//------------------------------// // Mon coeur qui bat, pour qui, pourquoi? // Story: Outlet. // by Reptilicus //------------------------------// The next day found the building filled with a relatively larger crowd than normal. Marco's small gallery was considered a bit avant-garde for most. Applejack's paintings were perhaps the most normal pieces in context with everything else. Rebellious and strange was a complimentary definition for the majority of the things on display. Fish tanks full of bones, a giant glass sculpture of an eyeball, a disturbingly realistic giant plastic model of a sleeping filly, strange paintings of insects and birds, cross-section anatomical drawings, zoetropes, and a magically animated water fountain that sent bubbles in the shapes of polyhedrons floating through the air sat in one half of house. Self-sustaining enchanted record players which belted out disjointed midi tunes, a collection of griffon feathers made into a portrait of Princess Luna, paintings made of mud and blood, and a perfect recreation of the royal palace made of jellybeans sat in the other half. It was almost like a museum of oddities for anyone unfamiliar with the place. But this was how it always was and every few weeks it changed, with new odd ponies arriving bringing new odd art. Applejack's cute and breathtaking works were a breath of fresh air for the overall strange tone and had brought a curious crowd in need of seeing less-than-curious things. Marco had insisted that Applejack, Rarity, and Twilight stay as long as the works were on display. Many of the artists of the works within sat around talking with the ponies who had come to observe the art. And Rarity agreed with Marco's sentiment that it was good for the artist herself to mingle with the crowd and form connections. However as the day wore on, the strange questions began to wear on Applejack's patience. Twilight was always at her side quick to help her out of a social faux-pas if things began to get awkward. Rarity however, was dressed up in a bit of an odder getup then usual. Not one to usually wear clothes, like most ponies, she was in a jade green overcoat and beret, her purple locks done up in a loose bobtail bun, complete with a pair of dark green sunglasses perched on her snout. She was incognito. She was here to not be herself, and listen to the guests, ask them what they thought of the art, and overhear their conversations. Observation was key for deciding their next step. However this also meant she could not be seen socializing too much with Applejack, lest the mystery be broken and ponies realized she was in charge. As expected the overheard conversations were all mostly the same. Confused ponies, wondering why on earth such fine art was being housed with such a collection of abnormalities in this strange gallery. After being asked for the one-hundredth time if there was something 'unique' about her paintings that had allowed them the luxury of being in this strange place, Applejack had all but given up trying to be social. This was the exact sort of thing she disliked and was one the primary reasons she'd hidden the art away in the first place. Eventually she had started eating the small hors-d'oeuvres as thoughtfully as she could, hoping the act of eating would cease the unending classy conversations the visitors tried to have with her. Twilight began answering the questions instead and soon Applejack had found herself sitting alone in the corner of one of the rooms, idly listening to the radio, bored and wanting to go home. "Is it really that bad?" a familiar voice had asked, as Applejack's eyes began to droop, boredom becoming drowsiness. She turned to see Rarity standing in the doorframe, a look of concern on her face. "This is so borin' Rare. These ponies keep askin' me horrible questions about existentialism and post-modernism and other junk I don't know about. Then I look like an idiot cause I have no clue what that stuff is. And I don't care what it is either!" "Yes, Twilight told me you asked her to pretend to be you for the next few hours. She can't do your southern drawl very well but the hat certainly helps." Rarity gave a small giggle. Normally her high-pitched laughter could raise anyone's spirits, but Applejack found herself leaning against the wall again, resting her cheek on her hoof. "You seem more than just bored, Applejack. You seem rather distressed." Rarity took off her beret and sidled up next to her friend. "What's got you so glum, hm? We can leave if you really want." "Nah, it's not this place thats buggin' me. This place ain't helpin' much, though. All this creepy old stuff makes me feel like I stumbled into a witch's attic or somethin'." "Then what's wrong?" "I guess....I figured we'd get to hang out more on this here hijink." "Hang out? We do that all the time at home, Applejack." "Yeah but I mean you and me don't hang out much, Rare. Not like how I do