//------------------------------//
// 5. Runway Star 
// Story: Exit Through Canterlot 
// by TheBrianJ 
//------------------------------//

The usually calm Neighburry Court had been transformed over the course of the day, and when the sun fell it once again became an epicenter of activity. A massive projection backdrop stood at the back of a long white runway which was lined with tables and chairs. Stylish white curtains had been draped over every storefront, and one couldn't walk five feet without seeing a sign proudly promoting Chic Trend's new winter lineup, featuring the most well-known model in all of Canterlot: Fleur de Lis. Ponies filtered into the area, dressed in their finest clothes and making small talk as waiters served hors d'oeuvres.

As she stood to one side and watched more ponies arriving, Octavia mulled over just how used to the sight she had become while living in Canterlot. It seemed to her like every other week, some area of Canterlot was taken over by a fashion designer displaying another round of stylish fabric. Previously, the only way Octavia could tolerate being at a fashion show was if she had her cello in hoof, playing as part of an ensemble somepony hired for the event. During those times, she wouldn't even pay attention to the show around her, instead becoming lost in her music. It was the first time she could remember having the chance to really pay attention to a fashion show. Exactly as she expected, all the ponies there seemed lost in their own little high-class worlds, their noses turned up as they sipped champagne and waited for the show to begin. 

Octavia started to back up into the nearest alley, but she stopped as she surveyed the scene. She couldn't quite put her hoof on it, but something seemed slightly amiss to her. She looked around at the scenery trying to place what was off—the elegant white drapes, the colorful display at the end of the runway, the streamers hanging from the edges of the buildings—but she just couldn't find exactly what she was looking for. Shrugging it off, Octavia backed up into the alley, and dropped the garbage bag she was carrying. She took a black duffel bag and disguise out of it and tossed the plastic bag away, then slipped on her mask and bandana before she threw the coat over herself. After she had put her disguise on, she unzipped the bag and looked over the multitude of cans and colors inside. Taking note of everything, she let out a sigh and muttered quietly to herself, her voice muffled by the face mask.

"Now what…"

She hated to admit it to herself, but there was no hiding it any more: she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do. There had been plans in her head for the banner, for Blueblood, and even the spur-of-the-moment vandalism of the statue of Celestia had a modicum of planning in the back of her head. But try as she might all day, she kept coming up blank for Chic Trend's show. Every idea that had crossed her mind she had second-guessed and thrown away. When she had gone to spray the Gala poster, she had hoped that inspiration would strike her, but no such luck had come. 

"Maybe I shouldn’t think and just do, like Vinyl keeps saying…" Octavia mumbled, zipping up the bag and slinging it back over her shoulder. She walked along the alley wall and carefully peered around the corner. Many of the ponies were just arriving, mingling, and others were rushing around, making last minute preparations. When Octavia noticed a large group arriving, she turned around and ducked back into the alley to avoid being seen. She sat still, her gaze shifting between her duffel bag and the ground. She looked back over her shoulder, focusing on the white drapes hanging everywhere.

"Maybe I could... no, that'd take too long," she said in a hushed tone, her eyes now wandering to one pony who was walking towards a table, clad in an elaborate tan and red dress covered in flowers. "I suppose the dresses themselves are out of the question." 

She again scanned the area, this time noting a large white wall several blocks away. “The wall of the flower shop is huge, but I want everypony to see what I'm doing," she mused quietly, sorting through the ideas that were still swirling through her mind. She looked over her shoulder at the flower shop in the distance. It was an absolutely ideal target: a blank canvas just begging to be filled. But doing so right now would put her far away from the actual show.

"Should I really be concerning myself with how visible my work is? What's important is I'm doing it for me," she said, then shook her head. "No, this entire thing is about being noticed. There'd be no point to coming to this show, then going all the way over to that wall..."

Octavia paused, looking back down at the duffel bag. She shook her head. "Vinyl's right; I'm overthinking this far too much. I need to stop considering, and just do whatever comes to mind,” she said with a sigh. “I just hope that something actually does come to mind."

Octavia nodded to herself, turned around... and found herself face-to-face with Chic Trend's personal assistant.


