Rarity swept the money off the counter and into the coin chest, listening to it fall into the other coins with a satisfying clink. She looked back up and passed the stallion on the opposite side of the counter a stiff smile. “Will that be all?”
“Yeah, this is perfect. She’s gonna love this!”
Rarity very seriously doubted that. She knew his marefriend, Raindrops, much preferred simple, breezy skirts and spring colors. Not the pompous, frilly affair slung over his back. It was more suited to ballroom dances than anything else, and she also very seriously doubted Raindrops had any interest in attending a ballroom dance anytime in the near future. He would give it to her expecting her to be excited, and she would do her best to oblige him, while thinking behind her smile that it was an ugly, obtuse thing. But why ruin his mood by telling him?
“I’m sure,” she said, wincing as he grabbed the dress up inbetween dirty teeth.
He nodded, rushing out the door with a muffled thank you. The dress dragged along the ground behind him as he left.
“Have a nice day,” Rarity replied automatically.
With another customer gone, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Failing to think of anything better, she slumped against the counter and dully slid her hoof over the smooth countertop. She felt tired, like she’d spent the night before working late, as she often did, too worried that the inspiration would be lost if she stopped and resigned herself to sleep before she was finished. She could have restocked the front shelves, or organized her workroom, or tried to finish one of her older designs. But all she really wanted to do was go back to sleep. She couldn’t sleep though. There at the front desk she could distract herself with the occasional customer, at least. Back in her bedroom, she would be left alone with her thoughts, and she did not look forward to that.
“Hey, where do you want this?”
Rarity looked up. Twilight stood across from her, a stack of silken fabrics floating beside her. Rarity had forgotten her friend was in the room at all.
“Oh, just put it down anywhere, I suppose,” Rarity replied.
Twilight frowned and rested the fabric on the floor. “Rarity, are you feeling okay?”
Rarity snorted, an incredibly unladylike gesture, but she couldn’t help being amused by the question. “Not especially.”
Twilight’s frown deepened as she stepped closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not especially.” Rarity tapped her hoof on the counter. “I just don’t understand why she couldn’t have at least given me a chance. What harm could that have done?”
Twilight moved around the counter. She lifted a foreleg up as if to grab Rarity in a hug, but she hesitated, and then dropped it, offering her friend a smile instead. “I think she did what she thought was best for both of you, if that helps.”
“Right,” Rarity replied, returning her smile. “I’m sorry, Twilight. Really, all things considered, I’m not bad. I just need to keep myself busy. I think I’ll try to get some work done.”
She drifted back to her workroom, and Twilight trotted in beside her. Rarity frowned at the mess that welcomed her into the room. Failed designs on crumpled papers and forgotten bits of fabrics littered the floor, unused mannequins lay on their sides, and stacks of overused magazines lay open on her desks. She liked to tell her friends it was organized chaos, but really it was just the normal, messy sort of chaos. She always planned to clean it, but it was a plan she found easy to put off. Still, there was comfort in familiarity, even in the familiarity of disorder.
“I really can’t thank you enough for offering to help today,” she said to Twilight. “I’m sure you must be busy as well.”
“It’s the least I could do—” Twilight’s voice caught. “Oh wow, Rarity. This dress is beautiful,” she exclaimed, trotting up to a mannequin near the center of the room.
“Thank you,” Rarity said, warmth rising in her cheeks at the compliment. She moved beside Twilight and examined the dress. A tight, short bodice fitted around the mannequin’s chest, ending in a cascade of warm, golden waves that washed over its flanks. “It’s for the Duchess of Tall Tale. She ordered an ensemble for this year’s Autumn Harvest Festival.”
“She came all the way to Ponyville to order a dress?” Twilight asked, eyes widening.
“No,” Rarity replied with a small smirk. “She came all the way to Ponyville to order a dress from me.”
Twilight laughed. “Well, congratulations, Rarity. I’m really happy for you. So, is there anything else I can help with?”
“I suppose,” Rarity said, chewing on her cheek. “Do you think you could help me clean up in here?”
“Sure,” Twilight replied with a smile, looking down at the mess beneath her hooves.
They worked together in comfortable silence, Twilight gathering the stray fabric and paper together, and Rarity organizing them into neat piles. Soon, the workroom was looking cleaner than Rarity could last remember. A little part of her wanted to stop and spill the piles back over the room, as if she’d just let go of some personal thing she couldn’t get back.
After floating some stragglers out from behind one of the desks, Twilight cleared her throat loudly. “Hey, Rarity?”
“Yes?” Rarity said distractedly, busy ensuring each of her mannequins faced precisely the same direction. If she was going to order the disorder, she was going to do it right. No trace could remain.
“I need to apologize to you.”
“Hmm?” Rarity stopped to look at her friend. “Whatever for?”
