'Sugar Note! Get out here and help me!'
Sugar Note rolled her eyes. Amethyst Charm, her partner for nearly a year now, had been in a foul mood since this morning. In the lead up to their one year anniversary, they had decided to finally move in together, and both of them were setting up in a new apartment. At first, Amethyst had been concerned moving in together would arouse suspicions, but Sugar Note had finally managed to convince her.
In fact, Sugar Note was secretly delighted they had moved in together. She knew Amethyst was the pony she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and this was the first major step towards that. Of course, she also knew they could keep no secrets from one another. And Sugar Note had secrets - in fact, she had a whole life full of them. Sugar Note knew Amethyst Charm wasn't stupid, that she must have twigged Sugar Note was keeping something back, but as always, Amethyst had been polite and not tried to pry into her personal life, or her past.
But now, the game had to end. Amethyst and Sugar Note were approaching their one year anniversary, and Sugar Note wanted to tell her the truth. The truth, of course, being that Sugar Note didn't actually exist.
'Sugar Note' was the name Sweetie Belle had first chosen as - of all things - a stage name. When she had met Amethyst, she had been using the name to ensure nopony ever figured out who she really was. Over the years, the little runaway foal called Sweetie Belle had grown to become Sugar Note, confident and headstrong. She had changed her appearance too, her mane cut short and dyed purple, and her voice had changed considerably over the years, adopting the regional accent. She had also got her cutie mark, a single black musical note. Now there was a story. Today, she was unrecognizable as that small filly she had once been.
'Sugar Note! Help me with these bags, would you?'
'Coming!'
Three hours later, they were finished. Sweetie Belle gazed around the new apartment. While it was no palace, it was a place of their own, and considering the place they had both come from, this was a major achievement for both of them. Of course, neither of them could have done it without each other.
Amethyst Charm, a lilac unicorn with a platinum blonde mane, had first met Sweetie Belle at one of Fillydelphia's few gay-friendly bars. Soon after discovering her talent for music, Sweetie had begun to perform around Fillydelphia to make ends meet. She soon gathered a reputation among the Fillydelphia gay community, so work was always to be found. To Sweetie Belle, it was a dream job; the opportunity to practice and spread music, and to meet like minded ponies, ponies who wouldn't judge her, who would accept and return her affections.
And thus she met Amethyst Charm. Normally Sweetie Belle was wary of especially friendly mares - lots of stories circulated about police sting operations targeting fillyfoolers and coltcuddlers, but Sweetie Belle believed in giving everypony a chance.
As it turned out, Amethyst Charm was the most wonderful mare Sweetie had ever met. Kind and sympathetic, but never unwilling to stand up for herself and Sweetie Belle, their relationship had blossomed. Sweetie Belle had never once imagined she would find a mare to share her life with, much less find one who wanted the same thing from her.
Just like Sweetie Belle, Amethyst had ended up homeless as a filly, abandoned by her family. Unable to afford therapy and unwilling to let their daughter be taken away, but still unable to face the prospect of a fillyfooler daughter, her family had sold their home and left Fillydelphia, leaving Amethyst behind. Amethyst was older than Sweetie Belle when this happened - in fact, she was entering adulthood, but she still ended up homeless. Sweetie Belle didn't know what had happened to Amethyst in between her family abandoning her and her meeting Sweetie Belle for the first time, apart from the fact that Amethyst had begun working as a jeweler. Presumably, Amethyst would tell Sweetie Belle when she was ready.
'So, you were gonna tell me something, Sugar Note?'
Sweetie Belle snapped back to attention. Of course. How should she start?
'Amethyst, you know I love you, right?'
'Uh-huh'.
'And you love me... right?'
'Of course'.
'Ok. Listen... My name isn't actually Sugar Note. It's Sweetie Belle'.
Sweetie saw Amethyst's face go from curiosity to shock, and from shock to anger.
'What?'
'I know, and I'm sorry. I had a good reason, though-'
Amethyst held up a hoof. 'Suga- Sweetie Belle. I've known you for nearly a year now, and I don't care what you're called. As long as you're the mare I remember, whatever your real name is doesn't matter. But I still gotta ask: What. The. Fuck?'
'Amethyst, I had a good reason.'
'What good reason?'
Sweetie Belle shook her head. 'Amethyst, have you heard the name "Sweetie Belle" before?'
Amethyst shook her head. 'I don't think so. What, are you running from the cops?'
