//------------------------------// // 3rd Appointment // Story: Walk-ins Welcome // by Rego //------------------------------// My ears perked at the door chime. We’d only opened five minutes ago, so I figured it was pretty safe to say, “Good morning, Misty!” “Hello, Jazz.” My initial glee was short-lived. Something had happened again, I just knew it from the gloom dripping off her words. I leaned my head over from the hoof station seat and nearly tumbled out of my chair. The poor girl trudged through the doors, her head hanging so low that her mane dragged the floor. “Oh my hoofness!” I scrambled out of my seat. “Misty! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” “I-I know I just got a hooficure, but could I get another one, please?” “Another one? Didn’t you just have one a couple days ago? Why would you—” My eyes wandered down, and I forgot how to breathe. Her hooves, her precious hooves. They were hurt. Torn up. Ruined. Scratches ran from top to bottom, with only the odd, colorful stripes of hoof polish left behind. “I’m sorry about all your hard work,” she mumbled from the floor.  Focus, Jazz! Stop staring and help her! I bit the inside of my cheek to unfreeze myself and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Just please tell me you’re okay!” “I’m—I’m okay,” she repeated back to me. “That’s not…” I shrank back, kicking myself for my wording. “Come inside. Let’s take a look at those hooves.” I led her gently to my station and sat her down before hunting down every topical medicine that I could find. “Umm… Aren’t we supposed to start over there?” Misty asked, pointing to the magic mirrors. “Sorry. Nothing cute today. I need to make sure they're alright.” Her ears pinned back, crestfallen, but she nodded. Misty placed her forehooves on the cushion and she sank her disappointed frown behind her fetlocks. Over the past couple of months—wow, it really had been that long—she’d become somewhat of a regular around Mane Melody. Conditions had to be perfect for her to show up though: early morning on a day that I opened with no other ponies waiting outside for an appointment. The timid mare didn’t seem like she was one for crowds when she could help it. Outside of Sunny’s and Pipp’s group of friends, I really only saw her here at Mane Melody for regular hooficures. And she only wanted me to do them. I’d always chalked it up to Misty being “misty-fying,” but the more I got to know her—or at least tried to—the more suspicious I became. She was so sweet and cute, but she never talked about herself, always dodging questions or making excuses. That was going to stop today; right here, right now. I sat back down, carefully laying all of the medicine that I had and then motioned to give me her hooves. She shakily offered one, and I immediately began pouring over the damage. Something had scraped over her hooves, harshly, ripping polish off and aggravating the hoof wall underneath. There were microfractures and small tears everywhere, but it wasn't anything too serious. The inflammation would make trotting around uncomfortable. Still, that was little comfort seeing the exact same streaking pattern on each hoof. “Misty?” I asked pointedly. “Who did this to you?” “W-what?” “Look at your forehooves. The polish is smeared the same on each hoof, like literally the exact same here—” I leaned down and pointed to her hind ones. “—and down here.” Returning back to the top of the table, I leveled a stern frown at her and tried to keep my cool. “It’s got to be some sort of magic, right?” “Well, about that.” Misty smiled nervously and chuckled. “I-I was chasi—playing with Sparky! And I got burnt by dragon fire—” “Stop lying, Misty!” She flinched in fear at my shrieking voice. Like I’d ordered, she stopped talking immediately, not saying another word. I could feel the tremble of her hoof in mine. Honestly, I was too, barely keeping a lid on my anger. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry, okay?” Great job, Jazz. Such a way with words. I took another breath trying to steady myself. I cupped her hoof in my forehooves, keeping a firm and careful grip on it. “I’ve seen that baby dragon’s fire do some crazy things, but this is different. Somepony did this to you, Misty, and I don’t even know where to start with that because I don’t know anything about you!” Misty shook her head vigorously. “N-no. It’s okay. Really. You don’t have to do anything.” “But I want to! I want to help you! You’re one of the sweetest, kindest, most earnest ponies I know. I can’t imagine who in Equestria would want to do something like this to you.” I leaned forward, pulling her hoof towards my chest. “I’m not really any of those…” Her lips hung loose as she tried to continue, but something held her back. Misty slumped in her seat, trying to utter something, anything to what I said. “Is it somepony you can’t get away from in Bridlewood? You can stay with me at my place. It’s not big, but I’ve got an old guest bed. Just tell me what is going on, please!” There was a sparkle in Misty’s eyes. A quiet yearning, for what I didn’t know. Maybe there really was somepony behind that ever-present fear of hers. Maybe she wanted to tell me everything. Her mouth quivered, almost forming a smile. But as soon as the kindling had started, it flared out, crashing and burning any hope away. I almost pressed further, but then, she started to laugh. Misty always chuckled when her nerves were getting to her. A giggle, a snicker, a titter, but never a laugh. I watched it spread wider and louder on her face as her gaze grew more distant with sheer panic. Her wild laughter only served to fill the silence with something, anything less oppressive than nothing at all. She gasped for air under her choking glee with tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Misty?” “I don’t—” she gasped for air as her lungs forced