Twilight swallowed, looking down at the ground. “The other night, when Applejack found out about—well, you know, I didn’t do anything to help. I just stood there. I’m really sorry. I was just... I don’t know, stunned.”
“Oh.” Rarity’s chest tightened at the mention of Applejack, just the name she’d been working to forget. For a time, at least, until she felt ready. “It’s fine. I’m sure we were all, eh, surprised.”
“And then I still didn’t do anything when you and Applejack left,” Twilight continued. “I thought you two might be better off working it out by yourselves. But maybe I could have done something to help. I’m really sorry, Rarity.”
Somehow, Rarity managed a smile. “Really, it’s fine. There’s isn’t anything more you could have done.” Rarity sighed, straightening another mannequin. “This was a long time coming, and I accept responsibility. I’m just glad it is behind me now instead of in front of me.”
“Well, I’m sorry all the same,” Twilight replied. “And I wanted to apologize for Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie too.”
“I think you have been spending a little too much time with Fluttershy,” Rarity said with a chuckle. “But what have Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie done that they can’t apologize for themselves?”
“No, I mean about the other night, when you, uh, locked yourself in your room.” Twilight smiled sheepishly and then frowned again. “I don’t think they meant to be, but they acted a little insensitive.”
“Oh? I hadn’t really noticed. My mind was... occupied with other matters.” Rarity frowned. “But I’m sure they were just trying to help in their own way.” She stood back to examine the mannequins. The light from the windows didn’t bounce off them quite as they should, she thought. Perhaps if they faced the other direction...
“I’m still sorry” Twilight said, joining her in realigning the mannequins. “I guess they thought it would work with you too. They did pretty much the same thing when we were with Sugar Sweet that night.”
The mannequin Rarity had been lifting fell clattering to the ground. She quickly pulled it back upright. Sugar Sweet’s name brought a very different kind of tightness to her chest.
She steadied herself on her hooves, hoping Twilight didn’t notice her slight blush. She realized with a start that it wasn’t just shame and guilt that quickened her heartbeat at the mention of Sugar Sweet, but a kind of excitement at the guilty, shameful memories that name brought to her mind.
She shook her head. After everything that had happened, her thoughts and feelings still blazed out of her control, galloping far ahead of her hooves.
But then again, she thought, Applejack had told her to find somepony who liked her for her. Sugar Sweet certainly fit that description, and Rarity had no desire to bear her nights alone any longer. If not Applejack then why not Sugar Sweet? Surely she could make as good a companion as anypony else. Or were her thoughts twisting themselves into knots again?
“Are you alright?”
Rarity looked up with a start to find Twilight staring at her. “Oh, uh...” Rarity made a pitiful attempt at a casual laugh. “I was just thinking.”
“What about? Anything I can help with?”
Rarity hesitated, but so many of her private thoughts had been revealed to her friends already, perhaps it no longer mattered. “You mentioned you spent some time with Sugar Sweet?”
“Yeah, with Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Why?”
“Well,” Rarity poked uncertainly at a nearby mannequin, “what did you think of her?”
Twilight shrugged. “I only really saw her for a little while, but she seemed friendly.”
“Oh?” Rarity did her best to appear inconspicuous, fully realizing she probably looked anything but as a result. “And what did you all do together?”
Twilight shrugged again. “Talked mostly. There were some donuts too.”
“And what did you talk about?”
“Uh, nothing really specific,” Twilight said, scratching her head. “Rainbow and Pinkie were joking around most of the time. Um, she told us why she first came to Ponyville.”
Rarity’s ears perked up. “She’s not not from Ponyville?”
“No.” Twilight passed her a puzzled look. “You spent all that time with her and you never knew where she was from?”
That gave Rarity pause. Sugar Sweet had spent all of their time together pretending to be somepony else. What else didn’t she know about her? “I guess I always simply assumed she was from Ponyville.”
Twilight glanced over her shoulder, looking to the window. “It’s getting late.” She turned back to Rarity. “Is there some reason you’re asking me about Sugar Sweet?”
Rarity grimaced. Leave it to Twilight to be so blunt. “Uh, no. I suppose not. You should probably head back to the library soon, or Spike’s going to start getting jealous.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Twilight replied with a chuckle, walking to the door.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Rarity said after a pause, following Twilight back.
“I’m sorry to leave so soon, Rarity,” Twilight said, stopping by the door. “You’re more than welcome to stay with us tonight, if you want.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, I’m sure I’ve taken up too much of your time as it is. Thank you again for your help.”
“I’m happy to help. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Rarity watched Twilight step outside, a growing knot coiling in her stomach. Dreadfully soon, she would be alone with her thoughts again, nothing to distract her from names like Applejack and Sugar Sweet. And more than that, she would be alone without either. “Wait!” she cried.
Twilight stopped mid step through the doorway. She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
Rarity cleared her throat to compose herself before continuing in a more normal tone, “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“Is something wrong?” Twilight asked after she’d walked back inside.