---


Not fifteen minutes earlier, Amethyst Star stood in front of the green statue of Princess Celestia. With ponies hurriedly setting up the show around her, there was noise and commotion from every direction, but it seemed so distant to her now. Her eyes were shimmering like a young foal on Hearth's Warming Eve as she stared at the word "ignorance" on Celestia's flank, and she tilted her head in curious disbelief. She was suddenly thrown out of her own thoughts when something large and soft landed on top of her, covering up her entire body and head.

"Amethyst!" Chic Trend yelled. "This is no time for daydreaming. The show is going to begin soon, and everything needs to be flawless. Now cover up that atrocious statue!"

Amethyst pulled the large, colorful blanket off of her body and looked back at her boss, who was already rushing behind the projection curtain. Rolling her eyes, her horn glowed and the blanket floated up into the air, above the statue. It hovered for several seconds before Amethyst finally let out a long sigh.

"Sorry about this," she said quietly, dropping the blanket and covering up the statue. Frowning, Amethyst turned and slowly trotted off, looking around at the runway setup that was nearing completion. She only focused on one aspect of the show for a few seconds before turning to something else, but the feeling that she had gotten from the statue was long gone. Looking to occupy her mind, she walked up to a group of ponies who were standing off to one side, and put on her brightest smile.

"Can I get you anything? Some champagne, maybe?" Amethyst asked. Three of the ponies momentarily glared at her, then went back to their conversation, completely ignoring her. Amethyst bit her lip in frustration, but the fourth pony, a blue-maned stallion, acknowledged her.

"No thank you, Miss," he said with a warm smile and a nod. Amethyst sheepishly returned the smile, backing up as the stallion returned to his friends, who all seemed rather annoyed. Despite the brief encounter, her smile lasted the entire way as she walked back towards the stage. She carefully stepped over the un-erected projection screen and looked towards a large group of clothes racks, seeing Chic Trend carefully attaching shining gems onto the sleeves of a stylish jumpsuit on a mannequin. Amethyst watched her work for a few moments, then averted her gaze for a second.

The smile on Amethyst’s face faltered, and she awkwardly trotted up to her boss. She stood still for a full minute, waiting for Chic Trend to notice her, but the fashionista was too absorbed in her work to pay any attention. Amethyst cleared her throat, to no avail, then gave up and said, "Miss Trend? Do you have a minute?"

Chic momentarily looked down at her, then went right back to the dress. "Make it quick, Amethyst."

Amethyst sighed, looking down at the ground. "I just wanted to thank you for the job. It's been really rewarding."

There was a pause before Chic turned to Amethyst, her head tilted to one side. "Is there a reason you're speaking in the past tense?"

Amethyst looked back up at Chic Trend, completely caught off guard by the question. "Miss Trend, today is my last day. You said the position only lasted for six months, remember? After tonight, I'm not interning for you any more. I reminded you last week!"

Chic blinked a few times, then turned back to the jumpsuit. "Amethyst, you can hardly expect me to remember a trifling little detail like that. But if tonight is your last night, then goodbye."

She continued to work on the outfit as Amethyst scuffed at the ground. "You're one of the most prolific fashion designers in all of Canterlot. I know we haven't seen eye to eye on everything, but working with you has helped me see that I want to pursue more creative works in my life. So thank you Miss Trend. It's been an honor to work with you."

"Yes, I'm sure it has," Chic muttered, reaching to the side and grabbing another ruby.

Amethyst could do nothing but gawk, slack-jawed. She waited, hoping that something more would be said, but after half a minute it became clear to her that she wasn't going to be looking down at her any time soon. With a sigh, Amethyst hung her head, muttered a thank-you, then turned around and started to walk back towards the runway. When she looked up to decide where to go next, her eyes settled on the large colorful blanket off in the distance that she had placed over the statue. While it covered most of it, a single green hoof poked out of the the edge of the blanket. Amethyst focused on the hoof for a few moments, and her head came back up, her eyes narrowing. With a quick jerk of her body, she swung around to face her former boss.

"Miss Trend, did you even hear a thing I said?"

Chic Trend froze, her eyes going wide as saucers. She slowly turned to look at Amethyst, who had walked right back up to her.

"I beg your pardon, Amethyst Star? Do not speak to me like that; I am your superior!"

"Considering today is my last day, I don't think that applies. Miss Trend, I've been working for you for six months, and you don't have anything to say? After everything I just said to you, all you can do is keep working on that dress? Have I really been that unimportant to you?"

