//------------------------------// // The Social Life Safety Net // Story: The Silver Standard // by PatchworkPoltergeist //------------------------------// “Okay… open your eyes!” The poster poured out of Diamond’s hooves, spilling over the picnic table like a red carpet. Or a blue and gold carpet, to be more precise. “Ta-daaa!” Silver Spoon gently moved the waxy paper’s edges from the mini toasts before the poster upset the raspberry jam. “Oh, a school talent show?” She hummed, a little smile teasing the corner of her mouth. “Interesting.” Watching their classmates fumble around onstage could be worth a couple of laughs. A few yards behind Diamond’s head, Snips and Snails struggled with a top hat, a carrot, and a very displeased white bunny. The miasmic trail of glitter and feathers surrounding them spread from the tetherball court to the sandbox. Silver chuckled under her breath. Quality entertainment and we don’t have to spend a single bit. Still, they could watch foals make idiots of themselves any old day. It didn’t seem to justify all that fuss Diamond made about Silver closing her eyes, unless… “You’re entering?” Diamond beamed. “Yep!” Good idea. An easy win was just the thing for Diamond after the cuteceañera disaster, not to mention good practice for pageant season. Silver plopped a sugar cube into her rose tea and gave it a quick stir. She peered over the edge of the table, where sketches and scribbled notes threatened to burst from Diamond’s Bleu Rondo. All week, Diamond picked at them through class lectures whenever Cheerilee wasn’t watching (and sometimes when she was). In art class this morning, she’d been so focused on her drawings she didn’t hear when it was time to put the crayons away. Hopefully, Diamond didn’t plan on a pageant routine. The unicycle act that won nationals was amazing… too amazing for just a little school talent show. Silver sipped her tea, watching the pegasus foals play skyball over the field. Featherweight caught the look and glanced down, missing the pass from Rumble. He frowned, big ears twitching nervously. Behind her teacup, Silver Spoon frowned. Rumble hovered in the corner of her eye, glaring down at afternoon teatime. This act needed a light touch, a win, not an annihilation. “So, do you know what your act’s going to be?” If it’s too extravagant, maybe I can whittle it down to something more manageable… a dance routine maybe. Diamond popped a couple of mini toasts in her mouth and added a couple more sugar cubes to her cup. It was more sugar than tea at this point. “Actually, I thought you could help me figure that part out. I mean, you’re pretty good at thinking up stuff and since you’re part of the act, it’s only fair that—” Little bubbles blorped in the tea as Silver fought down her cough. She gulped it down slowly, for fear of spitting it out. “Back up.” She set the cup down with a clink. “Did you say ‘we’?” Diamond’s smile grew as she nodded. “As in you…” Silver’s hoof trailed from the pink filly to herself and back again. “And me. Onstage.” “We’ll totally own it, too!” Her free hoof pulled her saddlebag into her lap. “Aren’t you excited?” “Uh.” This was supposed to be good news; Silver offered the bare minimum of a smile. Smiles made good cushions for bad news. Her hooves shuffled in her lap. “I am, but I’m not exactly the talent show type.” Diamond put her cup aside and tipped her saddlebag. An avalanche of material swamped her half of the table: crisp new music sheets, browning dance steps, a little black budget book, a sketchbook, a hardback copy of Equestria’s 50 Most Marvelous Monologues, and a notepad gone dark with names of plays, films, songs, vaudeville acts, musicals, revues, and the names of everypony who’d won a Hackney, Poni, or Canter award in the past ten years. Diamond Tiara gave the bag another shake. An extra layer of pastel sketches and scribbles tumbled over what remained of afternoon tea, all of possible outfits. Most of them seemed to be matching outfits; twin tuxedos, shiny jumpsuits, ruffled saddles, and sequin gowns. A roll of measuring tape plopped in the center of it all, the cherry to this pre-show sundae. Silver Spoon steepled her hooves and gave it all a long, long look. She clicked her tongue and flicked her eyes back to Diamond. “You signed me up already, didn’t you?” Diamond Tiara pulled the dimpled grin that got her out of classroom cleanup duty. “Miss Cheerilee was very excited. She said she’s really looking forward to our performance.” “Oh?” Silver eyed Cheerilee bandaging Archer’s leg by the swings. Diamond fluttered her eyelashes and twirled her mane. “She sure did. Told me it was good to see you coming out of your shell. She’d be so disappointed if you didn’t show up.” “Is that so?” Silver Spoon closed her eyes to savor the last sip of rose tea, warm and smooth against the chilly nip of early autumn. “Well, life is full of disappointments.” The dimpled smile crashed. “Oh, come on, Silvie! Don’t you want a medal and free ice cream?” “I have ice cream at home.” “It’s not even a hard win! We have our special talents, so that’s half the talent show work right there.” Silver rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I’m like, so sure tea and etiquette’s really gonna bring the house down. Talent and performing aren’t the same thing, Di.” She shook her head. Silver was never fond of onstage performances, but it was tolerable under the right circumstances. Given a month or so to prepare, maybe she’d have done it. Maybe. “But the show’s in less than two weeks and we don’t even have an act yet.” Silver wrinkled her nose. “We.” Great, now I’m doing it. “I’ve pulled off worse.” Diamond arranged the papers into neat(ish) piles by type and subject, organized chaos instead of regular chaos. “I remember this one time, when I was six, some kid stole my music. Mom and me had to go get new music and form a brand new routine in four hours. We had to skip lunch and I got blisters in my hooves, but at the end of the day, you know who got a trophy? Me.” Diamond examined the calluses at the bottom of her right hoof. “If winning was easy, everypony would do it.” She smiled again. “So it’s a good thing we’re not just anypony. We’re a trusted brand; show business is, like, our thing.” Silver Spoon wrinkled her nose. “Show business is your thing." “Don’t be silly. Your mom’s a big fancy opera star, right? It’s in your blood.” Diamond’s tail swished as she hovered over the table, spurring onward before Silver could mount a counterattack. “And you told me how you worked on concerts and plays at your academy, so you’ve got experience.” “I was an assistant director,” Silver grumbled. “I handled the scripts and lighting.” It was important to know one’s place, and hers was tucked in the secure shelter of scenery shadows. Diamond Tiara not-so-discreetly nudged a waltz into Silver’s hooves. Silver Spoon’s eyes traced the printed hoofsteps swirling through the page. The unavoidability of the talent show solidified by the second; if she didn’t move fast, it’d be inescapable. She flicked an ear. Getting out was entirely possible if Silver dug her hooves in and pushed, but the pages of show prep told her Di would push back. Hard. Clever ladies picked their