another laugh. “I can’t—” Her chest puffed in and out rapidly trying to breathe through a barrage of hyperventilating giggles. I clamped my mouth shut with my hooves before I could audibly gasp. Was she having a panic attack? Was it my fault? I-I just wanted to help! Oh-my-gosh, what was I supposed to do? She’d wrapped herself up in her legs, trying to stop herself, and her eyes were cinched shut. I couldn’t just sit here. I needed to do something! I leapt up and ran to her side. I enveloped her in a hug, hoping it’d do something, anything to calm her down. So many words ran through my head, screaming at me to say them, but I was scared. I was just too scared. I held on tight, hoping to wring the fear out, hoping it’d be enough. It was all I could do. I’m so sorry, Misty. I’m a coward. “Jazz?” Air rushed back into my lungs again at the raspy sound of my name. I loosened my iron grip and backed away from Misty. She was breathing normally. Good. That was good. She leaned forward with concern. “Are you okay, Jazz?” “M-me?” Why was she asking me that? I coughed under my ragged breath. It was hard to stand, my legs were shaking so bad. Everything was wobbly. Why was I like this? Then, I caught myself in the mirror. Eyeliner ran down the side of puffy, red eyes. I sniffled my runny nose, finally realizing I’d been the one crying. I was an absolute mess. Misty, on the other hoof, was fine, besides the roughed up hooves, of course. I tried my best to dab my face dry with a tissue. “Thank hoofness, you’re alright.” “But Jazz—” “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I blew my nose and sat back down at the station. “I’m—” A hiccup cut me off and I dabbed my eyes again. Oh, ponyfeathers. That was the same tissue. Gross! But, whatever. That didn’t matter. Misty did. I shook it away, trying to steady myself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Stupid emotions trying to make this about me! I almost motioned for her to give me her hooves, but I’d been holding snot-coated tissues with them. This sucked. Misty looked away. “I’m sorry I scared you, Jazz.” Another apology. It stabbed my heart, wracking me with another wave of guilt. She must’ve noticed as she pulled further away from me. I felt so ugly. All of this fear, anger, sadness, guilt, and loathing was on me, yet I was still too shaken to do anything about it. I rinsed and dried my hooves in the basin and waved her closer to put her hooves back on the table. It was the least I could do. It was the only thing I could do. She smiled nervously as her eyes drifted to the clock. “Actually, I think I should probably leave so you can get ready for your appointments. I’ll just—” No! I couldn’t let her run away! Not like this! I sprinted for the front doors and locked them while flipping the welcome sign to “Closed.” It was selfish, it was stupid, I’d probably get a few angry calls, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t let Misty go. “Umm… Jazz? What are you doing?” If I tried to answer, I’d scream. I’d just scare her more on top of everything else. So, I walked back to the seat as best I could, uselessly blinked all the tears I could away, and sniffed all the yuck back through my nose. It was so gross. I was so gross. So disgusting. But, I couldn’t let her go. Not yet. I motioned for her hooves again. Without a word, she gave them to me again. Her poor, hurt hooves. I wanted to find the pony responsible and give them a head-to-hoof lesson in proper hoof maintenance. But, Misty wasn’t going to tell me anytime soon at this rate. Not with me freaking her out. So, I’d do the only thing I could to help right now: heal her hooves. I got to work, applying salves, gels, and creams to each hoof. Back and forth, up and down, careful strokes and massages; the rhythm helped calm me down a little. I was still a blubbery, sniffling mess of a mare trying her best. The stinging in my eyes didn’t help either, but it didn’t matter. I just wanted to help Misty. “Are you feeling better?” she asked carefully. I hummed a yes, still too afraid that I’d lose my temper if I opened my lips. Anger was reeling around inside me, wanting to escape in a tirade. “Are you sure? You look… really mad.” I nodded. “Myself.” “You’re mad at yourself?” She asked in alarm. “But why?” I kept blinking my heavy eyes, fanning them with my hooves to dry them. The stinging in my throat wasn’t helping either. “I-I want you to feel safe”—I choked back another sob—“here. With me. And I…” The words wrapped around my throat, forcing another bout of coughs and crying. “And I scared you. And then I got scared and then—I’m making this all about me. And you’re hurt! I’m so sorry, Misty!” For her part, she just stared back at me, unsure of what to say. The fanning and blinking weren’t doing anything, so I grabbed her hoof again and got back to work. Focusing on making her hoof beautiful again was the only thing keeping me together. I couldn’t even meet her eyes. I was too ashamed. “Please don’t feel bad,” I sputtered quickly. “It was my fault. You don’t need to tell me, even if I really can’t stand the thought of somepony being so cruel to hurt you.” I scowled at the marred remains of my work. “I can’t even risk cleaning the polish off when the surrounding skin is so swollen. So frustrating!” Misty licked her lips as she tried to think of something to say. I still had a lot of work to do, so I was in no rush. Of course, it was then that my phone decided to start ringing to remind me I should’ve been. Instead, I flipped the stupid thing open and put it on silent. Whoever it was on the other end wouldn’t give up, so I switched it to “Do Not Disturb” mode. I folded it back and threw it in my bag to ignore it for the next however long it’d take. After another internal fight played out on her face, the smallest smile turned up at the corner of Misty’s lips. “Thank you.”