The stage was dim. Whether it must have been dim in the audience as well, Rainbow Dash couldn't quite decide. It could have been that most of the light was being blocked by the formidable curtain in front of her and the other models.
So many ponies surrounded her, all in a line in front of and behind her (but mostly in front of), waiting in the secluded and hidden area before strutting across the same wide stage, and yet Rainbow Dash felt completely and utterly alone. It wasn't often that she was given the chance to stop and actually think to herself fully, and ask the sensible questions that had been hiding in her mind all along. Where was she? Why on earth was this particular pegasus at a fashion show? But had she asked that question before? It probably didn't matter--it still was something she wondered. She didn't like the nature of the place, she had no experience here, no right to be here. And no one here liked her, she thought.
Well... that much was almost true. There was that one pony she talked to who wasn't rude. Maybe things weren't that bad in Canterlot.
...Nah, the cellist she'd met before was just weird. All over her gray fur was written: "weird". No doubt about it, Rainbow decided dismissively.
And standing there, that was the only thing the nervous modeling pony could decide. Dresses as impressive as the one black one she wore, with its subtle, black frills and sharply contrasting white skirt, would usually give a pony a sense of importance, but Rainbow Dash just felt awkward. Suddenly, there was a sound coming from the front of the stage, of hooves clacking confidently across the light wood. They weren't hoofsteps Rainbow recognized, and she found herself holding her breath anxiously. The sound stopped, proceeded by that booming sound, the tapping of a microphone.
"Welcome," said a voice that was dull yet smooth, echoing powerfully. It seemed to lack enthusiasm but not confidence. "To another fashion show hosted by Reticent Pearl! Prepare to immerse yourself in the mysteries of the sky as you observe this beautiful display! Simple but powerful, these designs were made by Miss Rarity, a humble but talented designer from Ponyville!"
Beyond the curtain, the announcer whisked away swiftly. The audience's applause filled the room like a torrent of water. Most of the audience looked pleased or intrigued. Rarity, seated next to Jet Set and Upper Crust, shook her amethyst hair proudly from the positive attention granted by the speaker. All eyes of the ponies seated were glued to the yet unrevealing curtain. The string players sat poised and ready, the pianist bearing a solemn expression with his hooves resting on the black-and-white keys. A dark-haired cellist at the side of the stage nodded approvingly, wearing a grin curved like the crescent moon as the show began.
All of this was hidden by Rainbow Dash's eyes; she never did see how the show begin. As the clapping died down, nondescript Canterlot ponies passed before her, vanishing beyond the secretive curtain as she monotonously followed the line forward. And then it was her turn, and on an entirely unprecedented cue she burst through the curtain to a bright and more liberating space-- the platform of the stage beneath her. Before her swept a vast sea of ponies, a dark and mysterious body that might swallow up and tear to pieces any model who failed to live up to its standards. It was Rainbow's time to step behind the stunning, confident-looking mares who trotted up to and across the edges of the stage.
One who observed this elevated display might have bared an expression awe, wonder, or even a gleam of pride like a particular few ponies who watched Rainbow pick her head up and try her amateur best to become absorbed in her surroundings. The rainbow-accented head tipped to the left in confusion before its owner consciously seized control, guiding sky-blue hooves forward upon the path indicated by a long, thin stretch of red carpet wound oddly across the stage. There was no wind whipping past her, and no liberating, airborne feeling. This was no time for the midair flips and barrel she could perform on her own stunt course to which she'd become accustomed. On a quiet, slow-moving stage, it was time to wow the audience in a different way. Rainbow Dash tried to contain her audacious, adventurous streak within her apprehensive heart.
As ponies looked on, they would see not a whirlwind, nor a creature of savage action. As Rainbow Dash mused to herself, she realized this. Those observing saw a calm pony, appareled in a sweeping black dress, strutting across the stage. Like the others, she held her head tall, and as she walked on there was an unnatural sense of firmness, of tension, in her neck, one which she had never experienced before. Her feet were placed meticulously one after the other, and the once-cocky athlete realized that this kind of walking was one she had never before practiced.
