Nighttime. It’s such a strange time of day isn’t it? To some it is the stuff of nightmares, where shadows and fear dance just beyond your reach and just outside your field of vision. To others, it calms that which is troubling, letting ponies of all kinds simply wander in a cool solitude.
To you, night was just a time. Why confuse things with ridiculous metaphors, right?
Your trek home from the theater was definitely one to admire, though. To wander in comforting silence in the lamp-lit streets of Manehattan, the buildings towering overhead, as if they were trying to reach Luna’s moon. It really was quite nice. You shivered slightly as a cold breeze rushes over you. You raise a wing to shield you from the gust. No matter how beautiful the city got, it was still cold.
You stop your steady walk as you come up to your flat. The building may not be as tall as those surrounding it, but it's still enough to dwarf even Cerberus. You climb up the stairwell to your own door, and slip in the key you keep in your saddlebags, a soft click emanating from the lock as it opens.
Your flat certainly isn't over decorated, a few wooden furnishings here, a table there, TV in the back, just enough for you to live comfortably. Of course, the one thing that does stand out is the large upright piano that sits in the corner, mountains of sheet music piled atop it. You had found the sheets to literally anything you could think of to play and taught yourself how in usually only a week or so.
Approaching the instrument, you sit yourself on the red-leather seat and place your hooves to the keys. What comes out is a very basic melody, essentially a series of two-note chords followed by a small three note scale in the key of C that descends one note each time. You continue this pattern til you reach a full octave and then began a slow verse of simple third interval chords, and returned to the original theme occasionally, it was a fairly basic pattern, but one you had created yourself and you were very proud of.
Your song ended with a strong perfect fourth that fades out into silence. Sighing softly in content you walk over to your couch, a blanket and pillow waiting for you. Laying down, you pull the blanket over your body, pulling your wings in tight against your back. You lay your head against the cushiony pillow, pleasant and warm.
And then your mind wanders. It isn't anything out of the ordinary, simply thinking about the various things that had happened that day. You got Octavia to admit her feelings for Vinyl (now you just have to get her to admit them to her), the newest play had gone off without a hitch, you got to tease Lyra for a solid thirty minutes. Yup, overall it was a pretty damn good day.
And then, you think of her. You aren't sure why, but it seemed the part of the day that stuck out the most to you was your time with Coco. She seemed very nice, if quite shy. The two of you had traded small talk while working, it turns out she was relatively new to the stage. She had only been working since the show that you had just finished today. You smiled as you reminisced the time you shared with her, a new friend.
Friend…hmm, maybe that was still a little too strong, it had only been one day, right? But, a potential friend, and that was enough. Snuggling the covers closer to your body, the thoughts of starting the new play tomorrow and working with Coco more keeping you nice and content. You slowly fade into sleep…
The next day at the theater is quite exciting. It seems as if more ponies than usual were present, all of them scrambling in every direction. With all the excitement, you're quite glad that your job requires you to do no more than sit in front of your instrument, awaiting directions.
“Everypony! Please, listen up!” calls the head director, Hamlet, who stands atop a chair so that his voice can be heard better. His red coat and long yellow mane make him easily recognizable, that and the brownish directors cap atop his head. A joyous smile is spread across his muzzle. “Now I know we’re all excited about the new play starting up, so I need you all to remain as calm as possible while we pass out the scripts. Musicians: I need you all to gather on the left side to be given your sheet music. Actors: your roles are posted on the boards. Alright everypony, let’s get to work!”
Your music was already on your piano, so you figure you may as well see the list of actors, there was a certain mare that you heard was trying out for a role. You can't quite get up to the board to see the list of actors, trying to shove your way past the large group of ponies that separated you from your goal. All around there are shouts.
“YES! I got an acting role!”
“I get to sing, COOL!”
“Oh…I’m just an extra…I’m still on Bridleway! WOO!”
It seems as if no one in the crowd was angry, just excited to be shown on the famous stage, truly an amazing experience, but one shout suddenly explodes from the front:
“YEEEEAH!!!!!!! LEAD ROLE!! YESYESYESYESYESYESYES!!”