with RainbowDash or nothin'. Just havin' fun n' such. Twilight's kinda brought us all together but it's only been a few seasons. We never get to spend time together in Ponyville. I'm always workin'. You're always workin'. Figured comin' to Canterlot might be fun if I gave it a chance and you were around to talk with. But it ain't and you're pretendin' to be someone else." "You're pretending to be someone else, too." Rarity said with a small wicked smirk. "Little Miss I'm-Not-Applejack." "Heh, yeah I guess I am." "Besides this is a business trip, dear. Not a vacation. We're here so you don't HAVE to work so much in Ponyville. So we CAN have more fun. All this mess will be worth it if I play the cards right." "Yeah, I know. And I do appreciate it, honest I do. Nopony else woulda done this sort o' thing for someone as stubborn as me. Most woulda given up after I told them to get off my property after losin' my cool. Most woulda put it out of their mind and found somethin' else to do I guess." Applejack leaned over and nuzzled Rarity's cheek affectionately causing the white unicorn to blush slightly. "Thanks for not givin' up on me, Rare." "You're very welcome, Applejack. Besides its the least I could do after you helped me figure out my sister. If it weren't for you my little family would probably be broken. So think of this as my way of paying you back for your advice and kindness to me. Besides you know why we don't hang out much. We always tend to get on each others nerves." "OK, I am officially sick and tired of these ponies." Twilight shouted as she stomped into the room, pulling Applejack's stetson off with her magic and roughly shoving it back into it's proper place on it's owner's head. "I have never heard so many misuses of the words 'juxtaposition' and 'inspirational' and 'composition' in my lifetime. And if one more pony asks me if AJ's painting of an apple pie is some of ironic relativist statement, I am going to start using that hex Celestia taught me that removes mouths from faces!" Twilight plopped herself to the floor next to other two, bags under her eyes from all the stress, and a grimace on her muzzle. Her lavender fuzzy chest heaving with exertion at all the talking she'd be doing and all the yelling she had just finished up with. "Well!" Rarity chirped, folding up her glasses and shoving them into her jade handbag. "I can see you're both having an awful time. So let's go do something fun, shall we?" "Like what? A bookstore?" Twilight asked. She'd never done many fun things when she had lived in Canterlot, preferring the library to enjoying the day in the sun. In fact, the very idea of fun was still a rather new concept for the bookish unicorn. One she felt she needed to research and dissect. "There is a little nightclub down the street I've had my eye on. It seems rather...well fancy like everything else around here. But it's a dance club so it MUST be more fun than being here, right?" "We won't have to talk about paint there, right?" Applejack asked, standing up and ready to get outside. "I'm so tired, Rarity." Twilight whined. "I'm not sure I can dance or socialize." "Oh, I'm sure you could once you've had a drink or two." Rarity made her way towards the door. "C'mon I'll pay for all three of us. It can be my treat for how rotten this trip has been so far." "Sounds good to me!" Applejack said with a grin following the other two out the door. ***************************************************************************************** Luckily for them, by the next night a far more distinguished and important curator had come into the Marco's shop and seen the few pieces of Applejack's that were hanging on the walls amidst the more abnormal modern art pieces. Immediately a deal was struck and a week later Rarity and Applejack soon found themselves displaying a large majority of Applejack's art in one of the lesser wings of the Canterlot Center for Modern Art and Performance. Or simply the "CCA" as many had taken to calling it, including the center itself which had large red pennon flags draped over the walls with the letters CCA woven into them in black colors trimmed with white. Half museum and half theater, the place took itself very seriously as a guardian for artists and their craft, funded by the royal family. Galleries, live performances, musicals, comedy shows, concerts, and educational conventions all took place every year at various times within the hallowed halls. The building had been given Celestia's blessing 99 years prior when it's foundations had been built. Now at it's 100th year, it was still looking its best and celebrating by having the best of the best on display in terms of both historical and contemporary art. Both Rarity and Applejack felt humbled to be included in the Center during such an important historical event. These were the big leagues. There was a lot of paperwork to be signed and forms to fill. Had Rarity not