Just like every other night in Manehattan, cabs went up and down the streets in steadily-paced lines. Nearly every other theatre on Bridleway had already closed up shop for the evening, with only the crew members still on the premises. Regardless, the familiar carriages stayed within the general vicinity, knowing not just that there were still bits to be made off the few ponies who were still there, but also that one theatre in particular had experienced a frightful delay. The matter was certainly a mysterious one, but on the other hoof, it was also one that could not be easily covered up for long.
As the audience from that showing finally exited the building, they could already hear the reactions to the scandal that had just unfolded. This part of town, one that was usually dominated by theatregoers and cab drivers at this hour, soon became swarmed with whatever reporters could be bothered to stay up this late in the name of breaking news.
It was under all these conditions, and directly because of this, that Coco checked all the windows intently for a potential opening. Charity Kindheart—whom she was still shocked to have seen at all—was still waiting for her even after she’d caught up with Bambi, but somehow, her mentor’s potential rage was the last thing on her mind. That, at least, was an obstacle she could wiggle out of with some effort. She would have no such luck with the press.
Even an hour after the show ended, they were still on the scene, and she couldn’t help but feel she was at least part of the reason why. They wanted ponies who’d witnessed the events first-hoof, and with Mosely and Cameo under police custody, they would have to make do with what they could find. Scene had gone over this with her just after the curtain fell, promising to keep them busy. If they asked about her, he would tell them they could do the interview another day.
“An exposé with the lover who worked against him and toppled the whole thing,” he’d told her. “If I was anypony else at the newsstand, I’d say that would definitely be worth waiting for a few days. You can’t just run that stuff first, you know.”
“I never took you for a reporter,” she’d replied.
“I’m really not. But I am a director, and that’s enough to know that ponies like the buildup. And being your friend is enough to know that going out there right now’s the last thing you need.”
Sure, he’d said all that, but Coco still wasn’t quite convinced, and not just about whether or not he’d really be able to throw them off. For her, the main issue at hoof lay in the way he’d thought of her, and in the way she feared everypony else would after everything had unfolded.
‘The one who toppled the whole thing.’ That wasn’t a title that really suited her all that well, that was for sure. It hadn’t been something she’d planned, but it was something she still somewhat regretted. Even though she knew his opinion didn’t matter and that she might never see him again for all she knew, all she had to do was look into his eyes for the fear to fall back into place. She still wasn’t sure if it had been pain, indignation, anger, or all three, but none of these were particularly safe emotions for Mosely Orange to direct at you.
Maybe the law would take care of itself this time and she wouldn’t have to encounter him directly. But somehow, that wasn’t what her thoughts had in mind, and dread still cycled through her systems. If he could treat Cameo so harshly after she went against him, then what would stop him from doing the same to her?
Seeing that the coast was clear for a while, but still leaving the theatre with as much stealth as she had, Coco told herself for about the millionth time tonight that even then, what she had done was still worth it. While she still thought the audience would’ve surely believed Scene and Cameo’s accounts with enough time and that she’d played only a small role in the matter, it was still important for her story to come out to the public. As much as it made her doubt her own actions, it had also been freeing in a way.
No more secrets, she thought to herself as the lights dimmed around her. At least, not anymore.
****
The ride to the actors’ lodge where Charity was staying, surprisingly enough, was on a completely different side of town, something that Coco couldn’t understand in the slightest but was immensely grateful for. That, at least, would give her time to talk with the other mare about the other, smaller parts of their lives before the inevitable storm of questions hit.
And, at least for a little while, that was what had happened. Charity was doing well enough, her grandchildren having all earned their cutie marks already. She was living out in a small town near Fillydelphia and her retirement had been fairly peaceful. Almost too much so, in her opinion.
“I needed an excuse to get out of there,” she admitted playfully. “Not to say that’s the whole reason I’m here, but I was really missing everypony down here. Well, almost everypony.”
“I didn’t know you had any enemies here,” said Coco.
“Please don’t worry too much about that, dear. I didn’t mean anypony in particular. I just forgot how far ponies can go to get what they want here, that’s all.”