“Nothing is wrong. I just...” Her voice trailed off as she looked to the side, avoiding Twilight’s eyes. “I was thinking about Ap—Sugar Sweet.”
Rarity wasn’t sure what reaction she’d expected from her friend, but she didn’t get any. Twilight did not become angry, or disgusted, or even skeptical. “Okay, what about her?” was all she said in response.
What indeed, Rarity thought. “Well, I suppose I was thinking about apologizing to her.”
“Alright. I’m sure she would appreciate it.” Twilight smiled and scratched her head. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me though.”
Rarity bit her lip. “And I was thinking about doing something more.”
“Okay?” Twilight laughed. “You’re acting just like Spike when he’s skipped out on one of his chores.”
Rarity sighed. Twilight would make her say it out loud. “Something like ask her out to dinner, or something of that nature.”
Twilight’s smile fell, but not into a scowl. “You mean you want to ask her out on a date?”
“Well...” Rarity drew a hoof through her mane. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
After a long pause, Twilight replied, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Rarity.”
It was the exact response Rarity had anticipated, more or less, but she still could not stop the disappointed frown that spread over her face. “Why not?”
“Applejack—”
“Applejack does not decide whom I am and am not allowed to associate with,” Rarity said with a stamp of her hoof. “I’ll go to dinner with whomever I please.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Twilight said, raising her hoof. “But you shouldn’t ignore your friends’ feelings. It’s your decision, but you’re not the only pony it affects. Have you even thought about how Sugar Sweet might feel about this? You said you just rejected her yourself not two days ago.”
Rarity opened her mouth to tell Twilight she was being ridiculous, that of course Sugar Sweet would be happy. But her voice caught in her throat. She wanted to tell Twilight no, but she realized the truth was she hadn’t thought much about how Sugar Sweet would feel. She closed her mouth.
“What I mean is,” Twilight went on, “are you doing this because you want to be with Sugar Sweet, or is it just that you’ve been through alot this past week and you want... well, I’m really sorry if this sounds rude, but you want somepony to comfort you?”
“...No,” Rarity replied, feeling like a liar.
Twilight tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure? It isn’t a good idea to jump straight into a new relationship just after a breakup.”
Rarity snorted. “How would you know?” She winced. She hadn’t meant it to so sound so rude. “I’m sorry, but have you ever even been in a relationship before, Twilight?”
“Well, no,” Twilight admitted. “But I’ve studied the dynamics of romantic relationships. After all, in many cases it’s an extension or progression of a pre-existing friendship.”
Rarity had to screw her eyelids shut to keep from rolling her eyes and just barely managed to cut a laugh short in her throat. There was no reason to be mean. Twilight was only trying to help, however naive she might be.
“I think you’re experiencing what’s referred to as a rebound,” Twilight said, ignoring Rarity’s reaction. “Sometimes ponies almost immediately start a new relationship after a breakup to distract themselves from the emotional pain of ending the first one.”
“No,” Rarity said, looking Twilight in her eyes. “Sugar Sweet wants to be with me.”
Twilight held Rarity’s stare. “Maybe, but have you thought about how much you really know about her or what she wants? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you didn’t even know she wasn’t from Ponyville until tonight.”
“I—I’ve known her for months!” Rarity cried. Though even as she said it she wasn’t certain. Twilight, for all of her bookish naivete, was saying something that sounded awfully similar to good sense.
“I’m not trying to start an argument,” Twilight replied calmly. “I guess you were never technically in a relationship with Applejack, but it still seems too soon. I’m just saying that you need to be honest about why you really want to be with Sugar Sweet. Do you really like her, or are you just using her to distract yourself from Applejack? Do you just want to be with her because you’re lonely?”
Rarity remained silent. Once again, she wanted to tell Twilight no, but realized she honestly didn’t know for certain.
Twilight smiled. “I realize this has probably been hard for you. But I’ll be here for you, and so will the rest of your friends. Even Applejack. I think you should make up with Sugar Sweet, but I don’t think it would be fair to use her just to make dealing with not being with Applejack easier.”
“That’s... that’s not what I wanted to do,” Rarity said quietly.
“I know you didn’t,” Twilight said, wrapping a foreleg around Rarity’s withers in a quick hug. “I know you wouldn’t hurt somepony on purpose. Just think this through.”
Rarity sighed in defeat. “You’re right.”
“You don’t have to give up that easily.” Twilight said with a laugh. “I’m just saying you should think about the real reason you want to be with her. If you do want to start a real relationship with her, and you think that’ll make you both happy, then I say go for it.”
Rarity sat down on her haunches and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know, Twilight. I don’t know anymore. I used to have a plan, this was all supposed to go a certain way. And then Blueblood and then Applejack, and now I don’t know.”