battles and secured their sources wisely. Still, if her place onstage couldn’t be avoided, it might still be mitigated. “I dunno, Diamond. There’s not a lot of options here.” Light push. Go slow, careful. “Neither of us know magic or sleight of hoof, and I’m not very funny, so comedy wouldn’t work. Not unless we were clowns and you, like, just threw pies at me or something.” She glanced at the purple jester caps peeking out from under the tutu drawings. “Which I am not doing.” Diamond rolled her eyes. “Oh, fiiine.” She crumpled the jester sketches in a ball, tossing them over her shoulder. “Drama, then. We’ll be—hold on a sec…” Diamond Tiara raked through the loose-leaf pages—Silver made a mental note to get Diamond a binder in the near future—until she got to the tuxes and gowns. “We’ll be glamorous actress divas!” Least painful category. Good. Silver rubbed her chin, pretending to examine the red and blue tailcoats. She wasn’t out of the woods yet. Silver couldn’t speak for Diamond, but her own acting repertoire was shallower than Scootaloo’s bank account. Embarrassment hazards ran high… bad line reads, forgetting lines altogether, speaking too soft, speaking too loud, tripping… Dinky Doo and Shady Daze cantered by the picnic table, deep in excited conversation. A jump rope coiled around Dinky’s neck, along with a net and some fishing line. The Dink glanced back at her, smiling around the compass in her mouth. Shady Daze waved. Silver Spoon gave a polite nod and waved back. In the past few months, she’d carved out a reliable, cozy position at the top of the social ladder. But ladders tended to wobble. Logic told Silver that the ponies in Ponyville were nice and it was just a little talent show. Experience told her Ponyville also had a way of treating country fairs like The Grand Galloping Gala. No such thing as a little talent show when everypony knows your name. That was the trouble with social climbing—the higher you got, the further you fell. Silver’s eyes slid back to Diamond Tiara. But that’s what safety nets are for. Diamond flipped through pages with her nose, skipping from one bombastic act to the next. “We’ll go big and loud for this one.” Her hooves ran over flares, smoke spells, ball gowns the size of circus tents, fancy props… was that a cannon? She hopped over the table and laughed, wrapping a foreleg around Silver’s shoulder. “It’ll be you and me, Silver Spoon! Two shining stars in the Ponyville sky. Best friends-slash-partners, just like Spilt Milk and Cookie Crumbles!” Silver smiled back. Too big. Too loud. Too visible. But with the spotlight shining off Diamond’s tiara, Silver could secure a safe spot in her shadow. And if the carriage crashed, it wouldn’t be Silver in the harness. Time to start weaving that safety net. Silver drooped her left ear. “I’m not so sure, Di… I mean, I haven’t been on stage that much and you’re so experienced. I don’t want to take up your spotlight.” She said it quietly, casually, honestly. It wouldn’t work if she weren’t at least a little honest. There was a small moment of hesitation before Diamond said, “I know how to share a spotlight.” Her salesmare’s smile shrank a centimeter as the seed of Silver’s idea took root. “We’d be a team.” Those pushes came lighter, now. Doubtful. “Yeah, but you’ve got experience.” Silver’s hoof trailed over the grass. She looked away with a shy little smile. “I’m not the one who’s been onstage since she was what, four?” “Three.” “Yeah, three. You know how to win crowds, especially ones like this. It’s your hometown. I just got here.” Silver shrugged, bowing her head to the side like a lonely kitten in the rain. Her braid drooped pathetically over her glasses. The saddest, shiest filly in town. “I wouldn’t want to mess up your style.” Diamond Tiara opened her mouth, thought a moment, then shut it. In a quieter voice, she said, “Maybe… maybe instead of a headliner, you can be like, my backup pony. Or something. I’ll figure something out, Silvie.” Silver Spoon offered a gentle nod and a smile. The pink filly waggled her eyebrows with a chuckle. “You didn’t think I’d let you back out that easily, did you?” She gave Silver’s shoulder an encouraging little shake. “You’re way too good to sit on the sidelines, Silver. How will Ponyville know we’re the best if we don’t remind them?” “Please,” laughed Silver. “Like they could forget.” The grin faded from Diamond’s face. “Ponies can forget about you in a Manehattan minute, Silver Spoon.” She tried to pass it off casually, but something sincere stuck to her words and dragged them someplace grim. “Don’t give them that minute. Not even that second. Ever.” Silver felt her face go blank. She blinked, quite at a loss of what to say. A strange, crinkly, slimy feeling she couldn’t name slithered under her coat. For some reason, something about secretly weaving her safety net felt… different. Like she’d done something wrong, but that made no sense. It had gone through perfectly. Diamond Tiara softened at Silver’s expression. “Trust me, Silvie. I know what I’m doing.” She smiled, patting her friend’s hoof. “I won’t let you look dumb. You’re good with me.” Silver’s ears drooped. The slimy crinkle feeling grew. Maybe… maybe Diamond’s not such a good safety net after all. Besides, if she looks bad, I look bad. So now she was back to square one, a long drop and no net. She frowned. “You do trust me, right?” Diamond’s ears twitched. “No,” whispered Silver Spoon. It was a genuine smile this time. “No, I trust you, Di. I was just thinking.” “Oh. About the act?” “Yeah. I think we need…” A new safety net. “Another pony.” “What? Why?” Diamond crinkled her nose. “We’re fine with just two.” “Hey, we’re like, doing it big and loud, right? If it’s drama, it’ll be better to have more characters bouncing off each other.” Her tail gestured to Sunny and Peachy wobbling in their roller skates by the hopscotch lines. “Besides, I think the other entries are double or single acts. Looks like those two are doing some sort of… clown thing.” “Meanwhile, Dork and Dorkier have that magic act.” Diamond steepled her hooves. “And The Dink’s gonna do her jump rope tricks again. I think she’s working with Rumble. Three ponies could help us stand out more.” She tossed her mane over her shoulder. “You know, just as insurance.” “Great idea, Di!” Silver’s braid flopped as she bobbed her head. “Glad you thought of it.” “Me too. But who do we get?” Diamond hopped off the bench, trotting towards the tetherball court, the center of the playground. “It’s gotta be just the right pony. Not too shy.” Silver Spoon put down a rock so that Diamond’s sketches wouldn’t blow away and scurried to catch up. “We can forget Tornado Bolt, then.” She didn’t think Bolt said a word all year; Silver usually forgot the pegasus was even in their class. “And Truffle Shuffle.” Hanging out with snitches wouldn’t do their reputations any favors, anyway. “Berry Pinch’ll do it, no problem… but she’ll fight us every step of the way.” Diamond Tiara tilted her head to see the skyball game. “Rumble’s got some bug up his butt because he can’t take a joke and Featherweight’s too twitchy.” “It’ll have to be somepony we can put up with for a week, too.” So, naturally, no Scootaloo. Silver could deal with Apple Bloom, but she couldn’t say the same for Di. Sweetie Belle could work, but for some unfathomable reason, she’d joined forces with the other two. The gravel crunched under Diamond’s hooves as she circled the court. “Needs to be somepony energetic.” “Agreeable and low maintenance.” “And they can’t have anypony else attached to them and gumming up the works.” At the far end of the playground, a lone figure dangled on the swing by herself. Come to think of it, she’d been all alone since Diamond’s cuteceañera. The chains on the swing set jingled as the filly rocked back and forth, watching her hooves trace circles in the sand. When the shadows fell over her, she brushed her wooly mane aside and looked up. “Oh, hey guyth,” said Twist. “What’th up?” Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon looked at each other and grinned. They regrouped in Diamond’s front yard after school, old costumes and outfits hung near the porch. Twist loved all the act ideas Diamond had down so far, and on the walk from school, she suggested a few of her own. “We could do juggling! Or cartwheelth! Or maybe we could predict the future!” All ignored, of course. Seniority and status trumped her at every turn, though Twist never seemed to notice. What Silver couldn’t understand was why she bothered suggesting those things at all. None of them knew how to juggle or spin plates, and only Diamond knew how to do cartwheels. “We can learn,” Twist argued, totally ignoring that she wasn’t in the position to do so. “You like to learn thtuff, right? And Cheerilee’ll be happy we’re trying thomethin’ new.” Diamond rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point. We only have a week to get ready. I’m good, but I’m no miracle worker. Not yet, anyway.” “We could learn in a week.” Silver shook her head. “Not enough to be good.” Certainly not enough to let other ponies watch. Didn’t this kid have any shame? “You understand?” “Oh,” said Twist. “Yeah, I underthtand.” She didn’t, though. How could she when she tripped through the tap dance choreography sounding like a busted typewriter, smiling the whole time? When Diamond Tiara laughed at how Twist’s fluffy tail got caught in the tutu, Twist laughed with her. Not the nervous, jittery giggle Sweetie Belle made when she got a question wrong, either. Full blown, smiling, snorting laughter. Twist didn’t even have the decency to look sorry or embarrassed when Silver frowned at her pathetic attempts at a pirouette. Needless to say, a dance act was out. Twist’s “dancing” might make a hilarious solo act, but the safety net was there to make them look better, not worse. “Silver Spoon, this isn’t working.” Diamond peeled off the black leotard, frowning. Knots of red mane bounced as Twist leapt about the porch with all the poise of a wet dishtowel. “We should ditch her.” “I don’t think there’s time to find another third.” Silver curled up next to her at the top of the stairs, her back to the front door. “The show’s next week and everypony who was gonna enter already has.” “Then we’ll go back to two ponies.” Absolutely not. Silver Spoon patted the sweat from her neck with a washcloth. “It’s just one category, Diamond.” She flinched as Twist tumbled past them and into a topiary bush. Her legs flopped out of a leafy pony’s chest. “There’s more than dancing on the list, maybe she can do something else. Acting, maybe.”  “What, like another monologue?” Diamond rolled her eyes with a huff. “Not unless we put up a sign first: Ponies in the front row, you will get wet. We tried that already, remember?” She cleared her throat, wrinkling her nose for maximum lisp. “Comradeth, Pegathopolith, countrymareth, lift me your ear'th. Th'enator Th'unshower thpeakth of pride, but I tell you Hurricane but thpeakth of ambithon'th and ith a noble warrior. Private Pan'thy doth'th thou object?" Silver Spoon stifled her giggle with her hooves. Twist had almost finished picking leaves out of her mane and was on her way over. “I meant we could try a simpler play. One where she doesn’t have to talk as much.” “Hi!” Twist’s smiling face poked up between them, a paper bag in her mouth. There wasn’t enough room on the top stair for three ponies, so she and her clearance sale glasses just came up to their shoulders. “Are we taking a break?” She set the bag down and nudged it between Diamond and Silver’s hooves. “Cause I bought thome peppermint thticks if you want ‘em.” Diamond Tiara snatched one and clamped it between her teeth. She ignored the question, tail flicking as she crossed “dancing” off the list of options. Twist waggled her ears and gave a slight frown. “Oh, we’re not danthing after all?” The peppermint stick rolled to the other side of Diamond’s mouth. “No. We’re not ‘danthin’.” “Aw, too bad.” Twist put her forehooves on the top step and pushed herself up to look them in the face. “I really liked it. Didn’t you guyth?” A low growl rumbled in the back of Diamond Tiara’s throat. “Yeah, I totally love when somepony can’t learn the steps even though they’ve been practicing for three hours. I love when backup dancers fall on their face and I just love when they almost rip the leotard I generously lent them from my own closet.” The peppermint stick snapped between her teeth. “I don’t like dancing, Twist, I love it. What I don’t love is when some four-eyed lamewad who can’t talk right can’t even learn a simple—” Silver Spoon laid a gentle hoof on Diamond’s shoulder. “The point is, we’ve moved on from dancing, Twist.” “Okay.” Twist sank back to the bottom step. “What’th next, then?” “Hm.” Silver glanced at her clipboard, ignoring the stink lines Di had drawn around Twist’s name. “Singing.” She nodded towards the stack of songbooks. Mother’s ill opinion of musicals limited them to pop songs and the opera librettos Silver brought from home. How they’d mix pop songs into a dramatic performance, she had no idea. “But I think that we could probably just skip…” Twist reached into the pile and flipped to a random page of The Tragedy of Star Catcher and Skywishes. “Ooh, I’ve never theen thith thong before…” “Yeah, my mother says it’s not an opera a lot of ponies know.” She reached to take the book back. Senator Redwing had already been butchered on the battlefield; she didn’t need her magnum opus butchered on Diamond Tiara’s porch. “O, ‘tis a wonder why Wish is always under, yet my Wish is never far.” Twist sang it quietly, working out the melody and rhythm. Silver Spoon blinked. She exchanged glances with Diamond to make sure her ears still worked right. Diamond Tiara’s raised eyebrows confirmed it. “Twist doesn’t lisp when she sings.” “Yeah.” Silver rubbed her ears, just to make sure. “And she’s actually on key.” “North wind carries, west wind parries, wing song meets earth song, always wherever we are…” Twist had surprisingly good range, especially for a first stab at an opera. Her voice wasn’t sweet or beautiful. Even better, Twist’s voice was decent. Nice enough to listen to, but it couldn’t overpower Silver’s above-average contralto, nor outshine Diamond’s sweet mezzo-soprano. Average. Safe. A grin slowly spread across Silver’s face. “It’s perfect.” Diamond lifted an eyebrow. “Perfect’s stretching it a bit. But