//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: The Flaws of Perfection 
// by Calm Wind 
//------------------------------//

MLP: FiM
The Flaws of Perfection
By: Calm Wind
Chapter 4:





Rarity stepped into the room slowly and quietly, taking in her surroundings as she began closing the door behind her.  The library was small, maybe only a little larger than the room she was staying in. The ceiling was low and there were no windows, rather the entire wall, all four sides were lined with bookshelves, even the walls that flanked and ran above the door she had just stepped through. The lights were off, the only light in the room coming from a large, red brick fireplace on the wall opposite of the door that reached up to the ceiling and beyond, marking the only place on the wall that wasn’t a bookshelf.

The fire crackled and popped as its dim, warm glow shone upon a large comfy chair that sat around five yards from it. The chair had a tall back rest, but the flickering glow of the fire caused a large waving shadow to be cast along the ground, extending all the way to Rarity’s hooves on the other side of the room. There were two more chairs, on each side of the one in the center, but both were significantly smaller, appearing even more so than they truly were as the glow from the fire shone mostly on the large center chair, leaving the other two in the shadows.

Beside the chair was a table over which a glass filled with brandy and ice floated within a light blue magic aura, turning and tipping very slightly to cause the contents of the glass to swirl around. The glass hovered in front of the chair and a small sip was heard before it returned to its position above the table. Below the glass, on the table itself, was a half full bottle of fine brandy. Although, judging by the nature of the situation and the state of the stallion drinking it, the bottle was more likely half empty.

The glass began moving towards the chair again, but it froze in place as the light shift and click of the door closing behind Rarity broke the singular ambience of the crackling fire.

“Whoever it is, leave,” Fancy’s voice came from around the chair before the glass quickly hovered over and a few gulps were heard. Shortly after, the bottle of brandy was surrounded in his magic before lifting up, and started pouring himself a new glass.

“Fancy, it’s Rarity,” Rarity spoke, surprised she was able to so quickly. The bottle tipped back up, leaving the glass partially full for a moment before continuing the pour and setting down on the table.

“And how does that make a difference?” he said in a rather cold tone. Rarity felt her chest tighten slightly, but she was aware of the circumstances. Fancy’s manner was distorted by a mix of his drink and his recent slip ups. She made a mental note that anything he said was likely being emotionally prompted. She wasn’t one to keep her composure under pressure, so it’s not like she expected him to.

She decided to cut right to the chase. She had to approach this like Fancy would: Firmly, and directly. No beating around the bush.

“Fancy… I saw the argument in the office,” she began, while mentally preparing herself for a backlash. “And I saw what happened right after as well.”

The glass stopped swirling lightly. The quiet clinking of the ice clattering around within the glass ceased, leaving the crackling of the fireplace as the only sound to be heard. The glass quickly shifted in front of the chair and remained out of sight for a few moments.

“Ah…” she heard Fancy sigh before the glass hovered out, completely empty, and was placed on the table. Rarity cringed as she saw the glass. Brandy was not a weak drink and Fancy just downed a whole glass. She could only imagine how much that burned his throat.

However, her attention was quickly drawn as Fancy’s magic surrounded the smaller comfy chair to the right of Fancy and it slid out of the shadows, stopping near the center chair. Fancy’s hoof appeared from around his chair and pointed at it.

“Sit down,” he ordered.

Rarity hesitated, taking a moment to wonder if it was a good or bad thing. Did he want to sit down and talk? Or was he about to chew her out. She had no idea what was going to happen, but she couldn’t suddenly back out, so she shakily stepped towards the chair. She held her breath as she passed beside Fancy’s chair, finally getting a look at him.

Fancy was in a dreadful state. Hardly the handsome image of confidence and cheer he always appeared as around others. He sat back in the chair, facing straight forward at the fire. He wasn’t wearing his suit, his mane was an absolute mess, and his expression was that of a broken stallion as the dim glow from the fire splashed and flickered upon his face.

His eyes remained forward, but Rarity’s were locked on him as she slowly found her way to the seat and sat down. The two said nothing, sitting in the low illumination of the fire in silence for minutes. Upon closer inspection, Fancy seemed to be swaying slightly, which didn’t surprise Rarity because he had consumed a good amount of hard liquor. She was worried he may already be too drunk for anything she may say to be remembered.