It seemed like it was the first time that all eyes were on her and Rainbow actually felt uncomfortable. And for the first time, at least in years, a feeling of crushing inferiority descended upon her, settling like a block of lead in the bottom of her stomach. In that moment, the discombobulated pegasus didn't think, didn't try to figure out from where this humbling feeling originated. Her body, once presenting unparalleled agility and maneuverability, now felt clumsy and useless. All her acquired thoughts and skills were incompatible with her environment. Though headed in the right direction and with eyes wide open, she walked forward lifelessly like a drone.
It felt like altogether too long before the line of ponies trailed out the door, and even when that happened, the muffled uproar of clapping that followed from the other side of the wall almost wasn't caught by the humbled pegasus's ears at all. It was almost like a phantom or an illusion, a faint, hollow reminder that she was still in the same building. Rainbow jolted her head upright from where it had been sinking slowly to face the ground in discouragement. She soon realized this movement was abrupt and uncalled for. She didn't have to look behind her to see the nasty looks she was receiving--the other models' eyes were burning holes in the back of her head.
"Where are we going now?" came Rainbow's raspy half-whisper that she knew would not be well-received.
"Backstage, of course." spat one of the mares in her vicinity, a periwinkle-coated mare who had just turned around from whispering to one of her well-dressed acquaintances. At any other time, Rainbow might've been taken aback by that kind of response to a simple question, but her mind was clouded and it wasn't as if she'd have lent any courtesy toward these particular folks anyway. Though she'd never admit it, she sort of couldn't blame them. And she started to get another feeling even deeper down—it was hard to detect, but very painful and very much present—it was regret. Though there was no rational reason that it should hurt, it felt to Rainbow Dash like the whole city wanted her to never set hoof in Canterlot again in her life.
As Rainbow Dash reluctantly followed the other six or so mares down the hallway, there was no longer that forced, perfect model posture, and there was no longer a pressure to make the best impression on the audience. There was only a crushing defeat. She didn't bother wondering why this happened, why she let herself be hurt so badly, but if she had it would've been only for a short moment like the blink of an eye before she jumped to the conclusion that there was simply absolutely no chance for her in that stage to begin with. Canterlot was brutal, its inhabitants were brutal, and as the defeated pegasus made her way to the door that left backstage, she thought about how truly unimpressive Reticent Pearl and her stage was.
~ ~ ~
"Lovely designs, Miss Rarity!" an upper-crusty voice proclaimed, that voice just happening to belong to Upper Crust herself. "I must say, they're something... outside of your usual repertoire, but they're still just as stunning as expected!"
Jet Set, the accompanying gray-furred unicorn, nodded. "I enjoyed the iridescent-looking white one. It was simple, made with uniform material, but shone like a spectrum! Brilliant! I imagine it caught everyone's eye."
"Oh, thank you so much, darlings. It's been such a wonderful experience. Thank you a hundred times over for allowing me to stay here, and again for all your lovely compliments." Rarity smiled, heart swelling with joy. She had meant every word she said.
Upper Crust giggled. "You're welcome dear. You're a pleasure to have as a guest, you know." In the auditorium, the lights were now brighter than just moments before, and there were no spotlights on the big red carpet, nor on the grand stage. The crescent-moon-patterned curtains were drawn and remained still and steadfast; it was almost hard to believe the show had come and ended so fast. But Rarity's designs had caught the eyes of and wowed the audience, which assured her she had done a good job. She appreciated that much.
Still, though... There was something that worried her. Her friends looked happy, and they would soon leave after exiting the auditorium like they began doing and picking up their blue pegasus friend. But what about Rainbow Dash? Perhaps it was really Rarity's fault to begin with. Perhaps she should've guided Rainbow Dash, given the mare tips on how to walk properly down the carpet, practiced in advance to ensure that her technique was perfect. It must have slipped her mind in the past hectic days of preparation. Of course Rainbow Dash was unaccustomed to that kind of presentation. That must have been why she looked so odd and stiff.
