This Game of Mine

by Swan Song

13. Reflection Sum – Part 1

 
I blearily opened a single eye and was promptly assailed by an onslaught of infernal daylight.
 
Why? Why was there light?!
 
…Drat. I had completely forgotten to shut the curtains.
 
Silently, I urged the sun to cast itself away beneath the horizon from whence it came, hoping to once again submerge my mind within the blissful emptiness of sleep.
 
…But to no avail. The inexorable march of time seemed insistent on wrenching me from the safety of my dreams, no matter my reluctance.
 
I shoved the bed covers off myself, probably with a tinge more force than was necessary. But I didn’t care. I had every right to be angry. My impromptu excursion to Manehattan had thus far been a resounding disaster. As if it weren’t bad enough that I had to suffer Diamond’s jealous little spat prior to boarding the train, I had to deal with that entirely unnecessary confrontation by Sweetie Belle on the way here.
 
…Sweetie Belle. That infernal filly.
 
For Sun’s sake, I had known. I had prepared! Avoiding her and Button was the entire reason why I had chosen an earlier train, one that would depart just before school had gotten out! Had I known that they had planned to do the same, I’d have taken a different train!
 
And yet—and yet—she had the gall to accuse me of following her. How dare she. That foolish girl. Who did she think she was? Who did she think I was?!
 
…But it mattered not. Today was the first day of my weekend, and I was determined to make this trip worth my while.
 
All the pieces were in place to make this outing a success. My family’s deep-seeded connections with the elite in Manehattan meant that, with only a few suggestions to a dear friend of my mother’s—who just so happened to be the owner of one of the most prestigious hotels in the city—I was able to acquire an incredibly expensive suite with a gorgeous view overlooking Central Park for a paltry sum.
 
I stretched my legs and gazed out the window. My eyes were met with a glittering metropolis filled with life and possibility.
 
It was just me, myself, and Manehattan. And today, I would make this city mine.
 

 
Within moments of stepping beyond the threshold of my hotel, I was quickly swept up by the chaos beyond. Everywhere I looked, there were ponies trotting every which way, a constantly churning sea of life for as far as the eye could see.
 
Damn it all. I had taken this vacation specifically so that I could get away from ponies, not utterly submerge myself in— ouch!
 
“Sorry, little miss,” apologized a stallion as he swiftly strode past me.
 
“It’s quite alright,” I replied, “just please do watch where— agh!”
 
“Ey, watch it, kid!” grunted a mare that had bumped into me from behind.
 
“Kid?!” I whirled around to face her. “I’ll have you know, miss, I—!”
 
But she was already far ahead.
 
Grrr… this Sun-forsaken crowd—!
 
Quickly, I extricated myself from the crowd, retreating towards the door of the hotel from whence I had come, just to give myself a moment to breathe.
 
“I would advise against standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, Madame Silver,” said the hotel’s doorman.
 
“I gathered,” I snapped at him.
 
“Apologies, Madame.”
 
Damn it all. It had been far too long since my last excursion into Manehattan, and never had I done it alone. Loathe as I was to admit it, I was not used to dealing with such large crowds.
 
At least in a more intimate setting, I’d be able to just give these ponies a piece of my mind for their transgressions against my person. But with a crowd like this, I couldn’t even manage a word in edgewise before they just up and disappeared, never to be seen from again!
 
…And yes, I knew it was irrational and foolish of me to expect for anypony in this swarm to stop what they were doing just so I could give them what for, but still! At least the unwashed masses of Ponyville were much better behaved. If I had something to say, they’d likely stop to listen. After all, a fair majority of them recognized me. Here, nopony knew me at all.
 
…Hm.
 
Surely that was for the better?
 
They would never know my name, and I would scarcely know of theirs. These ponies could do nothing to enrich my life, nothing to advance my goals. And, in return, they knew nothing of me, sought nothing of me, expected nothing of me.
 
No pressure. No image to maintain. No legacy to uphold.
 
Staring towards the skyscrapers that loomed above, I could almost feel the city opening up, its embrace warm and inviting, its treasures glistening with opportunity and adventure. I could gallop in any direction and a cornucopia of concerts, restaurants, cinemas and shopping districts would be there to greet me at every destination.
 
And, best of all? Not a soul could hold me back. No scrutinizing sisters. No overbearing best friends. No unstable rivals. I could go anywhere, do anything, be anyone, and there were over a hundred miles of empty countryside separating me from anything that could stop me.
 
I was alone.
 
And I was free.
 

 
Staring groggily into the bathroom mirror, I could already see red lines spider-webbing their way across the whites of my eyes.
 
It was too damn early in the morning for this.
 
“C’mon Rarity,” I groaned. “Do we have to do this right now?”
 
“Hold still, young lady, it’ll be a few moments more,” my sister ordered as she continued to curl my mane. “And it’s well past sunrise. Considering that we all have a very big day ahead of us, I would have expected you to be more responsible in anticipating this.”
 
“Yeah, well, maybe I would have gotten more sleep if somepony hadn’t woken us up in the middle of the night,” I grunted.
 
Rarity coughed, a blush adorning her cheeks. “Ahem. Yes, well… considering the state in which I found you two, I assumed that maybe you had been up to something, er, indecent—”
 
“I already told you, nothing happened between us!” I groaned, feeling my own cheeks warm up in humiliation as I remembered how Rarity had frantically checked the sheets for ‘evidence’ of our supposed shenanigans. “We were just cuddling, and nothing more than that!”
 
She raised an eyebrow. “Honestly, listen to yourself! ‘Cuddling’? Forgive me if I find fault with the idea that such an act could be somehow devoid of intimacy—”
 
“Platonic cuddling is a thing, you know!” I snapped. “Seriously Rarity, you already know that Button and I don’t see each other that way.”
 