“Well?” Fancy spoke up, making Rarity flinch and her ears stand up. “Tell me,” he said in a surprisingly controlled voice. Fancy seemed to have quite an alcohol tolerance to speak smoothly after so much brandy. “What did you see in my study?” he asked.

Rarity was caught off guard by the question. She saw it. Didn’t that imply she knew what happened? Unless he was asking for a different reason. She decided to humor him. After all, she had already managed to get more out of him than his own wife. Perhaps Fleur was just as perceptive as her husband, knowing what was best for him as he did her.

“I…” Rarity found her voice. “I saw you and a another pony arguing over something that didn’t quite go as—”

“Wrong,” Fancy cut her off, causing Rarity to slam her mouth shut. “What you saw was a failure.”

The room grew silent again, the crackling fire seemingly dominating their conversation as they continued to take such long pauses. Fancy sighed as his magic came to life and grabbed the bottle of brandy. Rarity felt the need to reach out with her own magic and stop him, but every fiber of her being told her that would end incredibly poorly.

“You saw me fail to convince somepony of my skills, reliability, and devotion to my work,” he poured himself a glass and brought it to his lips, taking a small sip, and licking his lips as he swallowed the strong liquor. “This is a fight I’ve been fighting my whole life behind closed doors, Rarity. Behind every smile, every generous act, ever public appearance… behind everything that I do is a pony who is scared and nervous,” he confessed.

Rarity found any and all doubt in her mind about where she sat to disappear. He was spilling everything to her.

“I live in the shadow of a pony who was fifty times the stallion I will ever be. My father, the most successful business pony of his generation… and I struggle every day to be a fraction of who he was,” he glanced at Rarity as he took another sip, making eye contact for the first time. “Rarity, I will never live up to my Father’s legacy. I have been constantly overlooked by his former business partners, written off as wasted potential. I’m constantly criticized for my methods, being told I’m an amateur or foolish. I’ve had my share of success, I have mastered many arts and practices, but I feel like I’m surrounded by those who are superior to me in what matters most. I will forever be inadequate it in my field.”

Rarity’s eyes had never widened more in her life.

Inadequate…

Overlooked…

Wasted potential…

Forever in the shadows of those superior…

These were ALL things… that Rarity had been feeling in the past month with the fashion show. To hear the same woes come from a pony she admired more than anypony else was… very humbling. Fleur was right… Rarity could definitely relate to him in this instance.

Fancy took another sip of his drink before slumping into his chair. Rarity wanted to say something. She wanted to help, but what could she say or do?

Then she had an idea. It may have been a long shot, but it seemed like the only way. She took one look at the brandy and instantly ruled it out. She was certain that would end poorly, but upon examining the room some more, she found what she was looking for.

A small wine cabinet, beside a table near the door. She could only see it because the light of the fire barely shone upon it from beyond Fancy’s chair. She concentrated her magic, opening the cabinet, pulling out a random bottle, and hovering it towards her while splitting her magic into two separate actions to grab a glass, hovering both towards her.

Fancy glanced at the bottle of red wine as it landed on the table beside his brandy.

“Oh,” Rarity blinked. “If you don’t mind…” she said, realizing it may have been a bit brash of her to try and drink his wine without asking.

Fancy simply waved a hoof once at her.

“It’s better than drinking alone,” he said before going back to his own drink. Rarity took that as a yes and poured herself a glass of wine. It was a red wine, but it was too dark to read the label on the bottle. Upon smelling the contents of the glass, Rarity picked up the scent of Pinot Noir. That was perfect. She poured more into the glass, creating quite a generous serving. She felt this was a rather irresponsible method, but she needed to loosen up, and once she did, she was more than certain she’d say to him what he needed to hear. As it stood, she was way too nervous to even speak after Fancy revealed such personal matters to her.

Knowing she was a lightweight. Rarity took a rather large sip of the wine,taking down what she would usually down in four to five sips. She swallowed and winced heavily as the bitterness of the wine stung her taste buds. She looked up at Fancy and saw him simply sitting, facing the fire, and swirling his drink as he had been. The liquid confidence had to work faster. The longer she waited, the more likely he’d get to a point where he’d forget the whole night. He seemed to have an incredibly strong tolerance.