You chuckle to yourself, you recognize that voice.
The mint green mare you expected to see comes strutting out, having her own little dance party. You walk up to her and stand still, waiting for her to calm herself down. She stands on two legs, pumping her forehooves and constantly shouting the words “yes”, “woo” and “I got it”.
Eventually, you decide that this had gone on for long enough, so you give her head a quick knock with your hoof (not enough to cause a bruise but enough to make your point).
“Ow,” she lands on her forehooves and starts rubbing her head. You barely have time to laugh before you felt a jab to your left side. The pain was bearable, but jeez!
"You know, that really hurts sometimes, Lyra," you complain in mock hurt.
"Oh, toughen up, would you? Besides, you started it," she rubs her head to emphasize her point.
"Well maybe you shouldn't be the one jumping around like a little filly," you reply with a smug grin.
"I just got the lead role on Bridleway! I think I'm entitled to a celebration!" The unicorn was starting to lean towards the defensive.
"And with that I'm allowed to knock some sense into you," you counter.
"You're never given that right, you brute!"
"Brute?! Excuse me, but I am one of Equestria's last remaining true gentlecolts!"
"As proven by your beating of a mares."
"I don't hit mares, Lyra, I hit you."
"And that makes it okay?!"
"Oh, what do you care?! Shut up and enjoy your lead role, would you?!"
"Oh, so suddenly you care about that?"
"No, but you seem to."
"Oh you're probably just jealous you didn't get a role at all!!"
"That's probably cause I didn't audition! I don't CARE!!" you start to glare at her.
"If you don't care why are you SHOUTING?!" Lyra presses her forehead to your's, her golden eyes scowling at you with just as much intensity.
"Why are you so OBNOXIOUS?!?"
"Why are you so STOOPID?!"
"AT LEAST I CAN SPELL THE WORD STUPID!!"
"YOU CAN'T HEAR MISPRINTS!!"
"IDIOT!"
"STOOPID!"
The two of you stare each other down, shoving your foreheads against each other. Your eyes pierce with the intensity of warriors, while behind them burned an inferno that dwarfed the sun of Celestia herself.
You notice a twitch in the corner of her mouth, and feel the same happening to you, and then, neither of you can hold it back any longer. You both flop onto your backs rolling around on the ground in fits of uncontrollable laughter. After a few minutes the two of you finally rise from the floor, wide smiles spread across both your muzzles.
"Hehehe, ah, congratulations, kid!" You cheer, tousling her mane with a hoof.
"Oh my Celestia, this is seriously amazing! Heehee!!"
"Lyra Heartstrings, was that a squeal?" You tease.
"Oh, shut up, not even you can get me down!"
"Alright, see you 'round." You leave the cheery mare to return to her personal celebration.
Returning back to the musicians, you notice that most of the others had received their music and were flipping through the pages looking at the various new pieces for them to learn. A few of them gave you a strange look, something between a congratulations and a small bit of jealousy. You sit down at your piano and see Octavia approaching you with a small smile on her face.
"Congratulations!" she smiles wider.
"Hm?" You tilt your head, confused, "Congratulations on what?"
"Oh," she seems surprised, "You don't know yet?"
"Know what?"
She pointed a hoof at your music. "Page 14".
You open to the page she told you. Suddenly your eyes grow wide in a mixture of excitement, joy, and the slightest hint of fright.
"A-a, what? A...piano solo...song? I-I-I...I..." You stood atop your leather chair, "YEAH!"
Octavia chuckles below you, "And you scold Lyra for over-reacting,"
Settling back down, you immediately start to look at the music.
"Wait...Me and Lyra have to do a song together?"
"I know, it'll be amazing if you two don't start swinging at each other during the performance," Octavia says, a smug look on her face.
"Hahaha, yeah, that'll be an interesting sight..."
"All right, everypony, listen up!"