“Then all the more reason!” she asserted. “Sharing such close contact with a colt you don’t even have feelings for? You cannot afford to be careless with yourself, being so… so intimate with any boy that just so happens to canter—”
 
“He’s my best friend!” I said, heat from the anger mixing in with my embarrassment. “Just because I’m close to him doesn’t mean I’m being ‘intimate’ with—!”
 
“You are not a child anymore, Sweetie Belle!” Rarity suddenly snapped. “You are a young lady on the cusp of adulthood! Perhaps, three years ago, your objections would have been valid, but realize that the situation has changed! It matters not that you two are merely ‘friends’, you stand to ignite feelings in him that you cannot control, to say nothing of him!”
 
“Feelings?! Button doesn’t even—”
 
“This is not up for discussion, young lady!” she declared, her tone firm. “You are allowing the foolishness of your youth to cloud your judgment, and I will not stand for it, especially not with our schedule as packed as it is! Now kindly hold your tongue while I finish up with your mane, so we can just go.”
 
I gritted my teeth, but said nothing more. She was right—there was too much to worry about today, and it would do us no good to continue this argument now.
 
But… damn it, Rarity! I’m your little sister! Couldn’t you have even a little more faith in me to be responsible and take care of myself?!
 
…Well, as long as it had nothing to do with flammable objects, at least.
 
A few more moments passed in awkward silence before she finally put down the curling iron.
 
“Thanks,” I muttered half-heartedly, hopping off the stool and refusing to look at her as I made my way towards the bathroom door.
 
“…Sweetie Belle, please,” she said wearily.
 
I stopped, but didn’t turn around. “What, Rarity?”
 
I heard her hooves striking the tile as she slowly trotted towards me. “I want you to understand… It’s not like I’m in the business of silencing you. I’m just—”
 
“I know,” I muttered, finally turning around to face her. “You’re worried about me. It’s fine. I get it.”
 
“…Yes,” she said with a hesitant nod.
 
“And you just want me to be safe,” I continued, trotting towards her somewhat.
 
“Exactly.” A small smile began to grace her features.
 
“But you also said, and I quote, ‘you are not a child anymore’.”
 
Her eyes crossed at that. “Yes, well—”
 
“And, if I’m not a child anymore, that means I’m old enough to make my own decisions, right?”
 
“I suppose that’s true, but—”
 
“Which means that I’m responsible enough,” I said with finality, “to decide for myself who I will and won’t be close to.”
 
She stared at me for a moment, then heaved a great sigh, draping a hoof over her face. “Sweetie Belle, please—”
 
A sudden knock came from the door. “Um, Sweetie? Miss Rarity?”
 
Both of us whirled towards the door.
 
“Um, I don’t mean to interrupt the, uh, super-totally-not-awkward conversation you’re having about me that I definitely couldn’t hear through the bathroom door or anything… but, um, could you girls hurry it up a little? ‘Cause I’ve been out here for about twenty minutes now, and I… kinda sorta really need to pee.”
 
A moment passed as we stared at the door.
 
“…please?”
 
I turned to Rarity and flung a hoof out towards the door. “Seriously, him of all ponies? Why do you even worry? He’s probably, like, the least threatening thing in all of existence!”
 
Rarity snorted, her pained scowl finally broken by a crooked smile.
 
“…H-hey, I heard that!”
 
“Ahem, well!” Rarity stepped towards the door. “We’d best clear out so that Button can take care of his business, and then we can get going.”
 
“Yeah.” I made to open the door, but she put her hoof on mine, turning me to face her.
 
“This conversation is not over, Sweetie Belle,” she said, her face grave. “I’m willing to put a rain check on it so we can get moving, but… we have a lot to talk about when we get home.”
 
I sighed, then nodded my head. “Okay.”
 

 
As I wandered the pristine halls of the Manehattan Gallery of Equestrian History, weaving between meters-long murals of great battles and pedestals adorned with priceless artifacts, I breathed easy knowing that there was no Diamond Tiara to gaze holes into the back of my neck.
 
No doubt, had I brought her with me, she would be plodding along with half a heart, sparing not even a moment’s consideration for any of the timeless works on display and attempting to chase away her boredom by polluting the reverent atmosphere with her incessant prattle.
 
Approaching a stone tablet, I could already hear the ghostly visages of her voice permeating my mind.
 
“Who cares about this crap?” she would have said, throwing her hooves up in frustrated tedium. “It’s just a dumb rock covered in cavemare scrawlings!”
 
Cavemare scrawlings! Of the only surviving account of earth pony society prior to the Discordian era! Our Sun-forsaken ancestors resorted to imparting their legacy upon stone during a time when books could be set aflame and mana-archives rent asunder through chaotic magics, yet she would relegate their efforts to mere cavemare scrawlings.
 
Pah. For a girl of wealth, she was remarkably crude. But that was to be expected. After all, ponies of new money lacked a certain… refinement. The venerable Silver dynasty had built its reputation over centuries of industry, whereas Diamond’s lucrative little family business had but a single generation to its legacy. Their wealth was too young for them to fully appreciate, leaving them bereft of the years of experience necessary to understand the social mores of high society.
 
Not for lack of trying to acclimate on her mother’s part, of course. The ambitious Madame Proper had clearly been a quick study, if her mastery over her contemporaries and cohorts was any indication.
 
But it was clear that, had Madame Proper ever presented her daughter with that same opportunity to learn from her, Diamond had refused it outright. The girl was a barren wasteland, devoid of culture and refinement, a child pawing at the coattails of high society without ever once daring to grasp it.
 