Steeling her taste buds, Rarity took another large sip, and another, and another. Her glass now less than half full with a generous pour. She took a couple deep breaths as she sat back. She felt nothing yet, but she would definitely feel it soon.

“I don’t know why I try Rarity…” Fancy suddenly spoke up again, a very faint, but very noticeable slur in his words. Why was it noticeable? Fancy always talked with very refined speech. If anything was off, one could easily hear the difference.

“I inherited my bits, I drive to be as great as my father, and I try taking things further, explore opportunities and potential my father would have never considered…”

As Rarity listened she started feeling a little warmer. That was fast, but then again, she did chug half a large helping of wine. She started taking smaller sips, now that she knew it was working.

“Yet I’m criticized…” he started up again. “Torn down, and berated for taking risks. My father was constantly praised for doing the same thing… I simply do not know Rarity. How did my father do it?”

His tone was one of slow rambling. He didn’t even look at her. But that was fine because she didn’t feel the need to reply, at least immediately.

The minutes rolled on…

And it wasn’t long before Rarity felt a lot less nervous and a lot more relaxed. It came on pretty quickly, having taken down the wine so fast, but her head was filled with a warm, slightly euphoric sensation. With it came a few moments of alcohol induced clarity. She no longer looked upon Fancy as a superior, she began looking at him as somepony that needed her help. In her normal state of mind she would have called herself crazy, but being a little tipsy and having the feeling steadily increased the built up needed confidence to reply. Rarity soon found herself smiling, and her face blushing lightly from the warm tingling feeling all over. She had to be careful. She wanted to relax and loosen up, but she didn’t want to go overboard and suddenly be unable to form a reasonable sentence. That would be a disaster.

Fancy finished the contents of his glass grabbed the bottle of brandy again.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing… it’s in my nature to be kind and generous. Is that so wrong?”

“DAAAAARLING!” Rarity suddenly said in a very loud tone that was one decibel short of shouting. Fancy nearly dropped the bottle from his magic as he flinched and looked towards Rarity. She put a hoof up to her mouth to stifle a very light, feminine burp, before looking at him, one eye open wider than the other.

Okay maybe taking down the alcohol so fast wasn’t the best idea, especially because she wasn’t sure what the alcohol content was in the wine, but she had gotten to a point where she could speak much more freely and that was what she was going for.

“Hm! Pardon me…” she giggled while gently tipping her glass back and forth. “Please Fancy, doing things wrong? You talk like you’re the one at fault!” she leapt right out of the gate. “Would I be sitting here right now? Drinking your EXPEEEEENSIVE wine if you hadn’t come to Ponyville and given me the chance to BE somepony?”

Danger. Danger. Getting drunk faster than expected. Rarity was losing control, but far from blacking out. This was either going to work or fail miserably. Luckily she was falsely confident enough to keep going with it.

“So what if a few plothurt snobs can’t take how great you are!” Rarity paused and took a large drink from her glass, her taste buds thoroughly tamed and barely feeling it. “You don’t need them! They’re all sorry idiots for not seeing it!”

She looked back towards him and froze in place. Fancy was looking at her and GLARING. Even in her super-buzzed, borderline drunk state the glare affected her.

That was it, she goofed… hard. But then—

“Heh…” Fancy suddenly smirked. “Hehahaha…” he chuckled. “Haha! HAHAHA!!!” he put down his glass and took a moment to laugh. Rarity smiled weakly, hoping that was a good thing.

Fancy wobbled and leaned… rather, fell onto the side of the chair, clearly a bit inebriated himself.

“Dammit, Rarity… do you have any idea how refreshing it was to hear somepony say that about some of my associates?” he said with a smile.

“Umm… very?” Rarity faked the smile further.

“Extraordinarily!” Fancy yelled as he fell back into his seat and grabbed his drink. “I do what I do because I feel it is right… and it’s been successful!” He reached over and pounded the table beside him. “AND THEY CRITISIZE ME! They just can’t admit I might be onto something!”
He still sounded angry, but his manner had changed.

