walking stick, and I'm proud of it (I think).
I take a short, cold shower which only reminds me of the hectic routine I've got to do every day. Then, after the attempt of putting shampoo in my horrible dry green hair, I put on another stupid bra and panties and I look at that horrible, vomitive long blue dress I have to wear for the job. Gosh, is so ugly... but I've got to put it on.
"Wallflower?" a woman raises her voice. I know who she is. "Good morning."
I slowly touch the blue dress and its uncomfortable silk which makes my whole skin itch everywhere. I hate it. "I hope so," I only reply from the bedroom. "All of the mornings have been the same."
I hear a sigh from the kitchen. "I've got to say the same, girl," she replies. "Firstly, today I have to organise another photoshoot for this stupid new girl from Manehattan Modelling... gosh, she's so talkative it makes me dizzy." I raise my eyebrows. I agree with her for the first time in... days, maybe, or weeks, I don't know. "And then... you."
I put on that blue dress and my chest it's already feeling uncomfortable. Third time in the week that the chest is the first place which itches instead of my belly. Then I hear the annoying footsteps from those deluxe black shoes she uses. She opens my door for complete and appears with her look: a big black leather trenchcoat, smart black pants and a white shirt, which get along with her short white hair and that fringe which makes me laugh, and her big purple sunglasses. She is holding a box of something that I already know it's completely useless: nicotine patches. "You know those are useless, right?" I tell her.
"I don't care how useless they are... if I don't see you with this over one of your arms, you won't come out of the house."
"Uh, come on!" I stretch my arms. "You are the one who wants me to leave smoking? You?"
She bites her lips because she knows I am right. Don't you get it? Look up her name, Photo Finish, on the Internet... most photos of her have a cigarette and smoke coming out of her mouth. "I know... but it's something horrible. It smells and tastes awful, it rots your teeth and blesses you with cancer. Besides, I only used cigarettes for my photoshoots."
"Only for them?" I cross my arms. "Are you sure?"
"No time for questions," she only replies. She doesn't want to admit it... "Put on that patch, please, and close the door once you get ready for work." Then she gets out of my room and asks the same question once again: "Any news on that gardening course I told you to look up?"
This woman doesn't understand I don't like gardening anymore. It is a passion I have truly wanted to bury since I graduated from Canterlot Hell... I mean, Canterlot High. One of the worst places I've ever been... happiness! joy! friendship! Hell yeah, are you sure about that? Do you know how many students had the intention to speak to me in those years?... I can count all of them with just my fingers... and maybe I don't even get to ten. I even had the stupid idea of being the president of that stupid gardening club for almost two years... why? Why? "I told you I'm not interested."
"In gardening? Why not?" Other questions that she has already asked. "You were interested in it while you were at scho--"
"But I'm not interested in it anymore." I get out of the bedroom and we confront each other in a small hall where is the exit. "I just... don't want to do it... or keep doing it... it's just---"
"Wallflower," she interrupts me, putting her hands over my shoulders after taking off her sunglasses, showing her barely-known dark purple eye colour. "Sweetheart... I've already told you about this. The fact that the Gardening Club you founded in your school..." she squints her eyes, about to say something that I know it's going to make me mad. "... didn't take you into account again, doesn't mean you can blame it on--"
I fastly take her arms out of my shoulders and open the entrance door of the apartment, without saying anything. "See you later!" I shout aloud. She snorts at me, crossing her arms.
"You know I am right, girl! Stop thinking about those foolish students which left you and think about your future, please!"
Shut up. She said it, and I want to get out of there so fastly that somebody (or something) up there in heaven (or hell) listens to me. The elevator is magically in front of me. I enter and don't say anything else.
Walking into the outside world again... thankfully nobody recognizes me as Photo Finish's niece or even worse... the daughter of that guy. I've got to thank my aunt for not even mentioning me on media, at least. I get out of the apartment I live and I start walking.