been there to supervise, Applejack felt she'd probably have hitched a train ride back home immediately. But a few inky hooves later and two found themselves sitting in the blissfully serene 'Rosedust Wing' of the modern art side of the museum, named after one of the original musicians who had helped found the Center a century ago. They weren't alone, however. The upper crust of pony society sauntered majestically through the halls, studying each piece and talking in very quiet faint conversations. It was oddly pleasant compared to the hot air and hustle and bustle of the more independent art houses. It was also a lot stuffier. Applejack couldn't help but grin at the way a lot of these ponies held themselves, their snouts pointed upward, looks of disdain plastered across their chiseled faces, all dressed in their best and most expensive outfits. Snobs, as Applejack would have referred to them. She had been given a small private area with a few luxurious chairs and a heated pot of tea to lounge in with Rarity. Part of the deal for any new artists who wanted to be on display was they must be present unless sick or injured. Not only for publicity but also to show the Center took itself seriously as an open platform and soapbox. It took a bit of goading, but Rarity had convinced Applejack, once again, to spend the day with her instead of just sitting around in the hotel room they had been sharing with Twilight Sparkle. Twilight was not in attendance, having finally broken off from the other two a week prior to visit her family and newly married brother. Which left Rarity and Applejack by themselves with little to do at their booth other than chat casually about the patrons who passed by. "You know, Applejack, they gave us this booth so you can talk to visitors feeling inspired by your work. Not so you can hide behind that curtain, doing crossword puzzles." "Just pretend yer me!" "They know I'm not you, there's a photo of you with the other artists at this show out at the main door now. None of these ponies know who I am and frankly I doubt they care. And I know they want to talk with you. It would be different if we all had nametags but we don't. They don't know who you are by name but they want to see you. Talk with you." "How do ya know that?" "Because they keep glancing over here with a forlorn look of longing. Wondering where the amazing artiste behind these paintings has disappeared off to." "Maybe they just like lookin' at yer pretty face, Rare." "That's the worst compliment I think I've ever received." "OH alright, fine. I already did all these puzzles anyhow." Begrudgingly Applejack sat out front with Rarity, immediately slouching over in her chair, resting her cheek on her hoof, looking as disinterested as possible. Rarity shook her head slightly with exasperation, not that this mood was entirely unexpected. Applejack could give a stubborn mule a run for it's money. "You could at least PRETEND you're happy to be here." "I am. Quite honored, actually. Just bored is all." "Well you won't be for long, here they come." A small crowd of ponies who had been hanging out in various parts of the wing immediately took notice of the earth mare who had appeared in her appointed booth. Eager to chat with an artist they'd never heard of, from a town many of them had never heard of. And the few that HAD heard of Ponyville would most likely have described it as an unrefined backwater town whose only claim to fame was having Twilight Sparkle, a member of the royals, living amongst its population. To think that such talent, such poise, from an earth pony of all things, had emerged from this quaint village out in the sticks was wondrous and fascinating. And now that she had finally revealed herself, hat and all, they swam in like hungry sharks to a delicate guppy. A guppy with a large floppy hat. "Rarity, I'm kinda freakin' out here. There's like....lots of these folks." "Just breathe slowly and don't feel intimidated. These are the sort of ponies who want to be fans of yours. They're here for you, darling. Bask in it." "What do I say if they ask me somethin'....like.....fancy? You know I'm no good with that." "Just do like we rehearsed. Improvise if you have to. Say as little as possible if it makes you feel more comfortable. Be honest, Applejack. It's what you're best at. Don't force yourself to be something you aren't for their sake." A line began to form. Aristocrats, hipsters, quiet normal ponies, writers, and a couple of newspaper reporters all diligently began to form up single file. With a careful wave of her hoof Rarity beckoned them to come in, quickly giving Applejack a small reassuring pat on the back. The first pony in the long line stepped forward, a tall black mare with a white mane, purple eyeshadow hidden behind her purple glasses. A red griffon-feather stole sitting elegantly around her neck. "Divine. These are absolutely divine." "Well thanks!" Applejack