Blinking a few times, Chic lowered the ruby down onto the table next to the jumpsuit, snorting in frustration, then she turned back to Amethyst. "Since we're being so honest here… Amethyst, you have been helpful to me. But it's not exactly the kind of ‘helpful’ that really stands out, you know?"

Amethyst was completely lost for words. She stared at Chic in shock, unable to form a complete sentence, instead just sputtering out, "W-what?"

"I mean, I’ve been asking you to do things like get coffee, take notes, and make simple stitches. While you have certainly done those things, they could have been done by anypony. Or, for that matter, a well-trained cockatrice. You're a nice pony, Amethyst, and I'm sure one day far in the future, you'll be able to break into the fashion industry. But you hardly stood out as an assistant," Chic calmly explained, looking back at the jumpsuit. "Let's put it this way… You shimmered a little bit, I suppose, but I was looking for a sparkler. I’m sure you understand."

Chic went right back to the jumpsuit, humming to herself. Amethyst felt as if an iron ball had just embedded itself in her stomach and her throat was burning. Dejected, she slowly turned around and walked away, her empty hoof steps reflecting how she was feeling. She started to look back to Chic Trend, but a pony pulled up the projection drape, blocking her view backstage. She stood there, staring blankly at the silhouettes behind it when a model trotted up to her.

"Have you seen Miss Trend anywhere?" she asked.

Amethyst looked up at her not recognizing the model, then just motioned her head towards the curtain and turned away. With a scoff, the pony walked off behind the curtain. Almost immediately, Amethyst heard Chic Trend nearly squeal, gushing over the model and showering her with attention. 

Her throat twisted into a knot and tightened, and an uncomfortable warmth was building behind her eyes as she stared at the projection drape and heard everything Chic was saying to the model. Amethyst looked away, only to spy a group of well-dressed ponies all staring at her, clearly noting her upset state. With eye rolls and scoffs, they went back to their conversation, leaving Amethyst feeling like she was completely alone. Her throat continued to burn as she walked as far as she could from the runway, leaning back against the wall of a building. 

"Are these really the ponies I have to deal with if I go into fashion design?" Amethyst muttered to herself, biting her lip in quiet desperation. "J-just unappreciative jerks? I-Is this what I even want to—"

She went quiet as her ears perked up, hearing a quiet voice coming from nearby. Looking around, Amethyst walked over to a small alleyway to her right, the voice becoming clearer as she neared.

"—top considering, and just do whatever comes to mind," said a pony. Amethyst slowly peeked around the corner and saw a single pony standing in the alley. All she could tell from the distance was that the pony was wearing a long black coat, and was just slinging a duffel bag over her back. "I just hope that something actually does come to mind," the pony continued to mutter. Amethyst's curiosity got the better of her and she approached.

At that moment, the pony quickly spun around, and Amethyst Star found herself face-to-face with Flanksy.


---


Octavia and Amethyst Star stared at each other, each too stunned to speak. Octavia recognized the pony immediately, but with her disguise on, she had no idea if Amethyst recognized her. She couldn't think of anything to say, nor did she want to say anything, so the tense silence continued until Amethyst broke it.

"You're Flanksy, aren't you?" she asked after some hesitation. Octavia slowly nodded her head, putting her duffel bag down on the ground. Amethyst looked over her shoulder, back at the runway, where more and more ponies were starting to gather. "You're going to go after Miss Trend's show, aren't you," She asked, and again Octavia nodded.

Amethyst sighed, turning back to the masked mare in front of her. "I mean, I suppose there's nothing I can do to stop you. But..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "If you don't mind me asking, what was your plan?"

Octavia paused. She didn't want to talk, still nervous that Amethyst would recognize her voice from the previous day. Instead, she slowly raised a hoof and pointed in the distance. Amethyst followed her hoof towards the wall of the flower shop.

"Huh. Cool," Amethyst said quietly, turning back to Octavia. "I bet if you go over there, a bunch of ponies are gonna break away from the show to watch you."

The sentence petered out into an awkward silence, as Amethyst scuffed at the ground. Octavia didn't know what to do, so she waited for Amethyst to start speaking again. When the moment didn't come, she slowly pulled the duffel bag back up and stepped around Amethyst. She had only made it a few steps when Amethyst panicked, closing her eyes tight.