'Kind of. Not for doing anything wrong, just- you know. They found out about me, and I had to ditch it and... Well, it'll take a while to get you up to speed on everything, so-'
Amethyst sank into her chair. 'I wanna hear everything, Sugar Belle. Or Sweetie Belle. Whatever'.
Sweetie Belle had been expecting an inquisition, but she wasn't sure she was ready to share every aspect of her life with Amethyst. As far as she was concerned, some parts of her life were better left forgotten. Of course, the past has a nasty way of following ponies around. Perhaps it would be better to just be honest.
'Well, we're gonna be here a while if you wanna hear everything'.
Amethyst sank yet deeper into her chair, and propped a pillow behind her head. 'I'm all ears'.
Sweetie Belle awoke the next morning, relieved to discover she had been left alone during the night. The sun was rising over Fillydelphia, reflecting simultaneously off the millions of panes of glass in the skyscrapers far in the distance. Momentarily, Sweetie Belle was struck by their beauty. Then she felt a crack and jumped up in pain.
Sweetie now saw what had woken her up - a large stallion with a broom had come out of the fast-food joint next to where she was sleeping, and was attempting to drive her off.
'You, get outta my property! I'm tired of you fuckin' rats thinking you got the right to sleep wherever you want!'
Sweetie Belle jumped to her hooves and ran onto the pavement. Heart pounding, she turned to face the pony that had attacked her, but he had already gone back inside.
Sweetie Belle was famished, realizing she hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday. Food was hardly in scarce supply in Fillydelphia, but Sweetie Belle wasn't sure how much money she had. She had emptied out her piggy bank before coming, though.
Sweetie Belle hastily rummaged through her saddlebag. Mercifully, nopony had gone through it while she was asleep. Sure enough, the 34 bits she had taken with her were still in the backpack. It wasn't much, but it would buy breakfast, at least.
Where should she go? It only now occurred to Sweetie Belle that she was utterly lost in Fillydelphia, a truly gargantuan city. She considered asking a pony on the street, but noticed most ponies who were up at this hour were giving her a wide berth. She doubted any of them would let her get close.
In truth, Sweetie felt and looked a mess. While the bruises and other wounds would fade, a night spend on Fillydelphia's streets certainly hadn't done her personal hygiene any good. She could feel an itch buzzing its way around her body, causing her to pause intermittently and scratch. Sweetie knew she likely had lice, but she could deal with that problem later. Right now she needed to find somewhere to eat. Easy enough. She also needed to find someplace willing to serve her. Less easy.
In fact, Sweetie Belle was only searching for ten minutes before she came across a stand selling fast food. Stomach rumbling, she approached, taking care to avoid scratching, so as not to give the game away.
The stallion at the stall was unimpressed. 'Beat it'.
Sweetie Belle decided to press on. 'Can I have a oatburger? Uh, please?'
'This isn't a charity, kid. Either you pay, or you get nothing'.
'How much?'
The stallion jerked his hoof in the direction of the prices. Oatburger: 10 bits.
Sweetie Belle rummaged around in her saddlebag, removing ten bits and placing them on the counter. The Stallion raised his eyebrows when he saw the amount of bits Sweetie Belle was carrying around, but said nothing, instead retrieving an oatburger with bun.
The filly was clearly inexperienced, being so naive as to flash her pile of bits to everyone who might be passing. In some ways, she reminded him of his own daughter, and it was this connection that caused him to speak up.
'Don't go round flashing your bit stash to everypony who walks by. Most ponies expect rats like you to be bitless. If you let everypony know what you've got, you're going to be an easy target'.
He turned and thrust the oatburger into Sweetie Belle's hooves. The filly hesitated, seemingly unsure what to do next.
The stallion sighed audibly. 'Buy something else, or piss off'.
Sweetie Belle wandered for a while after that, finally stopping underneath a bridge. What was she going to do next? The prospect of spending another night in an alley did not seem particularly inviting - Sweetie Belle had been lucky last night, but she was unlikely to be lucky again. She would most likely wake up to find her saddlebags missing, or worse, not wake up at all.
Sweetie Belle felt cold, empty and frightened. Worse of all, she felt alone. She didn't know anypony in Fillydelphia, so she couldn't rely on other ponies for assistance.
Her best course of action, she decided, would be to stay awake for the night, and sleep during the day. Sweetie Belle knew from yesterday that ponies at night posed a bigger threat than ponies during the daytime, so it made sense to keep herself awake and alert at night.