“Of course!” Rarity leaned forward, quickly putting a hoof down to stop herself from tipping off the chair and falling face first. “You’re known Equestria wide for the way you are! Don’t let a few snot nosed, bit grabbers tell you otherwise! You’re loved!” she said while putting her glass up in the air roughly enough to cause a very light splash within it. A drop of wine landed on her leg, but unlike usually, she completely ignored the foreign stain to her white fur. “You’re doing fine! I’m the one that’s messing up! I mean…” Rarity stopped cold.

She hadn’t taken this into account. For a short time now, her own problems had taken a back seat. All it took was bringing it up once, and the alcohol suddenly felt like it was serving a different purpose.

“Oh… blast,” Rarity fell back in her chair. Fancy looked at her as if he was hoping she’d insult the idiots he worked with some more, but took note of her sudden change in demeanor.

“Rarity?” he asked while leaning forward on his second attempt. His first only moved him a couple of inches before he fell back against the seat. They were both starting the feel it, it seemed.

“I forgot how screwed I am!” Rarity wailed, using words she’d normally find uncouth while lightly while slumping.

“Um… may I ask why?” Fancy’s curiosity spoke for him.

“My dresses are all shit!” Rarity yelled while sitting up, only to lose her balance and fall back down.

A little voice in the back of her head was yelling, screaming, and pleading to her to shut up and stop shifting the issue from him to herself. But… alcohol… she didn’t really have much control.

“I dropped them off this morning and everypony else’s was so much better, and I’m just a novice designer who got lucky and I’ll never live up to your expectations and I’m gonna be laughed out of the shooooowwwwwwwwwwww!” Rarity whined while flailing her hooves about. Thankfully the wine was stable in her magic.

“I…. what?” Fancy blinked while trying to make sense of all the rambling he just heard. Rarity took a deep breath and held it, puffing her cheeks out until her face turned redder. When she didn’t breath for a good five seconds, Fancy instinctively used his magic to press her cheeks together and force her to exhale. She coughed a couple times before sighing and looking up.

“Er… sorry…” she suddenly apologized, her mane now a bit of a mess and loose strands falling down in front of her face. She managed to calm herself and struggled to sit up straight without wobbling.

“Looks like we’ve both been having our own issues recently…” Fancy chuckled. “But… Rarity, did you say your dresses were bad?” he asked.

“Worse than bad! They’re bad and worse! And worse… and bad!” Rarity slurred as she slammed the back of her head against the cushy backrest of the chair. “I’m trying to put my drab pieces of cloth up against designers like Silk Serenity and Ruby Rod! I might as well rub my face vigorously with sand paper before entering a beauty pageant! WHAT AM I DOING?!” Rarity finished while pounding the rest of her wine and coughing as a few drops went down the wrong pipe. Her ears shot up as she heard Fancy… snort? She looked up and saw Fancy stifling laughter?

“Rarity… really? You think you’re dresses are bad?” he chuckled. “Do you even look at your work?”

“Bwuuh?” was the only response Rarity could muster as she found her head to feel much lighter from the buzz.

“You’re dresses are BEAUTIFUL!” Fancy explained. “Why do you think I bought so many of them for my wife? I wouldn’t have entered you into the show if I didn’t think you had a chance. Besides,” he threw back a large portion of his drink. “Silk and Ruby have been making the same design for the past four years… frankly I’m tired of looking at it. I swear, everything you make is different. I’ve yet to see any bland consistencies in your style, you always wow me with something new.”

“But…” Rarity was confused… and drunk. “Muh dresses…” she didn’t know what to say, so only gibberish came out. She was still aware enough to talk and understand, but what was she hearing?

“Rarity…” Fancy sighed as he sat back in his chair. “I envy you,” he confessed.

“Me?” Rarity heard that loud and clear. How could Fancy possibly be envious of her?

“You have the perfect mindset… something I wish I could have,” Fancy continued. “What separates a good artist from great artist is how they view their work. A good artist is always proud of their work. A great artist is always ashamed of their work. You… are a great artist. You look at your work and you despise it. Therefore you are always pushing and striving to fix it, to make it better. You refuse to be satisfied. I think that’s my problem…” Fancy paused and shook his head. “I think I’m too content. I feel like the way I do things is, by default, perfect… and therefore I’m stuck where I am. I could learn quite a bit from you Rarity… I really could…”

No amount of alcohol could prevent Rarity from remembering those words he had just spoken. Each word was permanently etched into her brain.

