//------------------------------// // 10. Pinkie Pie Swear // Story: Pinkie Pie Swear // by Annuska //------------------------------// To absolutely no one’s surprise (except maybe his own), the Dazzlings swept, mopped, and polished the floor with Flash Sentry’s band, earning their rightful place in the finals. The Rainbooms didn’t have it so easy. And Sonata cringed at the impalement of Pinkie’s drum, even if she laughed a little at the rest of the disaster. Adagio thought it was only decent courtesy to give their dear rivals some help – and “help” they did, pushing the Rainbooms through to the finals (much to their fellow students’ disdain), before offering some rather insightful condolences to poor Trixie, robbed of her own rightful place in the finals. Sonata followed along, of course – sang the enchantment to persuade the principal and vice principal to rig the outcome – spoke her own thoughts out loud, setting off some sparks in Trixie’s head that would surely lead to more sabotage – all while turning over the things that Aria and Pinkie had told her in her own head incessantly. But she didn’t know how to take care of her own issues and she didn’t know how to balance her desires for two opposing things. And she kept winding back around to the same conclusion she’d reached that cold December night: She couldn’t. The silence that settled over the girls as they filed out of the gymnasium was crushing. Never mind the booing and jeering from their schoolmates before they had even left – this was heavier, more nauseating. It wasn’t friendship and harmony that had seen them through, it was dumb luck. It was the victory they had been seeking, but not the way they had wanted. It felt more like a loss. The girls slowly loosened their single-file formation, but kept their individual distances. Rainbow lead them off, but even being behind her, Pinkie couldn’t reach her arms out far enough to touch her if she tried. To her right, Applejack walked with crossed arms and Rarity avoided everyone else’s gaze. To her left and slightly behind, Fluttershy held onto a single arm, and Twilight stared wide-eyed at the ground, notebook in arms, Spike trailing along at her side. Even further behind, Sunset dragged herself along, not daring to lift her head. Pinkie could practically hear her hair deflating. Everything was just confusing and wrong. Sonata’s words had echoed in Pinkie’s mind all day – leave your band – and for a frightening moment, she thought maybe she wouldn’t have to. Maybe they’d finally torn themselves apart – and even when that moment had passed, even with the verdict of moving onto the final round, Pinkie still wasn’t sure that they hadn’t. Of course this was wrong. This was getting by on an incomplete song, a wrecked set, a public show of dissonance between the seven of them. This was fighting a battle they hadn’t rightfully earned for the virtue of . . . something ironically moralistic. Something ironically moralistic that pulled at Pinkie’s insides like they were saltwater taffy that’d been put in the fridge to cool; it was good to pull and stretch it out to be its best when cooled at room temperature, but with the chill, it just became brittle and broke apart. She was afraid that she was getting close to that brittleness. Even though she’d told Sonata she wouldn’t abandon her friends, Pinkie worried about what this competition was doing to them. She worried about what it was doing to her. She’d done and felt things in the past few days she wasn’t proud of. She’d snapped at them and she’d held resentment for the way things were handled in the band. Maybe she’d already hit that brittleness. Pinkie lifted her head as they approached the storage room the Rainbooms had been using for their practise sessions and fell back in the procession, watching the forlorn faces of her friends pass her by. Maybe they all had. “All right, let’s get our stuff and get out of here,” Rainbow said as she opened the door with a sigh. “Maybe by the time we clear out, everyone will be gone from the gym so we can get our instruments.” “Yeah, an’ whose bright idea was it to leave without ‘em?” Applejack rolled her eyes. “Try all of ours?” Rainbow turned around to face Applejack. “We were booed off stage, and we weren’t even playing anymore!” “And now I gotta find a new set of tom-toms,” Pinkie lamented. “You wouldn’t’a needed anythin’ if Rarity didn’t knock me over!” Rarity gasped. “You know perfectly well that I had no malicious intent! If you’ll recall, I was ‘knocked over’ too!” “I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered. “Darling, please, you would have never lost your balance in the first place if only Rainbow Dash had paid more attention.” “And I never would have knocked Twilight over if Sunset Shimmer hadn’t—” “Why don’t I go get your instruments?” Sunset interrupted, finally looking up at the other girls. “I’ll put everything in the car and come get you guys when I’m done.” She turned and left without waiting for anyone’s agreement. Pinkie watched her go while the rest of her friends entered the room, and for a moment, she stood still – an unusual feat for her – her insides like a tangle of