said with a grin. She wasn't entirely sure what divine meant but Rarity tended to use the word a lot when describing things she liked. "The polish, the professionalism, the raw emotion!" "Thanks? I often uh...apply great...uh reflection in my...portrayals of...stuff?" Applejack winced. It had sounded a lot better when Rarity had said it earlier. But then again she managed to make everything sound pretty. "Let me guess you got your B.F.A. from CU didn't you?" "Y....yes?" "Thought so, they always turn out the most elegant artists from there. Was there for two years, myself. The loans were barbaric. Oh, I just can't describe how much I love your pieces. The veduta is absolutely breathtaking." "......Yeah uh, thank you." Applejack shot a panicked look at Rarity, who was trying her best not to giggle at the conversation. "Thank you for bringing these scrumptious things to the museum miss...oh my gracious I never got your name!" "It's...uh, Applejack ma'am." "Apple....jack....?" the mare squinted her eyebrows slightly as if unsure whether the orange pony she was speaking with was pulling her leg or not. To her it seemed almost too....undignified to be a name. Rarity frowned slightly at her expression over the name. Time to cut this conversation short. "If you please, we have a rather long line to get to." Rarity said as politely as she could, motioning to the others. The mare nodded graciously and thanked Applejack for her presence before departing back into the gallery. "See now, that wasn't so bad now was it? I bet she'd buy prints of your work." "I have no idea what just happened. What in the world was that, Rarity? The heck is a print? Why'd she act all funny when she heard my name?" "Another alumni from CU, eh?" a gruff mustached pegasus stallion with an expensive camera around his neck asked, stepping forward. "Heard your convo with that last broad. Went to CU myself. Played on the varsity team." "Oh, so....CU is like some sort of...school?" Applejack asked. The stallion suddenly looked very confused. "Yes it is. One you....apparently did NOT graduate from I assume." "I'm gonna be honest with you here, mister. I don't know what a CU or a B.F.A even are." Rarity choked on her tea a bit as she heard these words. The stallion chuckled slightly. "It's a school and a sort of degree. Where are you from? I'm curious did you have any training at all?" "Ponyville. No, sir. This is just sorta like a hobby." "Ah, natural born talent. That's pretty special. A rarity these days." "Yeah she's right here." Rarity coughed slightly on her tea again. "No, dear, he means that your circumstances are uncommon." "Oh! Well shucks, thanks!" The stallion nodded quietly and gave the two a wink before he trotted off as well, eager to see the rest of the wing. The line began to move forward again as Applejack beamed at Rarity who was deciding if drinking tea during these short conversations was bad for her health. "That went a lot better than the last one. He was sorta nice." "Yes, it did." "Salutations ladies, I'm Sparks Steeplechaser from the Canterlot Community Columnist. Would you mind if I asked a few questions, Miss...uh....Applejack I believe?" A small gawky unicorn mare stood before Rarity and Applejack, eagerly whipping out a small notepad covered in writing and a pen and began to scribble furiously into it before anyone could say anything. "Uh...." Applejack turned to Rarity who nodded. "Sure if you want." "Oh good. Now I suppose my first question would be....do you consider yourself an iconoclast? A rebel?" "Do I incono myself a what now?" "No she does not." Rarity answered, already feeling uncomfortable in the presence of the small reporter who flipped a page and continued jotting notes. "So from what I've researched you've lived in Ponyville most of your life? Yes?" "Yes'm. Born n' raised." "And you're traditionally a rancher yes? Agriculture, gardening and such. Fruit farming. Not a fine artist?" "Y...yeah I help run an apple farm. I mean...we grow other stuff but apples is our specialty." Applejack smiled, tipping her hat. She was proud of the work her family did at Sweet Apple Acres, even if others didn't understand it. "I notice you paint apples a lot. Do you struggle with subject matter when it comes to your pieces?" "I don't struggle with much. I paint what I feel like." "Does it bother you to find yourself outclassed in one of the prestigious art institutions in Equestria?" "Well no, not really. Art ain't really my thing. You can ask Rarity here if ya don't believe me." "Do you feel guilt knowing that your anonymous amateur presence here may have shut out actual artists? Ones who have trained and studied for years to try to get to the sort of position you are in right now?" "Heh....uh I gotta admit this is a weird line of questioning." "Just answer, please." "Nope. I don't feel much of anything right now besides annoyance. What is this anyway?" "Would your