Diamond forewent the stage, the symphony, even the study of her own family business, to instead fill her time with vapid Bridleway gossip in between bouts of socially terrorizing her lessers… hobbies that were, perhaps, valuable for competitive networking, but of little utility in a vacuum.
 
Considering how greatly our personal interests diverged, it was a miracle that we got along to begin with. There was precious little that I actually shared in common with her.
 
Thus, it was such that, when Diamond had confronted me, demanding to know where I was going, I simply told her the truth: in order to distance myself from the drama surrounding recent events in Ponyville, I was leaving to Manehattan on a short sabbatical. And she was not invited.
 
Had I been worried that I was alienating Diamond Tiara? Perhaps. After all, she was my greatest and closest friend.
 
But those fears had been quickly snuffed within moments of my entering the museum. For a whole two hours, I had been free to seek out my own pleasures within these storied halls of classical antiquity. There was no fear that Diamond Tiara might disapprove, no concern that I would be driving my friend to boredom… no pressure weighing me down, at all.
 
I had enough of Diamond to last the week.
 
But these last few days?
 
They were for me.
 

 
“…and after I drop you kids off, I have to head straight to the luncheon, followed by the interview, and a dress rehearsal immediately afterwards,” explained Rarity as we made our way along the busy sidewalks of Manehattan. “Assuming I can even make it to the luncheon by noon, what with all this hoof-traffic!”
 
“Seriously, Rarity, we have time,” I said, patting her shoulder with a free hoof—though it was a little tricky at our pace. “Don’t worry so much. If all else fails, I can head to the event myself just fine.”
 
“Not in this crowd!” she protested. “You’d get lost in moments!”
 
“Umm, help!” squeaked a voice to my right.
 
For what felt like the twentieth time, I stuck an arm out to my right, snatched Button’s hoof, and dragged him forwards so that he was marching nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with me.
 
“T-thanks,” he muttered.
 
“Just hang tight and quit letting your eyes wander,” I said.
 
“Sorry.”
 
“Case in point, Sweetie,” Rarity affirmed. “You two would get swallowed up in ten seconds were you—”
 
“It’s just a crowd, mom,” I groaned sarcastically. “Not like it’s gonna gobble me up for dinner or something.”
 
“As far as you know! Just hurry along and keep Button close.”
 
Pfft! Well okay then, Miss No-Close-Contact. No doubt Rarity would have vehemently opposed to this in a hundred different ways under better circumstances.
 
Heh. I wondered how she’d react if she ever saw us at his house. I couldn’t even begin to count the number of times I had ended up leaning on his shoulder during late night gaming sessions. She’d probably throw a fit.
 
Oh well. What sis didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her!
 
“I coulda sworn this place was a lot closer last night,” Button grumbled.
 
“We’re actually here,” I pointed out, indicating the looming Surely Suede sign.
 
“Finally!” breathed Button in relief.
 
Disentangling ourselves from the swarming crowd, we finally stepped through the entrance of the shop. A telltale chime revealed our presence, but a cursory inspection of the store revealed that nopony was around to notice our entry.
 
“Miss Suri?” Rarity called out. “It’s Rarity, from yesterday evening! Are you in?”
 
No answer.
 
Maybe she was hidden behind a display or something? I trotted towards the center of the store, but found no sign of her. “Weird.”
 
“Do you think maybe she’s in back?” asked Button.
 
“Let’s go check.”
 
As we approached the backroom, we could hear a strange mechanical whirring emanating from the doorway.
 
“A sewing machine,” muttered Rarity. “Don’t tell me…”
 
Without further prompting, Button darted through the doorway.
 
“Button, wait a sec!”
 
I quickly followed him into the shop’s workroom and, upon rounding the corner, we found the place in a state of total disaster. The floor was littered with stray design sheets and scattered threads, and almost every visible surface was draped in stray pieces of cloth.
 
And, towards the side, seated at a buzzing sewing machine with a tattered mane and a drooping posture, was…
 
“Miss Coco?” I asked.
 
“Huh wha—?!” The mare’s head shot up and spun around. “I’m sorry, Miss Suri, I— whoaah!” Within seconds, Miss Coco had slipped out of her stool and toppled to the ground, flinging a jumble of papers and errant scraps of fabric into the air.
 
“Goodness gracious!” Rarity exclaimed, striding through the storm of detritus to help Miss Coco to her hooves. “Are you alright, darling?”
 
“Hunnghhhhh...” groaned the flustered mare, wiping her face and looking up. “Yeah, I think I’ll— Lady Rarity?!” She shrieked and leapt to her hooves. “Oh my goodness, it’s you, I mean— I’m so sorry, the dress is— I had no idea you’d be here so early—”
 
“Relax, dear,” hushed Rarity, righting the stool with her magic and guiding Miss Coco back onto it. “What’s going on?”
 
“Nothing, I just—” As she sat down, her shoulders immediately slumped and she yawned. Widely. “…Oh gosh. My apologies, Lady Rarity. Even though I stayed up all last night to finish the dress, I’m still not quite there… but don’t worry, all I have left to do is—”
 
“You stayed up all night?” Rarity stepped back a bit. “I can’t imagine it would have taken that long.”
 
“Mhm,” nodded Miss Coco, suppressing another yawn. “We never planned to produce any variants of that piece in a filly’s size, so I had to sketch out new designs and cut the fabric myself, along with—”
 
“No, I understand that refitting a mare’s dress for a child isn’t exactly a drive-through order, but I’m still shocked that it took two seamstresses all night to—”
 
“Er, it’s only me,” said Miss Coco, glancing back at the table with a tired sigh. “Suri hasn’t come in yet.”
 
I glanced at Button, who gave me the same look in return. “…Has she come in at all since we left last night?”
 
“…No,” declared Miss Coco with a darkening expression. “No, she has not.”
 