Of course, that meant she now needed to find somewhere to sleep, somewhere where she was out of everypony's way. She looked around at the bridge she had stopped under. It would keep her dry, and there were plenty of doorways along it she could sleep in. At least she wouldn't be disturbed by anypony trying to kick her out.
Sweetie Belle didn't realize how tired she was until she laid down. Her situation could certainly improve - Sweetie had no blanket to cover her, and she could not stop scratching - patches of her coat were starting to thin, and Sweetie knew they were likely to fall out if she didn't wash. But she had at least come up with a working plan. Sweetie shut her eyes and tried her hardest to forget about her situation. She thought instead of Ponyville, of her friends and the life she had escaped from. Maybe this wasn't so bad, in perspective...
'You think she's still asleep?'
'Sure, just do it!'
Sweetie Belle awoke, but kept her eyes shut, not daring to move. Opening her eyes a fraction, she saw a pony stooped over, rummaging through her saddlebag. Next the the pony searching her bag, she could make out another pony, who appeared to be keeping guard.
Sweetie Belle opened her eyes a little more, and was able to make out the shape of two fillies, both of them emaciated and frail . Sweetie Belle knew there were two of them, but she had the element of surprise and doubtless more strength and stamina. It was these factors, combined with her utmost rage at being victimized, that drove her to strike.
Sweetie Belle coiled herself up, and sprung at the nearest filly. She had expected to feel the filly standing guard hit her from behind, but it didn't happen. Sweetie Belle was unsure what to do, so she simply struck the thief on the nose, feeling a sickening crunch as the filly shrieked and fell over backwards.
Sweetie Belle spun around, but couldn't see the guard anywhere. Clearly, she had fled the moment Sweetie Belle moved.
Her momentary distraction was enough. Sweetie Belle was knocked off her hooves as the filly she had knocked over tacked her. Both fillies went sprawling. Sweetie Belle picked herself up much faster than the other filly, and before she could react, Sweetie Belle was upon her, raining down blow after blow, until the filly curled up and stopped struggling.
Panting, Sweetie turned to check her bag. Sure enough, about half of her bits were missing.
Snarling, she rounded on the filly she had hit. 'Where are my bits?'
'Ober dere, ober dere!' The terrified filly's voice was muffled from the blood coming out of her nose.
Keeping her eyes on the filly, Sweetie Belle turned and saw a pair of saddlebags. Inside, she found half of her stash of bits, as well as other items and bit stashes, presumably lifted from other sleeping ponies.
Relaxing, Sweetie Belle turned to face the filly on the floor. As she took in the bruises and wounds, she became overcome with a sense of horror. Did I do that?.
Sweetie Belle was horrified with herself. Even though the filly had tried to steal from her, it was obvious she had gone too far. The filly's nose was caked in blood, twisted in a gruesome fashion. Sweetie Belle had obviously broken it. In addition to this, the filly was bruised all over from where Sweetie Belle had hit her, bleeding in several locations. The filly was much younger than Sweetie Belle, and much smaller, and Sweetie Belle had lost control and severely hurt her.
Sweetie Belle felt sick. She was no better than Comet Spark, abusing ponies smaller and weaker than her. Sweetie Belle could have hit her once, and it would have been enough, but she had let her anger get the better of her, and this was the result. Sweetie Belle only hoped she hadn't broken her leg.
Sweetie Belle wanted to offer sympathy to the filly, but she had none to give. Instead, she took back her bits, leaving the rest of the contents of the saddlebag for the filly, and ran.
As Sweetie left the tunnel, she noticed night had fallen. She couldn't stay under the bridge - the filly that had run away would likely come back, with other ponies, and Sweetie Belle had no intention of being there when she did.
Fillydelphia at night was a bustling hive of activity. Sweetie Belle found she preferred the nighttime city - ponies still treated her like trash, of course, but at least she was less visible. She found her senses overwhelmed by a wide variety of smells, sounds and colours that would have seemed alien in a small town like Ponyville.
Sweetie Belle considered food. There was plenty of choice, of course, but getting served would still be an issue. Sweetie Belle had awoken with a large bald patch on her coat, very prominent and obvious. Sweetie Belle assumed she had got in scratching herself in her sleep.
She had other considerations, too. She had some money left, and wanted to buy a blanket or cloth to cover herself with when she slept. She had no idea what she would do to earn more money after what she had was gone, and frankly, she didn't want to think about it.
Sweetie Belle wandered a little while more, stopping to buy some food at an all-night convenience store. She then continued until she arrived at a park, where she stopped to eat.
