The Evening Sonata

by Daniel-Gleebits


The Sunrise Sonata, Part 6

The Sunrise Sonata Pt6


Sonata Dusk

Sonata didn’t ask Sunset what the matter was that night. She never intended to ask her; Sunset would tell her in time if she wanted to. It took a while to calm Sunset down, although she denied to the end that anything was wrong. Sonata was patient. She held her friend, stroked her hair, spoke soothing words, kissed her forehead, and made her tea. Nothing but time seemed to help, and maybe Sonata hoped, just her presence was enough to comfort her friend’s pain.
She had never seen Sunset break down like this. Sunset had always seemed beyond breaking down. Even when she and her sisters had pointed out the uncomfortable half-truths during the battle of the bands incident, Sunset hadn’t allowed the taunts to visibly affect her, no matter how much internally they might have hurt.
Eventually, blowing her nose and with a tremulous smile, Sunset sat back up and took a deep breath.
“Sorry about that,” she said, wiping her face with another tissue. “Just a build up I guess.”
“It’s okay,” Sonata smiled, tilting her head to one side. “We all cry sometimes.” She thought for a moment or two, and then stood up. “How about I go get us something from that sandwich shop on the corner? Thai chicken flatbreads always cheer you up.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Sunset conceded. “Sure. Here,” she said, passing her a twenty. “I know you have no cash on you at the moment,” she said, knowingly. Sonata grinned guiltily.