Twilight shrugged. “Well, just don’t jump into anything too soon. Either way, I think an apology is a great idea. And I think Sugar Sweet is a pony worth getting to know.”
“Thank you,” Rarity said with a nod. “I suppose you should get back now.”
Twilight smiled. “No, I can stay as long as you need.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.”
Twilight hugged her close before turning back and opening the door again. “Well, just remember that you can come over anytime you want. See you tomorrow.” With a final wave goodbye she walked out and closed the door.
So Rarity sat alone by lines of hanging dresses and skirts. Her legs shivered. It wasn’t so much the aloneness that frightened her as it was the stillness of it. The dresses at her side didn’t sway with any passing draft. No one walked among the racks to admire her work or to simply pass the time. Opal didn’t saunter by, swatting at customers or loose threads of yarn. Everything in the room stood absolutely and dreadfully still. All Rarity heard was the sound of her own muted heartbeat.
She tried to keep her mind as still as her surroundings, and away from thoughts of pink and orange ponies. Zecora had offered to teach her the art of meditation once, to clear her mind of unruly thoughts. Rarity now desperately regretted not accepting. She walked back to the workroom, looking for anything to distract herself.
She stopped in front of the dress she’d fashioned for the Duchess. Applejack had modeled it for her. The farm pony had looked absolutely stunning. It would be a shame for anypony but her to wear it.
What did she want from Sugar Sweet? Or even Applejack? When she’d been a filly, she’d wanted somepony strong and handsome and cultured, a great stallion to save her from slobbering monsters and clever villains. Now, Rarity wasn’t sure. She simply wanted somepony to be with, to share her life and her work with, who she could care for and would care for her in return. Applejack, steadfast and sturdy as the trees she spent her life caring for, seemed perfect. But Applejack didn’t want her, wouldn’t even give her a chance. Sugar Sweet did, or had, but Rarity hadn’t even given her a chance. Everything thing had gone topsy turvy.
She looked back up at the dress. No, she realized, it hadn’t been Applejack who had modeled for her. It had been Sugar Sweet, her coat still blazing orange, who had looked so stunning. How many dresses had she modeled for her? It must have been dozens. Rarity badly wanted to see Sugar Sweet in the dress again, but in her natural colors. Would she still be so beautiful?
That was the only common thread to her roaming thoughts—Sugar Sweet. She wanted to see her, see her smile and hear her laugh.
Rarity shook her head. She picked the dress up in her magic, slipped it into a garment bag, and rested it flat across her back. Then she turned and walked out the front door. Somepony deserved an apology, at the very least.
__________________________________________________
Rarity enjoyed the feeling of her hooves falling on cobblestone, each step accompanied by a satisfying clap. Most of Ponyville’s streets were dirt, making it nigh impossible to keep one’s hooves clean. It was still a young town, lacking the development of even the smaller cities. But Rarity had grown fond of the little hamlet, dirt roads and all. It might be simple, but it could also be cozy and welcoming. Even so, she knew there was little in Ponyville that would be considered suitable for the gentility, that could compare to the glittering courts of Canterlot or the gleaming skyrises of Manehattan. But Ivory Street came close.
Here, cobblestone replaced dirt, and on either side of the street hummed the neat, spacious homes and apartments that housed Ponyville’s few truly wealthy. Rarity recognized a number of her customers in the groups she passed by, and, in spite of her best efforts, many of her customers recognized her. Most of her regulars lived on Ivory Street, and it seemed as if she walked by every one of them. A dozen different ponies stopped to greet her, share some bit of tedious gossip, and ask what she was doing in the neighborhood so late. Rarity smiled, pretended to listen, and replied that she was there on business, pointing to the dress slung over back and trotting away.
Any other night, she would have enjoyed meeting with Ponyville’s pseudo-aristocracy. But she’d spent most of the evening tracking down Sugar Sweet, carrying the cumbersome dress on her back all the way. She felt sweaty, hot, frustrated, and in dire need of a cool bath. She had quickly realized that she didn’t have the faintest idea where Sugar Sweet lived, and it didn’t seem like anypony else she asked did either.
Finally, she had given up and asked Pinkie Pie for directions and a Pinkie promise not to say a word to anyone else. Pinkie Pie knew the address of everypony who lived in Ponyville, as well as their birthday, favorite flavor of ice cream, and preferred breakfast cereal. In Sugar Sweet’s case it had been an apartment on Ivory Street, in precisely 47 days, strawberry, and Cheerioats. She’d been skeptical that Sugar Sweet could have lived in such a well-off neighborhood, but she had nowhere else to look.
Checking and rechecking the number by the door, Rarity walked up the steps to the apartment Pinkie had directed her to. Just when she reached a hoof out to knock, the door of the next apartment over opened.
An older mare walked out with at least a dozen fake pearl necklaces jingling together around her neck, as if believing the more necklaces she wore the more distinguished she would look. “Rarity!” she exclaimed. “Well, what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure? Is that a delivery?”
