• Published 2nd Nov 2015
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Your Own Worst Enemy - Distaff Pope



So, where do you go when you make a mistake? Like, a really big mistake? Like, a smash your life with a hammer, lose all your friends, and almost die mistake? My name's Sweetie, and right now, I wish I knew the answer.

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12. Apophenia

We walked to the race start, my coat getting kind of hot in the late-spring humidity. “Why are you even dressed up?” Scootaloo asked, walking next to me in her race suit. “You don’t have to wear anything, and that can’t be comfortable.”

I shrugged, hiding my discomfort. “It’s fine,” I said. “And this way, if I want to buy something while you’re out racing, I’ll have the bits on me.”

She rolled her eyes, while keeping her helmet balanced on her back. “Sweetie, it’s almost one in the morning. I don’t think many stores are going to be open. Plus, you could just wear a coin purse.”

“But they’re so ugly,” I said, shaking my head. “At best, they hang around your neck like a collar, and at worst, they mess up all your lines and symmetry. I think I’ll just stick with a coat or saddlebags.”

“You know,” she said, laughing, “if you said that in a weird accent and talked a bit more–” She lilted her voice. “–sophisticated, darling, you’d sound exactly like your mom.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, nodding my head as we walked. “Since she is the best mom in all of Equestria.” I glanced at Scootaloo, who was giving me a look. “Maybe tied for first. Hey! When am I going to meet your parents?”

“That’s…” she sped up. “That might not be a great idea right now. Mom’s kind of tough.” Translation: She hates you for what you put me through.

“Yeah, well, maybe soon?” I asked, ignoring the translation. “We’re going on that camping trip soon, maybe we could do before or after that.”

“I’ll see,” Scootaloo said, shaking her head as we joined a crowd of ponies looking various types of… I don’t want to be judgmental, but they definitely wouldn’t fit in with Ponyville. Maybe I just wasn’t used to seeing ponies with more piercings than legs, and hair that looked more like Spike’s spikes than any regular pony hairstyle. It was fine, though, I just wasn’t used to the punk style. They were all probably really nice ponies. There was a commotion in the distance as two ponies started swinging at each other.

“Don’t worry,” Scootaloo whispered in my ear. “Those two… they do that at pretty much every race, but they’ll be drinking each other under the table by the time we’re done.” Drinks? There were drinks?

I laughed and smiled at her. “Sounds like fun.” I blinked and Scootaloo just stared at me like I’d started speaking Prench. “Not the fighting part… Or the drinking each other under the table part, but… You know, the whole atmosphere is just so different.”

“And you like it?” Scootaloo asked, raising an eyebrow as a hulking mare who was almost completely covered in tattoos trotted through us. My head whipped around to follow her as she went, watching her disappear in the crowd as my heart thudded.

“You know,” I said, feeling slightly flushed. “It’s definitely different than what I’m used to, and that’s… That can be good.”

“Can I take you anywhere without you getting turned on by some weird thing?” Scootaloo asked. I shook my head. “Fine, what is it this time? The tattoos? The piercings?”

“Those are definitely… nice,” I said, nodding my head and looking around. “But almost everypony here has tattoos and piercings, and while it would definitely be fun to take one of them to the castle to meet Mom – you know, if I wasn’t dating you – I was kind of more interested in her size. Like, just to date somepony so much bigger than you, and you can do all these neat things with that, plus with all her muscles, I bet she could toss me around like a doll or something.” My eyes glinted. “If I was still with Bright Lights, I’d definitely have her set me up with a mare like her just to see all the…” I stared at Scootaloo, who was… if I was speaking Prench before, then now I was speaking one of those weird dead languages nopony actually knew. “What? You never imagined what it would be like to be with a mare a lot bigger than you, like a Saddle Arabian?”

“You know I haven’t fantasized about a mare, Sweetie,” Scootaloo said, looking ahead to where a bunch of ponies with scooters on their back were drifting towards the middle of the street and setting up.

I nodded. “Believe me, I know,” I said, before smiling. “But I know you will one day, and that’s really all that matters.” I paused. “Or are you not having fun?”

“No, it’s definitely fun,” she said, trotting towards the other racers. I tried to follow, but she gestured for me to stay back. “Just… I still don’t see mares like you do. I don’t think I have it in me to start drooling over some cute mare in public.”

“Your loss,” I said, shrugging. “It’s really fun.” Scootaloo stopped, at the edge of the street and turned around to look at me.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll try to describe what I get whenever I look at some chiseled stallion,” she said, grinning. “You might like it more than you think.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’ll happen.” I smiled for her. “Anyways, good luck with your race. I’ll be good while you’re gone.”

“You better,” she said, shaking her head and laughing. “Or else when I get back, I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” I said, switching from Good Marefriend Sweetie to Mistress Sweetie in a breath. “Tell me what you’ll do, and then I’ll tell you everything I’ll do in return.” I smirked. I was going to be nice for her race, but then she wanted to act like she could get the upper hoof on me. Hopefully, humiliation made her race faster. “And I’ll win. In fact, why don’t I start by telling your friends all the things you beg me to do.” I pitched my voice up towards the end, so anypony nearby could hear me. Scootaloo’s face burned scarlet.

“Please don’t,” she said, her voice a whisper as a few stallions at the race line turned to look at us. One whispered something and the others laughed.

“Beg me to kiss you,” I whispered.

She gulped, taking one step back off the curb, sending her helmet to the ground.. “Sw– Sweetie… please kiss me,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

Loooouuudeeerrr,” I sing-songed.

“Please, Sweetie, kiss me,” she said, just loud enough that the growing circle of ponies around us could hear.

I tilted my head. I could make her beg more, get down on her forehooves and kiss the asphalt, while keeping her flank proudly in the air, but… I was feeling nice tonight. I launched forward and wrapped my forelegs around her as my lips sealed against hers and my tongue dashed into her mouth. A hoof went to stroke her flank and tail, and as she melted to my touch, I lowered her down onto the ground, feeling the eyes of a hundred ponies burning on us. If my mouth was free, I would have beamed at the attention, but instead I just imagined what was going on in Scootaloo’s head. The fear, the embarrassment, the shame at being humiliated in front of her friends and losing her reputation. She’d probably never been more turned on.

She squirmed beneath me as I moved to straddle her, limbs slowing as the kiss stretched on, and my hooves continued to caress her. Her squirming eventually stopped, and I pulled away from her, looking around to see the ponies staring at me and Scootaloo. I grinned at them. I could be a bit nice to Scootaloo now. “Yeah, so?” I asked, looking at the crowd. “She likes humiliating herself at my hooves, but she’s still going to kick all your flanks, so what does that say about you?” I leaned down to give Scootaloo one more kiss and turned around, swishing my tail in her face as I left. “Good luck.”

There was a sound behind me as Scootaloo got on her hooves, and when I looked back, more than a few of the spectators were following me. “Hey,” the mare closest to the front said. “You’re… Are you Sweetie Belle? The Sweetie Belle? The one in all the papers?” Oh, right, publicly humiliating my marefriend like that might make a few ponies look at me long enough to figure out who I was. I sighed and smiled.

