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// The Perfect Colt - Sweetie Belle 
// Story: Gathering Rosebuds 
// by bookplayer 
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I walked home through the park after I left Scootaloo's house. She was so lucky. She was a mare now and I really, really wanted to be a mare. If I was a mare, I thought I'd probably be able to convince my mom to let me wear make-up and go on dates with colts, and maybe colts would even want to go on dates with me. I knew just which ones I'd want to go out with, too: Rumble, or Featherweight, or Shady Daze. I knew why I liked all of them, but my friends never wanted me to explain it.

As I was walking, I noticed some colts playing ball, and Rumble was there! I had to make sure he saw me, so I stopped to watch. He was so athletic, and such a good flyer, and really nice. I thought all of those would be good things in a very special somepony. 

I smiled at him a lot, but he didn't seem to notice me. I even tossed my mane, even though it was so poofy that it didn't really toss right. I wished I had a flowing mane like the mares in the books. Then I could toss it and it would catch in the light, and Rumble would fly right over and start talking to me. 

He'd tell me I looked pretty, no, stunning. He'd tell me I looked stunning and ask if he could walk me home. Then on the way, he'd pick me a flower and say it wasn't as pretty as me. Of course I'd say thank you, and he'd drape his wing over me and we'd get to Rarity's shop just as the sun was setting, and he'd give me a kiss on the cheek, because he's a gentlecolt.

“Hey, Sweetie Belle!” 

I looked up. He was talking to me! Rumble was talking to me! I blushed and looked down. “Um, hi Rumble. . .”

“Hey, could you kick our ball back?”

I blinked. Then I looked around, and saw the ball they were playing with was right next to me. That's all he wanted, his stupid ball. And he didn't even come over to me to get it.

I frowned, and kicked the ball hard. He caught it and smiled. “Nice kick!”

Argh! Colts! What was wrong with them? 

I turned and walked away like I didn't even care. Because I totally didn't. Rumble might be cute, but he wasn't a gentlecolt. Featherweight was cuter anyway. And smart. That was way more important than being athletic, he'd never just ask me to kick a dumb ball. He probably could write me poetry or something!

I thought about Featherweight the rest of the way home. 

I trotted in the door of the boutique, but Rarity wasn't in the front room. I called to her, “Rarity!”

“I'm in here, Sweetie Belle,” she called from her inspiration room. When I got there, she was leaning over her table drawing something, so I stayed back by the door so I wouldn't bother her.

“Rarity, it's way more important for a colt to be smart than athletic, right?”

“Everypony has different talents, dear. One isn't better than the other,” she said, not really looking up.

“I mean like, for a very special somepony. It's way more important that he's smart and thinks a lot and can write you poetry and doesn't just want you to kick some dumb ball. That's why I know that Featherweight is the colt for me. He's so smart, and he's quiet, and nice, and really cute!” 

I leaned against the doorframe. “I know this morning I said that I was totally into Rumble, but it turns out that Rumble is a jerk. . . He's at the bottom of my list now. I mean, not the entire list, I'd still rather have him for a special somepony than Snails or Truffle, but he's at the bottom of the list of colts I want to be my very special somepony.”

“Of course, Rumble has muscles,” I said, putting my hoof to my face and thinking. “All the stallions in the books have a lot of muscles. Maybe that's important. And Rumble did smile at me. Maybe he shouldn't be at the bottom of the list. Maybe he should be in the middle. I don't know. Which is more important? Poetry or muscles?”

“Sweetie Belle, I am trying to design something!” Rarity snapped, glancing back at me.

“What are you designing?” I asked.

“A chastity belt at this rate,” she sighed. “Why don't I go and make you some dinner? Then you could do your homework. Quietly.”


After dinner, I went upstairs to do my homework. But I didn't do my homework right away. First, I pulled out the book I had borrowed from Rarity that morning. She wouldn't mind as long as I got it back to her before she noticed. I curled up on my bed and started reading.

This one was called Crashing Waves and it was about the dashing pirate prince, Storm Thunder, and the beautiful unicorn maiden who ended up on his ship. They fell in love, of course, and I found the really good stuff on page 272. 

How could Apple Bloom and Scootaloo not think it sounded wonderful to have a handsome stallion kissing them and whispering about how beautiful they were? Not to mention the other stuff. I couldn't find anything bad about somepony making me 'moan with desperation in unparalleled passion,' even after I looked the words up in a dictionary.

I set the book down and sighed. Why weren't any of the colts at school like Storm Thunder? Why didn't they notice me? Why didn't I have a mane of flowing sapphire tresses? My life was so tragic. 

I just wished I had somepony who would say they loved me and they'd always be there for me. I had my friends, but I felt like I just got on their nerves sometimes. Neither of them wanted to talk about grown-up things like colts, they just wanted to run around and play. And then Scootaloo would be leaving at the end of the summer. 

I just thought that if I could find my perfect colt, it wouldn't matter as much if Scoot was at flight school or Apple Bloom had chores to do, because I'd have him. That made sense, if everything had to change because we were growing up, then being grown up meant that I could find a new kind of friend who would be with me forever.

And of the colts in my class, that would have to be Featherweight. Or Rumble. . .