{ Pre-Chorus 2 }
I was grateful for the party Pinkie Pie threw for me and Rainbow Dash, but it started feeling awkward after a while. Not through any fault of her own—or any of the other girls, for that matter. It was because of me; because of the way I am.
For the first hour or so, I felt like an active participant. All the girls asked tons of questions about the band, how the tour went, what we were doing next, and I answered all of them to the best of my ability. It wasn’t right, but I’d started feeling resentful. Sure, being in a band was exciting, and they were all just trying to show their interest in what I was doing with my life, but I had just spent the last six months dealing with that life day in and day out. I wasn’t here to relive any of that. I was there to live the life I had with them.
At some point, Dash took over the conversation, and the girls focused on her. That was fine—Dash was on tour with me, and this party was just as much for me as it was for her. Besides, it gave me an excuse to slink away for a bit.
Still, it didn’t help how resentful I felt. After that was all said and done, I felt like I’d faded into the background. All the girls—even Twilight—were talking amongst each other. All except for me. Hardly anyone even seemed to notice I was there anymore. Try as I might to push the thoughts from my head, they just wouldn’t go away.
If nothing else, going unnoticed meant I could sneak in a cigarette before anyone knew I was gone. I’d been trying to avoid indulging my deadly habit, especially since it greatly upset Twilight. Unfortunately, touring stressed me out so much that I went from smoking once every week or so to several times a day. It wasn’t like I was chain-smoking, but any amount of this stuff was terrible for me, but knowing what it was doing to my mind and body wasn’t enough to stop me.
Stepping out onto the deck in Pinkie Pie’s backyard, I pulled the pack of cigarettes from my jacket pocket. Resting the filter on my lips, I grabbed the lighter from my pants pocket and lit it up, leaning forward onto the deck railing as I inhaled.
“And here I thought you gave that up after high school.” A voice spoke from behind.
“You spend six months on a bus with Rainbow Dash and see if you don’t come back looking to die a little faster,” I replied.
Rarity laughed, much louder than she anticipated by the hand that immediately clasped over her mouth. She approached the railing before leaning forward, her arms resting against it. “I suppose that’s hard to argue with.”
“So, what brings you out here?” I asked, already knowing the answer to my question.
“Actually, I came out here to ask you that very same question,” she replied.
“This,” I answered, taking a drag from my cigarette. “I was starting to get a headache.”
Rarity looked at me with a half-smile. “Now, darling. Just because we’ve not seen one another in a few months doesn’t mean I don’t know better than to take that answer at face value. That has never worked on me.”
“Perceptive as always,” I sarcastically remarked.
“As perceptive as you are stubborn,” she fired back. “Now, why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling?”
A mischievous grin spread across my face. “Like sh–”
“Don’t you dare!” she snapped. “Don’t give me that nonsense I know you’re about to. Tell me how you really feel, or so help me I’ll go in and tell Twilight you’re out here smoking.”
Her interjection gave me a hearty laugh. “She already knows,” I lied, “but fine, I’ll talk.”
Taking one last drag of my cigarette, I exhaled with a deep sigh. “Honestly, I’ve had a great time tonight, and I’ve been having a blast since I got back. I’m really happy to be with Twilight again, too.
“These last few days, I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time. That tour was a lot of fun, but it was also really rough. And… it’s kinda got me thinking about things, you know?”
Rarity’s smile faded into a look of concern. “What do you mean by that?”
I sighed. “This is really stupid, and I’ll probably be over it soon, but I’m just starting to wonder if this touring stuff is gonna ever feel worth it?”
Rarity looked shocked, but when she didn’t respond, I explained.
“When I first started touring, it was more fun than anything I’d ever done. Writing and recording music, traveling the country, getting to play night in and night out to dozens—eventually hundreds—of fans. It was always hard work, especially in the beginning when we barely had any fans and were lucky to break even, but it still felt so fulfilling. And since then, I’ve believed this is what I want to do forever.
“But every time I come back here, I feel like there’s another crack in that belief. It keeps getting harder to separate from here—from you, from Twilight, and the others too. And by the time the soreness in my body is finally gone, it’s time to leave again. Even though it’s only gotten more rewarding since we started, and it’ll probably get easier once we get bigger, I just wonder if that’s going to be enough by the time I get there.”
“If this tour is half as good as Rainbow Dash is exaggerating it was, I’m certain you’ll have a bigger crew during your next tour, would you not?”
