//------------------------------// // 3. The Acting Club // Story: Sweetie Belle Learns Rarity Is Trans // by cookiefonster //------------------------------// In the kitchen of Carousel Boutique, Rarity and Sweetie Belle were taking a break from their deep sisterly conversation to cook some pancakes together. Rarity had prepared the batter for their latest batch; after some persuasion, she allowed Sweetie Belle to flip the pancakes herself. While Sweetie Belle never had the best track record as a chef, Rarity knew that the only way to improve a skill was through regular practice. Sweetie Belle walked towards her sister with a steaming plate. “Here you go, Rarity! A blueberry pancake, just the way you wanted.” Rarity lifted the pancake with her magic, examining it for any burnt spots. She had left her sewing glasses upstairs, so squinting was the next best option. “Wait a minute, Sweetie Belle. How many blueberries did you put inside this pancake?!” “Six! One for each of the best friends you went on all those adventures with.” “Sweetie Belle, I clearly told you that a crêpe is to have no more than five blueberries inside it. Now, with that said—” Rarity neatly cut a square corner off her pancake, chewed it for a few seconds, and swallowed “—oh, mmm. Your blueberry crêpes are quite delicious.” “Thanks! I really tried to make something edible for once. I know Mom and Dad always say I’m a good cook, but then I try some of it myself and it’s like... OK, how can they even pretend this burnt mess qualifies as lemonade?” Rarity laughed. “Ah, yes. Mom and Dad have always been weird like that.” “Have they really?” “Oh, complimenting inedible cuisine is hardly the beginning.” School had gotten increasingly lonely for Rarity. Since the incident in art class a few years ago, he felt more and more out of place among his classmates. All the boys were rowdy and hectic, and they surrounded him in most of his classes. Whenever some girls walked by, they would exchange gossip he couldn’t understand a word of. He had increasingly long moments where he spaced out, thinking about how cool it would be if he could be a filly even for one day. He knew that could only ever be in his imagination, but the thought bubbled in his head for so long that he needed to let it out to somepony. And for better or for worse, the best options were his parents. “Mom, Dad,” Rarity said, “is it strange that I sometimes, um... wish I was a lady?” “A lady, you say. Is this about your interest in knitting?” Mom asked. “We have no problem if you prefer arts and fashion over sports. You’ll always be our dear son either way.” “She’s right,” said Dad. “My best friend is a grown stallion, and he designs dolls for a living! Your interests are nothing to be ashamed of.” Rarity didn’t know how to respond to this. He knew he should have felt reassured, but he didn’t. Having interests like a mare wasn’t the same as wanting to be a mare, but how would his parents know the difference? A white stallion and a pink mare—two ponies clearly complacent with the lives they chose, like all adult ponies seemed to be. Oh, if only Rarity could have a little sister. A sister who he could teach everything he knew and laugh with and sew with, and she could tell him all about what it’s like to be a girl. He had asked his parents again and again, and they would always say the same thing no matter how hard he pleaded. But maybe they’ve changed their minds now! Holding out hope, he chose to ask again. “So, um... could you remind me again, why exactly don’t you want me to have a little sister?” “Oh, Rarity,” said Mom. “Even if we wanted to have another kid, we can’t choose if it’s a filly or a colt. We got lucky when we had you, because your dad would always tell me how much he wanted a son.” Dad put a hoof on his wife’s shoulder and laughed. “Oh, you know I would have loved a daughter just as much. But yes, even if we wanted another kid, one son is already a boatload to take care of.” “Well,” Rarity asked, “if your first kid turned out to be a filly, then would you have tried again?” Mom and Dad tried to hide it, but a jolt ran through both their faces. They exchanged glances for a few seconds, then Dad spoke up. “Son, why don’t you go upstairs and get ready to sleep? Your mother and I are going to have an adult conversation.” Getting sent upstairs was just as well, because Rarity had only two weeks left to practice his audition for the lead female role in his school play, and it needed to be perfect. Earlier this year, his parents had wanted him to join an after-school club, suggesting badminton, buckball, hoofball, and even Fillydelphian hoofball, whatever that was. They were surprised when he went for the Ponyville Foals’ Acting Club, but something about theater performance just spoke to him. It felt like the dream of a lifetime to get on a stage and show himself to a crowd of hundreds while putting on a dramatic role, presenting himself as whichever kind of pony he wanted to be. And as a nice bonus, he never had to get his hooves dirty! Rarity looked in the mirror and combed his shaggy, overgrown hair in two swift motions, a routine that he had done every