parents approve of what you've done here?" "HEY NOW!" "These questions seem spectacularly rude." Rarity chimed in. "I simply feel that sponsors and supporters of the museum, who uphold it to certain standards, deserve to know where the art comes from is all. And that....miss AppleJACK....is why I put these articles in the paper." said Sparks with a small nod. "I know somewhere else you could put it." Applejack growled, rising to her hooves. A bead of sweat cascaded down the side of her face. "That's enough! If you want a proper interview you will have to schedule one." Rarity retorted, putting her arm in front of Applejack and pressing her friend back into her seat. "But don't bother because we will decline. Next, please!" The reporter pony frowned and scuttled off, leaving Rarity and Applejack sitting in an sort of awkward silence. "I'm sorry about that, Applejack. Didn't think something like THAT would happen. Some of the local rags always bring out the slander chiselers." "Ain't yer fault, Rare. Should of expected it I guess. Folks around here probably hate the idea of a farm pony bein' in their fancy art museum. Probably was a bad idea to come here after all. I don't really deserve it, I 'spose." "That's not true, Applejack!" cried Rarity with a frown. "You earned your place here as much as anyone else." "I don't like the way she said anonymous. It's weird these folks don't know my name. Maybe I should have signed my name on these paintings or something." "Ooh! Or you could start putting a sigil on your work." "Hmm?" "Like a symbol. Something that represents YOU without actually needing to put your signature on each piece. It keeps your full name private but also allows ponies to draw connections between your work, you see. Every time they see that symbol they will think to themselves 'ah hah! This is by that artist I like!'" "Oh! That sounds pretty dang clever, actually." "Yes it's a lot like having a pen name. Just like how the author of Daring Doo never signs her real name to the novels. Keeps an air of mystery about the pony in question." "I tried readin' one of them when Twilight recommended it. Kind of...a kiddy book ain't it?" "They're not exactly mature reading material but they're enjoyable enough. They're making a musical, you know." "Meh. Hey could ya get me another cup of tea, Rare? My mouth's awful dry." Rarity went behind the curtain, grabbed the heated thermos their tea had been steeping in, tilting it only for a few stray drops to leak from its spout. She shook it violently, hoping it wasn't already empty. Of course it was! With a small sigh she returned to her seat. Applejack watched her, expectantly. "We're out of tea." "Aw heck." "We can probably go out front and get some more later. We'll have to wait til after this line is gone, mind." "Naw, I can get it! Get away from this area for a bit. Relax some. My head feels like it's full of bees." "No, you need to stay in this booth. At least for a little while longer." "Well could you maybe get it and I can sort o' patrol the fort, here." "You'd be fine with me leaving you alone with these guests, Applejack?" "Sure thing. It wouldn't be for very long, right?" "Shouldn't be. Just...don't let any of the ponies here make you doubt our invitation." "If another pony tries to find a clever way of insultin' me I'll give em a piece of my mind. And maybe my right hoof." "Please, PLEASE don't say things like that. I can never tell if you're joking." "I ain't gonna punch someone, Rarity. Too nice for that. I'm gonna be fine." Rarity cast a concerned glance at the ever-lengthening line of Canterlot citizens who were demanding to meet the Applejack. It was going to be a long time before either of them got a real break from these fans. The majority of them looked rather disinterested, probably having visited the other artist booths and only paying respects here out of tradition. Applejack leaned back in her seat and gave Rarity a confident wink. With a small sigh the unicorn trotted out of the wing, her purple curls bouncing with each step. She dearly hoped her friend would be alright. Ponies in these upper-class towns tended to be a bit aggressive. Once they sensed any sort of weakness, they would pounce. Rarity herself only had so many connections here by feigning confidence and bending the truth as far as she could when she needed to. It had kept her from looking foolish, and had kept her fashionable clothing lines from ever losing their popularity amongst the elite. But it had taken a few failures for her to learn this lesson. Failures and some heartbreak, both things she dearly didn't want her friend to experience in her first and possibly only journey into the critical art world. Rarity felt in a way it was her job to not only ensure this venture was successful, but also as painless as possible for the both of them. She soon reached the refreshment room. A few small chefs were idly sitting around, cutting