“Yeah, but that’s just offloading one responsibility onto another group. We still have a lot of other stuff to do, so it just means the time we used to spend setting up will be spent being busy in other ways. The hours will still be long, the work will still be stressful, and I’ll have to spend even more time away from home.”
“At least you have a place near the studio, don’t you?” she asked.
I nodded. “I do, but it’s just that—a place. Since I moved away from Canterlot City, I realized it was the closest thing to a hometown I’ve ever had. It’s the only thing that feels like home.” An empty laugh fell from my lips. “So that’s what homesickness feels like.” My delivery was meant to be humorous, but I dropped it somewhere along the way, and silence fell between us in its wake. Until then, I hadn’t noticed the lump in my throat. I swallowed it down before tears could threaten to spill.
“Well,” Rarity began, “if that’s the case, what do you intend?”
Shrugging, I rested my head on my hand. “That’s the thing—what can I really do about it? Quitting makes me feel like I’m squandering a dream, and what if I do that and end up regretting it?
“But, at the same time, what good is living a dream if the ones I love can’t live it with me? I have a lot of fans, and I make decent money, but, even though we’ve only been going up on those two things, I’m beginning to wonder if it’ll ever be enough to actually feel worth it.”
Rarity frowned, spending a few moments contemplating a response. “Would you like my advice?” she asked.
“Shoot,” I affirmed.
“I certainly believe you when you say playing in a band is gratifying, but it looks and sounds like you should take a hiatus—if not that, consider moving on entirely.”
I let out a mirthless chuckle. “I look that bad, huh?”
“You don’t look bad, per se,” she began, “but, if I’m being sincere, when you arrived at the airport, I couldn’t help but notice the bags under your eyes. I hadn’t seen them look that heavy since we first became friends.”
That comment hit me in the gut, but I was determined not to show it.
“Beyond that, you being out here in this state—as well as your despondent attitude over these last several months—tells me a lot more than I know you’re willing to talk about.”
I furrowed my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, darling, think about it,” she began. “Our dear friend Pinkie has thrown this wonderful party on your behalf and all of our friends are here, yet here you are: standing outside, alone, struggling to take your mind off of things, instead of trying to enjoy yourself with all of us. You’ve—what—six days left? Over half of your stay remains. But you’re already trying to find a way to convince yourself to keep touring, and you’re bracing yourself to do it anyway if you can’t. It’s got you too preoccupied to live in the moment, and if you really valued your time here as much as you say, would you be spending it like this?”
Internally, I struggled not to cringe. Everything she said was true and I knew it. Still, I wasn’t going to show it, even if it meant the feeling had to echo through my body.
Rarity rolled her eyes at my lack of a response, but kept going regardless. “I hope you understand I don’t mean anything negative by this, but you want yourself to be wrong, and you want me to convince you that you’re wrong, but you aren’t. It’s not hard to tell that you’re absolutely miserable on the road.”
A blink, an exhale, an empty smile. “You’re doing great, Rare. Throw in some comments about how shitty I dressed tonight, too. I still got a little ego left.”
“You may make all the jokes you want, but your attempts at humor don’t fool me.”
My grin quickly faded as I felt my stomach hollow out.
“Sunset, you’re my best friend, but when you’re on the road, it sometimes doesn’t feel that way.”
I let out a deep sigh. It took a moment to sink in the right way, but even though I knew what she meant, all I could think of was how awful of a friend I was. As if this wasn’t a problem I was having with several of my other friends. As if I wasn’t already intimately aware of how far I’d fallen behind with almost everyone in my life. It felt terrible, but it also annoyed me. Instead of responding, I stared ahead, hoping she would get the hint, and we could stop this conversation before I found more reasons to feel bad, or worse.
“We get precious little time to talk to one another, but even when we do, you’re always so terse. Your life is a busy one and I fully understand that; and I don’t mean for this to sound selfish, but the fact that I rarely hear from you—even on your off days—only makes me worry.”
“Just because they’re off days doesn’t mean I’m going to be looking at my phone the whole time,” I argued. “As much as I’d love to be able to, I can’t please everyone.”
“Sunset, I’m not trying to guilt trip you, nor am I trying to turn this into an argument, but you’ve told me yourself you spend most of your off days either sleeping or laying in bed scrolling on your phone. And every time I can’t get a word from you, it’s the same thing: you’re too tired to have a conversation.”
“And? Do you think I’m lying about that?”