“Yeah, I am,” I said. “Is there anything I can do for you?” What would they even want? They didn’t look like the type to be really angry about what I did. Still, I could be surprised, I guess.

“That’s so cool,” a stallion near the back shouted. “Hold on, could you let me grab something for you to sign?”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?” I looked back to where the race line was. Scootaloo was on her scooter, doing her best to get focused, while most of the ponies out were watching a pony in a striped black-and-white shirt walk out onto the road.

“It’s… you’re just the coolest mare,” he said, reaching out to pull a little booklet out of his saddlebag. “Shoot, does anypony here have a marker? My buddies will never believe I actually met you.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Wait, just so we’re clear, nopony’s here because I’m an accomplished singer and Bridleway actress, right?” There was a sea of shaking heads. “It’s all because of those parties?”

“Oh, yeah,” the mare said, voice about as flat as the road. “You’re, like, the essence of young rebellion. Everypony else’s is out there acting like a good little pony, and you’re just doing whatever. Wouldn’t have figured a Bridleway singer was the hardest partier in Equestria. I want to be just like you.”

“Well, I don’t know if that’s such a good–” Ponies cheered around the startline, and streaks of racer zoomed down the road. I managed to catch a blur of orange and purple near the front I figured was Scootaloo.

“Can you sign your book?” another mare said in the back, pushing her way to the front. She only had a couple of piercings in her ear, and no tattoos to mess up her nice cream coat. She was waving a copy of a book with her magic as she pushed forward, and… Oh, she was wearing glasses. Who can say no to a mare in glas– Wait. Did she say my book?

“I have a book?” I asked, frowning. “I didn’t think I’d written one of those.” They all laughed at my apparent ‘joke,’ and I did my best to play along with it while grabbing the book with my magic and bringing over the fresh-minted paperback. Sweetie Belle’s Lovers. At the very bottom of the cover were the words “A Work of Fiction Inspired by True Headlines.” If somepony started writing the day the story broke, it still would’ve been pretty rushed.

“Uhmm, okay,” I said, flipping the book open to the inside cover and taking the pen somepony else was holding. “Who should I make this out to?”

“Page Turner,” she said. I nodded and scribbled my standard autograph under the title. To Page Turner. Love, Sweetie Belle, making sure to draw a little heart next to my name. There. I tilted my head and stared down at my hoofwork. That was… maybe not the best if I was trying to ‘rehabilitate my image,’ like Mom said. Still – I laughed and floated the book back – Page Turner’d probably appreciate it.

“Alright, who’s next?” I asked, looking at the crowd. The group shoved whatever autographable thing they could find in my face. I took the paper that was closest. It was… just a piece of paper.

“So, what were your favorite drugs to take back when you were partying?” a voice in the crowd I asked.

“Probably Joy,” I said, humming as I signed. There was a big commotion as my words caught up with me. I shook my head. “Joy was my favorite, but now that I’m sober or whatever, I don’t like any of the drugs. They all messed with my head too much, and didn’t make me as happy as I thought.” I handed the paper back and tapped my chin. “Well, they made me happy at the time, but they also were… Don’t do drugs. Definitely don’t do as many as I did.”

“What? Are you saying you’ve gone soft?” a big loud stallion in the back said, and I looked to see a few looks of uncertainty in the crowd.

“Ugh, looks like somepony sold out,” another mare in the back said. I craned my head but couldn’t see who said it.

“Okay, first,” I said, looking at the crowd and ignoring the stallion to my left holding one of my cast recordings. Did he run home and get that, or did he just have the album in in his saddlebags? “How could I have sold out? Before, I was making a ton of bits while probably swallowing my weight in pills once a month. Now, I’m unemployed and not doing drugs. That’s, like, the opposite of going soft. Second, if going ‘soft’ means not taking anymore drugs after overdosing and almost dying, then, yes, I’ve gone soft. Also, did any of you read my latest interviews?”

Most of the crowd shook their heads, and a few ponies mentioned reading the Star’s article on me. “I read them,” a mare in a beret said. “I just thought your sister was forcing you to apologize since she’s one of the living embodiments of the establishment and bourgeois oppression.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, snapping my head to look at her and grabbing the recording with my magic while the stallion told me his name. “Seriously, ‘bourgeois oppression’?” A bunch of other ponies were giving her the same look of confusion. Apparently bourgeois oppression didn’t go well with… whatever this crowd was. Punk?

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you wouldn’t understand it. Most ponies don’t get big concepts like the idea that we’re being systematically stripped of our rights by the princesses in an attempt to create a modern slave caste.” I blinked. More ponies were staring at her.

“Uhmm… I’m pretty sure that’s not what that means,” Page Turner said. “I think you just heard those words and thought they sounded smart.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes again. (Something told me she started most of her sentences with an eye-roll.) “I don’t have to explain myself to any of you.” She looked at me. “But… I’ve got a poster of yours in my dorm room. Can you sign it when I get back?”

I tilted my head at her. “You just called the pony who raised me an embodiment of bourgeois oppression, which sure doesn’t sound like a compliment, even if neither of us know exactly what it means, so… no. No, I won’t.” I looked back to the crowd. “I’ll be happy to sign anyone else’s stuff, though.”

The crowd cheered. The first mare – not Page Turner – spoke up. “Just so we’re clear, though, you wouldn’t say we should take drugs? Or you wouldn’t say we should take drugs?” She winked at the second ‘wouldn’t’, and I shook my head.

“No, don’t do drugs. If I had to do it over again, well…” I signed another something. “I’d probably kick Bright Lights in the face the second I saw her, but… I’d do the sex again, that was great, and I might even do the drinking again, I think, but not the drugs.”

“Wait, you don’t like Bright Lights?” Page Turner said. “But in the book, you declare your love for each other and–”

“We what?!” I shouted, causing everypony to take a step back. “Who wrote that?” I grabbed the book with my magic and wrenched it around so I could see who wrote it. Lovestruck. Wait, did I… She lived in Ponyville, didn’t she?

“Okay,” I said, taking a breath. “Well, the book’s wrong. Bright Lights is… probably the worst pony I know. I don’t care what you think about drugs. If you still want to take Joy even after I said don’t, that’s… I don’t think that’s a good idea, but I can understand why you’d do it, and I wouldn’t hate you for it. And if you want to share your bad idea with somepony you love, that’s… if the two of you talk about it, she agrees, and you didn’t pressure her into doing it, I guess I wouldn’t hate you for that either.”

They looked at me expectant, like I was about to say something profound. Instead, I was just going to talk about how much I hated Bright Lights. “She didn’t do that. She found out I was unhappy, offered Joy as a solution, and got me hooked on it. She twisted me around so I’d just do whatever she wanted and took me away from everypony I loved. Whenever I did something bad, she was there with more drugs to keep me in line, and if I was good, she gave me whatever I wanted. She turned me into a stupid pet, completely dependent on her, and then she left. I almost died because she made me forget how to take care of myself.”

I signed something else for a pony near me. “So… what’s your point?” another pony in the crowd said. “You just kind of started going off about how much you hate Bright Lights.”