Somehow I wasn’t surprised.
 
“I’m sorry, Lady Rarity,” said Miss Coco with a defeated look in her eyes. “I know you wanted this dress by morning, but I’ll still need a bit more time…”
 
“No apologies necessary, dear,” said Rarity, turning to the machine with a small frown. “We were planning to have Sweetie Belle wear it for an event, but she can certainly do without it for at least a few hours. Fret not, you still have plenty of time.”
 
“Oh… okay.” Somehow this made Miss Coco look… even more resigned? Memories of hushed voices flashed through my mind, and I quickly connected the dots.
 
“Miss Coco,” I said, approaching her. “Didn’t you say you had plans with your sister?”
 
Rarity raised an eyebrow.
 
“I… you heard that?” Miss Coco blinked. “Yes, she’s coming from out of town, and I was supposed to pick her up from the train station in a couple hours, but… you’re our client, and I can’t neglect my responsibility to you.” She sighed, but appeared to steel her resolve. “Besides, I’ve already spent all night working on this, and I’m so close to being finished with the dress. I can’t just give up now. Not when I know that such a sweet little mare like you will be the one to wear it.”
 
The mare turned her demure smile towards me, and while her sincerity warmed me to my very core… I could see it marred by weary cracks.
 
I glanced at Rarity, who was staring at Miss Coco with a look of intense consideration. It wasn’t long before she seemed to reach a conclusion. She squinted at a curtain next to the sewing desk, then began trotting towards it. “Coco, how much work remains until it’s ready?”
 
“Well, the measurements have already been implemented into the designs. I’ve sketched them out onto the sheets, and I have all of the swatches prepared. All that’s left is to cut the patterns and place them, which shouldn’t take more than a couple of— er, Lady Rarity, what are you—? No, wait, please! It’s not—”
 
Too late. Rarity had pulled back the curtain, revealing a small standing marrequin adorned with what appeared to be a near-finished version of the dress.
 
“Wow,” Button said in awe.
 
No kidding. Despite its incomplete state, it was already looking more gorgeous than I remembered. I mean, I guess I didn’t really have enough experience in dressmaking to say for sure, but beyond the size differences, I could have sworn the design was subtly different from the one on the display outside.
 
“Ooh, I don’t remember this little number being a part of the original,” said Rarity, examining a loose frill with her hoof and confirming my suspicions.
 
“Y-yes, I added that last night,” said Miss Coco, blushing furiously. “Since I was adapting the dress to a filly, I wanted to make a few changes that would better express her youth, which meant—”
 
“—wider arcing forms along the hem, a layered chiffon petticoat in complementary shades, and a cut-out on the right haunch that reveals her cutie mark,” Rarity observed, as she stepped back from the piece.
 
“…Plus a single ribbon-and-lace garter on the left rear leg to balance the arrangement, yes,” added Miss Coco. “Though, I realize too late now that these changes are no doubt to blame for my delays in—”
 
“Spectacular,” Rarity declared, causing Miss Coco to wince in surprise. “So subtle are the modifications that they preserve the allure of the piece’s simplicity, yet so potent is their impact that it resonates across every weave to revitalize the dress for a wholly distinctive individual.”
 
She turned to the petite mare, beaming. “Très magnifique, Miss Coco. Already it was an impressive design, but this is the work of an artisan. You are a brilliant gem in a sea of mediocrity. How long has Miss Suri kept you buried here?”
 
Miss Coco blinked, apparently lost for words. But a small smile emerged as she processed the compliment.
 
“…Thank you, Lady Rarity. You’re too kind.”
 
“I can see what’s left to be done,” said Rarity, turning back to the marrequin. “The lapel shawl, the blouse’s puff sleeves, the… oh dear, that’s certainly a lot of things. Definitely more than an hour’s work for a lone seamstress. Hmm… and this little bit is quite tricky indeed, but one need only respond to tricky problems with tricky solutions— oh, pardon me, Button.”
 
“Huh? Wha— yipe!” Button dodged to the side as a bolt of fabric whizzed past his head and straight towards a second sewing machine, which reactivated with a loud whirr.
 
“L-Lady Rarity?” stammered Miss Coco, approaching Rarity with caution as the mare suddenly lifted dozens of design templates off the desk and began reorganizing them in mid-air. “What are you—”
 
“If I sequester the grueling task of machining the remaining filler patterns—” Rarity whisked more than half of the papers towards the second table “—and leave you with just these—” she collated the remaining sheets into a much less intimidating stack “—it should lower your workload by a considerable margin.”
 
Miss Coco’s eyes widened, and when she responded, hers was a tone of disbelief mixed with dawning comprehension. “…Lady Rarity, you couldn’t possibly be proposing to—”
 
“Granted, you’ll still be left to contend with the more intricate cuts and accessories,” continued Rarity as she tilted her head to glance at the leftover stack. “But to deprive such a fine artist like yourself the opportunity to preside over the most cherished facets of your design? Why, I could scarcely imagine a greater insult.”
 
As Rarity’s magic transformed the room into a sea of activity, Miss Coco could only watch in stunned awe. I couldn’t blame her. Countless times I had borne witness to this display, and yet it never failed to steal my breath.
 
“No, no, the generics will do,” she continued, her casual and relaxed tone in stark contrast to the storm of commotion she was creating. “After all, they are naught but mind-numbing busywork, mere speed bumps along the road to the realization of your creative vision. And I’d wager that relieving you of said obstacles will easily cut down on your remaining time estimate by… oh, say, half? Perhaps even two-thirds?”
 
She turned back to Miss Coco with a beaming smile and a friendly wink. “So? What say you?”
 
Miss Coco flopped to her hindquarters, jaw agape. Honestly, I shared her surprise. What in all the Stars could Rarity hope to gain from this that she would commit to it?
 