it’ll do.” Too cold. Silver Spoon snuggled into her satin pillow and rolled over, pulling the downy blanket with her, wrapped tight her shoulder. It wouldn’t go up all the way; she felt a slight tug at the blanket corner. Probably caught on something. She frowned in her sleep. Leftovers of a dream whispered in the dark. “Maybe we should come back later?” “Later will be too late.” Something tugged at the blanket again. The quilting slid off Silver’s chest. A soft, wet noise hissed beside her ear in a steady rhythm. Kind of like… breathing. Something pressed against her blankets. The wet breathing grew louder. Silver’s eye popped wide. A tannish blob hovered over her face, traces of red fuzziness at the edge and something purple shone in the center. It was moving. “Morning, Thilver Thpoon!” Silver Spoon yelped, falling back against the headboard. “Twist?!” She bent over, hooves clamped over her thundering heart. “What the hay are you doing in my house?!” “Waiting for you, obviously.” Another blob, pinkish grey in the dim light, hopped onto the end of her bed and prodded Silver’s leg. “It’s about time you woke up. I thought you were gonna sleep all day.” “Diamond Tiara?” Silver squinted and felt around the end table for her glasses. She slid them on and yanked the lamp chain. Diamond sat at the end of her bed, fully brushed and groomed, a collection of papers beside her. Twist smiled beside the end table, chewing a bagel. “What’s going on?” “Uh, hello?” Diamond gave the papers a little shake. “Rehearsal? Don’t tell me you forgot.” Silver Spoon yawned, scratching at her loose, tangled mane. “Diamond, it’s…” she glanced at the clock. “It’s six in the morning. The sun’s not even up yet.” “Yeah, and I should have been here at five thirty, but I had to get somepony up first.” Diamond frowned at Twist before she rounded on Silver. “Seriously, I thought you were supposed to be the punctual one around here.” “You never said anything about meeting at six in the morning!” Diamond blinked. “I thought it was obvious. When else would we start?” She didn’t bother waiting for an answer and laid out her work over Silver’s bedsheets. “So, quick recap: when we left off Friday, everypony got their assigned roles. I’m Star Catcher, naturally. Silver, you’re Skywishes, and Twist is Thistle Whistle.” Silver nodded, leaning over the libretto. She fetched her hairbrush from the end table, working out the tangles in her mane. “And we’re doing 'Ne’er Far', right? The big confrontation scene from act five, when Thistle Whistle finds them on Butterfly Island? “Right. You have the music?” Hooves busy braiding, and hairpins stuck between her teeth, Silver pointed her tail at the miniature record player beside Ferdinand’s tank. The score to The Tragedy of Star Catcher and Skywishes lay beside it. Hopefully, Mother didn’t mind them borrowing it for a while. “Good. After you left yesterday, I had Randolph put in a Carousel Boutique order for our costumes.” She smoothed out the concept sketches: traditional pre-classical pegasus togas for Twist and Diamond—complete with a pair of matching wings of wire and feathers—and an elegant, frilled vest for Silver. “They’re not too complicated, so they should be ready before dress rehearsal tomorrow.” Twist licked the last of the cream cheese off her hoof and yawned. “Are we getting up early tomorrow, too?” “Six sharp on the weekends, and right after school the rest of the week. Your house or Silver's—too noisy at mine 'cause we're getting new gates put in. We snooze, we lose, girls. And I don’t lose.” Diamond Tiara rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck. “Alright! Clear a space and let’s get started.” Silver Spoon gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to scratch. She had to hand it to Miss Rarity, the ruff on her costume looked historically accurate, as did the vermillion crushed velvet vest. Did she have to make it so historically itchy, though? Above the stage, pink and purple clouds lazed across the darkening sky. Wouldn’t be long now. Diamond Tiara paced circles backstage, muttering lines under her breath and humming melodies. Her pink iridescent wings bobbed atop her toga, a senator’s bronze laurel glimmered as floodlights bloomed to life around them. Twist stood next to Silver, clinking in her black armor. They looked at each other, then at Diamond, then back to each other again. “You think we should do more practith before the show thtart’th?” Silver shook her head. “We’ve been running rehearsals all week.” Sunrise to sunset on weekends, three to five on weekdays. “I don’t think an extra ten minutes is going to do much.” Besides, the last thing Diamond needed was to wind herself up fussing over her costars’ mistakes, and she would find mistakes, even if she had to imagine them. Instead, Silver just listened to the bustle and hustle of the world backstage: hushed last-minute rehearsals, excited chatter, hushed arguments, the smooth roll of Peachy’s skates and tip-tap of Snails’ hooves. If she tilted her ears, she could hear the dull roar of excited voices behind the curtain. It sounded like a full house. At the edge of Silver’s line of sight, something grey and yellow shifted behind a trunk of stage supplies. Silver Spoon frowned. All the entrants were on the other side, so it couldn’t be one of them or their parents. Looked too small to be a parent, too. She tilted her head, pretending to examine the lights. “Twist, tell Diamond I’ll be right back.” “Sure thing, Thilver.”  Careful to make light, quick steps, Silver snuck around the sandbags to the far end of the supply trunk. The fat, round colt watching Diamond wore a yellow tuxedo that might have looked handsome on somepony else, but made him look like an egg yolk. An egg yolk with a messy brown mane and a dull grey coat. He didn’t hear the hoofsteps behind him. “It’s rude to spy on ponies, Truffle Shuffle.” “Whoa!” Truffle jumped back in surprise. His round cheeks flushed a moment, hoof pawing the dusty floorboards, as if debating whether to make a run for it. “I-I wasn’t! I was just walking by.” “Right, just casually squatting behind a trunk, watching fillies rehearse.” She hopped atop the trunk, tail snapping as her shadow swept over him. “Maybe that’s what they call a walk in your neck of the woods, but in mine it’s called spying like a creepy little spying creep. That’s illegal, you know. My granddad’s a lawyer and he can totally sue you.” “Nuh-uh! I’m assistant stage manager, I’m supposed to be backstage. And I wasn’t spying, I was just… looking. I thought I heard Twist. I haven’t seen her in a couple days.” Truffle poked his head around the trunk to watch Twist adjust the wires in her little white wings. His eyes narrowed at Silver Spoon. “How come she’s been hanging out with you guys all of a sudden? What’re you up to?” Silver swiped his nose with her tail. “Well, aren’t we just a nosy busybody tonight?” She turned up her nose, leering with hooded eyes. “Don’t you have better things to do, Truffle? Lights to check? Teachers to suck up to? Pies to eat?” Truffle Shuffle flinched back, his round face twisting into a frown. He grew quiet for a few moments before he drew up his courage and said, “You-you’re planning