“That…” I frowned. There was definitely a point there, right? “I don’t think I was that much of a ‘rebel’ back then. I don’t even think I was much of a pony back then, just a puppet, so if you want to do the big punk rebellion thing, maybe don’t look to me as an inspiration.” I hummed in thought. They were still an eager audience, though. “If you want stories though, I have plenty of those.” Well, general impressions of things that might be stories. I finished by signing a saddlebag held in front of me.

“Okay, so… are you saying Bright Lights is the real rebel?” the stallion in the back asked. “That you just kind of went along with her?” I glared at him.

“No,” I said. “No, she’s not a rebel. Sure, she gave me a bunch of drugs and planned out my parties, but she never really did anything herself. She just kept me hooked.” I waved a hoof at them. “I know I’m not super familiar with you all, but I’m pretty sure you’re not cool with drugging ponies to keep them weak, right?” A chorus of nods. I let out a sigh of relief. “Okay then, so are there any questions not about Bright Lights? Or drugs?”

A clamor of ponies spoke at once, snippets coming to me.

“...the best way for a stallion…”

“...how many ponies at a time…”

“...any drink suggestions for…”

“...music are you listening…”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. I might be here for a while.

♪♪♪

Some time later, the crowd had vanished, and my brief reacquaintance with celebrity was over. Thank Celestia. I glanced at the mare still looking at me after the crowd departed. Almost over. “Yes?”I asked, looking at her. Page Turner, I think. She had an open book for a cutie mark, so that probably wasn’t too bad a guess.

“Oh, I’m just…” she laughed. “I can’t believe it’s actually you, you know? I love listening to your albums when I’m reading, and then you’re here, and…”

“Wait, you listened to my albums? I didn’t think my music was that popular here,” I said.

She laughed. “Oh, no, I don’t suppose it is.” She gestured a hoof at her earrings. “I only really put these on when I’m coming to see my coltfriend race. You know, to look the part.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding my head. “I probably should have done something like that, too, but… Scootaloo didn’t exactly tell me what to expect. Not that that’s her fault.”

“If Roller and her knew we were talking… Well, there’s no rule against marefriends talking, even if their partners are kind of rivals, especially since this is going to be Roller’s last race.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to process everything she said. “Wait, why won’t you be doing another one of these races?”

“Well, because the Hoofington Open’s in a few weeks,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So if he can make the qualifying time there, he should be able to do well enough to get into the professional racing scene. No more fighting for scraps down here.”

My ears swiveled towards her. “Hoofington Open?” I asked. “So, anypony who wants can enter it?”

She nodded. “If they can make the qualifying time.” She looked back to the street behind her for any signs of racers. Apparently, the race was two big loops around the city, and the first lap was almost over. Maybe. I don’t exactly know how long it takes to race around the city. She smiled. “Also, you’re dating a racer, how do you not know this?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t even know she raced until a couple of weeks ago, and then this afternoon, she tells me she has a big race, so…” And it wasn’t like her to hide her stuff. If we were back before, she’d be bragging and boasting non-stop about all her race wins, unless… “Is she good? Scootaloo, I mean?”

“One of the best,” Page Turner said. “In fact, it’s a little funny, but to hear Roller tell it, after she got herself established here, a lot of the racers got together to talk about banning pegasi.” I raised an eyebrow. “You know, not a lot of pegasi do scooter races, because they can fly, so we didn’t have to deal with them, but then she came along, and suddenly wings became an ‘unfair advantage.’”

“Wait,” I said, shaking my head. “So how come she can still–”

She held up a hoof and turned around. “I’m getting there, but first…” She floated a roll of paper from her saddlebags and cheered. “Go, Roller! Whoooo!” She waved her hooves and balanced on her back legs, doing an almost dance, hopping around, while keeping her sign facing towards the street. A few ponies rounded the corner and started heading towards us.

“Yeah, go Scootaloo!” I shouted, doing my own cheer. “Kick their flanks! Maybe not Roller’s so much, because he has a nice marefriend, but still beat him! Yay! Scootaloo!” I waved as an orange and purple blur rocketed past us followed almost immediately by a gray one. Turner dropped her cheer, furled up her poster, and turned back to me.

“I think your cheers could use a bit of work,” she said, shaking her head. “Although I appreciate the thought behind it. Anyways, where was I? Right! Pegasi almost getting banned from competing. So, they were about to go through with it, when Roller – at least, he says it was him – pointed out that most pegasi wings would be completely useless for racing. They’re supposed to generate upward lift, which would be worse than useless in a scooter race, so really, the rule would only be affecting Scootaloo, and nopony liked the idea of banning a pony who’s special talent was racing from racing.”

Was that her special talent? I just thought it was scootering. I didn’t know it was specifically racing scooters. That probably made me a bad marefriend, but I knew how to make it up to her. “So, when exactly is the Hoofington Open?” I asked, smiling at her. “I’m more than a bit curious about it.”

“Oh,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s at the end of spring every year. We’ll be heading out in a couple of weeks for the qualifying heats, and then just… I don’t know what there is to do out there. I’ve never really left Manehattan, and Hoofington seems a lot smaller.”

I nodded my head. “It is. Or, if it’s anything like Ponyville was, it is, but I’m sure there’s a lot of fun stuff to do. I remember back in Ponyville, I’d go to the bakery or just play around the lake. There was a bowling alley, and…” I waved a hoof. “Okay, it might not have everything Manehattan does, but it’s okay. You could probably get a lot of good reading done there, if that’s your thing.”

She laughed. “It is. What gave it away? The fact I never go anywhere without a book, my name, or my cutie mark?”

“Well, I really didn’t know the first thing, so I guess two and three,” I said, looking around as more racers passed us. “Hey, if Roller and Scootaloo are rivals, then why did he stick up for her?”

“Oh,” she said, taking a step away from the curb and the other viewers, “That’s… I think it’s an athlete thing. They both want to beat each other, but they want it to be fair, and when he trains, he trains to beat her. I like to joke that he’s closer to her than me.” I caught a flash of a look in her eye that said it was more than a joke. I didn’t say that Scootaloo never talked about Roller. But what did I know? She kept everything else about her hobby a secret, so maybe she thought about him all the time.

“I guess I get that,” I said, shaking my head and turning away as the last of the pack passed us. There’d probably be a few stragglers, but Scootaloo and Roller were long gone by now, so who cared? “Anyways, what’s…” I trailed off, as I caught a few ponies speaking in whispers and gesturing at me from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t want to go through another round of autographs. “Is there somewhere here I can get a drink?”

“There’s a bar and lounge just down the block,” she said, pointing. “The Olive. It’s open until basically dawn, but it’s a bit pricey. I tried going there for a snack during one of these races, and I thought I was seeing double when I saw how much everything cost.”

“Not a problem,” I said, turning towards where she pointed. “You want anything to drink? I’ll buy.”

“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t really drink, and… are you sure you should? After everything you said about the penthouse, it seems like–”

“I don’t drink a lot anymore,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I don’t drink to get drunk anymore, and I don’t even drink everyday, but sometimes, I just… I need a drink. That’s not bad, is it?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and following after me. “It certainly doesn’t sound like it, but… why do you need a drink tonight?”