"Ithinkwhatyou'redoingisamazing!!" she sputtered.

Octavia came to a halt upon hearing the rapid-fire words. She turned around to look at Amethyst, putting the bag down again as Amethyst opened one eye and looked back at her.

Amethyst sighed. "I'm sure you're not doing this for accolades, but I've never seen anything like this before," Amethyst continued, looking out at the show. "I've always wanted to do something creative with my life, and I guess I sorta settled into fashion because that's what Canterlot is all about, ya know? But the stuff you've done is totally new. Just those three pieces are so different, so fresh, so... so real! It's way more interesting than anything I've ever seen made out of cloth." Amethyst paused, then blushed a bit and dipped her head. "Sorry if I'm acting all weird, but I didn't think I would get a chance to meet you pony-to-pony. So, uh, yeah. This stuff you're doing is awesome, and I can't wait to see what you do next."

Octavia was unsure of how to respond. She had been complimented for her music plenty of times in the past, but never once at a level like this. Completely lost as to what she could possibly say or do, Octavia instead just nodded appreciatively, looked out of the alley. Almost everypony was standing around the runway by now, and a voice was announcing that the show would begin in about ten minutes. Octavia looked out towards the wall in the distance, when Amethyst spoke again.

"By the way, I'm really, really sorry that I had to cover up the statue,” Amethyst quietly said.

Octavia froze. It felt like somepony had just jabbed a knife straight into her heart and given it a twist. Wide-eyed, she looked back at the runway, and it finally clicked for her exactly what had felt off about the scene: the colorful blanket. It wasn't just a display; it had been draped over the still-green statue of Celestia. 

Her work had been censored.

Without even realizing it, Octavia began to quiver. She turned around, and Amethyst instinctively took a step backwards, stunned at the sudden anger radiating off of her. Octavia struggled to keep quiet, then took a step forward and thrust hoof back to point to the statue. Amethyst stepped further back, holding her hoof out.

"I-I'm so sorry! Miss Trend kept going on and on about how it was 'disgusting' and 'fake,' and she absolutely demanded I do it! It was my last day, and I was trying to do everything for her so she'd write me a recommendation!" she quickly said, before her face fell and she looked down at the ground. "Not that it mattered anyway…"

Octavia turned back to the runway, unable to take her eyes of the colorful tapestry that covered the statue. Her legs were buckling and her teeth were clenched behind her face mask. She instinctively reached down and unzipped her bag, wrapping her hoof around the first can of paint she felt. The wall of the flower shop was completely put out of her mind, and she scanned the area, looking for a wall closer to the runway, where everypony—especially Chic Trend—would be able to see it. Amethyst watched as her head shot back and forth, and she ended up looking at the scene as well. Her eyes fell on the large projection backdrop of the runway, and she stared at it for a few moments in silence.

"Um..." she quietly stammered. Octavia looked back at Amethyst, who was glancing around nervously, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

"So, uh, do you wanna know a secret? Not many ponies outside of the fashion industry know this..." Amethyst said quietly, her nervous expression being betrayed by her inability to hide a slight smirk. "All those drapes, the projection screen, and other stuff? Miss Trend doesn't own them. They're technically property of the city; she just borrows them. That means that they're under the same rights as the buildings or, say…" Amethyst paused, and the smirk on her face grew a little, "that statue."

Octavia stared at her, then turned back and looked at the projection backdrop. What was once just a white silk screen now seemed so very tantalizing to Octavia, practically beckoning for her. Gazing out over the ponies all sitting and waiting for the show to begin, all she could see was their over-elaborate, fancy clothing, and in the back of her mind, the inspiration she had been looking for finally struck. She dropped down and reached into her duffel bag, pulling out a single can of black paint and jamming it in her pocket. After zipping the bag back up and tossing it further into the alley, she turned to Amethyst and nodded. 

Amethyst couldn't see all of her face, but she just had a feeling that Flanksy was smiling. "Anyway, I should probably get going. I'm guessing you don't really want anypony to be watching you right now, plus Miss Trend wants me to read the introduction to the show," Amethyst said. "Good luck, and thanks again." She started to trot off, but halfway out of the alley, she paused and looked back for a moment.