After a moment, Rarity recognized her as Voilet, a semi-frequent customer. She sighed and smiled. Ivory Street wasn’t Canterlot; Voilet was among the foolish few who pretended otherwise “Good evening. I’m actually here to see the unicorn who lives in this apartment. Do you know her?”
“Not really,” Voilet replied. “She is seldom home. She has been living here for some time, but I don’t believe I’ve seen her more than once or twice.”
“It is Sugar Sweet’s apartment though, is it not?”
“Is that her name?” Voilet asked with a snort. “She is a pretty little thing, but garish, loud, and none too bright. Just between you and me, I don’t believe she fits in here.”
Rarity felt her ears burn at the blunt description of Sugar Sweet, but she checked her tongue. She didn’t know what could compel a mare to saunter about in public covered in fake jewlery, but Voilet had made a sort of hobby out of it. Rarity doubted she realized how ridiculous she looked, and Rarity took some solace in that.
“Dear, a word of advice,” Voilet said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “It probably isn’t in your best interest to associate with that girl. I have heard some nasty rumors about her.”
Rarity shifted the dress on her back, silently praying to any god who might listen to hurry Voilet on her way. “What kind of rumors?”
“Well, they say she’s an escort.” Voilet shuddered. “I’ve heard she works for Miss Velvet, and everypony knows what it is she does for a living.”
Rarity’s ears burned like they were on fire. She turned away so Voilet wouldn’t see her flush. “Thank you,” she said quickly.
Voilet stepped back, smiling and raising her head. “I really must be going, but I will be sure to come by the Boutique tomorrow to see your newest work.”
“Of course,” Rarity replied, waiting until she was out of sight before turning to the door.
She knocked, and waited. She knocked again, but heard no sound from the other side of the door. She became anxious, tapping her hoof on the ground. She hadn’t called in advance. Sugar Sweet couldn’t have known she was coming, and Voilet had said she was rarely at home anyway. What a stupid waste this would all have been, she thought.
She knocked again, and the door opened.
“...Rarity?” Sugar Sweet asked, looking at Rarity as if she thought somepony had played a trick on her.
“Yes,” Rarity said with a wide smile. “How are you?”
Sugar Sweet paused, glancing over Rarity’s shoulder. “Uh, fine I guess. How’re you?”
“Doing better,” Rarity replied. “May I come in. There is something I’d like to speak to you about.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely!” Sugar Sweet said, brightening and jumping aside to let Rarity in.
“Your home is fabulous,” Rarity exclaimed after she’d walked in and looked around. Indeed, it was fabulous. Rarity suspected this one small apartment must have cost more than the whole of Carousel Boutique. It easily rivaled the best that Canterlot had to offer. A great stonework fireplace dominated one wall, elaborate woodwork spanned the ceiling and floor, and through a doorway towards the back Rarity spotted a bed that put her own to shame. And it all looked remarkably clean. If there was ever a home that could have been described as spotless, this was it.
“Yeah,” Sugar Sweet laughed. “Bet you can’t guess how jealous my dad would be if he knew, like, how nice my place was now.”
“I’m sure.” Rarity realized the apartment wasn’t just clean, it was barren. She didn’t see any furniture besides the bed, a sofa large enough for at least four ponies to sit on at once, and a cheap little folding table. The fireplace sat cold, and the couch stood empty. The only indication that anypony lived in the room at all was a stack of magazines resting on the floor. “Did you just move in recently?” she asked.
“Nah, I’ve been here pretty long. I just don’t really know what else to, like, put up on the walls and stuff. I was just eating,” Sugar Sweet said, pointing to a pitiful salad on the table. “Want some?”
“No thank you,” Rarity replied. She eyed the empty apartment, a queer contrast to the vibrant pony living within its walls. “Sugar Sweet, I came here to...” Rarity’s voice trailed away as she tried to decide why she had come. “Could we sit down?”
“Yeah, sure!” Sugar Sweet jumped on the sofa, bobbing up and down on its cushions. She waved Rarity over.
Rarity followed her, turning to sit down.
“Hey! No way,” Sugar Sweet protested. “No pony’s allowed to sit down on this couch without bouncing first.”
Rarity froze somewhere halfway between sitting and standing. Rarity cleared her throat stiffly. “Eh, no, I’m sorry. A lady does not, er, bounce.”
“You don’t have to be a lady all the time. Sometimes you can just, like, have fun, you know.”
Rarity snorted. “One can be a lady and still have fun.”
“I guess, but it’s not like there’s anypony here to see you if you stop being a lady for one second. Just me anyway.” Sugar Sweet awkwardly coughed and looked away. “Like, never mind. My couch, my rules. If you wanna sit you have to bounce. Or are you too scared?” she asked with a silly little smirk.