thick caramel and pulled-apart taffy and sticky strands of cotton candy, and even though she loved those things by themselves, all together, it was an unpleasant mess she didn’t like the feeling of and didn’t know how to clean up. That wasn’t entirely true: she did know, after a long, restless night of thinking and meditating and turning over all the torn-up streamers and confetti and tissue paper in her head, the first step would be to talk to Sonata again, but she didn’t know where to start and couldn’t bring herself to even text her. So she might as well be back at not knowing how to clean it up. “Um, Pinkie Pie? Are you coming?” She started to turn her head toward Fluttershy’s voice, but something caught her eye and stopped her. “Uhhhh.” Pinkie waved her hand slightly behind her, not sure if she was actually waving at Fluttershy or at the wall. “I’ll be right there.” She sprinted down the hall, turning the corner and coming to an abrupt stop just behind it. Leaning against it, Pinkie curved her torso ever so slightly and peeked around the edge of the wall to see Sonata standing in the adjacent hall. Or, more specifically, to see all three of the Dazzlings standing in the adjacent hall. Sonata was too far to reach over and grab without alerting the other two sirens, but Pinkie knew if she didn’t talk to her now, she might never bring herself to, and so she had to come up with another plan – and fast. She felt around her sides, forgetting that her chosen outfit for the day didn’t come with pockets, and then reached up to her hair, finding a bobby pin tucked into a curl. Turning again, Pinkie closed a single eye, took aim, and flung the pin. “Ow!” Sonata reached a hand up to rub the back of her head as she glanced behind her. Pinkie forced a smile and waved frantically – and then pulled herself back behind the corner again as the other two Dazzlings turned, too. She heard a flat voice first. “What was that?” Pinkie didn’t recognise the voice, and there was only one member of the Dazzlings whose speaking voice she didn’t recognise: the always-grumpy-looking-with-arms-crossed-wearing-star-barrettes girl. Then she heard Sonata. “Uhh, I just remembered! I have a . . . thing . . . that I left in . . . the classroom.” Star-barrettes girl— no, wait, wasn’t her name Aria? Yeah, Aria— answered: “You said ow for that?” “Uh, yeah! ‘Cause I just . . . hate losing stuff. Ow.” Pinkie sighed. “What classroom?” asked a third voice. “School’s been over for hours.” Of course, she knew that voice: the same one that always did all the talking, belonging to the girl who was always front and centre, sporting a spiky headband that precariously held in place imposingly large, curly orange hair – Adagio. Sonata, stammering: “You know, the – home ec.! Classroom! The home ec. classroom. Yeah! I’ll catch up with you two, okay!” Adagio, warningly: “Sonata Dusk—” Aria, dismissively: “Might as well let her go. She’s just gonna keep being weird anyway.” A long pause, and Pinkie held her breath until she heard Adagio speak again. “Don’t take too long. We have a lot to do before tomorrow.” “Okay! See ya!” Pinkie heard a heavy sigh and footsteps before she saw Sonata turn the corner and stop in front of her. She didn’t say anything, only motioned for the two of them to go somewhere else, and Pinkie gladly complied. ·✫✫✫· The cafeteria had long been deserted for the day by students and staff alike, making a perfect hideaway for the two of them. Doors closed, chairs bypassed, and seats taken atop a table, Pinkie and Sonata sat together, silent but not entirely uncomfortable, though a mutual question lingered in the air between them. Sonata was the one to finally ask it. “So . . . you’re not mad at me?” Pinkie shook her head slightly – then stopped – then shrugged. “I’ve been thinking a lot since yesterday,” she said, looking down and tracing a seam in her skirt. “And at first, I kinda was a little angry, but . . . then I realised maaaybeee you using your siren voice magic wasn’t too different than me wanting to use Twilight’s magic to make you and your friends un-evil—uh, no offense—” Sonata giggled. “—so I mean . . . it wasn’t okay, but . . . I guess we’re both kind of in the wrong here, huh?” “Yeeaaahh, I guess. But I am evil. You’re not.” “Oh, come on,” Pinkie laughed. “You’re not thaaaat evil.” Sonata feigned an insulted gasp, lifting a hand to her chest. “I so am! Like, evil enough some old guy with this gross unattractive beard had to banish me here! Helllllooo? Super evil.” “Weeellll, maybe you’re a little evil.” “Nope, totally a lot evil.” “Okay, fine.” Pinkie paused before adding, with a grin, “But mostly adorable.” Sonata considered this, then nodded. “Sure. I’ll take adorable and evil.” “Me too,” Pinkie replied, leaning over to pull Sonata into a kiss – a soft, lingering kiss, reluctant to pull away and lose the feeling again – and she held a hand to Sonata’s face, Sonata’s resting over hers, sharing in her reluctance to let go. Even after Pinkie sat back, her hand idled, and she smiled at Sonata – then lowered her hand slowly, brushing it along Sonata’s hair and down her arm, taking her hand. Sonata looked down