"By the way, I love your coat!"

With a smile and a wave, Amethyst turned and walked back towards the runway. Octavia stood still; that last sentence had sounded familiar to her, and the lingering question remained as to whether Amethyst actually recognized her behind the mask. But the second she looked back at the projection screen, the question dissolved from her head and she reached into her pocket, wrapping her hoof around the can of paint. 

As the lights dimmed, Octavia ran along the wall, making sure she kept out of sight of the assembled ponies—not that they were paying attention to anything but the runway. She carefully snuck back until she could see behind the projection curtain, just in time to see Chic Trend ushering a group of models away from the screen and towards a curtained-off area on the side.

"In a few minutes the projector is going to turn on; I need all of you out of here!" she quietly hissed, just barely loud enough for Octavia to hear. "I'm not about to let this show be ruined by shadow puppets."

After she shooed all the ponies out of the area, Amethyst Star walked to the front of the runway to polite applause, a single spotlight lighting her and keeping the entire rest of the area in pitch black. A small stack of notecards floated next to her, and she awkwardly cleared her throat before reading from them.

"'Once in a century, a pony comes along willing to challenge the very paradigm of fashion itself. A pony who is able to steer the direction of convention into a new state of stylish transcendence. A pony who—'" Amethyst paused, flipping through the cards. "Yeesh, how many pages of this did she write..." she muttered, before surreptitiously flipping a few cards over and continuing. "'Chic Trend has dared to redefine the very idea of winter fashion with this line. By actively embracing the frigidness of winter rather than trying to fight it, Chic Trend has...'"

As Amethyst continued the long-winded introduction, Octavia snuck behind the projection screen. She stared up at the darkened screen, and with a wry smile, reached into her pocket and pulled out the can of spray paint. As she grabbed a small stool and put it in front of the screen, her heart started pounding and her breathing quickened. But unlike the anxiety she had felt the first night, her mind was perfectly calm and collected. With a smile, she stretched her hoof out and shook the can of spray paint.

"Now, let's see if I can remember how to write backwards..."


---


"'—Harkening back to the story of Hearth's Warming Eve, and how the ponies left behind survived the cold transition period with only the clothes on their backs.'" Amethyst had finally reached the last card Chic Trend had given her, and was fighting every urge in her body to not throw it down and storm off, but she maintained her best posture and continued. "Fillies and gentlecolts, it is my privilege and distinct honor to present to you the hottest fashionista in all of Canterlot: Miss Chic Trend.'"

The crowd erupted into applause as Chic Trend strutted out, her head held high. Amethyst walked by her and smiled, but she was utterly ignored as Trend passed her and posed in the center of the runway spotlight.

Chic loudly cleared her throat. "Icicles hanging off a frozen balcony. Trees, barren of their fruit and leaves. The frigid chill of a winter's blizzard. Typically, these images of winter make one want to bundle up beneath blankets and coats, but I have seen beyond the temperature to the potential. Tonight, I am proud to introduce to you my new line of dresses and outfits designed specifically for the pony who wants to look their best even on the coldest day of the year. I give to you my new line, SSZ: Style Sub-Zero."

With more applause, Chic walked to the side of the stage as several models walked out. Each one was outfitted with a different style dress, most of which featured patterns of snowflakes, ice, and other cold imagery. When five of them had lined up on the top of the runway, the lights all turned blue, and the projection screen lit up.

Chic watched from the side as the first pony strutted down the runway. She gazed out over the crowd, but raised an eyebrow when she noticed that many of the ponies didn't seem to be paying attention to the dresses. Some of them were mumbling to each other, others looked positively mortified, but most of them were pointing up at the projection screen. Confused, she took a few steps forward and turned to look at the screen, and a chill shot through her body the second she saw it.

The screen was showing a backdrop that she had set up of a snow-covered forest, snowflakes slowly floating down from the top and the trees gently swaying in the wind. But along the top half of the screen, three words had been painted on in black, jagged letters.

"FASHION IS FAKE"

Chic stood completely still, eyes wide in shock at the words as the fifth pony began her walk down the runway, the other four now awkwardly shifting their gaze between each other and the backdrop. She finally tore her terrified gaze away from the backdrop, over to the side of the stage, where two ponies were standing: Amethyst Star, who was staring at the letters with almost childlike wonder, and Fleur de Lis, who had her hoof over her mouth. 