Looking around her as she got up and telekinetically lifted her stylish hat and shrug onto her, Rarity was overwhelmingly tempted to inquire Jet Set and Upper Crust about how Rainbow Das had looked up on stage, but she held back for fear of receiving a puzzled look, and because she knew they wouldn't have any strong emotional response to her Cloudsdale-raised, winged friend. That was the one problem with these Canterlot friends, Rarity noted pensively before adding some pep to her trot and following her accompaniment out the door with a raised and expectant head.
~ ~ ~
She had meant it when she'd called her weird. Just...not in a bad way. It probably had sounded rather mean, though the way she had just abruptly said it. She shouldn't have just let those words slip out—she'd been taught by her parents, instructed by everyone surrounding her when she was brought up, to be reserved, and do anything but just speak her opinion freely and blatantly. Yet that structure seemed to just fall apart when she talked to the polychromatic-maned mare. It had been, for that moment, as if there was no one else surrounding them. They just talked. And it was weird. No one in Canterlot could she remember just talking to like that.
But evidently she had said something wrong to the eccentric, modeling pony, Octavia realized as she recalled the words she had used. And evidently, she thought, it had a negative effect on the sky-colored mare that remained with her as she walked down the carpet to display her dark dress. The poor thing had looked so awkward, so insecure, so disconcerted, rather than proud of her appearance in what should have been her time to shine. Never before had Octavia witnessed a model with that sort of demeanor.
And she needed to apologize for how she had wronged that erratic pegasus, the one now standing across the room from her. Would this sky-blue mare dash right out of the room in the blink of an eye? Would the cellist be deprived of the opportunity to speak to her again? Octavia puzzled over her own internal conflict as she knelt on the floor to pack up her large instrument. As the last lock of the black case "click"ed shut, she rose to her hooves, steadying herself with the hard cello case. Then, she froze. Across the room, a pair of familiar magenta eyes was aimed at her.
Before the dark-maned musician could ask herself, "how?" or "why?" the eyes darted away again. But after they had, she asked herself those things just the same.
Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash looked at her hooves. She felt another stab of guilt, as obviously any other Canterlot resident wouldn't be caught staring at another without a proper greeting to break the awkward silence. It didn't cross her mind, of course, that most silences in Canterlot were absolutely deliberate and not at all awkward. It hadn't even been a rude or disrespectful gesture, she thought rationally. It had just been that she thought she had felt a subtle glance or two in her direction, and not a scornful or indignant one. And curiosity may have killed the cat, but it had certainly never killed the Dash, at least not in any of her experiences to date.
The one thing that stopped her from acting upon her curious impulses was the threatening atmosphere. She was, after all, in no authority to do anything out of the ordinary without being regarded as an uncouth and undesirable plebian. The very notion was unsettling, and for once she longed for some familiarity. When would Rarity arrive?
Surprisingly, what seemed to ultimately surpass anyone's misgivings was Octavia's own curiosity. As her carefully calculated footsteps guided the dark-haired mare toward Rainbow Dash, Rainbow tried to tell herself it was a mistake. Her wings tingled, resisting the urge to propel her out of the door along with her legs. Though it was painfully true that everyone around would judge harshly, and perhaps even say something so awful as to make her regret even breathing in Canterlot air, there was nowhere for her to run to.
"Um, hello, Miss..." Octavia stopped, at a loss of two words that were her conversation partner's very name.
"Rainbow Dash!" the tense pegasus responded, trying to appear more relaxed as Octavia continued.
"Rainbow Dash." The elegant, gray mare stopped again, as if making a mental note to herself, but as Rainbow Dash observed, the cellist's expression was not one of pride, nor even condescending amusement. It might've been something akin to pleasant surprise, perhaps softer. "If I might ask, did you enjoy the show? I might note that... Er...I..." she hesitated. "How was it?"