Sonata couldn’t honestly say that she was a particularly thoughtful individual. That is to say, she didn’t habitually think a great deal about things, and preferred to simply do or say things that came to her and wonder about the consequences later. As she strolled down the street to the intersection, tracing the familiar pattern of red and gold bricks of the plaza, she was thinking very, very hard.
Sunset’s behaviour had shocked her. There was no other word for it. When Sunset had stepped into the apartment, Sonata had looked over with the full intent of running over and covering her in a paint-splattered hug. The thought of Sunset with splatters of paint on her face had just been so funny in her head. But Sonata froze when she actually saw Sunset’s face. Tears had stained her cheeks and she was white as a sheet. The image had startled Sonata too much to remember her little trick, let alone say anything to her. Her actions had been instinctive, dredged up from some primordial part of herself that seemed to know what to do, or at least what to try. She was thankful that, for now at least, it seemed to have worked.
Sonata reached for the door to the shop, but her hand hit someone else’s and she pulled away.
“Oh,” she said in slight surprise. “Hi Rarity.”
“Darling!” Rarity said pleasantly. “I’ve been meaning to chat with you. Are you eating in?”
“No, I was getting something for Sunset,” Sonata said, her face falling slightly. “She’s not feeling well.”
“Oh my,” Rarity said, low and serious. “Come on in. It’s a bit chilly to be standing around talking.”
The inside of the shop was small but cosy. It was warm, smelled of fresh bread and coffee, and had a charming retro tea-house style to it, with wooden slat walls and pictures of grand national newspapers in glass cases. It wasn’t exactly Sonata’s scene, but their sandwiches were good. Damn good.
Sonata and Rarity sat down as they waited for their sandwiches, Rarity promising she wouldn’t keep Sonata any longer than she needed to.
“What I wanted to discuss was the dress ideas, since you want to feature them in your posters. I know I gave you some ideas already, and I do think that one set in particular is my personal favourite still, but I think it would be wholly wrong of me not to show you some more ideas.”
Sonata looked over a number of pictures on Rarity’s phone, but something in her face must have shown that her mind wasn’t on target.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Rarity asked solicitously. “You really don’t seem like yourself.”
“I guess I’m just worried about Sunset still. I’ve never seen her like this before.”
This had the effect of grabbing Rarity’s attention entirely. “Like what, Sonata? If she’s really that seriously ill, she might want to see a doctor.”
“She’s not sick,” Sonata said, staring at the table top. “At least, I don’t think that she is. She’s... sad about something. She won’t tell me why, but—“
Rarity listened with a growing look of astonishment as Sonata told her everything that had happened since Sunset came home. By the time Sonata had finished, Rarity’s eyes were wide and her mouth hanging open. Sonata squirmed in her chair, unsure why Rarity was gaping at her.
“Um... Rarity?” she said.
“They weren’t kidding,” Rarity breathed, as though she hadn’t heard Sonata speak. “I thought they were just... they were serious...”
“Hello?” Sonata said, waving her hand in Rarity’s face. “Earth to Rarity.”
Rarity looked up. “Sorry?”
Sonata smiled. “You were spacing out on me there.”
“Oh...” Rarity said, still looking dazed. Then she blinked and looked altogether more serious. “Sonata, are you two, um... uhh...” she hesitated so long that Sonata frowned, confused.
“Are we what?” she asked, oblivious.
“Well it would explain why she had no real interest in Flash,” Rarity said, talking to herself again. “Are you and Sunset... together?” she said delicately.
“We live together,” Sonata said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, no, dear,” Rarity said, leaning forward. “I mean, are you an item? A couple? Two parts of the same whole?” She meshed her fingers together.
“A couple,” Sonata blinked. “Like, boyfriend and girlfriend?” she asked, looking more confused than ever.
“I suppose that’s my answer,” Rarity sighed, shaking her head.
“Why would you think that?” Sonata said, starting to laugh. “I mean, we’re both girls.”
“Well yes, it would never occur to me, of course,” Rarity said as though making a concession. “But come on, darling. This is the 21st century. Two people who love each other no matter who they are isn’t so surprising anymore.”
Sonata considered this. “But I don’t love Sunset—“ She didn’t know what made her stop her sentence. It was as though she had had a sudden thought, or something had just dawned upon her. But nothing did. Subsequent attempts to continue the sentence utterly failed her. “I mean, I like her, sure. She’s great. We live together and she’s patient, kind, generous, understanding...” she trailed adjectives for a little while. Rarity gave her a beady look.
“Sonata, I know that ‘depth’ really isn’t your thing. You’re a charmingly straight forward sort of person. You have no veneer or masks to strip away. But I think you need to have a long, hard think about what it is you feel.”
“But,” Sonata began. “But does Sunset know this? Does she know that a girl can like another girl?”
“By what Applejack and Pinkie told me, she’s known a while,” Rarity muttered.
“What?”
“I’m sure she does, dear,” Rarity said, reassuringly. “Most people do these days, as I say. Now don’t get me wrong,” she said in an even more serious tone and putting a hand on Sonata’s across the table. “I’m not telling you what to feel, or to decide right now. These are matters of the heart. Just feel your way through it, and then decide at the end what you think would be the best thing to do. The only people whom love truly touches are those who feel it.”
A few seconds after this little speech, the sandwiches arrived, Rarity’s on a plate, and Sonata’s in a bag.
“Ugh!” Rarity cried. “I asked you not to give me a pickle!”
As the drama from this little mistake unfolded, Sonata contemplated Rarity’s words. Rarity was right to say that Sonata was not a deep person in the sense that she didn’t affect a personality that wasn’t her real self. She had never considered the subject of love seriously before, and it certainly hadn’t occurred to her with her roommate. The prospect even now was just so... strange. Even as she felt this however, doubts appeared in her mind. Some of Sunset’s behaviour floated to the forefront of her mind and lingered like unanswered questions. And then even some of her own actions, things that she, Sonata, had done that in the open forum of her thoughts didn’t quite make sense. Hiding away her drawings of Sunset. The fact that she liked to be physically close to her whenever she could. The nickname she teased her with. Somehow she had always explained these things away as Sunset just being her friend, but now...
Sonata stood up. “Thanks for showing me the pictures Rarity. See you later,” she said, leaving the table.
“Sonata?” Rarity said, bewildered. “Sonata where are you going?” her sentence trailed off at the end as the door closed with a tinkling of the doorbell. Rarity contemplated the door for a few moments, wondering if perhaps she had gone too far.