“I… I don’t know what to say,” began Miss Coco in a wavering tone. “To have you, the Lady Rarity, work with me on one of my designs? I couldn’t put into words how much of an honor that would be.”
 
“Oh, dearest Miss Coco Pommel, the honor is mine,” replied Rarity, her eyes glittering with barely-restrained wonder. “Before me is a chance to witness the handiwork of a prodigiously-talented artist such as yourself. I wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this for the world.”
 
“Uh, about that,” interrupted Button, who stepped forward, clearly unphased. “Don’t you have a luncheon to attend in, like, an hour?”
 
“I’m aware of that, my dear,” said Rarity, sweeping all of her materials over to the second machine. “But what else am I to do? I can’t sit by and watch as Miss Coco is forced to sacrifice family and sanity for the sake of her career.”
 
So… you’d sacrifice your career for hers?
 
“Besides, the luncheon is merely an opportunity to schmooze, and is thus entirely optional. As long as I show up for the actual interview, there shouldn’t be any concerns.”
 
Oh. Well then. I guess that worked out!
 
“So… I guess that means we can head to the event alone?” I asked her.
 
“Yes, go right ahead!” she confirmed with a rapid nod of her head. “I’ll stay here with Miss Coco to get your dress finished, and we should have it done in time for her to deliver it to the hotel before your event begins in earnest. Do you remember which hotel it is and how to get there?”
 
Hah. I barely remembered how to get around Ponyville. “It’s, like, Whinny Ar-something, right?”
 
“Waldam Astoria,” she corrected with a hapless sigh. “Down the street, right at Central Park, past the train station for a few blocks. You’ll recognize it as soon as you get there, it’s one of the most opulent hotels in the city.”
 
“Sure thing. You remember that for me, Button, I suck at directions.”
 
“As always.” He rolled his eyes and gave me a dorky smile.
 
“Well then, it’s settled!” she declared, waving a hoof. “Run along, you two! And do be careful!”
 
“’Kay, bye Rarity!” I said, trotting towards the door. “Good luck with your interview!”
 
With a parting smile and a wave, we waded back into the streets of Manehattan.
 

 
Diamond might have enjoyed this.
 
…No. I couldn’t think like that.
 
Diamond wasn’t here. I didn’t want her here. I had explicitly decided I wouldn’t have her here.
 
I mean, sure, I suppose we often found ourselves as I was now, relaxing on a grassy knoll in the park, enjoying a quaint brunch while exchanging mild pleasantries over the relaxing purr of the park’s denizens. And, all things considered, Manehattan Central Park wasn’t all that different from Ponyville Memorial Park.
 
Though the raised auditorium was certainly a nice touch. As of this moment, there was a string quartet amidst a soothing performance of the classics. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment, allowing the calming aural waves to wash over me like a warm spring breeze.
 
No doubt the tranquil beauty of this place would have been utterly lost on Diamond. Were the girl here, she would almost certainly be attempting to override the moment with relentless gossip, or demanding that we trot off to engage in something more exciting. She never was one to stop and enjoy the moment, as it were.
 
This was my chance to enjoy myself, and I was going to take advantage of it. Leaving Diamond behind had, absolutely, been the right decision, regardless of how she felt about it.
 
…Ironic.
 
Just a month ago, if anypony had suggested that I had somehow earned the ire of my best friend, I’d have laughed in their face. In all the years that we had known each other, Diamond and I had rarely ever butted heads… mainly because I had gotten so good at reading my friend that I could easily dance around any potential landmines.
 
Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad? She was insufferable on occasion, but…
 
No. What was I thinking? I made this choice on purpose, and I had my reasons. Despite how gratifying it was to make Diamond twirl to my tune… her force of personality was sometimes just too much to bear. And it had most certainly reached critical mass last week, to the point where it was exhausting just to imagine spending time with her.
 
Recent events had Diamond on a hair trigger. She was volatile and primed to explode without warning, and I refused to be within the blast radius when it inevitably happened. I needed to put as much space between myself and the events of Ponyville as possible, Diamond included.
 
If anything, that was truly the reason why I had rejected her, and her response had completely validated it. I wasn’t surprised when she had gotten angry, and bitter, and possessive, and entitled, and all the other things she was wont to do when she didn’t get her way. All of it fit her modus operandi to the letter. She wanted things her way, always, all the time, and this had merely been her attempt to guilt-trip me into bowing down.
 
Unfortunately for little Miss Diamond Tiara, she did not get to have what she wanted unless I said so.
 
She may have been my best friend, but she did not dictate the terms of our friendship.
 
I did.
 
…
 
Still. Perhaps I should have made more of an effort to assuage her concerns. We didn’t leave on the best of terms… but then again, it wasn’t like there was enough time for me to do so, especially not with her yelling at me.
 
I’d just have to figure out how to make it up to her when I got back, and do what I could to enjoy myself without her.
 
It wouldn’t be that hard.
 
Would it?
 

 
As the day progressed and we made our way closer to Central Park, we found navigating the streets of Manehattan to be much less traumatic. Which was nice. I think my brain definitely needed some space to process everything that had happened so far. The conversation with Button last night, the argument with Rarity in the morning, the debacle with Miss Coco… so much had gone down, and we hadn’t even made it to the event yet.
 
Thankfully, Button had kept quiet throughout most of the journey. We held fast with interlocked hooves so as to not get separated, but words were rarely exchanged beyond the bare essentials for navigation.
 
If anything, it seemed like he was in the same position. No doubt the last few days had been weighing heavily on his mind as well. I stared at his face for a bit, and it seemed like his eyes were towards either the sky or the floor, his expression sedate in silent contemplation. Two words that rarely fit with Button.
 