“Two reasons,” I said, looking back at her as we reached the intersection and pointing to the group of stallions who were giving me looks. “First, because it looks like some ponies might be heading my way soon, and the best-case scenario for that is a repeat of what happened earlier. The worst case is…” I shook my head. “I don’t know, but definitely not fun.”

One of the stallions in the second group shouted. “Hey, Sweetie, why don’t you come over here and show if the papers were right about you.”

“Something like that,” I said, glaring back at the pony and picking up my pace. “Being hit on by a stallion.”

“What’s the second reason?” she asked, keeping pace with me.

“Oh, right, to celebrate Scootaloo having a whole secret life she didn’t want to bother me with,” I said, spotting the bar and stopping in my tracks as recognition set in. The Olive. I’d been here once before. On Bright Lights’ birthday. At least, if my dream was right, I had. I did a quick pulse of the horn to make sure this wasn’t another hallucination. “You can see that, right?”

“The bar right in front of us?” she asked, looking at me. “Yes, I can see it. Or was there something else?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head and taking the steps down to the bar’s entrance and looking back at her. “So, are you coming in?”

“Oh, I think I’ll stay out here, where I can see the sky and not have to worry about being buried under tons of building.” She nodded. “I’ll duck in when they’re close to finishing the race if you’re still in.” There was a long pause. “Hopefully, you won’t be.”

“Wait,” I said, stopping at the door. “Are you afraid of buildings? Because you might be living in the wrong place, if you are.”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, of course not. I happen to live in a building, and it’s very nice. I just hate being in a basement, I feel so… trapped, like it’s just waiting for the chance to turn into a tomb. No, I’m strictly an above-ground girl.”

“Alright,” I said, shrugging my shoulders and opening the door with my magic. How long ago had it been I walked out the other way to feel cold wind cutting into my face. At least a year, right? “Well, I’ll be out as soon as I finish my drink, then. Uhmm, are you okay waiting on the street?”

“I’m used to it, Sweetie,” she said. “Waiting for hours on the curb comes with dating a racer. At least I had somepony to talk with for the first half of it.”

“Yeah, it was fun, especially once everypony else left.” I grinned. “How much do you think they’d hate it if we forced them to have dinner together some time?”

“We’ll have to find out when they finish their race,” she said as I trotted into the bar. I stepped through the threshold into a mostly-empty lounge. There were a few ponies sitting in back booths, a couple more near the stage, the singer, the staff, and…

The door shut behind me as I stared. It couldn’t be her. We hadn’t spoken in years, and now she was just sitting in a booth staring into her drink while the singer sang some upbeat pop song that definitely didn’t fit with the lounge’s atmosphere. I trotted over towards my first marefriend. “So… funny running into you here, right?”

Diamond Tiara looked up at me and then back to her drink, then back again. “It’s true what they say about absinthe.”

“What’s that?” I asked, sitting opposite her. “Oh, do you mind?”

“You know,” she said, raising up the green drink. “That it makes you hallucinate. That’s why you’re here, right?”

I laughed. She thought she was hallucinating. That was cute. Although, to be fair, most of my hallucinations were ghosts from the past, so maybe not that cute. “No, I’m real, and… kind of surprised to see you here.”

“It’s mutual,” she said, pushing her drink away. “Maybe I need to try a lighter cocktail.”

“Since you’re here, I’m thinking about a rum punch, what do you think?” I asked, looking at her. Her hair was longer, and her old tiara was gone, replaced by a platinum filigree pin placed on the lapel of the red blazer she was wearing. She looked… I guess, professional.

She frowned. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t remind me of that mistake,” she said.

“What mistake?” I asked, looking at her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, had she?

“Who gave you your first drink, Sweetie?” she asked. “Who convinced you it was fine?”

“Oh,” I said, shaking my head. “But it’s not like it’s your fault. I chose to keep drinking, you just… lots of ponies drink. I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” she said, rethinking her position and pulling the glass closer to her. “Because from where I’m sitting, it feels like I gave you that first push down the slippery slope.” Her eyes narrowed. “Also, between what Scootaloo told me and what I read in the papers, are you sure you should be drinking?”

“I’m just having one glass,” I said, looking through the cocktail list. Also, she was still talking with Scootaloo. Add that to the list of things she was keeping from me. “Hmm, do you know how the blood orange sunrise is?”

“It’s probably great,” she said. “This is one of the best bars in Manehattan, so I don’t think there’s anything bad on the menu. And can you please tell me just what you’re doing here so late? Or at all? Does Scootaloo know you’re out?”

“She’s the reason why I’m out,” I said, smiling. Let’s see how much they told each other. “She’s having one of her races, I went out to cheer her on, but apparently these races are really long, so I kind of wound up here.”

“Oh, I didn’t know she had one of her races tonight,” Tiara said like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Then again, we haven’t been talking too much lately; she’s been–”

“Focusing on my recovery, I know,” I said, waving a hoof. “I’ve heard that line way too many times since I woke up. Seriously, you… it gets a little old after the ten thousandth time, but if I complain, then I sound ungrateful, so I just… deal with it. Anyways, I get way too much talking about myself with everypony else. How have you been? Also,why are you here?”

“It’s one of the best bars in Manehattan, and I wanted to get out of the house for a bit. Socket’s busy, and when he’s working, it’s too loud to sleep. Plus, we’re looking to expand into the nightclub scene, so I’m chalking this all up as market research. I’ll either own this club or have it driven out of business by the end of the year.”

“Wait, I thought Tiara’s was a store,” I said, shaking my head. “What are you doing buying bars and stuff?”

“Tiara’s is an ethos,” she said, smiling and shifting forward. “The belief that the best should be available for everypony who wants it, and that goes beyond the storefront. We believe life’s more than just things; it’s experiences, and I think we can provide the best of those too.” She said the words like she’d said them a thousand times before. “That’s why we’re looking at ways to improve the average pony’s night on the town by opening new restaurants, bars, nightclubs, and lounges that make the best affordable for the rest.” She blinked and shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve said that pitch so many times, it’s reflex at this point.”

“It’s fine,” I said, looking around the room as the waiter came over to help us. “Could I get the blood orange sunrise, please?” I asked. I looked to Tiara. “Do you want anything?”

Tiara just shook her head as the waitress glanced at her. “Okay, just one blood orange sunrise,” I said, before pausing. “Hey, do you recognize me? Any familiarity at all?”

“Not personally, no,” the waitress said. She wasn’t that bad looking, kind of cute. I liked the sloppy bun her mane was in – but I guess that didn’t matter, since I was dating Scooaloo. I could still look, though, right? That wasn’t cheating? It shouldn’t be, but I thought a lot of things shouldn’t be cheating. “But has anypony ever said you look like Sweetie Belle?”

I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I heard that. One mare decides to go crazy and ruin her life, and I have to keep hearing about it. You know, if I got a bit for every time somepony stopped me on the street to ask me if I’m her, I could retire.” She laughed, Diamond Tiara just raised an eyebrow.

