Sinister Lenses

by Osper

Chapter 1

Sinister Lenses

Quiet chatting could be heard from all around the room as a piano played from the center providing pleasant, but not overbearing, background noise.

Enlarged photos hung in expensive frames, each costing several times more than a single house in Ponyville. The prices for the photos themselves, carefully written out on plaques that hung next to each photo, could have fed a family of four in that same town for three years if they ate simply with a single nice meal every week.

“Your work is simply marvelous dear, marvelous! Who would have thought you could make a bold move from fashion photographer extraordinaire to art photographer and still be successful? Certainly not I, but you’ve done it. Bravo!”

Upper Crust, one of those ponies who tried entirely too hard to impress anyone with the slightest bit of fame in Canterlot gave his practiced golf clap.

Photo Finish, the mare of the hour, bowed slightly and glanced at each of the ponies around her.

Jet Set, who never left her husband’s side. Fancy Pants, who stared at the photo in genuine interest with his physically clingy but not unpleasant girlfriend all over him. Even the official art buyer for Canterlot castle, Chiaroscuro, stood by. He hmmed and adjusted the jewelers eye glass, peering at every little bit.

“Oh, sank you very much but eet is nossink, really. I merely take pictures uf vhat I like. If others like it as vell, zat is good too.”

“And I’m sure the Princess will like it as well. I’ll cut you a check.”

Chiaroscuro pulled out a check book, the official castle seal on the cover and started making it out to the gallery.

Jet Set, always willing to make the sacrifice of sticking her nose into everyone else's business, opened her mouth to pry.

“Which Princess?”

He mumbled around the pen.

“Prinshesh Runa.”

She shrugged, giving Photo Finish a consolatory pat on the shoulder.

“Better luck next time, dear.”

“Sanks.”

What she’d wanted to say would have been far too inappropriate for the ears of any of the toast of Canterlot. Jet Set could suck the fun out a barrel of top hat wearing, jewel encrusted monkeys.

Chiaroscuro went in search of the gallery owner in charge of transactions and, taking it as their own cue, the two social climbers walked away to hob-knob and be a bother elsewhere.

“Finally, that awful mare is gone. Fancy Pants, can we go see the sculptures? There’s a simply marvelous showing of Terra Cotta’s latest works.”

“Oh, you only like them because he gives the stallions such big-“

He caught himself in front of Photo Finish.

“Muscles. Okay dear. Congratulations Photo Finish and thank you for inviting us.”

She thanked them both and watched them walk to the back to see the stallion sculptures with large ‘muscles’.

It was odd to be alone at a show dedicated to her own pieces but she didn’t mind. Outside of working and giving orders to models, she didn’t like to talk. Her accent made her self conscious and try as she had to get rid of it, it had stayed. Hours of practice and voice coaches had done nothing for her. At least in her own language she was actually rather eloquent, but that mattered little in a town where no one shared your mother tongue.

“Hey girl! ‘Sup?”

A hoof around her neck and a friendly squeeze told her exactly who it was.

She smiled at Vinyl Scratch, adjusting her glasses back to normal when the hug tipped them off kilter.

The friends made for an unusual pair to most others that saw them but Photo Finish held her relationship with the ten years younger pony very close to her heart.

They’d met years back when Photo Finish had first become a big thing in the fashion world and had started a small organization for helping other artists get a start in the the art world. Scratch had brought her whole turntable in to audition stating that she,“Couldn’t work with something she hadn’t built herself.”

“I heard one of your works is gonna be hanging in the castle! Pretty awesome.”

“Ya, is, how you Equestrians put it? Ribbed.”

“I…I think you mean groovy.”

“Ya.”

They looked up, the photo of the hazy moon breaking through the clouds looking back down. For such a cliché photo, something every amateur and first year photo student did, it had been received surprisingly well.

“I vas happy de clouds stood still so long. Exposure times are quite de beetch.”

“Wouldn’t know, but I’m happy for you. Wanna come to a gig I’m doing later? Big par-tay at the Bit & Tickle. Be a lot of fun. Meet some cute stallions.”

Photo Finish sighed, still smiling but noticeably hesitant.

“Oh, anyvun dere vould be too young for me. Zey vant hot, young pieces uf flank, like you.”

Scratch laughed, wishing she could get at least a little more party into her friends life. It was hard to come by in the upper parts of Canterlot but lower down, where the younger mares and colts of the rich old money liked to hang out, it was filled with clubs and trendy clothing shops.

“Come on! You need-“

The sudden appearance of a grey pony with a mail bag cut her sentence short. Ponyville, decidedly out of district to be delivering mail in Canterlot, was printed across the side.

“Photo Finish?”

“Dat is me.”

Photo Finish realized the mail carrier was wall eyed when she handed her the letter.

“Aren’t you a little far from Ponyville?”

The grey pony turned to Scratch, giving a little salute.

“It’s marked urgent in big red letters. I know how these slow pokes in Canterlot are so I just brought it myself. Mail is important but mail on time is more so.”

“So kind uf you dear. Please, stay and have at de buffet. You must be tired.”

A stack of gourmet muffins caught her eye and she saluted again and made her way there.

“Appreciated.”

The script on the letter was beautiful cursive that told Photo Finish exactly who it was from and that it was, in big red letters, urgent.

“Ah, is from mama. I feel so bad not having written lately.”

She tore it open, every moment she read the letter followed by her face getting a bit more sullen.

“What’s it about, Finish?”

She folded the letter, put it back in the envelope and put it in one of the pockets of her dress.

“Family sing. I…I have to go.”

She turned and started running through the gallery, knocking over a levitating tray of hors d’oeuvres that splattered over the floor and the waiter who’d been serving them. Scratch dashed after her, wondering just what had spooked her so bad.

It was easy enough to catch up and grab hold of Finish’s dress. Finish slowed, breathing hard from just running that small distance and looked at Scratch. Bizarrely, they had stopped in front of a high end music store called Scratch That!, the magical sign lit brightly behind Scratch’s head.

“Finish, what’s wrong?”

“Nossing!”

The way she yelled in the middle of the street didn’t make it sound like nothing. Yes, there was something wrong but Finish didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t have too many real friends and she didn’t want to burden the best of them with bad news. After all, glum ponies were lonely ponies as the saying went, though it sounded better in her native language.

“Really.”

Scratch took off her glasses, something she never did unless she was completely ditching her party girl/DJ persona and trying to be a little serious.

“You don’t dash out of your own show and leave a nice looking colt covered in bite size food for nothing. Tell me.”

Photo Finish took a deep breath. The news wasn’t that personal to her but being honest with others let them get close.

Close enough to hurt you.

She thought the words through carefully, not wanting her ridiculous accent to make her sound foolish.

“My father died.”

Comments

[Storm Clouds]

Great, a Photo Finish fanfic ! Love it !
Nice touch of humor here and there, even though the end of the chapter isn't so happy.
Gonna read the rest, now.

(sorry for any mistakes in my comment, French speaker here)