A good artist is content.

A great artist is never content.

Even in his despair, Fancy found a way to influence her. But this time, it seemed like she found a way to influence him.

“Heh…” Fancy chuckled, looking towards Rarity with a smile. “Look at us… two ponies drowning in their troubles while trying to save the other at the same time,” he winked. “Rarity, you are a wonderful designer.”

“And you…” she pointed at him. “Are a wonderful businesspony,” she replied instantly.

The two smiled at each other, enjoying the feeling of relief that came from their talk as the glow of the fire continued to splash against them, slowly dying, but still strong enough to give off warmth and flicker a dim light to the corners of the room.

Fancy grabbed the bottle of brandy in his magic and held it up.

“I think we need another drink,” he suggested with a silly grin. Rarity giggled and grabbed the bottle of wine.

“Indeed!” she agreed, but pointed at Fancy. “But after we do… you need to apologize to Fleur young stallion!” she scolded him in a joking tone, referring to him as one would a colt even though he had eight years on her.

“You have my word,” he said while patting his chest. “That is the first order of business once this meeting is over,” he failed to keep a straight face as the two poured themselves another glass, hoping to enjoy each other’s company for a little longer. “To our imperfections…” he said as he held up his glass. Rarity held up her newly poured glass of wine and smiled. “May they never stop pushing us to greater things!”





Fleur paced back and forth outside the door. She had resisted the urge to put her ear to the door, wishing to respect their privacy and confident that Rarity could talk some sense into Fancy.

She flinched as the door suddenly opened and Rarity stumbled out, catching herself, before wiping out at Fleur’s hooves. Fleur looked at Rarity, confused at her state. Initially she was horrified that Rarity had gone in, only to join in the drinking… but then Rarity smiled at her between her loose mane strands that hung down over her face.

“Wasn’t… graceful…” Rarity slurred while giggling with her eyes twitching. “But heeeesh fine now…” she reached up and put her hooves on Fleur’s back. “Don’t worry… heeesh not as drunk as me… but he wantsh to sheee you!”

“Um… okay,” Fleur was a little confused.

“Come on in, my dear…” Fancy’s voice came from inside the library. As soon as Fleur heard that, her eyes opened wide and her ears stood up. She quickly stepped towards the door, causing Rarity to lose her balance and fall flat.

“Oh my!” Fleur turned around and helped Rarity to her hooves. Fleur smiled at the drunk Rarity and gave her a light hug. “I don’t know how you did it… but thank you, so much.”

“Oye! Where’s me beautiful wife?!” Fancy called again, earning a smirk and a giggle from Fleur. She smiled at Rarity before walking into the room and closing the door behind her.

Rarity barely registered that Fleur had just given her a hug before she stumbled over to the door and bounced off the wall beside it before putting her ear to the door.

All she heard was—

“I’m so sorry, my dear,” Fancy’s voice sounded slightly choked up.

“Shhh… don’t worry,” Fleur replied.

“Shuckshesh!” Rarity said to herself as she pushed away from the door and began stumbling down the hallway in the wrong direction.

One of the butlers spotted her as she started walking in circles and quickly made his way over.

“Um… miss Rarity, do you require some assistance?” he asked.

“Which way’s backwards?” she asked while bumping into him and started sliding down his chest. The butler blinked as he caught her, instantly smelling the wine on her breath.

“I think I should take you to your room…” he said as he helped her up. He yelped as she grabbed him around the neck and stared dreamily into his eyes.

“I think you should take me to your room! Waaaahaha!” she said as slumped down, putting all of her weight on him. The butler sighed and hoisted her back up again.

“I’m taking you back to your room…” he decided.

“Either room works!” Rarity persisted as he dragged her along. “We having fun there?!” she asked. The Butler shook his head.

“No, you’re drunk.”

“But whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?”





Rarity sighed as she walked through the third floor hall.

The stress was over. The show had ended, and she was looking forward to a few weeks of relaxing upon returning home. The whole ordeal had been physically and mentally taxing, but she got a chance to compete on the biggest fashion stage in Equestria.