“What?” I said as the waitress trotted away with my order. “I just dealt with a crowd of ponies who wanted me to sign everything not nailed down, and that’s one of the better reactions I could hope for. Something tells me I won’t be embraced as a counter-culture icon here. More like a… something they don’t want to deal with.” I dropped my voice down to a whisper. “Especially since last time I was here, I kind of stole a martini and dropped it on the floor.”

“Why would you do that?” Tiara asked, a bit too loud for my taste. I glanced around to make sure nopony heard. They hadn’t.

“I was on a lot of drugs, and kind of couldn’t understand the idea that something wasn’t mine. I just wanted the drink, so I took it.” I laughed. “That probably makes me sound awful.”

“The important thing is you’re not that mare anymore,” she said. Oh yeah, she would understand, wouldn’t she? How many years had she been completely awful. Not completely awful. At her worst, she still couldn’t hold a candle to you. I sighed. Welcome back, voice in my head. It was nice going for a few hours without you.

“Yeah, so… Can I talk to you about that stuff?” I asked, looking across the table to her as the waitress returned with our drinks. Ooh! Of course, that’s what I liked about her, she was wearing this cute little serving uniform, that was really concealing. The skirt was a bit too long for my tastes, but it wasn’t too long. I bet I could get a nice waitress outfit for Scootaloo. I added it to my shopping list and floated the drink from the waitress. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” she said, giving me a nod. “If you need anything else, just let me know.” I took a sip of the drink, and… Ooh! Blood orange was good, and there was just a bit of a pineapple taste in there. And vodka, of course. That was the alcoholic glue that held all the deliciousness together.

“I’m happy to listen,” Diamond Tiara said, smiling. “You gave me a chance when nopony else would, and you defended me to your friends. Even if we didn’t end well, I’m not going to forget that.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And… I am sorry about how that happened, you really deserved better, but once Bright Lights–”

She held up a hoof. “Sweetie, I spent a lot of time thinking about what happened, and I don’t think… even before Bright Lights showed up, I could see you weren’t doing well. I wanted to help, but you wouldn’t let me. You kept insisting everything was fine, and I didn’t want to… What did I know? I’d only been good for a few months, you’d been good your entire life. If you said you were fine, you were fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I should have done a lot of things better, and I didn’t, and I just let Bright Lights do all the thinking for me once she offered.”

“But she’s not responsible for everything,” Tiara said. “She wasn’t the one twisting Melody and me up. She wasn’t the one driving us to this… I don’t even know how to describe what it, it was just this feeling of weakness and dependence. You wouldn’t let us say no to you, you knew all the buttons to press to get us to do whatever you wanted. That wasn’t her, Sweetie. That was all you.”

I swallowed something down. “It… wasn’t that bad, was it? You enjoyed yourself, right? I did try to give you what you wanted, I think. You know, in exchange for doing what I wanted.”

She glared at me. “It was worse. I loved you, and I had to sit and watch as something terrible consumed you, drawing out everything bad in you, and if I didn’t like it, you’d make me like it. The right kiss, the right touch, to make all my thoughts disappear for a few minutes combined with the right words to give me the hint that the Sweetie I loved was still in there, convincing me it was better to just do what you wanted.”

“Okay, maybe… That was bad, because I was getting you to do what I wanted, but wouldn’t it be better if I was doing it to make you happy?” I asked. “That would be kind of selfless, right, taking care of you to give you what you want?”

“Trading a slave for a pet?” she asked, voice rising. I winced and looked around. “No, that’s not better, it’s just a different type of awful, and why are you…” She trailed off. “Oh, you’re still doing it, aren’t you? That’s why you want me to say it’s okay, so you won’t have to feel guilty. Well, guess what?” She leaned in close and whispered. “You should feel guilty, it shows you still have a conscience, and that’s not a voice in your head you should ignore. You taught me that.” She got to her hooves and trotted away. “I won’t sit here and listen to you try and justify yourself. You can do that alone.”

“But I’m just doing what she wants!” I shouted as she trotted away. “It’s not my fault, I’m just trying to be a good marefriend.”

Everypony in the lounge had turned to look at me. Even the stupid singer had paused for a second. My eye twitched. What did she know? Her life was probably all sunshine and rainbows, and she was going to judge me? What gave any of them the right to judge me? I downed my drink and threw a hoofful of bits on the table. Two for two, wouldn’t be coming back here again, even if the blood orange sunrise was really good. Well, maybe I could give it a third chance. I trotted out of the bar.

“I’m done,” I said to Page Turner as I climbed the stairs.

“Oh, that was fast,” she said. “I thought it would take longer for you to–”

“Nope, I didn’t want to leave you waiting,” I said, trotting back to the finish line. I could see Tiara ahead of me, moving in the same direction. My eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t. We were friends.

“Were,” Bright Lights said. “It looks like she hates you now, though, and…” She grinned. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s going to tell Scootaloo what you’re doing. Do you think Scootaloo’ll stick around after that?”

I clenched my jaw. “She won’t. She won’t, I won’t let her.”

“What was that?” Page Turner asked from my other side. I shook my head.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine, just… thinking,” I said. Bright Lights was right. Again. Tiara was going to ruin one of the few good things I had left in my life, just because she felt like she could judge me. Like she knew even a little bit of what I’d been through. I’d suffered enough, I didn’t need anymore, and I was just doing what Scootaloo wanted! I was trying to be a good marefriend!

I trotted past the finish line. “You stay here and keep an eye on her,” I said, pointing a hoof at Diamond Tiara. “I’m going for a little walk.”

“Keep an eye on who?” Page Turner asked. “And are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, and keep an eye on the pink mare in the red blazer, you know, the only one who doesn’t fit in here?” I said, turning my trot into a jog.

“But there’s no–” I didn’t hear her as I ran away. She could wait. Everything could wait. I had to save Scootaloo. Save my relationship with Scootaloo.

I thought as I jogged, looking for her orange blur. She’d forgive me for what I was about to do. Of course, she would. She’d forgiven me for so much, what was this? It would just be another little Sweetie Belle accident. She’d shake her head, say poor Sweetie, and nurse me back to health.

Something between a grin and a snarl spasmed and died on my face. She’d spend some more time pitying me, but unless I was holding the reins, she was always going to pity me. I guess that’s just what we were, wasn’t it? Not exactly what I dreamed, but it was what she wanted.

Scootaloo and Roller rounded the corner, orange and grey blurs battling for the lead. I started to hyperventilate and shout. “No! No! Stay away!” I shouted, lighting up my horn and sending a wave of force cracking into a building and backpedalling towards the street. “No, please! Don’t!” Ponies were looking at me now, the scene was set, and it was time for the main show. I gave my best ear-shattering scream and sprinted through the stunned ponies into the street, right in front of a very surprised Scootaloo. She tried to swerve, but only managed to spin to the side. I winced at what was about to–

CRACK!

Skin and metal and bone collided in a sound I never wanted to hear again as my hooves left the ground. Time stretched out and my second of flight turned into eternity as I saw the look of horror on her face. She’ll never forgive herself for this. It was okay, though, the pain was all going to be worth it if it saved our relationship. And there was going to be a lot of pain. I could already feel it radiating from my side, and I hadn’t even hit the ground yet.