What was going through the head of my best friend?
 
Suddenly, he looked up to meet my gaze. “Hey Sweetie Belle?”
 
Welp! I did a short double-take, hoping he didn’t notice that I had been staring. “W-what’s up, Button?”
 
I gave him my best smile, hoping to hide my inner turmoil. To be honest, my own mind was such a festering whirlwind of emotions and discoveries that even I wasn’t sure if I was ready to help him work through his thoughts.
 
Nevertheless, I braced myself for what would no doubt be a weighty conver—
 
“Do you think we could stop for food?”
 
…Oh.
 
Well, at least it wasn’t anything heavy. Plus, I was getting pretty hungry too.
 
“Sure,” I said with a silent relief. “Central Park is only another block away or so. There’s probably a café or something we can hit up once we’re there.”
 
“Phew,” he said in relief. “I could use a bite. And a place to sit and think for a bit.”
 
…Guess I wasn’t wrong after all.
 
“Same,” I muttered.
 
Eventually we reached Central Park, and I breathed easy. I had always been fond of the place myself. There was something romantic about an absolutely massive stretch of nature that went on for what seemed like miles, just sitting smack dab in the middle of the city.
 
Button seemed similarly-impressed. “Holy smokes. This place is huge.”
 
“What, never been here before?” I asked.
 
“This is my first time to Manehattan ever,” he said. “Nopony told me they built a national park in the middle of it.”
 
“Haha, it’s not a national park, silly.”
 
“Looks big enough to be. How big is this place?”
 
“A couple miles both ways? I dunno. It’s like three dozen city blocks thataway.”
 
“Wow.” He gazed around at the sprawl of greenery. “Seems like a nice place to lose yourself in.”
 
“Yeah…”
 
Looks like I really wasn’t alone on needing a break from everything.
 
As predicted, we found a small café bordering the south entrance. We grabbed a couple of alfalfa sandwiches and sodas and made our way to a grassy shade under a tree, where we finally had a chance to relax and enjoy the Manehattan afternoon.
 
For a while, we ate in silence, staring out at the rest of the park. Other families were out and about enjoying their Saturday, and there were kids much younger than us running around, having fun, without a care in their lives. I stared at them, envious, trying to remember what it was like to be as young as they were, not having to worry about anything.
 
I mean, it’s not like my life was hard. It was just…
 
Just…
 
“Complicated,” I muttered aloud.
 
“Huh?” Button looked up at me, confused.
 
“When did everything get so complicated?” I asked, staring at my sandwich.
 
Button gave me a thoughtful look. “Yeah. This has been a pretty kaizo week.”
 
“First this stupid cutie mark,” I continued. “Then my parents. Then Diamond. Then the Headmaster. Then Mister Rich. Then friggin’ Silver Spoon on the train. Now Miss Coco?”
 
“I’m still kinda blown away that your sister would do that,” he said.
 
“I honestly wish she didn’t commission that dress in the end,” I said with a sigh. “Miss Coco wouldn’t have stayed up all night to do it.”
 
“Yeah, but everything’s okay now, isn’t it?” He rested his head on his hooves. “She was super-stoked when Miss Rarity offered to work on the dress with her.”
 
“I guess. It still made things mega-complicated for everyone. I feel bad for her sister.”
 
“It’ll work out in the end. The train station’s on the way to the hotel, so she can pick her sister up before she drops off the dress.”
 
“Lucky her. Still doesn’t change how stupid it all was, and how easily we could have avoided it.”
 
“I… sure? I mean, yeah, but—“
 
“All of this is friggin’ stupid,” I ranted. “I don’t get how stupid everyone has to be, why everyone over the last week has had to be such raging douche-canoes—”
 
“Sweetie.” I looked up at him, bewildered by his stern tone. “You’re going tilt.”
 
The heat bristled at my cheeks. “Shut up, Button. This isn’t Eternity.”
 
“It doesn’t have to be,” he asserted. “You’re getting worked up, and it’s messing with your head.”
 
I began to shoot back, but he cut me off.
 
“Seriously, filly. Cool it. Things are gonna work out. We can go to the event. Miss Coco will bring the finished dress. We can be total badasses at the tournament. Stop worrying so much about last week and all this crap. Just be happy.”
 
“Easy for you to say,” I snapped, glaring at him. “We can’t all be happy and goofy and hyper all the time like you are.”
 
He snorted. “Really, Sweetie Belle? You think I’m happy all the time just because I act like it?”
 
I opened my mouth to retort… but then I remembered last night. How vulnerable he seemed. How scared. It was a side of him I’d never seen before.
 
“I seem happy all the time because I want to be,” he continued. “It makes it easier to forget that sometimes, I’m not happy.”
 
Then what was it? Were you happy, or weren’t you? “How is that any different than just lying to yourself?”
 
“Because if you do it enough, it stops being a lie.”
 
…So that’s why you were so damn bubbly all the time? Just because you wanted to fool yourself into being happy? It didn’t make sense to me.
 
“I don’t get it,” I said finally.
 
“Ugh.” He furrowed his brow in frustration. I could tell that my inability to understand was kinda driving him up a wall, but he still seemed determined to convince me. “Okay, I dunno how exactly to explain it, but… it’s not really that you have to ‘lie to yourself’ about all the bad stuff in your life. It’s kinda like you just… focus less on it, you know? Think about the good stuff. And be happy about that good stuff.”
 
“Thinking about the good stuff doesn’t just magically make the bad stuff go away,” I pointed out.
 
“No, but it but it makes the bad stuff easier to deal with when you remember why you’re fighting through it.”
 
I… guess?
 
“It doesn’t always work,” he admitted. “Sometimes, it just gets too heavy to deal with. And it becomes really hard to focus on the happiness. But there’s no sense in not trying, you know?”
 
