Moondancer walked into her small home and closed the door with a morose sigh. She'd just gotten back from the party she'd thrown. The one that She hadn't deigned to attend. She dumped her books on the couch, promising herself she'd pick them up later, and staggered towards the stairs, her hooves thumping an uneven rhythm into the floorboards. Celestia, she was tired. Parties were never really her thing to begin with since they always left her feeling drained rather than elated afterwards, but as her Mom had always said, "If you want to make a friend, throw a party or attend." The cheesiness of it had made Moondancer groan whenever her mother said it, but that didn't stop it from being true.
As she passed by the kitchen, she paused in the doorway, considering getting a snack before bed. Her stomach protested loudly, still gorged on the excess of food she'd put out in expectation of additional guests, and she quickly decided against it. As she walked up the stairs, the faded sections on the walls where paintings should have been hung leapt out at her like snowballs against the slush colored wallpaper. Each one used to have a portrait, before the pony it belonged to had moved away. Stopping at the top of the stairs, Moondancer gazed exhaustedly at the five remaining pictures. Her five remaining friends, or at least ponies she wanted to be friends with.
Minuette. Twinkleshine. Lemon Hearts. Lyra Heartstrings. Twilight Sparkle. Moondancer's horn glowed, and Twilight's picture, a snapshot taken of her with her nose in a book, completely unaware of the camera, glowed in a matching hue, and floated slightly off the wall. It hung there in space, rocking up and down like a ship on calm seas, the bobbing something Moondancer had never understood about levitation. With a sigh, Moondancer released her grip, and the picture fell back into place, only this time slightly askew. Feeling less than motivated to straighten it, Moondancer entered her room and collapsed on her bed. Rolling over onto her stomach, she gazed out the window for a long minute before she slowly closed her eyes. This didn't change anything, she thought to herself, she'd try again tomorrow. It wasn't like Twilight was going anywhere.
88888888
The door to Moondancer's house slammed open and shut in the space of two seconds, allowing entrance for only a single mare before shutting out the voices pursuing her. Moondancer, the mare in question, ran up the stairs, not even bothering to take her saddlebags off, past her neat and clean living room, the freshly scrubbed kitchen, the dusted portraits, over the mopped floors and swept carpets, and sank into the comforter her mother had made for her as a going away present.
She didn't mean to start crying, but that's what happened, the salty drops of water trailing over her bedspread. Why? That was the only question she could handle at the moment, as it had driven out all others. Why would she do this? Why would she go away? Why would she just leave without saying a word? Without as much as a note?
Moondancer already knew the answer, although she was reluctant to admit it. Twilight simply didn't care. She was always busy, even when Celestia hadn't given her something special. Always reading, much like Moondancer, only she was even less interested in making friends. And so she'd left, just moved to a distant town without looking back. And now Twilight would never know. She'd never know just how important she was to a pony she'd barely even spoken to.
Moondancer lay there for an unknown amount of time, although it was long enough that the voices at her front door had given up and gone away. Finally all cried out, Moondancer stood, and walked into the hallway, tripping slightly over the threshold. Staring up at the picture of Twilight, her eyes red and puffy, Moondancer, pouted, then scowled, then glared, then finally let out a scream of rage and ripped the picture from the wall, snapping the string suspending it from the nail. The frame crumpled in her magic, then burst into flames, although the picture itself was unmarked as Moondancer had enchanted it to be fireproof, in addition to a lot of other things. She vented her anger on the effigy of her hopes and dreams, ramming the poor image into the walls and ceiling, before she galloped to her desk and prepared to slam it into the garbage.
It hovered just above the trash can for one second, then two, then ten, before Moondancer sighed, tossed the piece of paper into the corner of her closet, and locked the door. Her anger spent, she went out into the hallway and started taking down the other pictures. She'd given friendship a try, and something much more than that, and the heart she'd offered up for approval had been dropped on the ground, walked on, and then had dirt scuffed over it like it was a piece of solid waste. If She didn't want Moondancer's friendship, then Moondancer had no friendship to give.
88888888
Moondancer let out a grunt of disgust and slammed the door in her former friends faces. She stomped across the floor into the kitchen, being careful to avoid the scorch marks, dents, and stains she'd never felt like cleaning up. Why were they bothering her again, hadn't she made it clear she wasn't interested? And hadn't Twilight made it clear she didn't care either? It didn't make sense. Pulling open the icebox, she took one look inside and slammed it shut again. Oh yeah, there was a reason she always ate out. Instead, she grabbed an apple off the counter that was still mostly good and sat on her couch. That one spring in the rightmost cushion poked up into her rear, and she shifted about in an attempt to get comfortable.
Taking a bite of apple and spitting out the bad piece she'd accidentally stuck in her mouth, Moondancer stared at the wall of her living room. The blank, empty wall. It had silhouettes where paintings used to hang, but each one had been sold over the course of the year to fund her studying. She knew she had to get a job at some point, but books kept her mind occupied, away from thoughts best not thought about. A pang of loneliness echoed through her heart and out into the room, bouncing off the empty chairs, the dirty carpets, the cobweb infested corners. She used to keep this place scoured clean, but after Twilight had, well... you know, she just couldn't find the energy. By Celestia, she needed a book.
Pulling her latest acquisition out of her saddlebags, she settled in to read. Whenever she read, she might not feel happy, she hadn't managed to catch that elusive emotion in a long time, but at least she was numb. Numbness was always better than pain.
88888888
Moondancer opened the door with her hoof, as she was too tired to use magic, sticking it neatly through the hole Twilight had punched when she'd come back a few days ago. For the first time in over a year, Moondancer was smiling, a soft, contented smile that implied all was right in her world more than that she'd just heard a funny joke. She wasn't wearing saddlebags full of books, not today, but she was carrying a box of leftover baked goods and a picture, both balanced smartly on her back.
She levitated the box into the kitchen and opened the icebox, then wrinkled her nose at the smell that wafted out. Her horn flared, and the gunk of a year's worth of rotted food and mold lifted out of the container and into the overflowing garbage, which was then taken to the dumpster. Her nose now satisfied with the cleanliness of the icebox, Moondancer placed the leftovers inside and closed the lid. Walking up the stairs, she hung the new picture on the wall outside her bedroom, then frowned, picked it up, and moved it to the right of her door, where she'd see it every day whenever she went out. It was good to be reminded of her friends, now that she could have them again, and it wouldn't do at all to slip back into the state she'd been in while Twilight was gone.
Returning to her room, she paused in front of her closet, the one she'd locked the day Twilight had left, then opened it and retrieved the picture she'd thrown away. It was a little crumpled, and slightly moldy in the bottom right corner, but still intact, and the time spent in the darkness had done nothing to dim the colors. Pulling a few stray pieces of wood out of her dustbin, she made a makeshift frame for the picture, and stuck it back on the wall outside her room. The other pictures she'd thrown out months ago, but this one she just couldn't let go. Now she was glad she hadn't. The smile she directed at the picture was warm, then dopy, before it turned sultry and she blushed heavily. With a quick shake of her head to drive the naughtiness away, she went out to fetch some cleaning supplies. She couldn't exactly invite Twilight over for dinner with her house a total wreck, and if she did she'd be way too embarrassed to even consider proposing what she'd just imagined. Now if only she could get rid of that dragon for the night...