something mean, aren’t you?” So that’s it. Silver Spoon wrinkled her nose. Trying to get dirt on us so he can snitch to Miss Cheerilee. “What, are you blind? She’s in the talent show with us.” The floorboards clacked as she sprang off the trunk to meet the colt nose to nose. “And I’ll thank you not to distract the ponies with actual talent before they take the stage.” He looked back at Diamond and Twist. His ears twitched. “…Oh.” Truffle picked at his lapel, stubby tail limp behind him. He shuffled his hooves, probably disappointed he didn’t have anything to tattle about. “You’re… sure you’re not being mean to Twist? Like, you’re not gonna make her do something silly onstage just to laugh at her? Or dump a bucket of molasses?” What did he think this was, some sort of horror story? Rolling her eyes wasn’t worth the effort. “It’s a triple act, doofus. You know, reaching for stuff to get us in trouble is like, really pathetic.” “I am not!” cried Truffle Shuffle, though the whine in his voice meant he totally was. “Why does everypony say that? I just don’t want you being mean to Twist again.” Silver blinked. Again? “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Truffle.” “Oh, really?” He took a step toward her. “What about last month, when you kept calling her a blank flank?” “Tch, what about it?” Silver Spoon lifted an eyebrow. “She was a blank flank. I’m not the one who goes around deciding who gets cutie marks and who doesn’t. Stating the obvious isn’t mean, and anyway, she’s got her cutie mark now, so why does it even matter? Not my fault some ponies can’t handle the truth.” She jabbed her head towards Twist, who smiled big and wide in the reflection of her own armor. “Does that look like a pony we’re being mean to? Of course it doesn’t.” Her volume spiked, and a few heads turned in their direction. Silver unclenched her teeth and took a deep breath. Easy, Sil. Deflect attention, don’t attract it. “Well, she does look pretty happy.” Truffle Shuffle picked up his clipboard and held it close. “Yeah, I… I guess I can believe you. It’s just that Twist is my friend, and I don’t wanna see her get hurt. She’s really nice and you’re…” “And what?” Silver sneered. “I’m mean?” Her tail whipped over the floorboards. “Got any more conspiracy theories or are we done here?” Truffle Shuffle licked his lips and looked at his clipboard. “Actually, Miss Cheerilee wanted me to tell you guys you’re on first, so you should get ready.” He peeked in their teacher’s direction and drooped his ears. “Sorry, Silver Spoon. I wasn’t being a very professional stage manager.” “No. You weren’t.” The ice in her own voice surprised her. How dare this fat little tattletale get under her coat like that? Not about to let this foolishness bother her another minute, she turned her back on him and cantered back to her companions. Diamond Tiara met her on tiptoe, stretching her neck to see Truffle Shuffle amble away. “What happened? What’s the problem?” “Oh, it’th Truffle Shuffle! Hey, there!” Twist waved as he passed to meet with Snips. Silver flicked an ear. What was this kid’s deal? They were on soon and she acted like it was still rehearsal. No sweating, no knobby knees, nothing. It was like she didn’t even care about all the ponies watching her. The crinkly feeling wormed under her coat again. “There’s no problem.” It’s just pre-show jitters. “He just came by to say we’re on first.” Stupid Truffle Shuffle, going around calling decent ponies mean when he doesn’t even know what’s going on. What nonsense. I’m not being mean. I’m being safe. It wasn’t like Silver woke up this morning wanting Twist to fall on her face and look stupid—and if she did, that was hardly Silver’s fault. It was in everypony’s best interest that the act went smoothly. Twist got into position beside Silver. “Wow, lookit all of ‘em! Thith ith gonna be tho thuper!” She waggled her ears, trying to peek at the audience behind the curtain. “I’m really glad you guyth athked me to join you.” “Yeah, sure.” Diamond gave herself a last once-over in the reflection of Twist’s armor. She shook herself off, puffed her chest and straightened her wings as she took her place at the front. “Okay, ponies! Let’s do it.” Silver nodded in her shadow. “Let’s.” She fluffed her ruffed collar, shaking off the jitters. After all, she’d no need to worry. Her safety net would sponge whatever disaster came their way. Wouldn’t fall on Silver’s shoulders, and wouldn’t hurt Diamond’s ego. She glanced at Twist, bouncing on her back hooves. And Twist has no ego to hurt, so it can’t be mean. Just safe. “Good evening, Ponyville, and welcome to the annual Ponyville Schoolhouse Talent Show!” Cheerilee’s voice echoed across the field. Hooves clacked in a polite murmur of applause. “Tonight, we’ve got a wonderful selection of talented fillies and colts.”  Twist bounced on her back hooves. “Ready, guyth?” “For our first act of the night, Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon and Twist will perform a scene from the classic opera, Star Catcher and Skywishes!” “I was born ready.” Diamond Tiara lifted her head high and led them into gleaming spotlights and the thunder of applause. Silver Spoon released the breath she was holding. Perfectly safe. Silver picked up the pink iridescent wings off the floor, dusted off the feathers, and placed them back in the travel bag, atop the toga. If they could use it later, perhaps it wouldn’t be a total waste of bits. “Technically,” Silver said, “we didn’t lose.” Her eyes trailed the listless pink hoof dangling off the pile of sandbags up to Diamond Tiara, slumped against the wall. “We just didn’t get medals.” Diamond’s head tilted towards the sky, bangs tumbling over her closed eyes. Though she didn’t move, Silver knew when she opened them and looked at her. “Yeah, we did.” The dull roar of foals and parents and relatives bustling backstage nearly drowned out her voice. All the fire fizzled out of it, nothing left but wisps of smoke. “We thtill did our betht, right?” Twist gently smiled up from the other side of the sandbags. Little white wings still bobbed on her blue toga when she moved. “And we had fun, doethn’t that kinda…” Diamond edged away, ears pinned tight against her head. Twist took a cautious step back. “Um…kinda make uth… winnerth?” Her ears wilted. “In… in a way?” “That’s just what losers and ponies that hang out with losers say to make themselves feel better.” She tried to snort, but it came out a sigh. “We lost. The end.” “I—okay, we lost.” Silver Spoon rubbed the back of her neck. The shallow imprint ring from the ruffed collar itched under her pearls. “Twist’s got a point, though. We did do our best.” It wasn’t a perfect performance; Silver knew it wouldn’t be. Even if Diamond worked them twenty-four hours—and would have if she could have—there just weren’t enough days to prepare. And Diamond chose "Ne’er Far", an infamously difficult piece, even for practiced professional ponies. Mother had performed it once and said she never wanted to do it again. Really, for three little fillies with no musical training (Wisteria’s music class and a pageant coach only got one so far) they’d done fairly well. “The best is all we can do.” Silver shrugged. “My mother