evening for the past week. Then he put a gentle dab of gel in, just enough that his mother wouldn’t notice somepony else was using it. He cleared his throat and put on the best dramatic ladylike voice with a fanciful accent he could. “STOP, my love! Would a stallion as kind as you EVER consider to settle things peaful—peaceabal... peacefulufufYYY... COUGH COUGH COUGH” Ouch. Putting his voice this high for more than ten seconds really strained Rarity’s throat. Let’s try a different approach, he thought. “STOP, my love!” Rarity narrowed his eyes and turned his head to the side. “Now, now, would a stallion as kind as you ever consider to settle things PEACEfu... Blech.” Oh, how he hated when his voice cracked. “I was doing so well for a moment there,” he muttered. “Stop, my love! Oh, would a stallion as kind as you ever consider to settle things... settle things? With... peace?” This was going to be a long few hours. But Rarity knew it would be worth it when he finally got the part. “We’re sorry, Rarity. You didn’t get the part.” “WHAT?! But... how can this be? This must be a huge mistake.” Rarity paced in circles, trying to process the news that hit him. “This can’t be possible! I put all my energy for the past three weeks into practicing for the role, and I even rehearsed a ladylike voice for it, and styled my mane appropriately, and put on some convincing fake eyelashes. Are you sure Cheerilee is a better fit than me?” The club’s lead judge put a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “Look,” she said, “we were all very impressed with your performance. But we discussed this extensively, and we decided it wouldn’t make sense to give the lead female part to a colt.” “I can recall at least three instances where you assigned male parts to fillies in the club, and nopony complained about that. How is this any different?” “I understand where you’re coming from, but keep in mind that our club has never had enough colts to play all the minor male parts, so we’ve had to take liberties there. The same simply doesn’t hold for the part you auditioned for.” Tears welled up in Rarity’s eyes. “Oh, I was so foolish,” he said, holding a hoof over his head. “I should have known I couldn’t do anything to even pretend to be a beautiful lady! Why must this happen to me?” “Hmm...” The judge held a hoof under her chin, thinking of what could cheer their star performer up. “Would it make you feel better if we put you in charge of the costumes for the play?” Rarity’s eyes went wide, and his mouth wider still. “REALLY???” “Yes, really. Your clubmates have told us you’ve got quite a way with sewing!” “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Rarity said, jumping around in circles. As much as he would have loved to snag the leading role for himself, designing dresses to let others shine was a far better consolation prize. “Oh! Also, if you want to keep dressing as and acting like a mare in our club meetings, you’re totally welcome to. We’ve noticed you’re a lot more lively and energetic that way!” Tears filled Rarity’s eyes again, this time tears of joy. “This is the best day of my life! And to think I had almost thought it would be the worst day of my life.” “Now don’t get too carried away, dear. You still will need to make the dresses as good as you can get them!” “Yes, yes, of course. But this is still the most splendid news E-VER!!!” He said the last word in a singsong tone. “I had to make the dresses for the play as good as can be, and I needed a fresh new environment to sew them in,” Rarity said as she cleaned her pans in the sink. “I found an abandoned dusty boutique, and since nopony else was using it, I refurbished it into the building we’re sitting in today! And then, well... you know what came next.” “You mean the story of how you got your cutie mark?” asked Sweetie Belle, wiping some blueberry sauce off her cheeks. “Indeed so.” “Well... hmm. I remember everypony would always tell me that getting your cutie mark matches with finding out who you’re meant to be. When you earned your mark, did you realize you were meant to be a mare?” Rarity chuckled. “Oh, Sweetie Belle. You know my special talent isn’t being a mare! Half of all ponies could do that. But... when I first joined the acting club, I did think my special talent was acting. Then I realized I merely wanted to present as a mare, regardless of whether it was on stage. One thing led to another, and before you know it, I fell headfirst into the delight of dressmaking.” “Maybe you were drawn to the acting club because you knew deep down you wanted to make some nice outfits for it? That’s how it often goes for foals who aren’t sure what they’re meant to do.” “It could well be! You and your Crusader friends are always brimming with the wildest theories about how cutie marks work.” Sweetie Belle grinned. “It’s what we do best!” “In any case,” Rarity continued, “to answer your prior question... it took me a few more years to learn that presenting as a mare day-to-day was an option, let alone the strenuous steps I’d need to take to do so. But by the time I earned my cutie mark, I knew in my heart that was who I was meant to be.”