On my way to Sugarcube Corner, I only thought about what my aunt said. I didn't want to tell you about that because it's a long story but if I have to summarize it... I founded the Canterlot High Gardening Club, you know? It was a long time ago when I was in Freshman but turns out that nobody knew it existed until... three years later when I was in Senior. I was the only member of that club until... that happened with that stone. (I don't want to talk about it, just not). After that... incident, I was happy for a while because people actually recognised the existence of my club. Everybody loved the beautiful garden I made on my own. Alone, you heard me?... with no help at all. Everybody was proud of me, congratulated me for doing such a beautiful thing and offered their help. I was proud of myself, maybe for the first time.
However, once I graduated from school, all of the members of the club who were supporting and helping me with the garden never called me back and never said anything to me. They magically disappeared from my life, so I, being confused, decided to visit the garden, my garden one morning. All of the projects I've been working on while being at school, the plants and flowers I raised and watched grow on my own, with nobody else behind me.... were changed without my permission. Most plants were cut or taken out of their homes of grass, and most of the pots disappeared. I asked one of my friends (if I can call them like that) from the club why did they do such a thing without telling me before... and her answer was...
"Sorry, we forgot to call you."
When I was in high school, I'd think that the main problem in my life and the cause of why my behaviour was like this was because of everybody else, so I decided to live in silence, proving the point that everybody rejected me and, at the same time, hoping for someone who could, at least, ask me what time is it... but it never happened, and that stone only worsened that thought of mine, making me think I was a foolish demi-god or something... no, no, I don't want to talk about that.
... then she came into my life. Sunset Shimmer. Gosh, I hated her so much... I may still hate her a bit, I'm not going to lie to you. She was so mean to everyone and then suddenly... boom! She was the sweetheart of the school. Never in my life I have seen a change like this again... and it made me feel so stupid at that time. I would compare myself to her so many times at that moment, that it made me feel I could never be able to change... or to be like her, and I used that stone for my own advantage and found out the real root of my problem.
The stone made me think about it, and I knew it when my club friends forgot to call me. I am the problem, not the others. I am cursed. I was born with a curse... I'm always being left aside. I'm always in the corner... invisible. That's who I am... and maybe I'll have to live with that... forever.
... Oh, wait. I think I walked further than I had to. I passed by the store. Damnit.
After walking almost a mile from my house (if you want to call it like this), I arrive at my workplace.
I'll be honest with you: I hate this job. I don't like it at all, although I've got to admit my bosses and partners are not that bad (even Pinkie), but oh my god! The clients... thank God we have a Pinkie Pie that can make them insane by talking to them... and you know, there are only two things that can make me wake up and put this blue dress on, grab that horrible white apron in the kitchen and do my work. The first of those two things is the money which I don't even spend, I only keep it in my room for god knows what... but it can be useful, I don't know. The second thing... is now standing behind the cash register, looking at the machine and touching it with her trembling hands, having also her own blue dress and that apron.
I thought, for a while, that I was just a stupid asexual girl who didn't want to meet everybody, something I told myself even after graduating from Canterlot High...
... until I met Coco Pommel at this job, the cause of my mental roulette playing every morning. Due to her having only a part-time job at the store, she doesn't work here every day of the week and always schedules her agenda with the bosses. Every time she is in the store, I hit the jackpot. Every time she is not, I lose.
She is a sweet, kind girl, same age as me... so shy at first but once you get on with her, you find out how gentle and good-hearted she is... besides, she can be easily a model with her shape and her beautiful face which perfectly goes on with her short light-blue hair (she even has a freaking fringe that really gets on well with her, not like... uh-hmm... the photographer) but she always says her dream is to make dresses and clothes for models instead of being in the picture. She doesn't like showbiz and prefers to be far away from cameras. She has a purpose... and may be the only person that, or at least tries to, makes me feel I have a purpose. Which one? I don't know... but every time she speaks to me, she tries to say something to me... she looks at me with caring, kind eyes. Makes me feel OK for a bit... but no. I don't have to see her as a remedy, she's a person... and no, she's not for me. I don't deserve her. Hell no... why would she be with me? She's not even a lesbian, bi or pansexual or whatever... and I know that. I fucking know that.