As she ate, she considered her next problem - where to sleep? She had a little money left, enough to buy a blanket, certainly, but she had no idea where she could sleep during the day. She knew there were shelters for homeless ponies, and she would likely to get a place there, given she was a young filly - but there was also a risk of being identified. She had also considered getting intentionally arrested, to sleep overnight in a cell, but the same risk was present, as was the risk the pony she wronged would simply kill her.
Sweetie Belle knew she had to change her appearance, get a new name, a new identity. It was fortunate she hadn't got her cutie mark yet, as such an obvious identifier would have ruined her chances to start a new life.
First things first. Sweetie needed to change her mane style. She didn't have an elegant method of doing so, so she supposed she would have to wing it.
Sweetie Belle left the supermarket, having spent the last of her bits. She ducked into an alley, and emptied her saddlebag. Out tumbled a thin blanket, a pair of scissors, and three bottles of purple food dye. She hadn't been able to afford proper dye, and would have had no idea how to use it, so this was the next best thing.
Using a puddle for a mirror, Sweetie Belle levitated the scissors and began to chop at her mane. She knew she was doing an awful job, but the effect was remarkable. She no longer looked like Sweetie Belle, which was important.
Soon, the floor around her was littered with pink and purple hair. Satisfied that she had done a good enough job, Sweetie Belle opened the bottle of food dye and messily poured into onto her mane. She fought the urge to shake the liquid loose, and sealed her mane in a bubble of magic to prevent the dye from leaking. She repeated the process with another bottle, and then shook her head lightly. The bubble failed in places, causing streaks of purple to run down her back, but for the most part, Sweetie Belle was impressed by her performance.
After around half an hour, Sweetie Belle let the dye drain out of her mane. The effect was not pretty - the dye had caked in places, causing her mane to become matted. Using her magic to separate the chunks, Sweetie Belle checked out her reflection in the puddle. Even though the manecut was horrible and the dye was weak (and likely to come out the next time she bathed, though Sweetie didn't imagine this would be a problem), Sweetie felt she quite liked the new style. Not because it was well done, but because it was her style, and she had done it by herself.
Sweetie Belle's new manecut made her look like a different pony. A rougher, less pleasant pony. Sweetie Belle doubted there would be anypony stealing from her tonight.
For the next hour, Sweetie Belle repeated the process on her tail, first cutting it short, and then colouring it with the remaining bottle. Now, she felt unrecognizable. As she finished, the sun began to rise.
Rolling out her blanket, Sweetie Belle contemplated how she could earn more money. She certainly couldn't just get a job in a shop - her appearance and lack of credentials would stop her from getting a job like that. Of course, Sweetie Belle knew there were other ways to get money. She could steal - Sweetie Belle didn't like the idea of becoming a thief, and getting caught might being sent back to Ponyville, but Sweetie knew that with no money, her situation could quickly become desperate.
Of course, she could beg. She knew she was unlikely to receive much, but it was better than stealing, surely. After all, she was small, relatively skinny and covered in bruises, sure to stir some hearts.
What talents did she have? Everypony had always told her she was a good singer, but she wasn't so sure that was true. Perhaps she could sing for money. Busking. Sounded a lot more dignified than begging, definitely.
Sweetie Belle rolled over and slept, while the sun rose over Fillydelphia.
Sweetie Belle had been sitting next to a post office for three hours now, head bowed, holding a piece of card which read:
HOMELESS. ALL HELP APPRECIATED.
The message wasn't even hers - she had copied it from another begging pony. She was having very little luck - so far, she had received three bits in three hours, and had changed location twice. In addition to being outright ignored, she had occasionally been subjected to verbal abuse and threats of violence from other ponies, and propositions from innumerable stallions, sometimes offering her large sums of money to go away with them, most often making crude and explicit remarks. Silence, she had found, was the most effective way of getting them to leave.
Sweetie Belle knew this venture was doomed, and that she should pack up and try something new, like busking, but she didn't. She knew it was ridiculous, but she was too embarrassed to start. What if she sounded terrible? Other ponies would just laugh at her.
But so what? Sweetie had nothing to lose. After all, everypony had told her she could sing, and they had no reason to lie. Sweetie should at least try.
Sweetie Belle wasn't sure why, but she recalled a song Countess Coloratura had sung for Ponyville. The message of the song had stuck with Sweetie Belle - be who you really are. Of course, being who she was had put her in this position - but perhaps it could also help her out.