Rarity most certainly was not scared. Still, she looked around to make sure no pony else could see her first. She smiled and laid the garment bag on the ground. If Sugar Sweet wanted to see a bounce, she’d show her a bounce. Rarity backed up, taking a running start and leaping off her hooves. She crashed down hard onto the cushion, sending Sugar Sweet laughing into the air and sprawling over the sofa.
“How was that?” Rarity asked, giggling.
“Good,” Sugar Sweet answered quietly. She stayed on her stomach, facing away from Rarity, her laughter spent.
“Is something wrong?” Rarity asked.
“Um, I, uh, don’t think I’m, like, really supposed to see you as a client anymore,” Sugar Sweet responded, her voice muffled by the cushion. “You know, after what happened. I kind of forgot when I first saw you, but I’m not allowed anymore.”
“Well,” Rarity said, lightly poking Sugar Sweet in her side, “I’m not here as a client then.”
Sugar Sweet looked over her shoulder. “What are you here as then?”
“I’m here...” Rarity considered carefully. “I’m here as your friend.”
Sugar Sweet blinked, and then giggled. “Oh, yeah, that’s cool.” She sat up. “Yeah, that’s, like, really cool. What are you doing with that bag? Is it a dress?”
Rarity hesitated before floating the garment bag up onto the sofa. “Sugar Sweet, I came here to... to apologize.”
Sugar Sweet’s smiled dropped. “It’s okay—”
“No,” Rarity said shortly. “It’s not okay. I said terrible, horrible things to you. Things no pony should ever say to a friend. I really and truly am sorry. I’ve treated you unfairly, and you deserve better. I want you to have this.” She slid the Duchess’s dress out of the bag and floated it in front of Sugar Sweet. “I know I can’t make up for everything with a single dress, but I hope this will make for a good start.”
Sugar Sweet’s eyes went wide. “Rarity, you can’t give this to me.”
“It’s my dress,” Rarity replied. “I may give my dresses to whomever I please.”
Sugar Sweet frowned and poked at the dress, then she quickly drew her hoof back, as if she expected it to rear up and bite her. “You can’t give this to me. Isn’t this for some important pony?”
“You are an important pony,” Rarity replied. “I want you to have this.”
Sugar Sweet looked between Rarity and the dress. “R-really?”
Rarity nodded. “Yes, really.”
Hesitance gone, Sugar Sweet grabbed the dress and jumped off the sofa, swirling it in circles around herself. “Oh wow! Thank you so much! This is, like, the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen. Thank you, thank you!”
Rarity smiled. Correction: there was nothing she enjoyed so much as giving a gift to somepony she cared about. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, “that everypony deserves to be given a chance. And I never gave you that chance.”
Sugar Sweet stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. I’d like to give you that chance, to give you and me a chance.”
First, Sugar Sweet simply blinked, then she grinned and made as if to laugh and tackle Rarity in a hug, and then finally her smile vanished and her legs halted. She bit her lip. “Rarity, I don’t wanna... If you’re just gonna throw me away again...”
“I promise you I won’t,” Rarity said, the words tasting bitter. “I promise I’ll never let somepony get hurt like that again, especially you.”
Sugar Sweet grinned. And then she was upon her. Moving like a flash of lightning, she launched herself at Rarity, grabbing her in a hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” she cried, kissing Rarity on her snout and cheek and forehead. “I knew it, I knew it! I knew you loved me.”
Instead of the warmth she’d hoped for, all Rarity felt was an aching, lingering disappointment. She realized that beneath the orange coat and brown cowpony hat, Sugar Sweet was no knight in shining armor ready to save her from her demons, or singing nymph ready to whisk her away from all her troubles, but just another lonely mare.
“Wait,” Rarity said, holding a hoof up to stop her. “Wait. I’m so sorry. Twilight was right.”
“What?”
Rarity crawled out from beneath her. “I’m sorry. I’m so stupid,” she said, the words tumbling out. “Twilight was right. I don’t know you at all. I’m just making the same mistake all over again. I am so sorry.”
“What?” Sugar repeated, her eyes wide and confused. “What are you talking about? You don’t know me?”
“I don’t though,” Rarity said. “I don’t know where you’re from, or anything about your family, or why you came to Ponyville, or anything about you. We’re strangers.”
“What? I know you. We’re not strangers. Why would any of that matter anyway?” Sugar Sweet asked. “Like, what does any of that have to with being in love?”
Rarity sighed. “It does matter. How can two ponies be in love if they don’t even know each other? I am so sorry.”
The silence that followed stretched on for what Rarity was sure must have been weeks, waiting for Sugar Sweet to answer. She noticed a crack in the wall behind the sofa. She followed it down to a broken sewing machine on the floor, and saw a familiar cloak stuck in its needle. She glanced over at Sugar Sweet, imagining her, forsaken, crying, and angry, throwing the machine into the wall. Rarity felt a pang in her chest at the image. She had caused so much hurt, she considered leaving before she would cause anymore.