Standing at the conductor's podium is the master-of-the-baton, Story Time. His name is certainly an oddity, considering his career, but he's one of the best conductors in the business. His blue mane is kept quite short, and his blue-grey eyes, though kind, show an inspiring intensity, a percussion clef rests upon his orange flank.
"We got our new music, so let's all take a second to warm up. We're gonna start on page six. Flutes, pay attention to the accidentals in measure fifty."
You raise your hooves to your keys. Story lifts his baton up in his golden aura, and with that, the Orchestra begins their daily practice, as you slowly drift into your musical trance...
You raise your hoof and knock on the door.
“Come in,” came the voice from the other side. You push the door open with your hoof, entering the seamstress’ office.
“Good day, Miss Pommel. How are things coming along?”
“Just fine,” she replied, her hooves busy working the sewing machine, her signature tie still hung around her neck. “I finally got the lead role’s costume figured out.”
“Oh, Lyra’s dress is finished? May I see?” Lyra may have been a pain, but she was your best friend, too.
“Of course,” she said walking over to a large white sheet that stood in the corner, gripping the corner with her mouth, “One, two, three!” she cheered as she pulled the cloth away, revealing the costume beneath.
"Um...forgive me Miss Pommel, but ...what exactly...is this?"
The earth pony giggled. "I'm not surprised you don't recognize it. It's not exactly what you'd see a pony wear. You did look at the new play, right?"
"Uh...sure..." you say, a bit unconvincingly.
Coco just giggles again and then hands you her copy of the script. For the first time, you actually read the title:
ANTHROPOLOGY: THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MIRROR
"Anthropology...nope don't know what it means."
"It's an old mythological study," Coco explained, "According to the myth, there was once a race of creatures, known as humans, that inhabited Equestria, but at one point in history, for some reason, they all disappeared."
"But, where'd they go?" you ask, "An entire race doesn't just disappear of the face of Equestria."
"The myth says they all left through a mirror that led to another dimension, where to this day they prosper even more than the ponies."
"Wow, you really know a lot about this don't you?"
She looked down at her hooves, shuffling them a bit, "Oh, well, I kinda used to study lots of stuff like this back in High School." You thought you noticed a light pink tinge on her cream-colored cheeks.
"So, as amazing as all that is, it still doesn't explain this…” You gesture to the garment, “dress? I suppose."
"Oh, well you see, one of the most interesting aspects of humans is that they considered nakedness to be a sign of shame or severe intimacy, so they would rarely be seen without a surprising amount of clothing. This is the style of dress that they would normally wear."
You nod. "That makes sense I suppose. So,” you smile at her, ”how can I help you today, Miss Pommel?"
"Um, you know...you can just call me Coco, if you want..."
Hm, that caught you a bit off guard, but whatever. If you're going to be working together, there was no real need for formalities.
"Alright then, Coco. What do you need me to do?"
She smiled. "You can use that machine over there," she pointed at a shiny sewing machine on a nearby table, "There's some basic outfits that need to be created, especially human clothes. If you need help there's a manikin over there in the corner."
And with that you set about work on the clothes. Apparently, these mythological creatures dressed so much, they actually had casual clothing! Just a thin layer of cloth that separated their bodies from the outside world! This in mind, it was very easy to create a wide variety of outfits, some incorporating designs and what humans called "Irony".
"You know," Coco speaks tentatively, "I have to ask. Where did you learn how to sew?"
You smiled at the memory, "My sister taught me when I was younger. She actually went on to be a somewhat successful designer in Vanhoover." You laughed at your memories, "You know, if it wasn't for that first piano I found, I probably would have ended up making dresses, too." You smiled wide, nostalgia washing over you. Shaking yourself from your haze of memory, you look toward the mare who asked you this question, "What about you? Someone had to teach you how to sew, right?"
Suddenly, her face became less cheery. Her smile faded away, and she looked at her hooves. "My mentor was a bit...less supportive than yours. She was actually... kind of mean..."
She spoke so sadly you could almost see the cloud forming over head, and the space around her slowly start to darken. You stood up and walked over to her.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was such a hard memory. You don't have to worry about it if you don't want to."