Sweetie Belle stood up, brushing off the newspapers she had surrounded herself in, and cleared her throat. She had no idea how she was supposed to start, so she just launched into song.
As soon as she started, she saw ponies turn their heads. To Sweetie Belle, her voice was uplifting, filled with passion, energy and emotion, things she sorely missed. She could see other ponies turn their heads as she passed, but it wasn't until she hit the first chorus that somepony actually stopped to listen. By the time she had finished, there were three ponies listening, all of whom came forward to give.
Sweetie Belle waited until they had left, then rushed to check her donations. Seven bits. In just one song, she had received more than she had earned through three hours begging.
Feeling hopeful for the first time, Sweetie Belle racked her brains for another song she could sing.
Over the next few weeks, Sweetie Belle went through this same routine, travelling around the city and singing. She would never consider herself well-off, and she could never afford accommodation, spending her nights on street corners and alleyways, but it still earned her enough money to afford food, clean water and occasionally some more dye.
Her singing had improved since she had first started, and she had begun to consider singing elsewhere, perhaps even being paid for it. She still faced an issue with her appearance and hygiene - she had bought lice shampoo to deal with her infestation, but she still had patches of her coat missing, and she had not showered in weeks. Still, the busking would reliably bring in anywhere between ten and fifteen bits a day, more than enough to sustain her lifestyle.
Furthermore, she was becoming concerned about a pony she had seen multiple times over the past few weeks, a thin stallion with a deep blue coat and light blue mane. It seemed wherever she went, there he was. Sweetie Belle didn't quite know what to do about him, but the stallion always donated, so she supposed this current set-up was harmless. Maybe just liked her singing.
That prospect always made Sweetie Belle smirk. A fan. How unexpected.
Sweetie Belle knew she was living a pitiful existence, but in truth she did not care. In fact, she relished being independent and self sustaining. Of course, she knew she had nopony to rely on, and was only one day off from being in dire poverty, but still she cherished her new found career, and the freedom that came with it.
Then, one day as she was setting up outside a bar, she heard a pony approach. Looking up, she saw the same stallion that had been following her around. All of a sudden, Sweetie Belle became very aware of how empty the area was - in fact, she couldn't remember ever being alone with this stallion before.
'Good evening, Sweetie Belle'.
Sweetie froze. The stallion knew. Was he from the police, waiting for the right moment to arrest her? Sweetie Belle wasn't sure, and decided to play dumb.
'I-I'm sorry, who?'
'Come on, Sweetie Belle. You've done a good job of disguising it, but I've been observing for weeks. I'm not going to turn you in, I swear. I have an offer for you'.
Sweetie Belle's curiosity overrode her caution. 'An offer?'
'Yes. I know all about your case, how you ran away from home, how they think you're in Manehattan. An excellent diversion, but it didn't last long. Some ponies reported seeing you in Fillydelphia station, and now everypony thinks you're here.'
Sweetie Belle had known the Manehattan ploy would fail eventually, but she had never imagined she would be tracked to Fillydelphia. She waited for the stallion to continue, a sinking feeling in her stomach. This stallion had some serious blackmail over her - if she didn't like this 'offer', she might not be able to refuse.
'Well, I must say I'm impressed by the mane and tail. I daresay they've helped you evade capture, especially since you operate so openly. But you can't keep this up forever, Sweetie Belle. Sooner or later, you're going to get caught. But I think I can help you there.'
'Sweetie Belle, I run a bar. For some rather special patrons to meet... like-minded ponies. Anyway, for a long time we've been having trouble getting live talent, and I wanted to offer you that position. I've been watching you for some time now, and I must say you're exceptionally talented, and of course, your background makes you an even better choice.'
Sweetie Belle could barely believe what she was hearing. He was offering her a job?
'I don't understand... why not just hire a regular singer? Why follow me around?'
'Sweetie Belle, don't be naive. This isn't a regular bar we're talking about, you know?'
Sweetie Belle stared blankly for a moment, and then a look of comprehension dawned upon her face. Ohh...
The stallion continued. 'I know you need food, shelter and steady employment. After all, if you want to make it in this city, you've got to get yourself back up on your feet. Get a real job. So, what do you think?'
Sweetie Belle felt overwhelmed. 'I'm sorry, but I-I don't know. Maybe?'
'Well, I'll let you think about it. If you want to talk, come to the Solaris Bar, and ask for me. My name's Flawless Rainbow. Got it?'