Despite her actions at the sandwich shop, Sonata wasn’t as impacted by the information as one might expect. It hit her more as something to think about, not something to worry about, perhaps because she was already too worried about other things. Or perhaps, although this didn’t occur to her, she already knew the answer in the deepest, unknowable parts of herself.
Whatever the case, it didn’t seem to Sonata at least to be the priority now. Aria was in hospital, perhaps never able to walk again, and Sunset was miserable about something. In the face of those sorts of problems, her own issues seemed insignificant.
When she got back to the apartment, she found Sunset apparently much recovered, and even more like her usual self when Sonata passed her sandwich and her change to her.
“Where’s yours?” Sunset asked.
“My what?”
“Sandwich.”
“Oh,” Sonata shrugged. “I didn’t want one.”
Sunset frowned. “I’m not letting you stop eating any more than I’m letting you stop sleeping,” she said, severely. “If I don’t see you eat before I go to bed tonight, I’ll force feed you. Don’t think I won’t.”
“Okay, okay!” Sonata raised her hands in surrender before pulling on her paint shirt. “Got it. Message received. Sí, mi capitán”
She went to continue painting the latest square of canvas, but then paused, and looked back at Sunset on her laptop. Her face was no longer pale. The haunted look had gone from her eyes. She seemed so like her usual self right then, it was as though she had never been sad at all. Sonata genuinely hoped that whatever it was no longer hurt her.
“Something wrong?” Sunset asked, catching Sonata’s eye.
“Huh?” Sonata gave her head a shake. “No, I’m fine. Just daydreaming.” She gave a winning smile and went back to painting. Then she stopped again, paint brush in mid-stroke. She pondered something for a moment, and then asked “When were you thinking of going to bed?”
“In an hour, I guess,” Sunset said, checking the time on her laptop. “Why?”
“No reason. Just don’t want to keep you awake.”
“Good news on the funding front, by the way,” Sunset said with satisfaction. “Flim and Flam are on board, although I had to bargain hard for it. And Vinyl is perfectly happy to set us up with some rental equipment so long as she gets to DJ for us again.”
“What did you end up bargaining Flim and Flam for?” Sonata asked, darkly.
“They get to sell merchandise on our behalf and keep a share of the profits,” Sunset sighed. “They had to be able to make money here or they would never have gone for it. Advertising alone and the appearance of being actual caring human beings apparently isn’t enough for them.” She shook her head in vague disgust. “I honestly wonder how they get along in business at all.”
“By tricking people,” Sonata huffed, splashing an angry stroke of red across her painting.
“Also the printing company is ready and waiting for your poster ideas.”
“They’re ready,” Sonata waved her palette at the small pile on the coffee table.
She finished the square she was working on and set it to dry on the wall. She had two walls full now. She would take down the dried ones tomorrow morning and continue over. Taking another sheet of canvas, she went to sketch the lines to another piece of the project when she halted. An image came into her mind. She looked quickly at Sunset from behind her easel, thinking of her zip pocket of hidden pictures. She sketched out something, modified it a little, stood back and looked at the whole thing. It was a quick picture, a simple sketch, a simple paint job, but there was a restlessness in her that made it overtake her mind. The picture made her happy. Suddenly the prospect of continuing to paint her other project was daunting.
“You know,” she said quite out of the blue. “I think I’ll turn in early tonight. Get a fresh start on it all tomorrow.”
“Well that’s good,” Sunset said. “You’re still eating something though.”
“Of course,” Sonata rolled her eyes. She took the canvas off the easel and waved it through the air a bit, hoping it’d dry a bit quicker, and then making sure Sunset wasn’t watching her, rolled it up and set it aside. Yawning most convincingly, she went to pick something out of the fridge whilst Sunset took a shower.
“Hey, you think I could sleep in your bed?” Sonata asked as Sunset exited the bathroom. She repressed a smirk as she continued “It was really comfy this morning.”
She waited for Sunset to react, to yelp in surprise, or even to give her a stern look. Sonata liked those little reactions, and frequently tried out small things that came to her mind that would evoke them. To her consternation however, Sunset did none of these things. Standing in a long towel and with a smaller one wrapped around her hair, she was looking speculatively at the canvas on the walls, as though debating something within herself. Sonata had the sense that Sunset hadn’t heard her, and was about to repeat her joke, when Sunset spoke up.
“If you like,” she said.
“If I like what?”
Sunset looked at her. “You can sleep in my bed if you like,” she clarified.
“No, no, I was kidding. It was a joke,” Sonata chuckled, hands raised. Sunset didn’t seem to be listening to her again. “I mean, where would you sleep?”
“The bed’s meant for two,” Sunset went on, still contemplating the stretch of canvas squares.
Sonata understood far too late that she’d really landed herself in it now. Rarity’s face drifted irresistibly into her brain, reminding her of their conversation.
She just had to say no. She didn’t want to sleep in Sunset’s bed, it had just been a joke. But she found this simple explanation curiously difficult to give as she looked into Sunset’s face. She suddenly realised that maybe whatever had been on Sunset’s mind earlier was still there, no matter how diminished, weighing on her. She couldn’t say no to her now.
“Oh come on,” Sunset said, possibly guessing some of Sonata’s thoughts from her expression, or from her silence. “We’re both grown up enough not to overreact to something like this. There’s room enough for two. It’s not like I haven’t slept in a room with six other girls before after all.”
“But that’s a slumber party,” Sonata said meekly from behind her easel.
“Think of this as a slumber party then,” Sunset said, turning to her room. “I’m going to sleep. You do what you like. Just try not to make too much noise if you decide to sleep in my room.” She gave Sonata a brief smile and then left to change.
Sonata stood next to her easel until Sunset’s door closed, and then marvelled how effectively she had just screwed herself over. Little though she liked to think about it, she thought that maybe Aria did have something of a point when she said that she, Sonata, had a subconscious penchant for screwing things up.
But, she thought, she could hardly say no now. As uncomfortable as the prospect was, the thought of doing otherwise filled her with something akin to guilt. Quite why, she couldn’t say. So, resigned to her fate, she brushed her teeth as slowly as she could, put her pyjamas on in as much of a prolonged way as possible, took her hair out of its ponytail with a the sort of care one usually employed during bomb-disposal, checked herself in the mirror for any peculiarities she might hitherto not have noticed, and began the short but doom-laden march to bed.