Right on cue, I heard the ripping sound as fur and skin slid against asphalt. More pain. Tears stung my eyes as Scootaloo hopped off her scooter to stand over me. “What the heck happened?” she shouted to the crowd. A second later, Roller was off his scooter and standing next to her.

“I don’t know,” one pony said. “She started screaming for ponies to stay away, and before we could do anything, she was out in the middle of the road.”

Scootaloo sighed as I was lowered onto the sidewalk. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” she said. “Can you move?” I tried to roll over on my side and winced.

“No,” I said, trying to push myself off the asphalt and collapsing as a pain in my side shot through me.

“Alright,” Scootaloo said, turning to Roller. “We need to get her off the road as soon as possible.” She tapped at his horn. “Can you use that to float her?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he said, lighting it up with a gray light that covered my eyes a second later as I floated off the ground. “What the heck’s her problem? She just ran out onto the road like she had a death wish.”

“It’s… complicated,” Scootaloo said, from just out of view. “And can somepony please get a doctor or a stretcher or something? How are you feeling, Sweetie?”

You know, I just betrayed you in, like, every sense of the word to keep you from ending our relationship, so… “Not great,” I said, trying to smile to her. I’d make it up to her. I’d make it up to her. I’d get her to go to the Hoofington race, she’d win, I’d give her everything she wanted. It was different than what Bright Lights did to me, and different than what I did to Diamond Tiara. It was. It had to be.

“Yeah, well, we’ll get that taken care of. Hey, Roller, do you know some way to numb the pain or whatever?” Scootaloo asked. He laughed as I was lowered down to the ground.

“A painkiller spell? Yeah, I had to learn that one pretty quick after I started racing. We unicorns aren’t as used to crashing as you pegasi are, so if I run into a wall – which I don’t – it’s going to hurt.”

“That happened once,” she said. “And did you see how great my handling was right before the crash? You couldn’t even dream of getting that performance out of a scooter. And hurry up and cast the spell.”

There was a tickle of magic, and everything was numb, my whole body turned to lead, and I couldn’t feel a thing. Just like old times.

Outside of me, ponies were talking. I think I started moving at some point. Either that, or the stars above me did. My eyelids got heavier, and soon the dark swallowed the stars. “I’m gonna sleep,” I slurred, tongue rolling around in my mouth like it wasn’t part of my body anymore.

When they opened again, I was floating in the hub, Luna looking down at me. “What happened?” Cutting straight to the point like always.

“Somepony cast a painkiller spell on me after I got hit by a scooter,” I said. “And I got hit by a scooter because I had another fun hallucination fit. Lucky for me getting hit by a scooter snaps you right out of those.”

“No you didn’t,” Luna said, shaking her head. “You’ve been strumming the fabric of the dreaming for the last hour at least. You even brushed against the mind of another dreamer.”

Oh, no, please don’t be– “Who was it?” I asked, tilting my head and hiding my horror.

“Diamond Tiara,” she said. “It’s difficult for me to understand what happened, but it wasn’t a regular hallucination, I don’t sense those in my Dreaming.”

“So…” It didn’t matter. I ran out into the road to get hit by a scooter for nothing, I betrayed Scootaloo for something that didn’t even matter. “Was it like how I pulled Scootaloo into my dream that one time?” I asked.

“Similar, I believe. Not entirely the same, and I don’t know if I’d say you pulled her into your dream, but your minds certainly did meet.” She shook her head and floated Tiara’s gem near me. “She’s dreaming about you for the first time in a while thanks to your intervention.”

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Is there anything I can do to fix it? I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to hurt anypony.”

“And no harm was done to Miss Tiara. Tomorrow, she will wake up recalling a strange dream, she’ll think briefly of you, and then she will go about her day. You, on the other hoof…” She leaned in close. “It seems the first day without your mother’s supervision has caused you to take a rather massive step backwards.

“It’s not… it’s not that bad,” I said, smiling at her. “I’m just stressed out about, you know, I have my first show tomorrow, and I still can’t sing, plus it’s just a little more difficult making things work with Scootaloo than I imagined.” I shook my head. “Not that it’s bad, but you know what she likes, and how difficult it is for me to give it to her.” I rubbed my forehead. “I have to be creative.”

Luna nodded and turned away. “And as the strain worsens, the fractures in your mind deepen. There’s a reason they’ve been trying to avoid putting any undue worry on you, but you seem intent on finding it.”

“Wait,” I said, shaking my head. “Didn’t you tell me how much you hated being coddled when you got back?” I asked, looking up at her. “And now you’re saying I should let them treat me like a stupid filly for the rest of my life.”

She sighed. “You misrepresent my position, Sweetie.Yes, I know how frustrating it is to be locked out of the loop of your own life, to be treated like a foal incapable of making any decision, but at the same time, I do not advocate throwing you unprepared to the proverbial wolves or less-proverbial Night Terrors. It took several seasons before I was ready to resume my most basic royal functions beyond the customary raising of the moon.”

“So, what?” I asked, looking back at the dream gems and finding Mom’s and Scootaloo’s. “You’re saying I should just give up? Just let them tell me how to live my life?”

“Do you take a perverse pleasure out of misconstruing others’ words, Sweetie? Again, that’s not my position, I’m simply suggesting you do not rush to recovery. Move slowly, and if something is causing you strain and worsening your hallucinations, perhaps take care to avoid it,” she said. She had to be the best at making reasonable requests sound like orders. Maybe Princess Celestia had more experience, but I don’t think that was her style, more like just convincing you that her idea was what you wanted all along.

“What should I do, then?” I asked, rubbing my forehead and turning away from her. “I can’t – I won’t – give up my relationship with Scootaloo, but it would be… nice if it wasn’t so explodey. I want what I dreamed of, not four fights a day.”

“And you refuse to consider the idea that the thing is just not meant to be? You have more differences than most couples,” she said.

“And we’ve been through more than most couples, too!” I said, digging my hooves into non-existent ground. “We’re not some schoolfillies fooling around; she’s been there for me through everything, I know she’ll do everything she can to help me, and I owe it to her to be the marefriend she deserves. I want to make her happy, I need to, and if I can’t make a relationship work with her, then what hope do I have?”

She sighed. “I could tell you your relationship is a mistake. That it won’t last. I suppose I am now, but I won’t try to persuade you, and I won’t violate your confidence as long as I feel confident there’s no lasting harm posed to either of you.” Then I better not tell her the real reason I got hurt. Her look darkened and tone dropped. “I know breaking confidences of the heart can be the fastest way to lose a trusted position. Instead, I’ll simply advise you speak with Scootaloo about your concerns.”

“But if I do that, she’ll leave,” I said, shaking my head. “I know she will, the second she thinks our relationship is hurting me, she’ll end it, and it’s not hurting me!” I stopped and took a few breaths, calming down after my outburst. Try not to sound crazy, Sweetie. Good luck. I growled. “Okay, it’s stressful sometimes, but it gives me something I need. It makes me happy, usually; it just has some rough patches I need to work on.” I stroked my mane with a hoof. “But it’s fine, I just need to work on it, and we’ll both be happy, and I’ll be what she needs me to be.”

