I feel the orange glow of sunrise over my eyes. A new day begins, a new day in a new life. I turn around in my bed and open my eyes, and rise out of bed. Today is the day of reckoning. Time to shed away this costume I wear, and reveal myself to the prying eyes of the world.
Perhaps I am being a bit overdramatic. Still, I can't help but feel as if the world itself had been lifted from my shoulders. I turn around, and look at my mirror. At times a dear friend, at times my worst enemy, today it's function would be one of purification.
I look at myself in the mirror. My mane and my tail are much longer than what is usual for wearing a tuxedo. The fashion show is many hours away, and yet as I stare into the eyes of my reflection, I feel that the mirror's image lies to me. The pony in the mirror is not Rarity. I am going to fix that.
Covered in a light blue glow, a pair of scissors floats aside my head. I pull a strand of my mane between the blades of the scissors, and with a snip, the scissors close as a purple strand of hair falls to the floor. I take a deep breath, and continue cutting my mane. I finish, and as I look at the stallion cut I gave to my mane, I can't help but think: It looks so nice on me. And why why wouldn't it?
That is what I am, after all.
I turn around and look at my tail, floating scissors at it's side, and, after a quick measure, the scissors snip and half of my tail falls to the floor. Carefully, I shape the strands of my hair to a more even look.
I'm ready. It is time to come clean.
I'm not ready yet.
Warm. The cool morning breeze was gone as soon as I entered through the doors of Sugar Cube Corner, and the heat that came from the oven, coupled with the smell of the pastries that came from it, made the air pleasantly warm for most ponies. Most ponies don't wear cloaks, though. I appear as a mysterious figure, keeping his identity hidden except for those whom he wishes to know, like a character out of a mystery novel. Still, the cloak is quite warm. I had fashioned it for last winter, which was so horribly cold, it's chill stabbed like a knife through regular winter clothes. Right now, it makes me feel as if I had a horrendous fever.
At last, my turn comes and I walk to the counter, and as I walk, I feel her gaze on me. Pinkie Pie looks at me with a friendly, if curious, smile on her face. She doesn't recognize me.
"Hello, mister! Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner! What can I get you?"
Grrr... In my haste to prepare for the events of this evening, I had forgotten to break my fast, and so this visit served a double purpose.
"Good morning, Pinkie."
"Rarity! What are you doing?! It's like 25 degrees in here! Mister Thermometer told me, and he doesn't lie! Why are you wearing a cloak?"
"Pinkie, I-"
"Oh, I know! Your brush broke and you can't show your mane!"
"No, darling. I-"
"Let me try again... You're playing Hide and Seek with Sweetie Belle!"
"No, I-"
"Wait! Your plumbing started to throw green water at you again! No, that can't be it. You don't-"
"Pinkie Pie!"
She looks at me with those huge blue irises of hers, the corners of her lips drooping. I can't be mad at her. It would arise my curiosity if I saw her wearing a cloak in this heat, too.
"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that, but I-"
"No, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I kept interrupting you when you tried to speak! And I just did it again! Can you forgive me, Rarity."
"Yes, Pinkie. I forgive you. There is something I have to ask you."
"What do you need, Rarity?"
"Are you free this evening?"
"I am. Mister and Missis Cake are closing early today. Around one o'clock."
I let go a sigh of relief.
"Can you help me gather everypony at the Castle? There is something I must tell you all, together."
"Of course I can! Is that why you're wearing a cloak?"
"Yes, it is. We shall meet at two o'clock."
I turn around and start walking to the doors.
Grrr...
I turn around to Pinkie again.
"Actually, can I have a biscuit, some honey, and tea, please?"
I pant as I walk through the door frame. How I managed to walk all the way from there to here without having a heat stroke, I shall never know. I take off my cloak, now smelling of sweat, and walk to the table. I float a bag and a foam cup over the table as I push a chair to the table with my hooves. As I sit, I levitate a plate and float the biscuit over it.
“...Rarity? What happened to your mane?” I hear Sweetie Belle say.
...I forgot.
"Did you hear me?"
That was today. Sweetie Belle was visiting today. How did she get in? This isn't good, I'm not ready I'mnotreadyimnotready...
"Are you okay, sister?"
The word snaps my mind out of my trance. Sister. I feel a tear run down my eye. It's okay, she doesn't know yet, I tell myself, yet I am unable to stop.
"Why are you crying?"
I sigh and try to hold back the tears, and speak.
"I'm crying because there's something I must tell you. I'm not a mare anymore. I didn't realize it until not long ago, but I never was one."
"...what?"
"I'm a stallion, sister."
Her face speaks of confusion, but as I continue speaking, some measure of comprehension appears. I tell her about everything, seemingly unable to stop myself. I tell her about the agonizing months when I was unable to embrace the truth about me. I tell her about my fear of rejection, of how everypony will react when I tell them about myself. I tell her to go upstairs, and show her the tuxedo I made for me to wear at the fashion show. But above all, I cry. I'm not capable of holding back the bottled up feelings anymore.
"It's okay, Rarity. Calm down. Everything's going to be fine." She tells me as I finish. She hugs me, and I weep on her shoulder.
"How can you be so sure? I must seem disgusting, like I'm trying to be something I can never be. How can you be so sure everything will be fine?"
She holds me tighter.
"Because I know that instead of losing a sister, I gained a brother."