It was at that moment when Coco first realized just how hazardous this whole encounter was. As innocent as it would’ve been any other night, the pony she’d looked up to more than anything had more than likely seen parts of her she’d never wanted anypony to see. After the hospital incident and all the worry it had brought everypony, she tried not to blame herself too much for giving into Mosely’s schemes, but it seemed that every time a new pony uncovered the truth about her, she would revert to her past state.
That, more than anything, was the real reason why she rejected the title of ‘hero’ when it came to this case. Because it would’ve been all too easy to stop it another way, without all this heartbreak for everypony involved. Because there had been a part of her who’d gone along with it all this time.
Looking to the buildings lit with rainbows, averting her eyes from the other ponies in the vehicle, she tried to calculate the best way to ask Charity without seeming too suspicious. If she’d left during intermission and came back to pick up Coco, saying too much about it would lead to a stream of questions. Then again, anything at this point would likely lead to at least a few inquiries, whether she’d seen anything or not. Regardless, subtlety was key.
“Um, what did you think of the play?”
Almost as soon as she’d blurted this out, Coco was reminded of why she’d never become an actress in the first place.
“Well,” Charity replied with more than a few pauses of hesitation, “the costumes were certainly top-notch. Not that I’d expect anything less from you, but the scenario they gave you wasn’t exactly the most accommodating for a first-time designer. There are only so many things you can do with unicorn robes.”
“I tried to work with it the best I could, but honestly, I’d been worried about that a bit myself.”
“As for the rest of the play, I only had a few slight issues with it. While it’s not the type I would usually go see, I still really liked it. I did notice a few immersion problems, but I’d say they managed to work in everypony’s favor.”
The emphasis Charity placed on “immersion problems,” a phrase that Coco had only ever heard theatre reviewers use, immediately dissolved all hopes she’d had that her mentor hadn’t stayed for the whole show. She’d seen everything, both scripted and unscripted.
“The ending was definitely satisfying in more ways than one,” she continued. “I never thought I’d say this, but my favorite part probably had to be when the police were called in.”
Whipping her head back towards the all-too-uniform buildings, Coco was soon placed in the same position as Babs, doing all she could to avoid her loved one’s gaze. In spite of the frigid wind, her body was heating up like she’d just swallowed the sun.
“So you saw that, too,” she whispered, almost too softly to be audible.
The beating of hooves along the pavement continued as always, and the rest of the ride was a blur. Not that Coco had really wanted it any other way; anything was better than having to explain what she’d been through to yet another pony. It wasn’t so much a matter of not being accepted this time, though, but moreso one of fatigue. Every time she told this story, she’d hoped it would be the last, only for another to come in and complicate things.
For what it was worth, though, Charity didn’t seem to intrude anymore, and with enough silent hinting, she realized any questions about the matter would be better left unsaid until the next morning. That, at the very least, would give Coco some time to sleep and summon that more courageous side of herself that’d somehow shown itself earlier. Assuming, of course, that it would still be there the next day.
As she guided herself towards the nearest open room in the commune-like lodge, she could already hear the other theatre ponies talk. Most of the younger ones paid her no mind, but those familiar faces who were there—Charity’s friends and fellow Midsummer Theatre Festival volunteers—recognized her instantly, and that was enough. The last thing she wanted to hear in that moment was other voices chattering about how much trouble she’d gotten herself into after all these years.
And yet, a few managed to sift into her ears, no matter how much she tried to block them. Just behind her room’s walls, she could hear Charity interrogating one of the others who’d put on the festival when she was a foal.
“Do you still keep up with all the theatre collabs these days?”
“I guess so,” the other pony, a community theatre director, replied. “Which one did she get into? At least, I assume that’s why you’re asking.”
“It is. There was a problem with this one, so I figure I might as well study up on it a bit. For her sake, at least.”
“What sort of problem?”
“Poor leadership. An incident like hers hasn’t happened for years, and she hasn’t told me anything about it up front, but I was able to find out some things.”