up vegetables and cleaning counters, the majority of their work for the day finished. Quite a few small trays of foods sat by, particularly some toasted carrot sandwiches that Rarity eyed hungrily. With a few kind words and a batting of her long lashes she soon found herself on the return trip to the wing, a plate of assorted sandwiches, a cup of potato soup and a small pot of tea resting on a tray she balanced delicately on her back. There were quite a few varieties of tea on display for the guests, staff, and artists. She made the assumption that her friend would probably prefer a tea that tasted somewhat of apples, deciding that perhaps a lighter fruitier tea would be refreshing in the somewhat humid building. She passed by the sign out front of the wing, featuring photos of the artists on display. Applejack looked so different from the others. Most of the ponies were thoroughbreds. Tall, slender, alluring for the most part. Raised in high-class families to be high-class patricians. Applejack stuck out like a honeycrisp amongst a barrel of ambrosia. Short, stocky, and unkempt with a steely glint in her large green eyes. She looked tough and tenacious, even when smiling for the camera. But under it all, Applejack was just cute. Her blond messy hair that fell into her round face, her pale freckles in her short orange fur, and her large floppy stetson hat that she often refused to let others touch. She could be beautiful, Rarity had thought, if she wanted to be. If she took better care of herself, groomed more often. But Applejack had no interest in looking good. She didn't need it to be successful. Rarity's train of thought was derailed as she noticed the line for Applejack's booth had grown ever longer. Worry began to weave its way into her thoughts when she noticed that several ponies seemed to be crowding around the desk, not taking head of the single-file line the other guests were following. Her worry only grew as she recognized the crowd as a group of wealthy aristocrats, which included two of the other artists who were using booths in the wing. She quickened her speed, her dainty cloven hooves clicking lightly on the marble floor as she quickly approached the desk, trying to overhear the conversation that was coming in over the laughter. "Well she's certainly no bumpkin. I like this one." said a voice. "Oh pish and posh. We could probably mold her a bit, you know. Teach her about the finer things in life." said another. "Rather substandard wouldn't you say?" said another as more voices began to chime in. "Some sort of miracle, this kind of talent in a pony of your...eh particular upbringing, miss." "Maybe she caught it, like a disease from those changelings. I hear they carry a lot of nasty stuff. Like bugs." "So curious. Last time we had a hick with this kind of flair with the brush was....oh bloody decades ago." "Do ponies still eat naturally grown apples? That seems so...unhealthy." "Clearly not. She seems healthy to me, eh miss? I kid, I kid. Having a laugh is all." "This hat seems ancient. Probably older than this museum, I'd wager." "Oh her accent is simply precious. Please, say 'y'all' again. It tickles me pink!" Rarity felt herself flush with anger. Whatever disjointed conversations were occurring in this whirlwind of sound and laughter sounded like the exact sort of thing she had hoped to avoid this trip. The exact sort of things she knew Applejack had been trying to avoid ever since she had discovered she loved to paint. She felt a small lump in her throat as she pushed her way through the crowd. Applejack was still slumped over in her chair, her hat was off and being clung very tightly at her chest, as if afraid it might be snatched away. A large fake smile was plastered on her orange face, her cheeks pink trying to seem pleased at the attention. Her eyes however told a different story, there was a deep hurt in them. The kind that only a friend could pick up on. They glistened with tears that were being blinked away as soon as they formed, afraid of letting strangers pick up on the grief she was feeling. With a rush Rarity had heaved Applejack out of her seat with her unicorn magic and had quickly sat her behind their curtain again, placing the tray of tea and sandwiches next to her friend as she turned towards the crowd, trying desperately not to let the hatred and rage that was broiling inside her make its way into her voice. Her brows shook as much as her voice as she addressed the crowd as politely and ladylike as she could. It took all of her strength not to reprimand them and start shouting. "I apologize to those of you here and those of you waiting but the time has come for the artist to take a break. The poor thing hasn't eaten all day and as her.....butler....I must attend to her needs which above all else come first. She will be back shortly. Please enjoy the rest of the museum, if you can." With a few mutters and sad