“Then are you just fighting against your own sadness all the time? That sounds exhausting.”
 
“It is. But it’s better than giving in.”
 
“But you don’t have to be like that all the time, Button. You don’t always have to fight.”
 
“I know. And I remembered that last night. And I’m thankful for it. For you.” He gave me a warm smile. “All that stuff from my past? It hurt. It hurt a lot. But you helped me work through it, and now it’s over with and I can move on.”
 
“It’s not that easy,” I muttered.
 
“No, and that’s why I cried last night,” he said. “But after I got that out of my system, I knew there wasn’t any point in letting it get to me all the time, because the past is something I can never change, no matter how hard I try. And neither can you.”
 
I felt my eye twitch. “So I’m helpless? I can’t control anything? How is that supposed to help me?”
 
“You’re not helpless, Sweetie Belle,” he declared. “Neither am I. Even if I can’t change the past, something I can change is today, and tomorrow, and the future. Because right now, I’ve got a lot going for me. I have Eternity, I have the Crusaders, I have you… Why let the past hurt me when stuff that awesome is in my life?”
 
…It made sense. All of it. He was right.
 
“So… why?” I said through gritted teeth.
 
“Why what?”
 
I clenched my eyes shut as memories invaded my mind.
 
My parents yelling at me. Diamond Tiara bullying my friends. The eyes of everypony in Ponyville, staring, scrutinizing, judging me.
 
“Why does it still hurt so much?”
 
I felt it. I felt their eyes. I felt the hurt. I felt the sting of pavement against my face as Captain Romana forced me to the ground. I felt the sense of betrayal as Shadow Song revealed how close he had been to me all my life. I felt the fear from when Silver Spoon confronted me on the train.
 
I felt the confusion of my cutie mark, its meaning, and what it meant for my destiny. I felt the weight of my future, bearing down on me, not caring how unprepared I was to meet it. I felt the pressure of all the expectations that I would soon be forced to confront as I was thrown out into the world with no idea how I’d survive.
 
I felt the tears, threatening to break free.
 
I felt the hurt.
 
I felt a softness on my shoulder.
 
“I know it hurts, Sweetie Belle,” came Button’s voice. “I know it’s real. It’s never not going to be real.”
 
“Then how?” I choked. “How do I make it stop?”
 
I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see me cry… but instead I felt my cheek brush against his shoulder.
 
“You don’t make it stop,” he whispered, his voice soft, yet firm. I felt his forelegs wrap around my shoulders. “You just fight through it.”
 
“How?”
 
“Think about something else. Think about now.”
 
“Now? What was that supposed to mean?”
 
“I dunno! Like, about the stuff out here.”
 
“Out here?”
 
“Yeah. Out here. The park. It’s nice out here, isn’t it?”
 
…Yeah. Yeah, it was nice out here. I could hear kids laughing. Trees rustling. In the far distance, there was the din of traffic from the streets, and the hustle and bustle of the ponies that traversed it.
 
I could hear the rosy tones of a violin sweetening the air. Probably a busker? No, more sounds were joining in. A cello. A piano. There was a string trio out there somewhere, starting a public performance.
 
I shuddered, but took a deep, shuddering breath, soaking it all into my mind.
 
In. Out.
 
“Now think about the other cool things in your life,” came Button’s voice again. “The cool stuff. The stuff that makes you happy. Think about your sister, and how awesome she is for always being there for you.”
 
A quaint dinner. My favorite food. A bottle of cream soda. A beaming smile. Two glittering blue eyes. And lips that uttered their unconditional support.
 
“Think about the other Crusaders, and how excited they are for your cutie mark.”
 
Scootaloo, standing in her chair, regaling us with epic tales of my pretend future, the rest of us reduced to laughter.
 
“Think about Sanctuary, and Miss Prosperity, and how you’re about to go meet an Eternity developer in the flesh.”
 
Billowing brown locks beneath a tricorn hat. Being reduced to a blubbering mess as one of the creators of my second home stood before me. Praising me.
 
“Awesome stuff, right?”
 
…Yeah.
 
Yeah, it was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?
 
“Also, you know,” he added. “Me.”
 
I blinked. “…You?”
 
“I’m, you know… pretty awesome too.”
 
…Pfft.
 
“…Right?” he ventured.
 
“Damn it, Button,” I muttered, choking back a laugh.
 
“W-what?” he huffed.
 
“Nothing, nothing.”
 
I never imagined there’d be a day where I’d find your stupid nasally voice in any way soothing, but here we were, I guess.
 
I pulled back, wiping at my eyes. My hooves came away perfectly dry.
 
“Feeling better?” he asked with a hint of cautious hope.
 
Tenderly, my awareness poked around inside my mind for any trace of the pain from earlier. It was still there, but it felt… numb. Distant. It was thrumming under the surface, but it wasn’t an overwhelming pressure like it had been a few minutes ago.
 
“…Yeah. Yeah, I feel a lot better.” I released a deep breath and looked up at him. “Thanks, Button.”
 
“Anytime.” He leaned back, but his hoof never left my shoulder. “And listen, you gotta talk about this stuff too. Don’t bottle it all up like that. I’ve been with you this entire week, and so have the rest of the Crusaders. We know your head’s a mess. We’re here if you need to cry for a bit. Just like you were for me.”
 
“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.” I sniffled. “Maybe… maybe tonight. After today is over and we get back to the hotel. I think I could use a chance to unwind.”
 
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “But you’ll be alright for now?”
 
“I think so.” I nodded my head.
 
“Good.” He stood up and held a hoof out for me, a toothy grin overcoming his face. “’Cause we’ve got a tournament to get to.”
 