Before saying anything else, the older mare gave an indecipherable sigh, best described as somewhere in between sorrow and resignation.
“I don’t want to be too frank about it, but to put it generally: she’s a young, attractive mare on her first Bridleway job, working for somepony with questionable morals. It’s one of those sorts of issues.”
Curling up underneath the sheets, Coco managed to tune at least a part of the conversation out. But the real crux of the matter still didn’t escape her, as she could still hear them talking just as her eyes finally shut.
“Somehow I’d always imagined Stealer-Orange to be above those sorts of amateur mistakes. I should be happy she managed to make it into such a big group on her first try, but I guess it was too good to be true after all.”
Two hours into sleep, Coco’s eyes fluttered open for a slight moment. She looked to her saddlebag and realized that she’d forgotten to put the orange flower back in her mane.
****
The blinds were shut tight, and yet sunlight still flowed through. At first, Coco, still half asleep when it came, hadn’t really noticed the change and just tugged at the blankets. Welcoming the darkness with a few tired murmurs, she buried her head underneath the sheets and closed her eyes once more, hoping at the very least for a few more minutes of rest.
It’d gone on like this for a couple hours before she began to notice sounds again. They were nothing like the whisperings she’d heard last night, with the ponies in the lodge going about their daily events through the anything-but-soundproof walls. She could even hear a spraying noise set to music from the room beside her, as if one of the actors hadn’t yet realized they weren’t on stage.
At least the singing wasn’t the worst thing in the world to wake up to. Still keeping her head under the sheets for a few moments, she stretched her hooves out and let her mind wander with the music.
Finally popping out of her little nook after hearing the last water droplet fall, her eyes instinctively darted to the first place she’d normally check every day. It took her awhile to actually find it, but as soon as she did, any sense of peace she had flew straight out of her body.
11:49 AM.
This was certainly not the best place for a fresh beginning.
Firing up the cheap coffee maker, Coco tried telling herself that, with any hope, maybe they’d declared an off day and chosen to leave the producer search for some other time. Bridleway was a place that didn’t usually make those sorts of exceptions, but there was a first time for everything, she figured. At least a change like that would be easier to explain than Charity letting her sleep through her alarm or anything like that.
She went through her daily routine as quickly as possible just in case. As she trotted through the motions, she almost felt like she was outside her own body, perhaps out of fatigue or perhaps out of shock. A day like this almost seemed too normal after everything that’d come to pass, but she wouldn’t let that deceive her. Not by a long shot.
If she could, she would have avoided anypony who came her way then, knowing that they’d probably end up breaking this pleasing stupor. But if there was one thing she’d learned, it was that avoiding these sorts of things wouldn’t make them go away, and so she swung the door straight open the first chance she got.
As with everything else that morning, nothing of any importance lay outside it, just a collection of letters from the Midsummer Theatre Festival ponies who’d seen her. Placing them in her saddlebag, she figured she could always read them later and that she might as well catch up with Charity to see what she had planned for the day.
The older mare was already waiting for her in the lobby, having called over another taxi to take them to some mysterious location. Coco braced herself once more for any sorts of awkward questions she might be wondering, but for once, Charity showed a sort of cool distance towards her.
“We’ll talk when we get there,” she said. “I had a feeling you’d need a change of scenery first, considering everything you had to go through.”
Before Coco could protest that this was already enough of “a change in scenery,” the cab was already running at full speed. All she could do at this point was breathe a sigh of relief that she’d packed all the clothes and materials she would need in her saddlebag. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have had any idea she’d end up leaving the lodge so quickly.
A few seconds into the trip, she realized that Charity had managed to summon her insane side once more. She wasn’t in the mood for these sorts of shenanigans often, preferring to play up the grandmotherly stereotype for all it was worth, but there’d been a few times on set when she’d shown her more eccentric side. Then again, such was the case with most theatre ponies, Coco had found.
This time, as with all those other times she’d strung her students along, Coco had absolutely no idea what to expect other than a long cab ride. When the carriage stopped only a couple minutes in, she realized that even that wasn’t a guarantee.
