//------------------------------// // The Headliner // Story: Diamond In The Rough // by Papillon Rose //------------------------------// Diamond In The Rough By: Papillon Rose Part One: Flawless Chapter 1: The Headliner It wasn't easy being perfect. Well, for other ponies. By her estimation Diamond Tiara managed it like a pro. The first rays of sunlight filtered through her lace-trimmed curtains, falling gently across her bed like a spotlight. With all the grace of a blooming flower, the tiny filly yawned, pushing her goose down comforter (specially designed with an accurate representation of her cutie mark embroidered in the dead center) back with her forehooves. Diamond Tiara sat up in bed, a sweet, innocent smile gracing her face. She then proceeded to scream at the top of her lungs, kicking her comforter onto the floor and sending her various plush pillows and stuffed toys flying in all directions. "SQUEAKY!!" Almost instantaneously her bedroom door burst open, revealing an extremely thin white unicorn mare with the majority of her light blue mane tucked beneath a maid's cap. Squeaky Clean had acclimated to her mistress' routine, and without further ado she went to work tidying the room. Diamond Tiara slipped out of bed with a sigh. "Did you draw my bath already?" she asked haughtily, glaring at the clearly anxious maid. Squeaky nodded vigorously, the purple aura of magic surrounding her horn bobbing up and down as she levitated the comforter onto the bed and straightened it. "Just drawn, with the lavender bubble bath and freshly dried towels just the way you like it." Squeaky looked proud of herself; a little too proud. Diamond Tiara grinned. "Squeaky, you know I hate lavender. Do it over, with the cherry blossom." Squeaky dropped the comforter with the high-pitched sound effect she was named for. "But last time you said-" "I know what I said," Diamond Tiara snapped, stamping her tiny hooves on the floor. "It's not my fault that you can't remember anything from day to day." Squeaky hung her head, defeated. "My apologies, young miss. It'll only take a minute." Diamond smirked as the maid darted out of the room. Lavender was her favorite scent, but sometimes those uppity unicorns really needed to be put in their place. ----------------------- "Morning Daddy!" A freshly dried, brushed, and hoof-shined Diamond Tiara descended the spiral staircase of the relatively lush mansion she shared with her father (and their various hired help, although they didn't really count.) Her diamond manepiece gleamed in light cast by the ornate light fixtures hanging above her head, and her clean, silky tail swished behind her with every step. All the world was a stage, and her name headed the playbill in gold lettering. Her father, Filthy Rich, was seated at the head of the table as usual, scanning a stack of paperwork while sipping at a cup of coffee being constantly refilled by another one of the maids, a light pink, alarmingly pretty unicorn mare who called herself Sugar Song. Sugar was new; she did not carry herself in the same anxiety-ridden manner that Squeaky Clean did. Far too many strands of her lovely deep pink mane strayed from beneath her cap, and she was smiling as she levitated the coffee pot. Filthy lifted his head and, horror of horrors, smiled back at her. "Thank you, Ms. Song." A light blush darkened the maid's cheeks. "You can call me Sugar, Mr. Rich." She glanced back at the trio of deep pink music notes printed on her hip. "I've never managed to make much use of the song part." Filthy looked as if he wished to continue the conversation, but Diamond Tiara had seen enough. "Daddy!" Filthy Rich turned his attention to his only daughter with the delighted expression he generally reserved for her and her alone. "Good morning, princess!" Diamond Tiara walked over to her father with slow, deliberate steps, briefly fixing Sugar Song with an evil glare before nuzzling him affectionately. Moments like this were strange for Diamond Tiara. Memories so old that they seemed yellowed at the edges like old photographs floated through her head: a tinier version of herself, nuzzling a face she couldn't remember. It always caused her heart rate to speed up, and something bitter would rise in her throat. She broke away, quickly returning to normal and remembering that she had a mission. "Daddy, do you remember that Princess Celestia doll with the actual unicorn hair mane and real gold plated accessories you got for me from Canterlot?" she asked innocently. Filthy stiffened. "Yes, honey, I remember that very expensive doll I had to commission...although nothing's too expensive for my little princess." Filthy's eyebrow twitched. "Please don't tell me you took it to school and some..." "Oh no, nothing like that!" Diamond laughed dismissively. "It's just...well..." She shuffled a forehoof guiltily against the carpet. "One of the maids washed her by accident, and her mane's brown now." Filthy sputtered, knocking over his teacup; Sugar Song gasped with disbelief. Diamond's charred little heart leapt for joy. "It's all my fault for leaving her out, Daddy, so please don't be mean to Squeaky and Sugar. They probably didn't know." When Filthy met Sugar Song's gaze once more all affability had vanished. Sugar took a step back, her eyes shimmering with tears. She hung her head as she commenced cleaning up the spilled coffee with a dishrag. "Don't worry, Diamond." He patted his daughter's head affectionately. "I'll order you a new one as soon as I can get in touch with toy store in Canterlot. And I'll make sure," he punctuated the word with a pointed glare in Sugar's direction, "To speak with the help so this doesn't happen again." "Oh, thank you, Daddy!" Diamond Tiara hugged her father briefly, inwardly snickering at Sugar Song sniffling as she left the dining room. "Can I have a Princess Luna, as well?" "Of course, sweetie!" "And..." Diamond Tiara continued to rattle off her wishlist while Filthy listened with rapt attention to her every desire. The dining room doors opened, parting for the family chef, a portly yellow coated fellow who went by the name Corn Cob, levitating their steaming hot breakfast over his head precariously. Life was sweet when you were the star of the show..