“No, but I want you to be honest with yourself.”
“About what?” I snapped.
“While you’ve been here, you’ve lived a life not unlike the one you lived before you and Rainbow Dash got signed to your label. Is this really much of a vacation, or is it a reprieve from what you feel trapped by? Is your time here resting truly that much more rewarding than touring, or are you still trying to convince yourself you’re not running yourself as ragged as you know you are?
“I don’t wish to put you on the spot, Sunset, but I’ve thought about this since last summer. While you were on the road, all you talked about was how excited you were for the tour to be over. You were here for a whole month—the longest amount of time you and Dash would have with us in two years, and for the first few weeks, you seemed so happy. But when it got closer to the end, it was easy to see how much you didn’t want to leave. And now I see the same thing happening now, but it’s happened so much faster. And I know that’s partially because you’re not here for as long, but the fact remains that you seem even less eager to return to the road than the last time you were here.”
Opening my mouth to respond, I quickly closed it. She was right, but I’d been trying so hard to tune her out that, in the moment, I’d convinced myself I wasn’t actually listening.
“Far be it from me to tell you what to do with your life, Sunset, but I do believe you should give some thought to whether or not this is the right thing for you. There’s so much else you can do, and there’s so much time left to figure out what you want.”
“I can’t do that,” I replied. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing—something that so many others would kill to be able to do. I’ve made it this far despite everything. I can’t just throw that all away because it makes me a little sad sometimes, especially when we’re probably about to hit it bigger than ever before.
“Besides, I don’t know if the band could make it without me. That might sound self-important, but I’m dead serious. Soarin barely knows how to mic his own drums, Gilda is always missing soundchecks and rehearsals because she’s sleeping off hangovers, and if I’m not there to babysit Dash it’s only a matter of time before she does something stupid enough to kill someone in a crowd.”
Rarity looked baffled at that last comment.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the video either?”
“What video?”
“…I don’t know if we have time to get into that right now.”
A brief shake of the head and raise of the eyebrows later, Rarity began again. “Well, uhm, regardless. You were blessed with a wonderful opportunity—one that many dream of, and few ever achieve. So far, you’ve made the best of it. But as nice as that is, just because you were given that opportunity doesn’t mean it’s the one for you. And while it may have been at one point, that doesn’t mean it will always be, either.
“Like the seasons, we all change with time, and as we do, so do our wants, desires and aspirations. And you owe it to no one to pretend that yours aren’t changing. We’re both still young, and what feels right to us today may not feel right tomorrow. We’ve all plenty of time to figure out all that out in the long term.”
Rarity gently grabbed my forearm, her expression firm. “I didn’t come out here to impose or discourage you, Sunset. This is your life we’re talking about. Even after tonight, whatever you choose to do—whether you take my words to heart or not—me and the rest of the girls will always be right behind you.” Her face quickly softened. “But I care about you deeply, and the only reason I would ever ask you to consider something like this is because I care too much about you not to say something. This may have made you happy at some point, but nothing lasts forever.”
My eyes wandered as my face looked for an expression to rest on. It felt bad, but this conversation needed to end. Calling upon a part of myself I hated to acknowledge, I looked Rarity in the eyes and smiled as I did.
“Thanks, Rare.” As I held out my arms, Rarity wasted no time pulling me into a tight hug.
“Of course, darling. I’m not asking you to make a decision now or any time soon, but I implore you to carefully consider all of what I’ve said tonight.” A few moments later, she pulled away, looking at me with a soft smile. “Now, I’m going to head back inside. I’m sure the girls will start worrying, assuming they aren’t already. So you’d best not dawdle.”
“I’ll be there in a few more minutes,” I replied. “If anyone asks, tell them I’m alright. I just need a little bit more time to think.”
Rarity let out a satisfied exhale. “See you inside, then.”
As the door shut behind her, my smile quickly deflated. As much as I appreciated her looking out for me, I felt even more drained after our conversation. She’d left me with a lot to think about, as if that was something I needed.
“Oh, and Sunset?” I turned to look at Rarity, standing by the backdoor. “Do leave your jacket at the door. Unless you want Twilight—and the rest of us—to know why you were really out here.”
As the door shut behind her, I lowered my neck to catch a whiff of my jacket. It always smelled a bit smoky since I wore it so much on tour, but now the scent was fresh. Slipping out of it, I headed back inside, ready to pretend like every word of that talk wasn’t buzzing in my head.