Pinkie Pie felt something unsettling as she walked through the lunch line with her tray. Normally, she only felt this uncomfortable rumbly in her tumbly after eating the school's tacos, but this time she felt it before she had eaten them. That meant something was very wrong here at Canterlot High, and she needed to find out what.
Now armed with two tacos and a mountain of carrots on her plate, she walked around, looking for something, anything, that was wrong; but was unable to find anything amiss in the lunchroom.
She strolled right out the door with her tray and wandered through the halls, but found nothing. All the lockers were in place, all the class hamsters were in their cages, the tiles were their usual shade of color and everything.
Eventually, she made her way into the gym, where she also saw nothing wrong. She did, however, hear something wrong. Quiet and wrong. In fact, it sounded almost like crying.
Poking her head under the thick, blue stage curtain, she saw a very familiar girl in a light blue hoodie with an impossibly large ponytail, crouching on stage with her back towards Pinkie.
“Hi!” Pinkie said.
Startled, Sonata Dusk spun around, and the microphone she had been holding in front of her flew out of her hands. It continued on its trajectory and bonked Pinkie right in the middle of the forehead before dropping right into her pile of carrots.
Pinkie's smile didn't even falter. “Hi, Sonata Dusk!” she said. “Why are you all saddy-waddy back here?”
Sonata turned her back and sat down again, hoping that Pinkie would get the message and leave her alone.
She might as well have wished herself back into Equestria.
Pinkie Pie sidled up next to her and brushed against her shoulder with her usual disregard for personal space. “No one can be sad on taco Tuesday!” she proclaimed, sliding her tray in front of Sonata. “Come on! Have a taco and tell Auntie Pinkie what's wrong!”
Sonata paused, the ridiculousness of that statement dragging her back to reality. “I'm pretty sure I'm at least, like, twice as old as you,” she pointed out.
Pinkie patted her on the head patronizingly. “Just eat your taco,” she said.
Sonata squinted, but picked up a taco. The taco shell had been warned in a microwave and crumbled slightly at her touch, the lettuce had wilted, the cheese was thinly grated and sparse, the beans had been left out for a bit too long and had formed a crusty exterior, and the textured vegetable protein had been slightly over cooked.
It was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten.
“There, that better?” Pinkie asked when she’d finished.
Sonata nodded and brushed her lips off with the back of one hand.
“What are you doing here on stage, anyway?” Pinkie asked.
Sonata sighed. It wouldn't hurt to share. What would Pinkie do, take her non-existent magic? “I was practicing singing. I thought that if I had a microphone and was on stage, with no one else around, I could get some good practice in.”
“And did you?”
Sonata hung her head. “No,” she admitted. “I mean, I did; but it stank. Stunk. Stinked. Stinkied?” Unable to conjugate her verb, she groaned in defeat and drooped down further. “It was really, really bad,” she translated.
“Well, maybe you just need someone to believe in you. Here!” Pinkie slid around to the front of Sonata and handed the microphone back to her. “I’ll be your audience!”
Sonata’s eyes widened and she pushed it away. “No! I’ll embarrass myself!” she protested.
Pinkie looked flatly at her. “You tried to brainwash the whole school into fighting and then got defeated by a giant ethereal alicorn and then sang like nails on a chalkboard in front of the whole school. You’re probably more embarrassed than Sunset Shimmer was when she went full she-demon on us.” Pinkie paused, and called back over her shoulder. “No offense!”
Across the school back in the cafeteria, Sunset Shimmer suddenly sneezed, and Fluttershy politely handed her a napkin.
Pinkie turned back to Sonata. “Come on. You can try,” she offered. “I promise, I won’t laugh.”
Sonata exhaled and stood up, preparing to sing. “Ok, but you asked for it.”
And she did. It was a simple melody, a warm-up routine sung using only vowel sounds.
Frankly, it sounded as though someone were attempting to orchestrate a choir from a pair of alley cats, with a fire engine siren as backup.
When she’d finished her attempt, Pinkie nonchalantly raised a pinky finger and rubbed off some of the blood oozing out of her ear. “Well, you certainly have the volume!” she said brightly.
Sonata sighed and dropped to a seated position. “I know! That was awful!” she moaned. “The lyrics come, but I just can't sing them! It's just… argh! I hate this. This is the worst-est thing ever!”
“Maybe you could try learning to do something else?” Pinkie suggested.
Sonata blinked flatly. “Like what? I can't do anything else! I'm a siren,” she emphasized. “Singing is all I do! Singing is my answer to, like, everything! If we want something, we sing. When we're bored, we sing. When we're tired, we sing. When we don't know what to do, we sing. Singing is plan A, plan B, and usually plan C. Sing and get people to do what we want.”
“Most people sleep when they get tired,” Pinkie observed.
Sonata frowned. She had a point, there. “Well, we do that too; but usually we sing first. Singing is, like, the bestest thing ever; and now we can't. It's awful.”
“Oh. I see,” Pinkie said.
“No, you don't! It's like if you woke up and suddenly couldn't be…” Sonata suddenly realized that she had no idea what Pinkie Pie did. “You-y anymore!” she settled on saying.