"Fleur!" Chic whispered just barely loud enough to be heard over the music, rushing over to her star model. As she got close, she came to a halt as she stared at Fleur; she didn't have her hoof over her mouth in shock or embarrassment, but rather to stifle her giggling. "Fleur, I am so sorry for this. I have no idea what could have possibly happened here..."

Fleur made a motion to the corner of the screen. Chic followed Fleur's gesture, and was met with a large "F" painted in the corner. "Seems to me like Flanksy took it upon herself to make a statement tonight as well," Fleur said with a smile. A sudden swell in the music made Fleur stretch her neck out. "That's my cue, is it not?"

Upon hearing the name, Chic's face began to shake with rage. "That disgusting, vile... Fleur, let me turn the projector off, please don't—"

"Oh, don't worry Chic," Fleur calmly said, stepping forward. "It's rather harmless in the end. The show must go on, after all."

Before Chic could stop her, Fleur stepped onto the front of the main stage. Instantly, all eyes were on her as she turned around, looking up at the words painted on the screen. With a slight shrug and a smirk, she did a quick twirl, billowing the blue dress she wore out in all directions and flipping her hair back behind her head. Cameras started to flash as she confidently strutted down the runway, pausing to show off the dress and smile, looking back occasionally at the words on the screen.

Chic Trend was pacing back and forth, seething. "This cannot be happening. This cannot possibly be happening. I have been planning this for months, and some stuck-up wannabe artist decides to ruin it. If that Flanksy were here I swear I would tie one of these dresses around her neck and—" Chic stopped when she saw Amethyst now staring out into the audience, a smile on her face. "Just what are you so happy about, Amethyst?!" Chic said, getting right in the face of her assistant. With her smile only growing, Amethyst pointed forward, and Chic looked out into the crowd, her face falling even further once she saw what Amethyst was pointing to.

The rug that had been the center point of the end of the runway was now several yards away, laying bundled up against a wall. Now, the garish green statue of Celestia that Chic had wanted gone was displayed in all its glory for all to see. Chic slammed her mouth shut, her teeth pushing into each other hard enough to concern even the most competent dentist.

"Take a note, Amethyst," she seethed. "I want you to turn off the projector, cover the statue back up, and—"

"Sorry, Miss Trend," Amethyst chirped. "I, uh, don't work for you any more. Today was my last day, remember?"

Chic turned to look at Amethyst, stunned, as if she was hearing the information for the first time. "What?!"

Amethyst smiled and looked up at her former boss. "I just want to thank you for the experience in the industry for the past six months. I'll be honest, I dunno if I wanna keep pursuing fashion. But thanks for the experience! Good luck with the rest of the show tonight; seems like the crowd is into it."

With an innocent nod, Amethyst turned and happily trotted off. Chic stared after her, her jaw hanging open, then slowly turned back to the runway. Fleur de Lis was just leaving the runway as the next group of models walked from the back. The crowd applauded them, but their focus remained on the words scrawled against the backdrop.


---


"You did what?"

Vinyl Scratch had a grin on her face so wide it was threatening to split her head in half. She excitedly leaned forward in front of Octavia, who was playing a calming tune on her cello, her face relaxed in a content smile.

"Exactly how I described it, Vinyl."

"That's awesome! Boy, you're really embracing this, aren't you?"

Octavia blushed slightly. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"This is seriously, seriously cool, Tavi," Vinyl said, looking over at the disguise that hung in Octavia's closet. "So, did you get that feeling again? That peaceful one you were talking about?"

The music paused as Octavia looked over at her coat hanging up. "Actually, it was more than that, Vinyl. My heart was pounding, and yet I felt completely calm. It was like a…" Octavia stopped playing for a moment, thinking back to when she was first painting the words on the screen. "An adrenaline rush. To do something like this in front of such a crowd, on such a stage? I want to chase that feeling, Vinyl." She resumed playing, gazing almost longingly at the can of paint on sitting on her desk. "I'm thankful that that pony told me about the projection screen being owned by the city. That way, I could—"

"Wait, what pony?" Vinyl asked, her head tilted to one side. "You didn't mention anything about another pony."