“And what about what you need yourself to be?” she asked, tilting her head and staring at me.

“That’s…” I trailed off. “I need to be with her. She’s the only pony who can forgive me for what I’ve done that isn’t my Mom.”

“But you could find somepony who has no need to forgive you,” Luna said, “Wouldn’t it be better to approach the relationship as equals? The power disparity you’re describing sounds unhealthy.”

“Maybe,” I said, sitting down. “But I can’t… I have to do everything I can to make it work, and I think… there are just a few things we have to work through, and I know she’ll eventually come around. Like, if my mom could make it work with Applejack for years, Scootaloo and I can work through this.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget that your mother’s relationship with Applejack ended, and that the two of them are both happily married or engaged to somepony else?” she asked. “Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do to a pony you love is end the relationship before more harm can be done.”

“Not yet,” I said, shaking my head. “It makes me happy a lot of the time. It does., we just… have some things to work on.”

“Obstinate mare,” Luna said, shaking her head. “But I’ve said my peace, and sincerely hope you’ll meditate on my words in the following days. Do not discount centuries of experience so quickly.”

“Alright,” I said, getting to my hooves. “Sorry for–” The world lurched, and I turned onto my back, staring at ceiling panels as my eyes flicked open. Right, the hospital. “What time is it?” I asked, looking at the clock. The painkiller spell’d apparently worn off in my sleep because I could feel again, even if it was just a dull ache in my side where the scooter had run into me. Where Scootaloo had run into me. Where I’d made her run into me.

“Easy,” a mare said. Not Scootaloo’s voice, so either the doctor or the nurse. “How are you feeling?”

I looked down at myself. Bandages were wrapped around my barrel, and I could feel something creamy beneath them. Something for where the asphalt had scraped against me? “Okay,” I said, looking back around the room and spotting the other pony. Pink mare with red mane, wearing a doctor’s coat. “Where’s Scootaloo?”

“Waiting outside,” she said, glancing at the door. “I believe the police officers are still getting her version of events. I’m sure they’ll want to speak with you next.”

“Police officers?” I asked, sitting up and wincing as the pain in my side flared up. “What are they doing here? She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She hit you with her scooter in an unsanctioned street race,” the doctor said. “That’s usually of interest to the police.” She’s going to go to jail, and it’s all your fault. She handed me a piece of paper. “Are these your current medications?”

“Uhmm… yeah,” I said, nodding. “Nothing bad’s going to happen to her, right? It was completely my fault, I was the one who ran into the road, and she tried to dodge, but…” I trailed off. I’d tried to fix a problem that wasn’t even real, and instead made a very real problem.

“And I’m just so proud of you,” Bright Lights said, entering into the room. “Obviously, your delivery needs work – I wouldn’t have wound up in the hospital – but your complete willingness to twist around your marefriend’s love to avoid any sort of consequence? Well done. You even managed to make it so she was the villain. A truly inspired performance.”

I groaned. What did it say that she was complimenting me? You know what it says, you just don’t want to admit it. Yeah, I did, didn’t I?

“No, I don’t think so,” the doctor said. “From what I overheard, there are more than enough witnesses saying the accident was unavoidable, and with your medical history…”

“Yeah, great,” I said, waving a hoof at her. “Anything else?”

“Not from me, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sure the officers will want to see you shortly, and I’ll let them know you’re up.”

“Yay,” I said, looking out to the… No window. Just one door that looked pretty heavy, and it looked like the walls and floor were both heavily carpeted. Great, I was in the crazy mare room.

To be fair…

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said to the voice in my head and earning a look from the doctor. I pointed a hoof to my head in explanation. “Just thinking out loud.”

“Of course,” she said, staring at me as another mare – a nurse? – trotted in the room.

“What’s she for?” I asked, tilting my head. “More tests?”

The nurse smiled. “No, Sweetie, I’m just here to keep you company while you recover,” she said. Translation: She was here to make sure I didn’t do something stupid again. I was never going to get to be alone again.

“Great,” I said, sighing and blowing an errant strand of mane. “Do you mind if, instead of talking, I just stare at the ceiling until the cops get here?”

“Not at all,” she said, sitting down and pulling a magazine out from a rack on the wall. “Do you want anything to read?”

I tilted my head. “Do you have a copy of Sweetie Belle’s Lovers?”

She pursed her lips. “Uhmm… No, I don’t think we do. We don’t generally have new books in our library.”

“That’s fine,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll just stare at the ceiling, then.”

She didn’t add anything on after, which I guess meant she agreed. Good enough for me. “So, can we finally talk?” Mom asked, coming out from nowhere. I looked from her to the nurse, and Mom hopped into my head. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I thought, emerging into a blank space in my mind. So not that different from the rest of your head. I laughed. I almost wished the rest of my head was so blank. Instead, it was filled with angry voices and crazy. Nope, nothing would be a big step up. Which was… really sad. But in a funny way.

“So, just to recap recent events, you hallucinated a conversation with Diamond Tiara where she called you to task for your actions with Scootaloo, and instead of listening to her, you jumped in front of Scootaloo, risking both of your lives. Is that about it?

“I was trying to save our relationship,” I said, decorating the blank space and making it look more like what I remembered Carousel Boutique’s main floor to look like. “That’s… I’m not proud of it, but I did what I had to do.”

“Only if the relationship’s worth salvaging,” she said, shaking her head. “And I don’t think it is.”

“But that’s just your opinion,” I said. “What do you know?”

“Sweetie Belle, I am you, or at least an extension of you. If I think something, then so do you,” she said, stepping from behind the counter to trot in front of me.

“Well, if you’re me, then you were there for my talk with Luna. You know what I said to her, and I’ll say the same to you. Can’t you just… leave, like you did three years ago?”

“No, Sweetie,” she said, shaking her head. “We’re not leaving you again. It was a mistake then, and we don’t make the same mistakes, do we?”

“So, what?” I asked, looking up at her. Huh, in my dream, I made her taller than me. I summoned a mirror and looked at myself. Still looked like me, so… My mom popped and she shrank down to my size. “I’m just supposed to be miserable as long as I’m dating Scootaloo?”

“As long as your relationship causes you to clash with your conscience, yes. If you can make things work out, I’ll be delighted, but from where I’m standing, I feel it would be easier to just go back to being friends. You can love each other without being in love with each other,” Mom said, smiling to try and reassure me about something.

“Ugh.” I thunked the side of my head against the wall. “So, you’re saying if I can just make it work, I’ll be fine? You know, get it so I don’t clash with my conscience?”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Well, that certainly is one solution. Just… perhaps not the easiest. Or the sanest. Or the safest. Or the best for your recovery. Or–”

“Miss Belle?” My eyes flicked open. A stallion and a mare both dressed in blue were standing over me. “Can we speak with you?”

“Are you going to arrest Scootaloo?” I asked, tilting my head at them. “Because if you are, then definitely not.”

The mare sat down and pulled out a flip book. “We’re just trying to establish how preventable your accident was. So far, it doesn’t look like assault to us.”