“Here we are,” Charity spoke with a smile. “I remember you telling me how much you’d wanted to see this place when it first opened up.”
The structure before her was glistening with white marble and all sorts of pillars, the very image of pureness. And yet, looking at it, all she could think was the worst of thoughts, about how no matter how much she’d hoped this day would be a refuge from all this drama, it’d managed to crawl into her life once again. It didn’t matter if this time would have a better end to it than the last time she’d seen it; even then, she’d still dread the worst.
Directly in front of her was Mosely’s art museum.
Even though he didn’t own it in the first place, that was the way she’d come to see that building. Charity’s intentions had been good enough, as she had remembered wanting to come there as a foal to see the traveling exhibits of costumes. But considering that she’d only ever set hoof inside it on the night of the art ball, it was only natural to associate it with that. The night that had now become her second-worst, when she’d realized what a terrible and inescapable trap she’d fallen into.
Seeing that the cab had already vanished into the distance, Coco tried her best to hide her nervous gulps from an oblivious Charity.
Of all the art museums, she muttered to herself, in all of Manehattan, in all of Equestria, she had to pick this one.
“Is something wrong? Should we go someplace else?”
“No, I’m fine,” Coco answered, not quite sure how convincing this really was. “Just taking it all in, I guess. It’s a beautiful building.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason why you’re acting like this? Because you seem really—“
“I’m fine! Let’s just…not talk about it.”
She could just see Charity pulling down her glasses with a rare look of seriousness on her face.
“I thought this would be a place that could help you take your mind off things. But, from the way you look at it, it seems like it’s bringing memories back instead.”
“Well, it’s something I’ll just have to get over sooner or later. And coming here with you, I’m sure it’ll be sooner now.”
That much was just about the only thing she was sure about.
If there was any good to be found in all this, it was that the inside of the museum was almost unrecognizable without all the fancy decorations from before. The visitors were dressed in much more casual attire, and any indication that this had been the biggest ticket in town almost a month ago had disappeared. All the tables and trimmings had been removed completely, leaving nothing but a usual entryway surrounded with statues. The only thing that seemed relatively familiar about this place was a silvery fountain, something that she’d found particularly striking when she first noticed it back then.
Now, looking at it was almost too dangerous. As long as she turned away from it as soon as she saw it, maybe thoughts of that night wouldn’t come. Come to think of it, she hadn’t been to many exhibits while she was first there, either. So that left avoiding those few she did see and keeping to the most unfamiliar parts of the museum.
As she was reflecting on all this, Charity was already buying tickets, taking out a season pass and showing to the pony at the register. Realizing this, Coco cantered up to her with all the energy she had.
“Wait,” she whispered, fishing through her saddlebag. “I can pay. I’m sorry I didn’t catch up with you sooner, but you really don’t have to—“
“I have a guest pass, too, so I’m fine. I don’t tend to come here alone, so I ended up buying two just in case. They last a while, too—that’s why I still have mine even after I moved. Maybe if you like it enough here today, you should get one too. I hear they really need donations here, you know.”
“Yeah, maybe I will. I guess I can just buy something at the gift shop with the bits I was about to use.”
“It does have a nice gift shop,” Charity agreed. “But you still don’t seem all that excited about this. You’ve said you’ve always wanted to see it, but you sure don’t act that way.”
After a slight pause, the older pony’s hoof went straight up in realization.
“You must’ve been here recently! You were expecting to go someplace different that you haven’t seen in a while, right? And you’re just too polite to tell me you’d rather go someplace else?”
Instead of answering, Coco headed towards an exhibit of porcelain tea sets, figuring some of the designs could bring her inspiration and that this trip might not be a complete loss.
“I guess,” she finally admitted. “But there are lots of exhibits I didn’t get to see, so we really don’t need to leave. Plus, something like this might look good for the dresses in my other play. The one that’s actually still running.”
She gestured with her hoof towards a pink-and-white teacup decorated with several kinds of flowers, one that she’d admittedly picked out of the blue to make it look like she was getting something out of being there.