One morning, her boyfriend appeared in the store and presented himself. It may have been one of the worst things I've ever seen and felt in my life, and I've got ignored by an entire student body... Prince Blueblood, from an upper-class family of United Cavalry! I'd prefer one of those asshole clients that desperately try to get Coco's phone number to be with her rather than a fucking egocentric and elitist son of a bitch! All of his manners, words, phrases and even his reaction to his girlfriend's part-time job sounded... ugh, ugh, I have to calm down. I have to calm down.
"Hi." That's the only thing I say, to find out if I have any response from the ones who are there. Surprisingly, Pinkie Pie hasn't arrived yet... she's always the first one to be here, even before Mr and Mrs Cake. Coco raises her hand and smiles at me. That's the only thing I needed to feel better.
"Hi, Wallflower Blush..." she says, almost whispering. She's been always too shy for speaking. Why does such a sweet soul have to be with a stupid asshole? "How are you doing?"
I smile at her. "Great... how about you, Coco?"
I pass by the register and we bump our fists. I saw nobody, except her boyfriend, kissing her cheek. She hates that kind of contact... just like me. (No, it's not another excuse for finding things where we can match... or it is). "Great too... last night I've been looking with Blue for some offers on what I want to do..."
Gosh. Blue... but I don't care. I only blink. "Graphic design, yes... did you find something? I can help if you want to."
"No, it's OK... it's OK," she keeps smiling. "Thanks anyway... but Blue has already told me he found something related to Upper Crust, who might be looking for an assistant... you know her?"
Blank face. "Not really," I reply, biting a lip. "I don't know who she is."
She chuckles. "Well, it's not important... well, actually it is but it's not so necessary to kno--"
"Yes, yes, I do understand, Coco." I feel bad for interrupting her but if I don't stop her there, she will be correcting herself forever. "She is some kind of designer or...?"
She passionately starts speaking. "Yes, she is a famous designer, one of the biggest in the country along with Suri Polomare and Hoity Toity. She is one of the three... if I get the chance..." she bites her lips and puts her hands over her waist, happily. "It'll be... oh, jeez... it'll be my dream come true..."
"You'll get it, girl," I tell her with a wink. "I know you'll get it."
"Yeah, I think that too." Suddenly, Pinkie Pie is literally in front of us and the cash register. Where did she come from? I didn't even hear the sound of the do... oh, never mind. "Hi, girls! Good morning."
Pinkie Pie. I don't hate her but... sometimes she is too annoying. I don't complain though, she is the one that makes all of the awful clients go insane with her non-stop chatting. She is like a weapon. "Hi, Pinkie," replies Coco, smiling. I only raise a thumb to her.
"Pinkie!" is heard from inside the kitchen, a place I still haven't entered. "Please, I need your help." A tall man comes out of it... Mr Cake. He looks at me, I look at him. I wave my hand and he only raises a thumb. "Hi, Blush... mind if you can help me with the kitchen?"
"Good morning, Blush!" is heard from inside, this time a woman's voice. Mrs Cake is also here and I almost forgot it.
"Good morning, Mrs Cake!" I shout, and go back to where I was... or well, where I am basically the whole day: between the kitchen and the counter. That's my role in this place: Coco is at the counter, hiding from the clients, while Pinkie unexplainably is the waitress for all. I don't know how does she do it, but I saw her once attending 8 different clients at the same time, and there was another time she delivered almost thirty dishes with only her two hands. She is 100% the most important piece in this group. On the other side, Mr and Mrs Cake are imprisoned in the kitchen... and then, me. I have no specific role, and I only await for orders to come, while walking and messing around. Like always... I'm being left aside... with no particular job at all. I could be a waitress but the least I want to do is talk to people after the Gardening Club thing... sometimes I think I'm prepared to do it, but neither Carrot nor Cup Cake wants me to do what Pinkie does perfectly... if I was younger I would have hated Pinkie but... right now, I don't know how to feel about this.
I go back to my spot: no spot at all.