She place ninth overall. Better than she expected she would do, but something about that number not being a one, a two, or even a three bothered her. In fact it was far below. She felt humbled by the extreme competition, but disappointed, feeling like she could have done better. Just as she and Fancy had drunkenly discussed.

She was, however, surprised that she finished above Silk Serenity and Ruby Rod. They didn’t even make the top ten. Perhaps Fancy was right about their styles being old news… and perhaps he was also right about her having more confidence in herself. Confidence… not content. Because she was thoroughly convinced now that not being content with her work was indeed a good thing.

However… the part of the experience that stuck out to her more than anything, was learning of Fancy’s imperfections. She didn’t think any less of him, nor did he lose any of his influence, but knowing he wasn’t as perfect as he seemed made him feel much more relatable. She felt less nervous about speaking to him or failing him now because she knew more about him… as if he were a good friend as well as her sponsor and supporter. She no longer felt like she was leaning on him, more like they were leaning on each other. That alone was enough to make her confidence soar.

She was back in her room… and had barely pulled out her luggage bag before a knock came from the door.

“Come in!” she called while placing her bag on the bed. The door opened, and there stood Fancy Pants himself. Normally she’d put on a smile and be cheerful even if she wasn’t, but the exhaustion prevented anything extravagant. “Oh, Fancy…”

In fact she was actually a little nervous. She saw him in the crowd when she peeked out towards the stage the models were walking on, but with all the hassle that happened afterward, she had yet to see him since the show ended. Coming in ninth wasn’t her idea of impressing him after all… and that was something she had been hard-pressed to do even with the newfound confidence.

“Getting ready to leave so soon?” he asked with a smile as he entered.

“Oh… just getting my things together now so I don’t have to later,” she explained. Fancy took a look at her bag as she turned and started picking up some of her supplies and tools.

“Might I convince you to stay for dinner at least?” he asked politely. Rarity blinked and turned to him.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask for more than you’ve already generously offered…” she tried turning him down. As much as she would love one more dinner fit for the goddesses, she felt she had imposed enough. That and she was still a little embarrassed about the night she got drunk, even if she did learn so much about Fancy in the process.

“But I must insist!” Fancy said with a chuckle as his magic flickered in his horn. A small aura surrounded his suit pocket and a folded up sheet of paper floated out. “I mean… I would think you’d like to celebrate your success and…” the paper unfolded and a feather quill “Your new advertising contract!” he smiled.

“Ad-ad-ad-ad-ad-ad-ad…” Rarity dropped her sewing machine, luckily on the bed as opposed to the floor as she stared wide eyed towards the piece of paper. “ADVERTISING?! ME?!” she pointed at herself while blinking in disbelief.

“Who else?” Fancy said, keeping his smile constant and unwavering.

“But…” Rarity was confused. Why would Fancy want an advertising contract with her? She finished NINTH in the show! How was that grounds for expanding her publicity? “But I placed ninth… why would you sign such a contract with me?”

“Rarity… dear…” Fancy stepped towards her and put a hoof on her shoulder. “You have no idea what you’ve done… have you?” he asked.

“Um…” Rarity bit her lip. “What… did… I do?”

“Placing anywhere in the top ten of the Canterlot Royal Wonder fashion show is considered to be an amazing feat! Only the top designers participate you know,” he said while winking at the speechless Rarity. “Face it, Rarity. You’ve made a mark among the best of the best! I’d be outside my mind if I were not to take advantage of this opportunity. You not only placed ninth, but I know you… and I know you have lots of potential yet to be unlocked. I want to be your personal advertising agent! We simply must get your name around the industry!”

“Uhhhhhh…” Rarity’s mouth hung open.

“So…” Fancy hovered the quill and the paper towards her. “Care to keep working with me?” he asked in a much more personal tone. “I believe there is much more we have yet to teach each other.”

Rarity looked like she was going to explode into happiness. An advertising contract?

Advertising?

Her?

ADVERTISING?!

HER?!

“WAAAHAHAHAHA!!!!!” she released her usual excitement guffaw, quickly throwing her hooves over her mouth and blushing like mad after Fancy flinched and his monocle fell off. “Ahah… I mean… yes! Yes! YES!” she cheered happily as Fancy smiled at his new, much more understanding business partner.

--- The End---