“If I might so ask,” said Charity, “how do you make a dress out of a teacup? Not to say I doubt your abilities, but I’ve never heard of such a thing. Or are you thinking of using it as a hat?”
“It’s not actually going to be made out of a teacup; it’ll just look like one. Not with the handle and stuff, just the print. It’s a new fashion trend I heard about.”
“I’ll take your word for it, then. Though, come to think of it, I could probably make a teacup hat work. It’d have to be a fake one, though, wouldn’t want to break anything so beautiful…”
Now that she’d brought up the idea, she’d likely end up spending the next few minutes droning on about it. Coco had never really minded that tendency of her teacher’s and, if anything, it gave her time to think about how to get through all of this without making Charity think she was having a bad time.
But the last phrase, the one about being broken and beautiful, struck her more than it should have. Though it was innocent enough coming from Charity’s mouth, it could’ve been all too easily construed as a threat. That wasn’t quite the direction Coco took it, though. Her line of thought was much more focused on wondering if broken things could really become beautiful again, or if their shards could carry radiance within them. And just then, another pony from last night popped into her head.
I still want to believe that you’re better than him. So unless I’m presented with any other evidence to the contrary, I fully intend on saving you, too.
Coco hadn’t remembered many of the exact words said that night, but those were the ones that really struck her. Hearing them was one of the happiest moments she’d had in a while, in spite of all that strife.
Cameo had barely known her and had every reason to see her as competition. She was on the play she was trying to derail, she was with the stallion she hated most, and she’d ended up adopting the pony who should’ve been her rightful daughter. Judging from all the books Coco had read and Bambi’s initial reaction to her, she should’ve hated her as much as she did Mosely, and yet here she was, believing in her anyway.
The moment after, when Cameo pointed out that Coco wasn’t an upper-class mare, she’d brushed off all thoughts of reconciling with Babs’ birth mother. But now that Coco knew she’d only brought it up to back up her own points about Mosely’s hypocrisy, things were different. She wasn’t quite sure if she’d ever see the mare again, and yet she couldn’t help but wonder where she was or if the police were heckling her too much.
Broken, but beautiful. That was the way Bambi had always described her mother, and now Coco could see why. Cameo’s intensity frightened her a little, and she should’ve been focusing on just how easily she could shatter a pony’s reputation, but those small, softer parts were what stuck out. She could only hope that she hadn’t been acting then when she talked about how much she really believed in her.
Lost within these thoughts, Coco kept gazing at the swirls on the teacup, imagining it breaking violently only to slowly put itself back together. She’d been doing this for ten minutes or so when Charity finally stopped her.
“I know you’re really inspired by that one,” she whispered, “but can we move onto another part of the museum? There was something I really wanted to show you, and I want to make sure we see as much as we can before closing.”
“I understand,” Coco answered. “Seeing that just made me think of somepony else.”
Quickly realizing her mistake, she added, “Something else. I meant something else.”
It was too late. Charity had already heard, and she had fallen into silence. Her eyes darted to the newly polished floors before finally speaking again.
“I guess it was too much for me to expect to see you completely forget about last night. I was really just hoping being around somepony you really miss would make you feel better, but it was my mistake. You can’t rush things like this, no matter how much you might want to.”
“I think you misunderstood. I wasn’t thinking about anything like that. Just—“
“You don’t need to deny it anymore. It’s okay. You may not have been thinking about him that time, but I have a feeling you did earlier today. And you could be like that for a while. I just wished I could’ve changed that.”
“I’m still enjoying myself today, though,” Coco replied. “As much as I keep thinking about it, I can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Knowing it’s all over and everything.”
“Is that really how you feel?”
“Yeah. Trust me, I’ve been trying all day to not let last night get in the way of being with you, but it’s just gotten too hard.”
“That’s why I came here, actually,” Charity admitted. “Your friends wrote me a little while back, saying that your new job had been hard on you. They wanted to send me an invitation to the play, but they also wanted me to help. I didn’t know how bad it was then, but I figured I should come over anyway. Every foal I’ve guided leads me to find something new in myself, and I always try to return the favor. Even for the not-so-good ones.”