says sometimes ponies just have a bad night. Bad performances happen.” Diamond shook the mane out of her eyes, zeroing in on Twist. “Yeah, well, it wouldn’t have happened if somepony didn’t drop tempo in the third verse. You forgot the words again, didn’t you?” The silly purple glasses slid down Twist’s muzzle as she looked away. “I knew we should have done another rehearsal before showtime.” She pulled in her legs and rolled over, neck leaning over the sandbags. Her voice sparked. “Why didn’t you practice at home?” “But I did! Theriouthly!” “Yeah, well...” The spark flicked out. She slumped against the bag. “Not ‘theriouthly’ enough.” Silver Spoon adjusted her pearls, watching Cheerilee talk with the town librarian and Apple Bloom’s sister. Snips and Snails’ moms laughed together in the wings. Silver frowned. Maybe it wasn’t the performance. In retrospect, an obscure thousand-year-old play presented without context was a poor choice for a little rural school talent show. I shouldn’t have brought that libretto at all. On the bright side, nopony seemed to notice that but Silver. The safety net came through with flying colors. Twist shuffled her hooves. “Thorry, Diamond.” Diamond rolled over with a sigh. “Whatever. Just forget it.” Twist’s mom, Shimmy Shake waved at them from the wings. Her auntie Bon Bon stood next to her, chewing a spare petal from the carnation bouquet. Twist waved back. “That’th my folkth, I gotta go.” Silence. “Um. Thee you at school?” Silver flicked one of Twist’s wings. “It’s fine, Twist.” Her fuzzy red tail twitched uncertainly. “Really?” Losing the talent show in front of all of Ponyville and not dying from embarrassment or having Diamond mad at her? Could have gone far, far worse. “You did fantastic.” She held up a hoof as Twist started to unfasten her wings. “I think you can just keep them. Costume doesn’t match either of us anyway.” The little smile came back to Twist’s face. “Golly, Thilver! Thankth!” “Don’t mention it.” Silver Spoon nudged Diamond’s leg. No response. Well, at least our dignity’s still intact. That’s a win in my book. She patted Diamond’s shoulder. It’ll pay off in the long run, I’m sure. The floorboards trembled under more hoofsteps, these heavier than Twist’s, and traveling at a brisk and merry little trot. Silver twitched her ears and looked up. “Good evening, Miss Cheerilee.” “Hello, girls! Congratulations on a wonderful performance.” Cheerilee’s eyes fell on Diamond Tiara and for a millisecond, the teacher frowned. Her voice softened, but the pep never left it. It reminded Silver of blankets and tomato soup on a rainy day. “You know, I don’t think Ponyville’s ever seen a classical opera before. You introduced so many ponies to something they might never see, otherwise. I’m glad you decided to share it with us.” The silence stretched uncomfortably. Silver glanced at the sullen, silent Diamond and fiddled with her pearls. Come on, Di. Ponies are watching. Silver Spoon picked up the slack with a graceful nod and a smile. “Thank you, Miss Cheerilee. We’re glad you liked it.” She gave her friend a gentle nudge. “We’re just a little tired. Acting is, like, hard work, you know?” “Not too tired for ice cream, I hope.” “Wait.” Diamond Tiara brushed her mane out of her eyes and sat up. She blinked, tilting her head to the side. Maybe she’d really been asleep after all. “Wait, what?” Cheerilee nodded to the cluster of foals a few yards away. “The ice cream party at Sugarcube Corner, remember? All you can eat for all of Ponyville’s talented foals. We’re about to leave in a few minutes, if we can just figure out where Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie rolled off to.” She stretched her neck to survey the area, flicking her ears. “Come to think of it, where’s Twist? I just saw her with you a moment ago.” “Her mom took her home already,” Silver told her. “I think we sort of forgot about the ice cream.” Diamond Tiara slid off the sandbags, her left ear knocked to the side and her mouth dipped lopsided. “I don’t get it. Why are we still getting ice cream?” “Well, why not? I know you all worked very hard. You three spent every other recess practicing your lines, and I noticed all those sketches you drew in class last week.” Cheerilee flicked her tail and bent her neck to meet the filly’s eye. “I admire your dedication, Diamond Tiara, but in the future try and keep the art in art class, not my history lecture.” Silver Spoon averted Diamond’s gaze and swallowed an I told you so. “I think that effort deserves a reward,” Miss Cheerilee said. “Don’t you?”  “I dunno… I guess, but…” Diamond rubbed her shoulders, where the wings had been. “Losers don’t get ice cream.” “Is that so?” Cheerilee lifted her head and regarded them both. “Well, then. It’s a good thing I don’t see any losers here.” Diamond Tiara chewed her lip. She glanced from Miss Cheerilee, to Silver Spoon. Silver nodded with a little shrug. “She is one of the judges, Di.” “Hm. True…” She clicked her tongue and glanced back up at their teacher. “Did you say it was all I can eat?” Miss Cheerilee just laughed.   The paper straw tilted in the empty, chocolate-stained glass. Diamond nudged it to the side, licked her lips and pointed a hoof. “Okay, but here’s the thing: it’s, like, not even that we lost, you know?” They nestled together at a round little table towards the back window. A little island built for two, sheltered from heavy traffic and commotion, but still in close proximity of the Cakes’ path to the kitchen. Silver took a small, ladylike bite of ice cream cake. It was better to just smile and nod, but Silver couldn’t resist a skeptical blink. “Really, it’s not! I mean, I have lost before—not a lot—because, yeah, sometimes the other pony’s just better than you.” She leaned forward, idly gesturing with her hoof. “I don’t like it, but it’s like you said, Silver. Sometimes it just happens and you gotta be better next time. Maybe we should have started sooner or whatever, I dunno.” Diamond tapped the table, emphasizing each word. “But that’s. Not. The thing, though.” Silver Spoon tossed up her hoof to wave down another chocolate malt. “Then what is?” The malt slid into Diamond’s hoof with a clink. Before Silver could blink twice, Diamond sucked it down halfway, cherry and all. She smacked her lips and shook her head, teeth gritted against the brain freeze. “It’s who won.” Her eyes raked across the room. “I mean, just look.”  Several tables down, Snips twirled the magic award on his sticky, stubby little hoof like a propeller. “Hey, check it out!” The ribbon whistled softly as it whipped through the air. “Mine spins!” Snails wiped the caramel sauce from his muzzle, unimpressed. He slipped the medal off his neck and poked Snips’ round little snout with the tip of the metal star. “Well, mine’s pointier. And it pro’lly spins faster, too. Watch!” He hung the ribbon on his horn, braced himself against the table and slammed his skinny neck as he rocked back and forth. Snail’s greasy, stringy mane tossed about his shoulders, like one of those obnoxious rock stars who abused salt and broke their instruments all the time. Seated right behind him, Sunny Daze squeaked and ducked for cover when the medal whistled over her ears. She covered her head with her hooves and pressed herself against Peachy. Not far away, Truffle Shuffle chewed his waffle cone and gently poked Miss Cheerilee’s shoulder. The teacher looked up from her strawberry float. “Hey! Watch it, you medalhead!” Peachy Pie’s drama medal dipped into her sundae as she leaned over the table. Her voice piped into an irritating squeal. “Miss Cheerileeeeeee! Snails almost hit Sunny with his really sharp medal that could put an eye out!”  