"It was... fine. I..." Rainbow Dash tried to stay confident, tried to look unfazed, but it was no use. Unlike all the other models, she was a fish out of water here. "Actually, I had never really done anything like that before." She hesitated to ask the next question, half not wanting the humiliation. "How did I look? Did I do alright?"
"The truth is... You did all right. You walked behind the other models at the right pace, following the right path..." Octavia's lavender-colored eyes were facing the ground, but they darted up toward Rainbow's for a moment. If it weren't Octavia that this Pegasus were talking to, she would have gotten the impression she just received a look of sympathy. Rainbow Dash looked away, perhaps out of habit.
"Well, that's, uh... Well, that's good." Maybe, Rainbow Dash thought, she should just take a compliment, however incomplete it sounded. She shifted her hooves nervously, but Octavia jumped back into the conversation like a swooping hawk.
"But as I thought about it... More and more I thought, something doesn't look right." Rainbow tensed as Octavia spoke. Of course, this wasn't to criticize your performance, because you really did do just what you were supposed to. Rather, it was something less easy to detect but still clearly off, something almost beyond your control."
Rainbow Dash blinked, wanting to fathom why the musician was saying all this but not wanting to miss a word being spoken.
"See, as I looked across the stage at all the models, I realized that each display was brimming with personality. For example, the mare with periwinkle fur wore a studious-looking gray and indigo dress with translucent ribbons trailing mysteriously behind... It showed a sense of cunning that even shone in her sharp-edged eyes. The saffron-eyed pink mare wore an iridescent-looking white dress; with her sweeping white hair she was the picture of dignity and grace. The personalities not made obvious by their outfits they made up for in their expressions and the way they carried themselves. The white-coated mare with dark-blue tendrils in her mane and a puffy, mottled blue and white dress, she had a gentle, benign expression. Her appearance was delicate, fragile. But you... I wasn't sure what to think of you. Maybe tense, unpredictable, like a thunderstorm. But if anything, you looked... not quite comfortable. Your hoofsteps were stiff, forced, like you were holding something back... Anyway, that was just my impression."
Octavia had stopped her brief monologue, and Rainbow looked on in bewilderment. She would never have expected to listen to a stranger attempt to give an in-depth analysis of how she merely walked across a stage. Then again, in most cases she wouldn't have expected to ever be part of a fashion show. And since it would be rude not to respond to someone who put so much thought into their words, she had to open her own, usually-loud-and-impulsive mouth. "A-aren't fashion shows designed so that you're holding back? No one wants a model to be sprinting across the auditorium, right?"
Octavia was smiling, eyes sparkling as Rainbow Dash chuckled nervously. Her voice took a kind but authoritative tone. "I suppose not. Then again, I shouldn't be bombarding you with all these words so suddenly after you finished your first fashion show. You worked hard, didn't you?"
Rainbow nodded vehemently, or at least in a way that gave the impression of vehemence.
"Well then I don't want you overthinking it. That's what makes us thinking badly of our own choices. You made no wrong choice—In fact, you made the excellent choice to display yourself and your brilliant, multicolor mane." Rainbow Dash glanced up at a strand of her namesake hair slipping toward her eye. Her mane was looking ever so slightly less neat and smoothly-combed than it had when it began. "Will you be participating in another show sometime? You know, for practice?"
Rainbow's eyes widened. "F-for practice? Oh, um, well... !" She suddenly felt like there was something she needed to resolve. She needed to right this horrifying mistake of humiliating herself and the designer. As the door swung open behind her, Rainbow Dash glanced back to see her fashionista unicorn friend trotting toward her.
Another fashion show, to improve her presentation. That would, in turn, be another chance for Rarity to display her simple but powerful designs. That's what her friend would want, right? Rainbow Dash turned toward Rarity, and the bowtie-clad mare behind her raised an eyebrow.
"Hi Rarity!--Oh! Octavia," Rainbow added hastily before she prepared to leave, "This is my friend Rarity. From Ponyville. She's the dress designer!"
Octavia gave a grin like the crescent moon.