“Like me?” Coco asked.
“Not at all. I’d been told about some parts of your situation before I came over, about where you used to work and all, and I understand. It’s hard for ponies like you to find a decent job sometimes with the way everything can be so toxic and competitive over here. But if there’s one thing I know now, it’s that it doesn’t stop at the crime rings. There are parts of Bridleway that’ve changed since my family worked with it, and they haven’t all been for the better. So if anything, the pony you were back then isn’t so different from the pony you are now, or the pony you were as a filly. And you were always a good one inside.”
“You really don’t know how happy I am to hear that. I’d always thought you’d be disappointed in me or something, with all the promise you had put into me.”
“That’s because I knew you had it, dear. It just started a bit less smoothly than either of us would’ve liked. I won’t talk much more specifically about what you went through, because I know it’ll probably hurt you to hear it, but can I just ask you one thing?”
“Sure.”
“You were wearing an orange flower last night, but when you got into the cab, you hadn’t put it back on. I’d figured you weren’t wearing the one I gave you because you’d moved on from that time in your life. I knew you still cared about me, but I figured you wanted to start fresh. But when I saw you without it, I realized something. Was it something that he gave you?”
She certainly hadn’t expected Charity to notice a detail that was so small, especially so late at night. In any case, she didn’t want the other mare to get the wrong idea.
“Yes, it was. He never told me that I had to wear it, but I was too afraid of what would happen if I didn’t. It was bad enough knowing I could lose my job, but after finding out what happened to Babs…”
“You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to. It’s okay now. He’s going to prison, so you don’t have to worry about him. Plus, once he fessed up last night, I made sure to yell at least half a dozen expletives at him. Can’t say I’ve ever done that for anypony else, at least not in public.”
Strangely enough, Coco seemed to ignore the last few parts of that statement.
“But he hasn’t been tried yet, and the police still need to question him.”
“He’s going to prison, so you don’t have to worry about him,” Charity repeated. “I’ve followed Bridleway plays for years, and I have yet to see a shady producer that didn’t happen to. Don’t quite know what the laws are for foal abusers, but I assume they’re the same way. That does lead me to something else, by the way.”
“What’s that?”
Charity gave her a tiny, yet proud smile in response.
“I never thought you’d end up adopting somepony. Hearing about how you were so committed to bettering that foal’s life…I knew you were a sweetheart, but not on that level. That just breaks the scale. Even after everything, I have a feeling the two of you will make it out together. If he couldn’t keep you apart, then nothing will.”
Coco thought about telling her then about how Mosely had taken her to the museum or even to ask about Cameo, the mare she knew Charity was once friends with. But those could wait. What she really wanted to do was suck in the moment she never thought she’d have.
“Oh!” Charity shouted in realization. “Before we move onto the next exhibit, and now that I have all the facts, there’s something I want to do.”
She reached into her saddlebag once more and found a simple white box tied up with gold ribbon.
“I was thinking about getting you something to congratulate you from the beginning,” she began. “But when I looked for you after the show and saw your office, I figured the best gift I could give you was something you already had.”
Growing curious from the cryptic response and not caring who saw her, Coco opened it immediately to find something she thought would be forever lost to her.
She had kept it by her side all this time, stared at it from time to time as a reminder of what she had lost. But she’d never once thought she’d be able to really come back to it.
Those thoughts were over. Charity removed the object from its box and placed it in her mouth.
“You say you want to go back to who you used to be,” she whispered. “If you knew for a fact that you could, would you?"
Her face breaking out in satisfied tears, Coco knew then that things were on the way to being right again, even if this was only a small step on a large journey.
“Of course.”
Still transfixed with the teacup on the display, she soon saw another image superimposed over it: her own face, her real face, with Charity just behind her. The red flower brushing her mane before burying itself into a sea of blue.
Any traces of orange, or of Oranges, were now only on the inside.
~end of Intermission~