Cheerilee waved her down. “I see him, Peachy. Boys, you could hurt somepony that way!” The colts meekly slipped the ribbons back around their necks when she frowned at them. “That’s better. Let’s keep our hooves and prizes to ourselves." “Yes, ma’am,” the colts murmured. After a moment, Snails poked his friend in the side. “Told ya it spins faster.” He caught Silver Spoon watching him and made a face. Silver, mature young lady she was, resisted the strong temptation to throw her spoon at him. “They treat it like it doesn’t even matter.” Diamond’s muzzle sank into her malt glass, bitter blue eyes leering over the edge. Her breath fogged the glass. “Those clods didn’t even do the act right. He ate the carrot, for pony’s sake!” “Well, it’s not hard to win when you’re the only contestant.” Dinky probably would have won instead if she hadn’t gotten the flu. “Try not to think about it, Di.” Silver turned away and took another bite of ice cream cake. In the corner of her eye, the laces of Sunny and Peachy’s untied roller skates spilled over the floor. Her ears flattened. Maybe the Star Catcher performance wasn’t perfect, but it was Muleitzer stuff compared to that cutesy-poo drivel Peachy passed off as drama. Putting We Two on roller skates doesn’t make a dumb, schmaltzy poem any less schmaltzy. “They didn’t win because they were good, they won ‘cause they were cute.” The last of Silver’s ice cream cake took on a bitter taste. With a lash of her tail, she looked away. This never would have happened at Wisteria. “Hmph. Pedestrians. Wouldn’t know real art if it bit them on the flank.” “You can say that again.” Diamond sucked down the rest of her malt. “It’s just not fair.” “Sheesh!” Silver’s ears twitched at the last voice either of them wanted to hear. She cautioned a glance and bit back a groan. Of course they’re sitting behind us. She massaged her temples. Of. Course. The garish purple star splotched across Scootaloo’s face, smudging near the hairline where sweat mussed it. “I knew those jerks were sore winners,” she muffled through a mouthful of rocky road. Sweetie Belle—somehow her makeup was even worse—looked up and flinched, caught dead center in Diamond Tiara’s glare. She tapped Scootaloo’s shoulder. “Uh…” The pegasus wiped her mouth with her fetlock. “Guess I’m not surprised they’re sore losers, too.” She tilted her head at Sweetie. “What?” Diamond Tiara tossed her mane over her shoulder. “Speaking of cheap wins…” Scootaloo froze with pricked ears, her hoof caught in the proverbial cookie jar. Slowly, she turned to look at Silver Spoon—who shot back a scowl—then back to Sweetie Belle. “…Oh.” For a moment, she actually had the decency to look sheepish. Silver flicked her ears. Perhaps the scruffy little urchin finally learned some manners. Perhaps she even realized she owed them an apology for eavesdropping and having awful hair and being the actual worst all the time. Perhaps they might all call a truce and just go back to their ice cream and have a peaceful evening. Silver lifted a hoof to suggest they hold their fire. Diamond frowned, lifting a curious eyebrow. The awkward expression vanished in a blink. Scootaloo straightened her posture and flicked her wings. “Like I said, sore losers.” She turned her back on them, scooting closer to Apple Bloom. Is… is she ignoring us? Silver bit down hard on her spoon. Us?! After what she just did? She caught Diamond Tiara’s eye. Never mind. Trounce ‘em. “Just can’t handle when somepony else is better or more talented at stuff.” The pegasus took a big, sloppy lick of green sherbet. “Anyway, Apple Bloom, do you think we can get the zip lines before next week?” “Yeah,” Diamond Tiara sneered. “In fact, you were so talented you got your cutie marks in—oh, wait.” She lifted a hoof to her cheek, blinking innocently. “My mistake.” Apple Bloom cut in before Scootaloo opened her mouth. “Nopony was botherin’ you, Diamond Tiara.” She fiddled with her dreadful skull headband—a slight step up from the tacky bow—and swished her tail. “This here’s an A an’ B conversation, so just see your way out of it.” A red tinge brushed Diamond’s ears and cheeks. She snarled behind a tight-lipped frown. “Oh, yeah?! Well, maybe—” Silver Spoon kicked Diamond’s hoof under the table. “Teacher to the right,” she whispered. Silver nudged her head towards Miss Cheerilee, three tables down and already looking in their direction. She felt Diamond’s muscles relax and tapped her hoof again. “Decorum.”  “Guys, come on,” sighed Sweetie Belle. She rubbed her face, smearing the ice cream stains on her mouth into the paint. “It’s too late for this stuff. I’m tired.” Diamond Tiara loomed over the empty malt glasses, trading a cool look with Silver Spoon. Together, they smiled in silent agreement: Decorum. Quietly. “Mister Cake?” Silver waved her hoof as he passed. “Another chocolate malt, please.” Mister Cake brushed off his apron, a frown on his thin face. “Another?” He eyed the fifteen empty malt glasses on their table. “Don’t you girls think you’ve had enough?” Diamond frowned back. “It’s all we can eat, isn’t it? We can still eat.” She turned to Sweetie Belle with a smile and a sigh. “You know what? You’re right, Sweetie Belle.” The unicorn opened her mouth to retort, then closed it. She blinked. “I am?” “Why, of course you are,” said Silver Spoon. She rested her head on steepled hooves, eyes closed. “Really, Diamond, we should be good sports.” She opened one eye, smiling. “Congratulations, you three.” Diamond Tiara couldn’t bring herself to say it, though she still nodded. Scootaloo frowned and drew her tail around herself. She looked to Apple Bloom, who looked to Sweetie who looked back to Scootaloo, before they all looked back to Diamond and Silver. It was Apple Bloom who decided to speak up. “Well, uh…” She exchanged another glance with her friends and cautioned a smile. “Thanks. Y’all did pretty good, too.” “Thanks.” A brittle grin slithered across Diamond Tiara’s face. Her malt slid onto the table. She plucked the cherry from the whipped cream into her mouth. “But you’re the ones that deserve the praise; you, like, totally deserved that win.” Silver nodded. “Totally.”  “I mean, I…” Diamond shook her head, chuckling to herself. “I just can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard! Can you, Silvie?” Silver tossed her hoof to the air. “Oh my Celestia, Diamond, I just thought I’d, like, die. You were just soooo funny!” “Weren’t they just?” Her voice pitched an octave, dripping with venom. She took a long, long sip of malt and licked the chocolate from her teeth. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle looked at each other and frowned. “When I think about it, it’s not that surprising. Some ponies are just, like, naturally gifted, you know? That clown costume Apple Bloom wore last week? What a riot!” “Starting early, too.” Silver winked. “Very professional.” Apple Bloom paused mid-lick of her apple cinnamon ice cream cone. “But I wasn’t wearin’ a clown outfit last week.” She pushed up the headband sliding onto her forehead. “I wasn’t wearin’ nothin’.” Diamond Tiara blinked in surprise. “Really?” She idly chewed her straw, thinking it over. “That’s so weird, I could have sworn…” Diamond leaned forward, squinting. “Oh.” She drew back to smirk at Silver. “That’s just how she always looks. My mistake.” Apple Bloom bit her lip and set down her ice cream. “Hey!” Scootaloo set back her ears, twisting up her face. “What? It’s a compliment.” Silver Spoon flipped her braid over her shoulder. “You’re all natural comedians, all of Ponyville thinks so. Have you thought of going pro? I could get you a good agent.” “Oh, Silvie,” Diamond laughed, “With all that natural talent, they don’t need an agent.” Silver’s sharp giggle tinkled like broken glass. “You’re just so funny. I mean, those raggedy coats?” “What about those goofy voices? Oh, and the way they can’t go five steps without falling on their faces? Classic!” Diamond’s grin grew teeth. The laughter fell in hard, concrete syllables. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” Scootaloo ran her hooves through her purple mane, as though brushing off an annoying bit of lice. Her ratty little wings hummed at her back, as if ready to propel her forward. “Just ignore them, Scoots,” whispered Sweetie Belle. She rubbed the brass star with her fetlock, smiling at her reflection. “After I show my prize to Rarity, I’m gonna hang it up by my dresser; that spot could use a little shine. What’re you guys gonna do?" “I…” The pegasus paused to give Silver Spoon another glare before she turned her ears towards Sweetie. “I was thinking above my bed, maybe. Or next to my Rainbow Dash poster.” She rubbed her chin. “But maybe it’ll go better with my other Rainbow Dash poster, the one by the door.” Diamond Tiara leered over her chocolate malt, drinking slowly. Her eyes never left Apple Bloom’s. “Oh, Apple Bloom!” Sweetie’s head poked up between them. “What if you put yours in the trophy case?” “Say, yeah!” Apple Bloom’s ears perked. She rescued her ice cream from the table and gave it a lick. “I can put it right next to Applejack’s rodeo ribbons!” Diamond chomped her straw, shoulders tense. Silver practically saw the gears turning, regrouping for the next attack. Silver Spoon scanned the room. Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie went home a few minutes ago. Snips chatted with Truffle Shuffle by the door, Snails finishing the last of his mint shake next to them. No more distractions for Miss Cheerilee; unless they played it incredibly close to the vest, she’d catch on for sure. Already a gamble, and Silver doubted Diamond would bother with delicacy for round two. Besides, Sweetie Belle was right. It was too late for this; time to pack it in. “Aw, forget ‘em Di.” She flicked Diamond’s thigh with her tail. “Let the babies have their bottle.” For a second, Silver thought Diamond would shrug her off and push on anyway. Diamond leaned back, spitting out the mangled red and white straw into one of the empty glasses. “Eh, whatever.” Her words echoed as she peeked into her glass to see how much malt was left. “Bet those dorks got the comedy prize just being blank flank failures like always.” She tipped back the glass and let last of the malt slide into her mouth. All three blank flanks sat up, ears rigid. Diamond Tiara’s smile crashed through the floor. Silence stretched between the five of them. Sweetie Belle hunched her shoulders, investigating the bottom of the empty bowl. Scootaloo took an intense interest in the wall, and Apple Bloom stared at Diamond Tiara, who’d grown eerily quiet. Silver’s eyes widened. Those pratfalls weren’t staged. That off-key, overdramatic song was never supposed to be ironic, or clever. It wasn’t clown makeup. There was never a comedy routine. The pages of Miss Cheerilee’s gradebook rustled. In the background, Mrs. Cake quietly spoke with her husband; something about cradles and showers. Silver heard a terrible creaking sound, like somepony dragging a chair over a hardwood floor. Beside her, Diamond Tiara sat silent, save for the grinding of teeth. Oh, boy. “Um, Diamond Tiara?” Silver laid a gentle hoof on her friend’s steeled shoulder. It trembled. “Maybe we should get some air?” Diamond’s eye twitched. “Okay. Let’s get some air.” Silver gripped the other shoulder and pulled Diamond away from the table. “See you next Monday, Miss Cheerilee!” She kept one hoof tight on that shoulder as they briskly navigated through the tables of Sugarcube Corner and out the door. Silver didn’t relax her grip until they reached the oak tree two blocks from Diamond’s house. She looked around; the coast was clear. She removed the hoof and took a step back. “Okay.” Diamond Tiara threw back her head. Her scream frightened a family of crows into the night. Lights turned on in nearby houses; a window or two opened. Diamond reared and bucked the tree trunk—a hard, fast strike that cracked the bark. A shower of acorns hissed down around them. Silver Spoon flicked an acorn off her shoulder and rubbed her ringing ears. “Better?” Diamond leaned into the bark, chest heaving and her face an alarming shade of vermillion. She smoothed her mane, picked the leaves and acorns out of her mane, and sighed. “Kinda?” She wiped a bit of chocolatey spit from the corner of her mouth. “No… not really.” The crickets chirped in the grass. Ponies shut their windows and turned their lights back off. A couple of squirrels lurked in tree roots, eyeing the feast at the fillies’ hooves. Diamond rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I mean… I—we did ALL that, the whole week a-and they—they come in and just—just—” “I know.” Silver Spoon scratched the back of her neck and gave a long, weary sigh. How long had they been up? Last-minute rehearsals started at seven, and now it had to be close to ten, so they’d been up… too many hours. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep.” Diamond rubbed her back leg, likely sore from the tree impact. “Yeah. Okay.” She flicked her tail and made her way down the street to her mansion. “I think Randolph has set up the spare bed by now.” Oh, right. Only now Silver remembered she was spending the night tonight, since Mother had to meet Father in Canterlot for society matters. Saves me a walk home at least. As they approached the gates, Diamond Tiara lifted her head in the direction of Sugarcube Corner. Her face still looked kind of splotchy. “Let it go, Diamond,” Silver Spoon whispered. “They’re not worth it.” She turned back towards the house, but didn’t answer. Strands of lilac mane tickled Silver’s nose as Diamond leaned on her shoulder. Silver watched the shadows of the gates glide over the grass as the shiny new brass gates yawned to let them in. She nodded hello to Randolph and tried to hide her yawn behind her hoof. Diamond’s voice hissed in the dark. “We’ll get them next time.” “Right.” Silver’s ears sagged, but she smiled anyway. “Next time.”