"Thanks" she said, a small smile appearing on her lips.
"Anytime," you smile, "Now come on, we've got shoes to make."
You exited the mare's workroom.
"See you tomorrow Coco!" You called, waving at her.
"Goodbye!" She waved back.
You walked forward nearly two feet, and then ran head first into somepony.
"Sorry," you mutter, before looking up to see Lyra's golden eyes looking back at you.
"What are you still doing here?" She asks, annoyed by your presence, apparently.
"I was helping the costume designer with the new show's costumes, might I ask you the same question?"
"Whahat?" She ask/laughs, "You sew?"
"Shut up."
"Alright, I'll make fun of you for that later." She then looks back at the door, "So, is my dress ready yet?"
"Oh, yeah." You respond, "Coco just finished it today."
"Awesome!" She runs past you and bursts through the door, "Lemme see! Lemme see!"
A very surprised Coco Pommel had her hooves lifted up to protect herself from the pony that had had just thrust herself into her office.
"Lyra! For Celestia's sake, you're scaring her!"
The unicorn looked over and saw Coco cowering in the corner.
"Oh, jeez....I'm sorry, uh..."
"Coco," she introduced herself, smiling, though slightly cautious, "Coco Pommel. You must be the lead in the new play."
"That's right! Lyra Heartstrings, at your service." The green mare extended a hoof, which Coco took and gently shook.
"So," Lyra was still excited, "I heard my dress was ready for me?"
"Um...well..." Coco drifted off, not sure what to say.
"The dress might be ready for you Lyra but that doesn't mean you're ready for it."
"You know you could just tell me," Lyra rolled her eyes, "I don't need you drawing things out."
"Okay," you nod, "Your current physical form and the one of the dress are currently completely different. That help you?"
"Uh...what?"
"The dresses are designed for humans," Coco explained, "Sorry, but you can't wear it yet, sorry..."
Lyra heaved a major sigh, "Suppose this was a waste of time then." She immediately headed out the door, not even a goodbye.
"You'll have to excuse my friend, she can be a bit...her."
"I can hear that!"
"Well learn from it!" You snap back. "Sorry about her."
Coco lifted a hoof to her muzzle to hide a giggle, "You two are certainly interesting to watch."
"Alright, well, goodbye. For real this time."
"See you tomorrow," she waves again.
Exiting the room, you run down the hall as fast as your hooves can carry you. Once you see Lyra you slow down, breathing slightly heavier.
"You know, you could of at least tried to be nice." You say, a little peeved at Lyra's behavior.
"Aw, shut up." She said, "You don't need to scold me to protect your marefriend."
"I-We-that's...Nothing like that is going on between me and Coco, I've known for, like, two days."
"And you're already acting protective of her, and admonishing me for acting like I always do, the only exception this time was being in her presence."
"Lyra. No. I don't like Coco. I mean, I like her, but I don't like her, or... Whatever."
"Hmhm, whatever you say, Loverboy,"
"What'd you call me?" you say darkly, turning with a scary scowl.
Lyra jumped back, a startled expression on her face, "I'msorryI'msorry!" She lifted her hooves to protect her from the blow she was sure you'd deliver. It never came.
"I thought so." you reply casually, "See you tomorrow Lyra!"
Stupid mare. What'd she know?
Exiting the theatre, you give a hard flap of your wings, soaring into the sky as you head for your flat. Your hooves were still sore from all of the work you had done with Coco that day, so walking wasn’t the most tempting prospect.
Landing in front of your door, you slip the key in and enter quietly, flopping down on your couch.
“Hmph, Lyra…” you were still quite sore from the “marefriend” comment, “What does she know about love anyway. Sure Coco’s sweet, and nice, and pretty, and…whatever. I still don’t want to be her coltfriend.”
And so you drifted on into sleep, Lyra’s words still dancing in your head.
“...so protective of her…”
“...acting the way I always do…”
“...you’re marefriend…”