Beside her, Sugar Sweet frowned down at the dress, left lying forgotten on the floor, chewing her cheek. Rarity had just begun to stand up and say good bye when Sugar Sweet interrupted her.
“I’m from Fillydelphia,” she said quickly, not looking up. “My dad’s a stupid hypocrite, and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I was going to Los Pegasus to be a model, but I only had enough money to get to Ponyville. And, uh, my favorite color is purple. Is that good enough?” she asked, looking up. “I—like, I don’t see how any of that matters.”
“Then how did you become a... get into, er, your current line of work?” Rarity asked, sitting back down.
“There’s, like, not any modeling work in Ponyville at all,” Sugar Sweet said with a huff. “I just needed to make enough money to get to Los Pegasus. Uh, I met Miss Velvet pretty quick, and she gave me a place to stay. She told me she had a job that I would be really good at because I’m, like, really good at transformation magic.” She shrugged.
“You are,” Rarity agreed. “Where did you learn how to do that?”
“I don’t know.” Sugar Sweet shrugged again. “Nowhere, I guess. It’s just always kind of made sense to me.”
“So, you said you wanted to be a model?” Rarity asked.
“Oh, yeah. More than anything,” Sugar Sweet said, immediately perking up. “When I was little we used to put on these fashion shows behind our house. Every filly on our street would come. I never won, but they were really fun.”
Rarity laughed, remembering. “I used to do the same thing.”
“I bet you won though,” Sugar Sweet said, smiling.
“Well, yes.” Rarity smirked. “But only because I would ransack my mother’s closet and wear her dresses. Most of the other fillies didn’t have any. My mother would get angry, but I don’t think she was really upset. One day she told me that if wanted dresses I should just make my own, so she taught me how to knit and sew. Do you still have any interest in fashion shows?” she asked, moving closer. “I attend quite a few.”
“Definitely!” Sugar Sweet chirped, jumping off the sofa and running to the stack of magazines on the ground, grabbing a hoof-full. Rarity recognized them, the same fashion magazines she subscribed to herself. She suspected Sugar Sweet’s had seen far more use than hers though, the pages were folded and torn, and the binding nearly broken.
Sugar Sweet opened one, flipping back and forth through its pages. “Look at this one!” she said, pointing at an image of a mare standing by a waterfall and wearing a simple, airy skirt whose color matched the blue of the waterfall. “Isn’t she so super pretty?” Sugar Sweet asked, holding the magazine close to her muzzle, her eyes eager.
“She is,” Rarity said. “That’s one of Hourglass’s designs. I met him once. He told me the best dresses were an extension of the mare, and designers should avoid being overly decorative and showy. I can’t say that I agree, but I can’t argue with his results either.”
“Oh, cool! What about this one?” Sugar Sweet asked, turning the page and pointing to another picture.
“Hmm, I believe this is one of Tenor Trend’s. Do you see the way the hems are cut so they’re jagged and uneven?” she asked, pointing at the dress. “That’s very popular in Cloudsdale this season. Something about pegasi wanting to look wild and untamed while in flight.”
“Oh, wow,” Sugar Sweet murmured. “You know so much about these.”
“Well, it is what I do for a living,” Rarity replied with a smile.
Sugar Sweet nodded, but she kept staring down at the mare in the picture. “Wouldn’t it be so cool to be in one of these magazines? Like, everypony would see you and think how super pretty you were.”
“I suppose, but you don’t have to be in a magazine to be pretty,” Rarity said carefully. “Even so, I know some ponies. I’m sure I could speak with them and get you an interview.”
“Really? That’d be awesome!” Sugar Sweet’s smile dropped. “Oh wait, no, I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, thanks and that’s really nice, but I, like, want this to be something I did myself, you know? I wanna do it because I did it, not because I know somepony who knows somepony else.”
“I understand.” Rarity eyed the expensive apartment. “Wait, didn’t you say you were only staying in Ponyville to make enough money to go to Los Pegasus. Surely you have more than enough by now. If you still want to be a model, why haven’t you left?”
Sugar Sweet chuckled weakly, looking down and away. “Yeah, I mean, I do. But Miss Velvet said this was kind of like modeling anyway, and that I’m really good at it, and I’m making a lot of other ponies really happy.”
Rarity frowned. “Making other ponies happy is commendable, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your own.”
“I guess,” Sugar Sweet replied before smiling at Rarity again. “But I met somepony here that I, like, really, uh, like too.”
Rarity’s ears perked, ever ready to hear some gossip. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Uh.” Sugar Sweet laughed. “Duh.”
“Oh, right,” Rarity said with a giggle. “My apologies. But maybe there’s been somepony else?”
Sugar Sweet’s smile faded. “Oh, I don’t, like, really know anypony else.”