"Oh, Chic Trend's personal assistant confronted me after I had put on my attire," Octavia replied. "She didn't exactly seem to be the biggest fan of Chic, though. She was the one who told me about the curtains. She also was quite complimentary to me, too. Apparently she thinks what I've been doing is amazing, and has stood out to her far more than anything fashion ever did."

Vinyl's smile somehow grew, and she leaned in close to Octavia. "Ooooooh... Looks like somepony's got a fangirl!"

"Hardly, she's just a fan."

Vinyl laughed, jumping back and forth on her hooves. "Flanksy has a faaaangirl, Flanksy has a faaaangirl!"

"Keep it up, and I'll start referring to your music as 'wubs.'"

Vinyl chuckled and stopped bouncing.  "Fine, let’s call it a truce. But still, Tavi, I hope you're really proud of that. There's somepony out there who has clearly been positively affected by your work. It sounds like she sees you as an inspiration!"

Octavia looked out the window, smiling a bit. "No, no. She's just an enthusiastic fan, that's all. I would scarcely believe that she's been inspired by anything I've done."


---


The door to a darkened apartment swung open, and Amethyst Star trotted inside carrying a large bag in her mouth. She set the bag down and her horn glowed, shooting out a beam of magic at two lanterns in the corner of her room. With the lanterns lit, the apartment was illuminated just enough to stave off complete darkness; many of the walls were covered in sketches of unique and colorful outfits, and several mannequins sporting half-finished dresses took up one corner of the room. A light-grey cat poked its head out from behind a couch, then walked up and did a figure-eight around the pony's front legs. Amethyst responded by crouching down and scratching behind the cat's ear.

"Hello, Phi," she said, smiling. "Sorry I'm late, I had to make a stop on the way home."

The cat wandered back to the couch and curled up on a pillow as Amethyst walked to the mannequins at the side of the room. She carefully pushed them aside, searching behind for something, then coming out of the area with a frown.

"Hmmmm, I could have sworn I still had it..." she mumbled, walking over to her closet and digging through it. "Ha! Found you!" she finally shouted, and her horn glowed once again. She trotted out of the closet with a smile, a large easel floating behind her. The easel unfolded and dropped down in front of a chair next to a doorway to a small balcony, and Amethyst sat down, blowing dust off of it.

"Gonna be up late tonight, Phi," Amethyst said as the bag floated up into the air, over towards her. "I kinda want to try something new, creatively speaking—not fashion related. I got hit with a strong dose of inspiration today, and I might end up getting rid of some of these dresses, so you won’t have as much string to play with. Sorry.”

The cat only responded by lazily pawing at the air, then resting her head back down on the pillow. Amethyst reached down into the bag and pulled out a white canvas, propping it up on the easel. She leaned back in her chair and stared at the canvas for a minute in silence, then closed her eyes. The first image that popped into her mind was one that she's pretty sure she's the only pony who saw: Flanksy tearing the blanket off of Celestia's statue. From her perspective, the garish green of the statue instead made Amethyst focus behind it, on the starry night sky of Canterlot. The contrast between that and the statue is what stood out to her; she had never seen such a dramatic disparity before, and the image had been stuck in her mind since she first saw it.

Opening her eyes again, Amethyst reached into the bag and pulled out a small can of dark blue paint along with a thin paint brush. She pried the can open and placed it on a nearby shelf, then looked out the window to the balcony, out at the clear Canterlot night sky. After a few moments, she dunked the brush into the can of paint, removing it and staring at it. It was nothing she hadn't seen before—she had done painting back in kindergarten and early schooling, but it looked completely new and wondrous to her tonight.

Slowly, she put the brush on the canvas. As she watched a few small droplets of blue splash off the sides of the brush and dot the canvas, she just stared at it with shimmering eyes. She couldn't explain it—she couldn't even find the right word for it—but staring at the dot, Amethyst felt something wash over her. It was a sense of belonging, of attachment; it was almost epiphanic.

With a smile on her face, Amethyst drew the first stroke against the canvas, leaving a path of navy blue that almost seemed to sparkle even in the darkened apartment.



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End of Chapter 5: Runway Star


Special Thanks: Xenia OnaProps, Worsty Galore, Plenty O'Raz, Mary WardeNight