sighs the crowd departed. Some left to check out the rest of the Center while a few stood idly by the booth a few feet away, waiting. They had little else to occupy their time with, more interested in the business of art then the beauty surrounding them. Rarity took a deep breath, and stepped behind the curtain, not sure what to say to her friend. But there was nobody there. The seat was unoccupied, save for the steaming pot of tea, crossword puzzles, and plate of sandwiches. Rarity panicked slightly, glancing around the room trying to see where Applejack had run off to. She clenched her teeth in fear when she noticed one of the emergency exits was now ajar and swinging closed. **************************************************************************************************** The darkened alley behind the art museum was rather well kept, as far as alleys go. Almost pristine really, as clean as the actual establishment it sat adjacent to. The pink and purple brick wall that framed the alley took a sharp right turn as it hit the street, becoming the gate house for a small residential area. This gave anyone who happened to be in the alley a gorgeous view of the streets as they rolled downwards, framed on either side by all the meticulously fancy buildings that dotted their sides. The sun was setting, casting long red shadows across the street, the gatehouse casting a particularly dark shadow that left the alley in a state of complete darkness. It was a good hiding spot. Applejack didn't move a muscle when she heard the door behind her creak cautiously open. She didn't avert her gaze from the sunset as she heard the quiet click of small hooves behind her. Nor did she cast a glance at her friend as the two sat together, staring out into the vast endless sky. The rays of light beaming through the pointed towers and steeples glistened across the tears that swam down the cheeks of the orange mare. It had been a long time since she'd felt this way. Her body shook as she tried and failed to hold in the sobs wracking her slouched form. "I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone, Applejack." "Nah, it's my fault." Applejack whispered, her voice hoarse from the sobbing. "I never should have come. Never should have left home again." "Again? This happened before?" "Kinda." "I'm sorry." "I'm an idiot, Rarity. Started feelin proud of my stupid hobby after all the nice things y'all had to say. Let myself think they were worth somethin'. Got full of myself." "They're worth a lot to us. You've done nothing wrong. There's nothing wrong with feeling proud." "Well, I shouldn't. That jerk at the Gala was right about me when he said my food was like carnival food. That's all I am ain't it? Just a carnie. A clown that everyone gets a laugh at. Everything about me is funny. My voice, my heritage, what I choose to do with my life. Me and my family are just stupid peasants." "Don't you dare say such things about yourself, Applejack. What you do and who you are is far more honorable than anything they can do. Your art is a reflection of yourself. It's beautiful because you are." "It's stupid. My daddy would be ashamed if he saw me like this. Chattin' with refined snobs like I'm one of them. Never learnin' my lesson from last time. Lettin' em make fun of me and treat me awful, just so they like me. I shoulda burned it all. I should burned all them paintings, Rare. Chopped em up and burned em and buried em. None of this would have happened if I'd listened to my own advice. But just like everyone else, I can't seem to take myself seriously because I'm so stupid." "You are not stupid, Applejack. Listen to me, you aren't. You're one of the wisest most loving ponies I know!" Rarity shouted, putting her arms around her friend and holding them close together. "We both know you wouldn't be happy destroying your art. Come here, shh shh shh." Applejack sniffled slightly, leaning her head into Rarity's chest, listening to her heartbeat as she sobbed. Having a friend to hold on to was certainly comforting, especially in a time like this. The two sat together as the sun set, rocking slightly. "You're so odd sometimes, Applejack." "How do ya figure?" "You're so...oh I don't know. Tough. Strong. When you and Rainbow roughhouse, I'm always scared you're going to hurt each other. I remember she gave you a black eye once and you thought it was funny. I've seen you get run over my a wagon and act like it was nothing. I've seen you do such amazingly powerful things with your strength. Kicking whole trees over, splitting boulders, exhausting yourself to the point of unconsciousness." "What's strange about that?" "It's just strange that, after all the pain you put yourself through just to be happy and keep your family happy, a little pain from those strangers was enough to well.....cause all this. I never thought you were so....sensitive about yourself, that is." "I try to not let that stuff