“What?” Rarity asked. “I can’t be the only pony you know.”
“I mean, I do know ponies,” Sugar Sweet said quickly, her face flushing. “It’s just, Miss Velvet says that our clients like privacy, so I’m not really supposed to be around anypony that they know. You know, so they don’t get upset. And Ponyville is really small, so pretty much everypony knows, like, everypony else.” She shrugged.
“You don’t mean that you don’t know anypony outside of your clients, do you?” Rarity asked, feeling more and more dismayed.
“I know ponies,” Sugar Sweet said, looking away and prodding at the sofa’s cushion. “Who cares?”
“I do,” Rarity replied slowly. “You’re not lonely, are you?”
“No. This is stupid!” Sugar Sweet said suddenly. “Rarity, this is stupid,” she repeated, looking her in the eyes. “I love you. What does any of this other stuff even matter?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. But—” Rarity hesitated. A familiar question caught halfway up her throat. If she hadn’t been willing to answer it, why should she expect anyone else to? “Do you just want to be with her because you’re lonely?” she murmured.
“What? No way!”
“Then why? You say you love me, but do you have any idea why?” Rarity asked, like an accusation.
“Yeah, I definitely know,” Sugar Sweet replied quickly, leaning close. “Maybe at first I was kind of lonely, and you were really nice to me. But that’s not it. Rarity, I love you because you see the something beautiful in everything and everypony. There are tons of ponies who never see anything beautiful in anything. It’s, like, they just walk around and only ever see the ugly, and maybe there’s a lot of ugly to see.”
Sugar Sweet sighed, slowly resting the side of her head against Rarity’s chest. Hesitantly, Rarity laid a hoof around her. It felt natural, like they were made to rest against each other.
“You’re, like, super special, Rarity,” Sugar Sweet said, not looking up. “You know most ponies probably look at your friend Applejack and think she’s, like, just some dumb country pony. But you saw something really great in her most ponies never could. I always thought, maybe, you saw something kind of great in me too, the way you talked to me.”
Rarity had to look away, her eyes stinging, wondering why she couldn’t answer that question so easily, not even if Applejack had asked her. More and more, she began to feel she didn’t know anything at all about love. But here a mare sat giving her a genuine affection that she now knew for certain she did not deserve.
She tilted her muzzle down and gently kissed Sugar Sweet’s forehead through her messy mane. “Thank you,” she said.
Sugar Sweet murmured something Rarity didn’t catch, pressing her cheek to Rarity’s coat.
Rarity tried to speak, but her voice choked. “What if,” she tried again, “I only wanted to be with you because I was lonely?”
“Uh, I guess, like, that would really, really suck.” Sugar Sweet turned and looked up at her, golden eyes trembling. “You don’t, right? That’s not why, right?”
“I—I honestly don’t know.” Rarity bit her lip. “I am so sorry.”
“Oh,” Sugar Sweet said. She turned back around.
Rarity closed her eyes. She wanted throw her own head against that wall, and then lie in forgotten pieces behind the sofa. FInally, a pony had told her they loved her. She had waited so long, and now she couldn’t say it herself. She opened her mouth to say something, she didn’t even know what. But then warm lips pushed against her own.
Rarity’s eyes shot open, her mouth hanging half open. Sugar Sweet wrapped one foreleg around her head and kissed her, fervent and beautiful, pouring feeling into Rarity’s mouth and down her throat. Rarity let her eyes drift shut again, her heart beating loud in her ears, her face burning. It felt just like she had always thought being kissed by somepony who loved her should.
Sugar Sweet pulled away. “What about that?” she asked, breath hot on Rarity’s mouth.
Rarity couldn’t find her voice, so she dragged Sugar Sweet back down, feeling delightfully vulgar.
“I don’t know,” she finally said, gasping for air. “Sugar Sweet, I don’t know anymore. I had a plan. It was supposed to happen somehow.”
Sugar Sweet leaned over her and kissed her again, just barely, just enough that Rarity wished for something more.
“Why can’t it happen like this?” she asked. “Like, who cares how two ponies get together? Who cares if you’re lonely? You said you came here to give me a chance. Then do it.”
Rarity took a breath. “Yes,” she said, smiling and seeing her and Sugar Sweet together, instead of Applejack, laughing and happy at one of Pinkie’s parties, dressed beautifully on a street in Canterlot, lying together in bed one morning long after they both should have been up.
“Yeah,” Sugar Sweet said, her eyes sparkling just like Rarity had always thought her lover’s eyes would.
They fell together on that great big couch, in a spacious den, of an expensive apartment by cobbled, well-lit streets. At the same time it was both exactly what Rarity had expected and nothing like it at all. She didn't know why it had happened this way, and she knew even less of what would happen to them both next. But she felt for the first time that maybe it would be okay if she didn't end up with the mare she'd expected to, and maybe it was okay if it didn't go according to any of her plans.