The lights were off inside the bedroom. It was a small room in Sonata’s opinion, but neat and orderly. A small chest of drawers next to the bed held a lamp and the magic journal Sunset kept in order to contact Princess Twilight. Other than a wardrobe and a laundry basket, nothing much else stood in the room. A few photos plastered a corkboard, but the room was very functional. Practical. It didn’t hold much of the personal touches that the living room did.
Having taken in all of these details as though she were bidden to memorise them, Sonata turned her attention at last to the bed, and the person in it. As Sunset had said, it was indeed made for two people, and Sunset lay on the side of it closest to the door, facing away from the other side. Sunset wasn’t asleep Sonata knew, so she quietly made her way around the bed and gently lifted the sheet. Gingerly she sat down, wincing as the springs groaned beneath her. Then she lifted one leg in, and then the other, trying hard to stay to the margins. The process was taking an extraordinarily long time to perform, given how simple the action itself should have been.
Will you just lie down!” Sunset erupted. Sonata jumped, yanking the covers over herself and holding still. She was in. She lay stiff as a board, feeling the cold precipice of the bed’s end under her right side, and watching Sunset for any signs of continuing admonishment. Nothing further came.
There was a good two or three feet between them, so Sonata felt over the next few moments that it might be safe to edge a little closer in; get comfortable. Nonetheless, her fingers fidgeted with each other underneath the covers, and she could not have felt more ill-at-ease.
Just as she was beginning to debate with herself whether she should wait until Sunset was properly asleep, and then slip out back to her futon, she felt a slight trembling running through the bed. A slow, rhythmic, shaking that could only faintly be felt as Sonata lay still. Sonata looked quizzically around, wondering if maybe someone’s television or radio was on loudly somewhere. But she didn’t hear any loud noises. No, wait. That wasn’t true. She could hear a noise.
Very carefully so as not to disturb the bed too much, Sonata pushed herself up, and looked over Sunset’s shoulder. Her fist was gripping her pillow, her bright blue eyes half closed and brimming with tears. She breathed through her mouth so that Sonata would not hear her sobs and sniffles, but she couldn’t quite mask the little gasps and winces. And Sonata understood in that instant why Sunset let her sleep in the same bed as her. A long-forgotten feeling of loneliness and misery crept up from within her, a sensation of terrible cold and hopelessness. She felt her own eyes stinging, and it suddenly didn’t matter to Sonata what her own feelings towards Sunset were. All of the awkwardness, her doubt, her smothered but heartfelt desire to know just what it was she felt towards her friend fell away to a more natural need to comfort her.
Without really thinking about it, she closed the distance between them, and put an arm around her middle. Sunset twitched slightly, obviously not expecting the touch, but she didn’t push Sonata away. Her own trembling hand covered Sonata’s, and she began to cry in earnest.
“It’s okay,” Sonata whispered, holding Sunset close. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”


- To be Continued