5: Rarity
Rarity stepped off the train at Canterlot. She was still wearing her wide black hat with a delicate lace veil, that covered her face. Despite the fact that her face was covered, she also wore large black sunglasses, and had put on a skirt, so that her cutie mark was covered as well. Nopony would recognize her.
She walked into the streets, carrying her heavy overnight bag, and she hailed a cab. She pulled out a piece of paper and handed the address to the driver. Then she sat back in her seat and sighed. She replayed the funeral in her mind. It had been tragic. So many ponies had shown up. And that was only the funeral for Ponyville. There was going to be another one in Canterlot.
In some ways, Rarity was very relieved her friend was gone. And she had no shame in saying that. Golden Pearl was a beautiful pony, who took advantage of other ponies because of her good looks and charm. While Rarity was just as beautiful and charming, she was the opposite—she would never do to ponies what Golden had done. Plus there were things that Golden knew that Rarity didn't want other ponies—especially her friends—to know. Things like where she was going right now.
Rarity had really wanted to go to Pinkie Pie's house. She came to realize that, although she was a very social pony and had many clients and acquaintances, she didn't have any friends. And when their friendship started to fall apart, Rarity realized just how lonely she was in Ponyville. But she had made a choice. A choice between potentially fulfilling her dreams or a choice between her friends. And she had chosen the former. And they could never know about it.
She knew that Rainbow Dash had reacquainted with Gilda and that she had another pegasus friend that she hung out with. Pinkie Pie visited her sisters, took care of the foals, and generally was always with somepony. Applejack rarely left her farm. Twilight had never needed friends in the first place, as long as she had her books. And Fluttershy... well, Fluttershy had vanished from the face of the earth and resurfaced a month or so ago.
It's not like Rarity had been spying on her former friends—spying was too tacky. No, she had merely been very observant. Mostly because whenever she went to Canterlot, she had to ensure that none of them were following her. Nopony in Ponyville knew her secret except for Golden Pearl. And now she was gone.
The cab stopped and Rarity paid him. She waited until it rounded the corner and then she walked across the street and down an alley. Rarity tentatively crossed the street again and approached a wealthy estate. She entered in the password for the gates to open and then she quickly stepped inside.
She took a deep breath and stiffly walked up to the grand doors of the estate. She rang on the bell three times and glanced around. She always felt like she was being watched when she came here. The door opened and the butler let her in.
"He's waiting in the lounge," the butler said.
"T-thank you," Rarity said. The butler nodded and took her bag upstairs. Rarity glanced at the clock and felt her legs go numb. She was late. She took another deep breath, tears already forming in her eyes. She then walked into the lounge.
"You're late."
Blueblood was sitting in front of the fireplace, a newspaper in his hooves, a glass of cider on the table. Rarity couldn't help but check the label of the bottle next to it. Thankfully it wasn't from Sweet Apple Acres.
"The train ran late," Rarity said, her voice in defense, "I was on time."
Blueblood rolled his eyes.
"What is that ridiculous thing you are wearing?" he asked. Rarity pulled off her hat and held it in her hooves. She loved this hat. She had worked really hard on it.
"I was at a funeral today," she said, "Don't you remember me telling you about it?"
"Was it a funeral for your fashion sense?" he snorted. Rarity took a deep breath and kept her tears at bay. She had a great fashion sense, the best in Ponyville.
"No," Rarity said. She had to stop herself from snapping. Sometimes he could be so insensitive... And by sometimes, she meant all the time. "It was for an old friend of mine."
"Well, if they were old, I'm not surprised they died," Blueblood said. He looked back down to his paper and took a sip of his cider.
"That's not what I—"
"Go make me a sandwich," he said, abruptly interrupting her.
Rarity stormed out of the room. She knew better than to argue back, knew it was useless to point out that not only did Blueblood have a butler, but he also had a chef. She made her way into the kitchen, grumbling to herself. She slammed her hat down on the counter, and nodded over at the chef. The chef sighed and brought out the sandwich supplies. Rarity then quickly slopped together something and made her way back to the parlor. Blueblood could tell when Rarity made the chef make it. And that never ended well.
Rarity roughly put the plate on the table and then turned to leave the room.
"Where are you going?" Blueblood asked.
"Going to take a shower," Rarity mumbled. Blueblood just shrugged and reached for his sandwich.
Rarity left the parlor and made her way up the stairs to her room. It was a beautiful room, ordained in pink and soft creams. It was twice the size of her room back home, and it had its own ensuite.
Her bag was already sitting neatly at the foot of her bed. She took off her skirt and neatly folded it, and placed it on the bed. She sighed as she realized she left her hat downstairs in the kitchen, but couldn't be bothered to go get it.
Rarity walked into her bathroom and turned on the hot water. She let it run for a minute, before she walked under the shower head and let the soothing water run over her. She watched as the water began to swirl in a mixture of whites, creating a milky color. A sob caught in her throat, as it always did when she showered, as it did whenever she saw her carefully painted makeup run off her body, and slowly expose the bruises and cuts that she hid from the world every day. The results of her abusive attempt to be royalty.