“…Yeah.” I grasped his hoof in mine with a loud clap. At his touch, I felt his strength surging through my veins, like the warmth of a hot stew on a cold day. I felt it loosen my joints, flood my face, and fill my heart with confidence.
 
It was much easier to smile now, and so I returned his with a wide grin of my own. “Let’s go be awesome together.”
 
“Heck yeah. Together.”
 

 
I had no destination left in mind but my hotel. What was the point of doing anything else? Where was there left to go?
 
It had only been half a day of wandering aimlessly along the sidewalks of Manehattan—past the shops and the signs, through all the ponies whose faces I would never remember, whose names I would never know—and already I could tell that the weightless sense of liberty that had carried me through the morning had faded away.
 
The spectacle of the city had worn off, its sights and sounds a sea of white noise, mere window dressing to a life that wasn’t mine. Its people were aliens—impersonal, uncaring, irrelevant. To me, they were nothing. To them, I was nothing.
 
I was alone.
 
And I regretted it.
 
I regretted not having a direction to walk, a place to go, an activity to undertake. I regretted not having a single soul with whom I could potentially share those experiences. I regretted not having a stream of conversation to chase away the endless noise of nothingness.
 
I regretted not being wanted—needed—by somepony for no other reason than the fact that I was me.
 
…
 
…I regretted leaving Diamond behind.
 
She was my best friend. We did everything together. And without her, it all seemed for naught.
 
I should have seen it coming. I should have known it would be like this. For Sun’s sake, the warning signs had been brought to bear against me not two days ago, that sunny Ponyville afternoon when I had walked home alone from school for the first time in what felt like years.
 
And still I had ignored it. Why had I been I so foolish? What had made me think that leaving her behind was by any means a good idea? How come I didn’t just listen to her? How did I—?
 
…Listen to her?
 
Why would I need to listen to her?
 
She did not dictate the terms of our friendship. I did.
 
…
 
Did I?
 
Was I truly the one in control?
 
Or was she?
 
…No. No. This was a dangerous line of thinking. I was better than this. I was better than her.
 
‘A coward without your snobby little friend to hide behind.’
 
No. I’m an independent mare. I don’t need Diamond in my life, I can take of myself. Look at how much I’ve accomplished on my own!
 
‘It’s not like there’s anyone else in this backwater besides me that’s worth spending time with.’
 
“No. You’re wrong. I have friends. I have my networking contacts. I have my entire business! You aren’t my world!”
 
‘You’re just her bitch that does her dirty work!’
 
“How dare you!”
 
‘A cowardly dog too afraid to do anything without her master!’
 
“You’re wrong!”
 
I felt the heat rise in my chest. These accusations, they stung, burnt, like whips against flesh, biting at me, snapping at my sanity, tearing apart my pride. I wouldn’t stand for it! The Crusaders… Sweetie Belle… how dare she, how dare they…!
 
“I am not the dog, I am the master!”
 
The words, cold with fury, echoed back into my ears.
 
…Oh dear.
 
Where was I?
 
…Just an alleyway. Somehow, I had steered myself off the street into a quiet, unassuming little crevice between buildings. Nopony was around.
 
I was alone. Not a soul had been here to witness my outburst.
 
…
 
No. That was a lie. I had said those very words. Yesterday.
 
To Sweetie Belle.
 
…Why?
 
“Because my integrity was on the line,” I said to nopony in particular. “She challenged my pride, and I wouldn’t stand for it.”
 
Did it matter? I was a saboteur, I operated in the shadows and I never showed my hand.
 
“That’s right!” I asserted. “I am!”
 
And yet I told her everything. Why reveal myself to the idiot girl?
 
“Because she’s wrong! She’s a fool who would dare levy such foolish accusations against me!”
 
Then why did I let it get to me? Had her words truly incensed me so?
 
“Nothing incenses me! I am always in control!”
 
Then why, you stupid dog?!
 
“I AM NOT A DOG, I AM THE MASTER!”
 
I shouted at nothing. I didn’t care. The words had already left my mouth, and in between my panting breaths, I could still hear them reverberating across the alleyway.
 
Even I could tell how hollow they were.
 
The Crusaders were right.
 
Sweetie Belle was right.
 
Diamond was in control. She had always been in control. She chose where we went, what we did, and how long we did it. I merely upheld whatever demands she pleased. She formed the backbone of all my most meaningful social interactions.
 
I suppose she was easy to manipulate. I suppose it was my choice to be her friend. I suppose I had the power to subtly influence her actions in my favor.
 
But it didn’t change the fact that, ultimately, all of my decisions were predicated on hers. Without her, I was lost, alone, and aimless. An accessory without a wearer. A shield without a sword. A harmony without a melody.
 
In my efforts to dominate Diamond, I had unwittingly enslaved myself to her whimsy.
 
Why had I been such a fool? How did I not realize that I had come to rely entirely on Diamond for my own happiness? How did I realize that she had wormed her way into every inch of my world?
 
…No.
 
There was one place where her hooves couldn’t touch, where I could exercise my own free will, entirely devoid of her influence.
 
Eternity.
 
That Sun-forsaken game. I had only played it to get close to Sweetie Belle, to reinforce my superiority over her.
 
But now? Now, it was a diversion, a means for me to fill the void left behind by Diamond’s absence, protecting me from the inherent loneliness that followed. If I ever needed a distraction from the troubles of my life, it gave me the opportunity. It gave me the means.
 
Of course, that stopped being an option as soon as mother left the house, and Quicksilver’s jealous fury decided to take center stage. From that point on, there had been no sanctuary, and I had blithely endeavored to find a new one here.
 
Now, it was just me, myself, and Manehattan.
 
I had tried to make this city mine. And I had failed.
 
I was alone.
 
What was I to do?