bother me. It does though." "I'm so sorry, Applejack." Rarity rubbed her friends back, feeling the tide of tears begin to recede. "I'm not going to ask you to go back in there. You've been through enough today I think. We both have." Applejack wiped away her tears and sat up, grinning slightly. "Sorry I got ya all wet. Guess now I know how Pinkie Pie feels sometimes, wonderin' if the whole world is laughin' at her expense." "Yes, I suppose it is similar. Poor delirious little thing. I'm glad that Rainbow is around to help her with her...quirks." "Hm? What's that mean?" "Pinkie has....issues. Mental problems she tries to hide. She hears voices and talks to things. Hallucinates. Rainbow discovered her doing it once. Around the time of her last birthday." "Huh. Really? I knew she seemed kinda different but, shoot." "Yes, Rainbow told me all about it when I saw Pinkie talking to a rock by herself in the park. I think that's why those two are so close now. Pinkie had kept it a secret. Afraid of what we'd think. Then Rainbow found out and now Pinkie tells her everything. Tells her how her problems are, her feelings, secrets and such. Rainbow does the same for her. Confides in her. She's not nearly as brave as she pretends to be. Pinkie is so fragile and Rainbow is so protective. It works out well for them." "That's kinda cute. I never would of thought of Rainbow bein' that sympathetic towards someone. Guess that explains why I see the two of them sometimes just sittin' around starin' at the sky." "Everyone has a sympathetic side, Applejack." Rarity cooed as she brushed Applejack's mane out of her tear-stained face. "Even you, apparently." The two sat as the sun continued it's slow descent below the horizon line, finally disappearing, leaving the sky as a magenta ocean, dotted with small pinpricks of light. On the opposite side of the alley, Luna's moon began its slow ascent into the heavens, casting a calming blue light across the clouds, landscape, objects both near and far, cerulean beams peeking into the alleyway where the two friends sat. Applejack finally rose to her hooves, brushing her headgear off. "M'sorry you had to see me like this, Rare. Ain't right for me to be bawlin' out in the street like a lil' filly. Not at my age." "Nothing to be ashamed of, Applejack. Crying is good for the soul. I'm sorry this trip has been disastrous so far." "Yeah.... it's been....." she made a face. "Here's a solution, and a promise. From now on, I'll handle the business side of things entirely. If someone requests you make an appearance, we'll just find an excuse. And I'll try to find some more fun things for the two of us to do while we are here. Like that dance club." "I liked that place. Never thought I'd be a fan of techno-y music. But that stuff was great." "Fluttershy likes it too, you know. Keeps a whole collection of albums in her cottage." "I'll have to see if she can lend me some!" The two ponies exited the alleyway, making their way down the street, orange streetlights began flickering on as they pranced, becoming an array of orange fireflies scattered across the cityscape, blinking in unison. Two friends, one white and one orange, walked towards main street, where all the affordable restaurants sat. Now that the emotions were somewhat of out of the way, both had realized they were hungry. A particular place they had found and enjoyed was a small outside bar that make broccoli omelets that were considered by many as the best in the city. And it was a welcome distraction from such a stressful day. "Hey....uh, Rarity?" Applejack asked quietly as the two made their way down the cobblestone. Her face was very serious, almost worried as she stared at the ground. "Yes?" Rarity replied turning to her friend. "I'm uh...not sure if I'm ready to be all open and stuff about my life yet. I kinda like my privacy. But.... If one day I decided I wanted a real good friend to talk to...you know like about secrets and feelings and life and things. Could I trust you to understand me? Like the way Rainbow does for Pinkie, I guess?" Rarity's eyes went wide briefly at the proposal. With a small smile she nodded her head. "Of course you can." The two trotted side by side down the main street, passing through the crowds of hungry ponies as all the yellow lights from the eateries beamed across the road. There would be a grand amount of work to do in the morning. Explaining their disappearance from the museum in the middle of the day. Leaving the art booth unattended. Taking a perfectly good tray of sandwiches and tea and leaving them out. Using the emergency exit. Papers would have to signed, apologies given, and excuses made. But it didn't matter to either of them right now. They were just hanging out, as friends do, sharing a meal and chatting about things they both enjoyed. It didn't really matter how bad tomorrow turned out to be. Right now, in this moment, everything felt perfect.