Sweetie Belle nodded.
'Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you, Sweetie Belle. I hope to see you soon'.
Flawless Rainbow left, and Sweetie Belle quickly gathered up her belongings and left. She ducked inside a nearby doorway, and panicked.
In some ways, she wished she'd said yes. She needed a job, after all, and he had generously offered her one, despite her appearance. What had she been thinking?
Would performing put her at risk of being caught? Sweetie Belle knew what kind of bar this was. It was unlikely for anypony to admit they had seen her there, as it would require admitting they'd been there in the first place. Also, most of them wouldn't want to send her back - they'd accept her for who she was. That was another plus.
Only...
Was Flawless Rainbow telling the truth? After all, there were plenty of horror stories about fillies being abducted by stallions and manipulated into horrible situations.
The best course of action, Sweetie Belle decided, was to sleep on it.
Sweetie Belle's sleep was disturbed by a sudden blow to her head.
'Is that her? You're sure?'
'Of course I'm sure! She's changed her hair, but she's got the same saddlebag, and the same coat'.
Sweetie Belle scrambled to her feet, unable to focus clearly. She could see she was surrounded by ponies, but had no idea how many.
'Hit her again'.
Sweetie Belle felt herself receive a blow to her stomach. As she sunk to her knees, her vision stabilized, and she could make out four ponies surrounding her. Three of them were teenage colts she had never seen before, but the fourth was a small filly she knew well. It was the thief she had attacked under the bridge. Sweetie Belle saw her nose was severely disjointed, bent completely out of place, although given the current circumstances, Sweetie did not feel too bad.
'Why is she smiling? Hit her harder!'
Sweetie Belle curled up into a ball as the three colts started on her. They hit particularly hard, and with great accuracy, aiming for preexisting bruises to maximize the amount of pain caused.
'Okay, stop'.
Almost instantaneously, the onslaught stopped. Sweetie Belle opened her eyes, staring directly at the filly. 'You!'
The filly giggled, seemingly delighted to be recognized. 'Yeah, me. Still feeling so big and tough now, bitch?'
Sweetie Belle once again rose to her feet. The other colts became agitated by this, but the filly kept cool.
'What, you're gonna hit me again? Try it. Seriously, try it. Make my day'.
Sweetie Belle considered this seriously tempting possibility. She took a single step forwards, feinted towards the filly, and then immediately ran in the opposite direction, slipping through the three colts who had surged forwards, and running out of the alley, towards the street, ignoring the shriek of the filly behind her. All she had to do was get into the open. They wouldn't attack her there.
Sweetie Belle burst out into the street, nearly running directly into a carriage. Swiveling on the spot, she looked to find her assailants, but they had vanished.
But they'll be back.
Sweetie couldn't stay a single night longer on the streets of Fillydelphia. She had to find shelter, or she didn't know if she would wake up the next time she went to sleep.
Fortunately, she knew who she could call upon.
The Solaris Bar was certainly impressive, filled to the brim with noise and colourful lighting. Sweetie Belle was blocked at the door by a burly bouncer.
'No foals. Especially not rats like you'.
'I-I'm here to see Flawless Rainbow'.
Whatever the bouncer had been expecting, it wasn't that. Flustered, he apologized profusely to the small filly, gazing at her with wonder, and lead her inside, through a door marked 'STAFF ONLY', and down a flight of stairs.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was much quieter, the noise from upstairs no longer audible. Sweetie Belle was lead past tables of colts and mares, some of whom gaped at the filly being brought through.
Finally, Sweetie Belle was lead through a door labelled 'OFFICE'.
'Sir, this filly says she knows you'.
Flawless Rainbow turned, and his face lit up upon seeing Sweetie Belle. 'Ah, excellent. You may leave'.
When the bouncer left, Flawless Rainbow indicated for Sweetie Belle to take a seat. In the light, Sweetie Belle could make out the features of the stallion more clearly. His cutie mark was a small mirror, and his mane and tail were groomed to perfection.
'Sweetie Belle, welcome to the Flawless Rainbow. My name's Azure Meadow, and I run both of these bars. I'm very glad you've come to your senses, but we haven't got much time to talk, I'm afraid. First, I want to get you cleaned up, and then I want you on stage. I should also go and clear things up with the patrons - most of them won't expect to see a filly here. Are you ready to start?'
Sweetie Belle nodded. 'What do you want me to sing?'
'Anything, Sweetie Belle. You're the artist, after all'.