Pinkie nodded sagely. “Well, even if I weren't able to be me-y anymore, I'd still have my friends, and we-”
Sonata chuckled darkly. “Adagio has been pouting on the roof for days and Aria just argues with me about everything. More than she usually does, even.”
“Huh. I wonder if she's cold up there,” Pinkie thought aloud.
“Probably not,” Sonata said. “We kindof live up there now. We stole some of the wrestling mats from the gym, some of the blankets from the laundry room, and one of the old couches from backstage. We even had to move them ourselves; we couldn't sing anyone to do it. We only have one little pillow that I stole from the teacher's lounge, and Adagio keeps stealing it from me.” She exhaled. “And we’re gonna be stuck up there for the rest of our lives if we don’t learn how to sing again.”
“Maybe you don’t need to sing. You could try rapping instead or something,” Pinkie suggested.
“Rapping?” Sonata scoffed. “That's not music. It's funny to watch, but that’s it.”
“You could try! Come on!” Pinkie stood up and began rhythmically slapping out a beat on her thighs and by clapping.
Sonata shook her head.
“Come on!” Pinkie repeated. “Think of something and just let it go!”
Sonata shook her head and stood up. “You're crazy,” she said.
“And you're just scared!” Pinkie taunted.
Sonata froze. Slowly, she spun around to face Pinkie.
Don't call me scared, Pinkie, I know what I'm doing
I've been ready to go even before I was a human!
Admittedly, it had been a forced rhyme; but it had come out smoothly and relatively in time with Pinkie’s beat. Sonata blinked, and then a slow smile crossed her face.
Pinkie nodded encouragingly, not stopping her beat. Her confidence somewhat buoyed by this, Sonata continued.
I’m on stage with Pinkie, but she showed up later
She brought me a taco, so I can’t really hate her
I’ve got things to do, new worlds to explore
So give me the mic, ‘cause I gotta roar!
Pinkie chuckled. Not breaking her rhythm, she wrapped the microphone cable around her boot and kicked it up to Sonata. Sonata caught it effortlessly and continued, her voice stronger now, even though the microphone wasn’t actually plugged into anything.
I’ve got a new gig and I’ve got a new style
If rapping were a race I could run for eight miles
I’ve got new ideas and I’ve got new moves
So watch out, world! Sonata’s gotta groove!
Pinkie laughed and rushed up and gave Sonata a hug, which she gleefully returned.
“You did it!”
“I did do it!” Sonata cheered. “Wait until I tell Adagio!”
* * *
“…and so I was thinking…”
“What have I told you about thinking?” Adagio interrupted.
Sonata hesitated. “Uh, to not to; but-”
“Then why did you?”
“It wasn't just me,” Sonata defended herself. “It was also Pinkie's idea.”
“Oh. Pinkie Pie. That makes it allll better,” Aria said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sonata didn't pick up on this. “I know, right?” she said naively. “She's pretty nice; when she's not breaking hearts and such. Anyway, she got the idea that I should try rapping instead!”
Aria snorted derisively.
Adagio rolled her eyes. Her verdict came quickly and bitingly. “You’re stupid,” she said, not even bothering to look up.
“Hey,” Sonata protested.
“I mean it this time,” Adagio said, her voice cold. “Rapping? I swear, you were dropped on your head at birth. Your stupid little airheaded ideas are tolerable only for so long, and this time you’re really pushing my limit.”
“It’s not even music,” Aria agreed. “You’re just wasting your time.”
“At least I’m trying something,” Sonata defended herself. “And I’m pretty ok at it, I guess. That’s better than sitting and doing nothing and hoping our magic comes back on its own, right?”
Aria narrowed her eyes. “You only think it’s good because you’re an idiot. You’re not even smart enough to realize the situation we’re in.”
“Am too!” Sonata insisted.
“Are not!” Aria retorted.
“Am too!”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too, are too, are too.”
“I am not smart enough!” Sonata nearly shouted. She then paused, processing what she had just said. She raised a finger and tried to say something to correct herself, but the damage had already been done.
“Glad to see you’re finally admitting it,” Adagio said, the barest hint of a smile crossing her lips. “Now, if you want to go play with the pink, bubble-headed spaz, go right ahead; but if you go, don’t bother coming back.” She glared. “And yes, I mean that ‘for realzies’.”
Sonata looked at her, and then back at Aria. It was clear that neither of them wanted her there.
Fine. She didn’t have to stay. Even for sisters, they had never really been close, anyway.
Head bowed, she exhaled, and climbed back down the access ladder, leaving them to argue over the pillow.
* * *
Sonata Dusk wandered down the sidewalk, her hands jammed deep into her hoodie pockets, looking down and kicking a rock as she went. It would be dark soon, and it sounded like Adagio had meant it about not coming back. She had thought she could go visit Pinkie, but after a few minutes of walking in a random direction, she realized she had no idea where Pinkie lived. What if she didn't find her? Where would she go? What would she do? Could she sleep in the school? Maybe the library. Libraries were boring. No one would see her.
And then she saw a very familiar set of boots in front of her. She looked up, and there stood Pinkie Pie, hand outstretched.
“I felt like someone over here could use a friend,” she said simply.