at their hands, then back up at Pinkie, laughing. “Heeeyy, aren’t you usually working around now?” “I took the day off,” Pinkie said with a small smile. “For the competition.” “Oh. Y’know, I get the worst cravings for cookies at this time on Fridays.” “Well, that’s not my fault! Wait. I guess it kinda is.” Pinkie giggled – then let her breath out – then looked down at Sonata’s hand, running her thumb along Sonata’s fingers gingerly, silently – and finally, spoke again. “I’ve . . . been thinking about everything else, too.” “Me too,” Sonata said quietly. “I think we’ve probably been thinking the same thing.” “There aren’t a lot of other conclusions, huh?” “Not really.” Pinkie lifted her eyes again, smiling again despite the sadness she felt. “And it’s for the best, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” Sonata said, lowering her own eyes. “I really don’t want to change you—” “—and I don’t wanna change you—” “—and I don’t want to change your relationships with your friends if you really do love them that much—” “—or yours—” “So we’re kinda sunk, huh?” Sonata laughed dejectedly. Pinkie exhaled and nodded, lifting her free hand to rub against her eyes as tears welled up in them. Sonata took the hand away, holding it mid-air, still smiling at her as she told her sometimes it’s better just to let it out – and so Pinkie did. She let out the pent-up vexations, the strain of a barely held-together band, the distress of fighting with her own friends, the pain of letting go of someone she loved so dearly, the emptiness in knowing that they’d done all they could do and now mutually agreed they’d reached a dead end; she let it out and cried and Sonata pulled her close and cried, too, and just as she’d said, it was cathartic and healing, even if some of the pain lingered. And after some time, Sonata lifted her head from Pinkie’s shoulder. “Hey,” she whispered, running a hand down Pinkie’s back. “You gotta promise not to take it easy on us tomorrow just ‘cause I’m there, okay? I’ve seen you banging on that drum so I’ll definitely know if you’re not giving your all ‘cause sometimes I think you’re gonna like—” she giggled despite a stifled breath “—b-break it or something.” Pinkie laughed wetly, sobs still tingeing her voice. “You’d better not either, silly. I’ve heard you sing, so I’ll know ‘cause you . . . have a nice voice and . . . and I wanna hear you singing up there and . . .” “And—And you gotta promise that you won’t hate me for whatever happens.” “Only if you promise you won’t hate me.” “I promise! If—If you swear you won’t.” “I swear! I solemnly swear. I . . .” Pinkie pulled away from Sonata, wiping her eyes. “I Pinkie Pie swear.” Unfisting her hand, Pinkie held it over her chest as she recited: “Cross my heart—” and motioned to the space at her side “—hope to fly—” and finally covered an eye with her hand “—stick a cupcake in my eye.” Sonata slowly lifted her own palm over her eye and pushed a smile. “Me too.” And then she paused and lowered her hand down. “So . . . now what?” Pinkie shrugged – then gave a small smile. “Just ‘cause tomorrow’s the big showdown doesn’t mean we can’t go on one last date. You know, lucky number seven! Unless yesterday counts. But that wasn’t so lucky. Maybe that was like six and a half. But we didn’t really finish number six, either . . .” “But where are we gonna go where no one will see us?” Sonata frowned. “You know like everyone, don’t you? And, uh . . . now enough people know me, too, and it’s totally not gonna be good for either of our bands if we’re . . .” she trailed off and sighed. “Yeaaaahh, I gueesss that’d be a problem,” Pinkie said slowly as she slid off the table, smile slowly turning into a grin. “Hey, can you sing for me again?” “You want me to sing?” Sonata lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah!” Pinkie grinned wider. “I’m immune to it anyway, right? So it’s harmless! I mean, as long as you aren’t, like, trying to make me do what you want. But, uh . . . sing something upbeat. No sad songs. Got it?” Sonata was quiet, holding a hand to her mouth as she looked down at her lap – and then she recalled the song off the radio that she’d been so infatuated with some months ago, the song she’d sang giddily in her room while getting ready to take Pinkie to the winter carnival – and feeling the intoxication anew, she began to sing, her voice echoing crisply in the empty cafeteria— —and Pinkie pulled her off the table and to her feet, causing a momentary jar in the melody before Sonata found her voice again as Pinkie held fast to her hands, dancing her around the vacant aisles as if they had no tomorrow to worry about, as if there was nothing but the two of them and Sonata’s voice and Pinkie’s dancing – and for that moment, that’s all there was; two girls in love, giddy with the dizziness of youth, enthralled with the magic of life— —and the streamers swayed from the ceiling and the tissue paper was packed snugly into the gift bags and the confetti flew through the air and the tide pulled at just the right times and the waves crashed to shore with flawless rhythm and the current kept a steady syncopation and everything was perfect.