“Fine,” I said, waving a hoof at them. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with why you ran into the middle of the road with no warning while racers approached. Were you trying to injure yourself?” the stallion asked.

Yes. “Of course, not,” I said, smiling at him. “I was… I started seeing a bunch of ponies from my past yelling at me and threatening to hurt me, so I ran. I don’t think I even realized where I was. I just…” A tightness formed in a hoof. “I had to run.”

“So it was just a coincidence that you happened to collide with your marefriend and one of your primary caretakers?” he said. I took a better look at him. Gruff and no nonsense; if he’d been wearing sunglasses, it would’ve been perfect. I bet he had the glasses, but he wasn’t wearing them because he was inside and it was nighttime.

“Well, she was in first place, and had the least time to react, so I wouldn’t say it was a coincidence, but she wasn’t aiming for me,” I said, doing my best to keep my smile up for the show. Or was smiling the wrong thing to do when you were being questioned by police? I let it drop.

“But were you aiming for her?” the mare asked. “We have one mare placing you coming out of a bar, very clearly distressed, ordering her to keep an eye on a mare she couldn’t find, and then running off in the direction of the racers. You didn’t stop walking until you could see the racers, and then you started shouting and dashed into the road, just in time for your marefriend to hit you.”

I laughed, tightness gripping my chest, and my ribs howled. Right, maybe laughing wasn’t the best idea right now for a couple of reasons.. They couldn’t figure out the truth. Tiara wasn’t there to tell them the important bit of the story. All they had were a couple of really important bits of information. “Why would I do that?” I asked. “I love Scootaloo, sure I was upset after the bar, but I wasn’t with her, and I just… No, I wouldn’t try to hurt her.”

“We’re not accusing you of trying to hurt anypony,” the gray mare said, looking at me with her green eyes. They were the same color as mine. “Just trying to understand what happened.”

“Okay, well… Like I said, I was walking to try and clear my head after the bar, where I might have had a drink, but it was just the one, and I was getting more and more upset, and it felt like somepony was pressing tighter on my head with every step, until I freaked out and lost control. It was like I wasn’t even in control of myself, I just saw a bunch of ponies glaring and yelling at me and getting ready to chase after me, and the only way out was onto the street. You looked through my medical history, right?”

“We did,” the stallion said while the mare jotted down some notes. “We just like being thorough.”

“No stone unturned,” she said, chiming in.

“Great,” I said, not rolling my eyes in front of cops. “What else do you want to know?”

***

They wanted to know a lot more. Maybe more than I knew, but I didn’t tell them exactly what they wanted to know. Not the real reason I ran into the road. No, that truth that could never be told. If they knew, Scootaloo’d know, and then I’d lose everything. Or her, but that was pretty close to the same thing.

You still have your mom.

Well, yeah, I did, I’d always have her, so I guess I’d just lose half of everything. How would that be for repayment, though? Instead of giving her what you want and deserve, I ran in front of your scooter to probably make you hate yourself almost as much as I hate myself. But it was for a good cause, even if it wasn’t a real one.

No, that wouldn’t work. I had to keep us together, no matter what Mom and Luna and probably Doctor Hooves said. Keeping her happy was probably the only good thing I could do.

Scootaloo trotted into the room. She’d tried to hide it, but I could see the red puffiness in her eyes. And the look in her eyes, I’d seen it way too many times in the mirror for me to not recognize it.

“Hey,” I said, smiling at her. “Rough night?”

“What the hell were you thinking?” she asked, glaring at me. “How stupid can you be, just…” She let out a strangled scream. “Why would you go to a bar?! Did you not get enough drinking for one lifetime back at the penthouse? And then–”

“I didn’t have a drink,” I said. Deflect. Deflect. Deflect. If she couldn’t be angry at me, she’d get angry at herself, and then I’d be there to help her feel better. To let her know it wasn’t anypony’s fault. Except yours. Yeah, except mine, but I couldn’t say that. “I… I went into the bar, sure, but that’s only because I had a dream about it before, and I wanted to see if it was real. To see if it wasn’t just some bizarre dream I cooked up.”

“And?” she asked, eyes softening. Good, take the bait, Scootaloo, love. I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll make you feel all better.

“Yeah, it was real. Page Turner can tell you I only ducked in there for a minute,” I said. Plus, I didn’t even really finish my drink, did I? “I promise, I didn’t have a drink in there.”

“Page Turner also said you felt like you needed a drink. That you offered to buy her one,” Scootaloo said. Shoot! That was going to be… Well, when in doubt, tell some truth. Just not all.

“Okay, I lied to her.” I held up a hoof before Scootaloo could talk over me. “What, me saying I needed a drink sounds a lot better than saying I need to investigate a place I maybe hallucinated to see if the rest of the dream was right.”

“What was the rest of the dream?” she asked, looking at me on the edge of belief. One more little nudge of truth would do it.

“See, it is your special talent, Sweetie,” Bright Lights said, crawling her way out from the ground.

“It was… I almost froze to death, I think,” I said, looking away from her and letting a few tears ball up in my eye. “I don’t know, maybe I was just drugged out of my head and hallucinating, or maybe it was just a dream, or maybe it was completely and totally true, but I don’t know if I almost died or not,” I said. “Maybe there were a bunch of times I almost died, and they’re all jumbled up in my head, but I just want to know, you know? I think I should at least know how many times I almost died.”

She sighed and trotted over, wrapping her forehooves around my head in the suggestion of a hug. Either she knew not to mess with my barrel or I was really lucky. “Yeah, I know. Your Mom’s going to kill me when she finds out, though.”

“What if she didn’t find out?” I asked as Scootaloo pulled away. I tilted my head at her. “There’s no reason she has to know, right?”

“Sweetie, I promised her I’d keep an eye on you and let her know if anything goes wrong. This counts as pretty wrong to me.”

“It’s not that bad,” I said, waving a hoof. “I’ve got a few scrapes and bruises, maybe I pulled something, but–”

“You broke several ribs, actually,” the nurse in the corner of the room said. She was still there? Her cutie mark must’ve been a wallflower.

“Basically the same thing,” I said, looking back to Scootaloo. “I’ll be out of here in a few hours, take a nap, do my show, and everything will be fine. It’s not like it’s that big a deal.”

“Are you kidding me?” Scootaloo asked, wings flaring. Oh, great, were we going to get in another fight? And if so, would this count as our fifth fight of the day or our first? I sighed. “You had a giant freak-out, ran out into the middle of the road, and almost got run over.” And definitely got run into. “That’s a pretty big deal in my book.”

“Then your book’s pretty small,” I said, rolling my eyes. No! Stop, we need to fix the problem, not make it worse. “Look, I admit, yesterday was pretty rough; first Mom left, then I had all the singing failures, and…” I sighed slowly, deflating into my bed. “I don’t know, I guess seeing that bar just put me over the edge. Like, that dream probably wasn’t a dream, and I almost died a second time. The only reason I didn’t was because of Bright Lights.” Assuming the dream happened like that. It made a good story, at least. “And now, you’re going to go and tell Mom, and she’ll come up, and she’ll never leave me alone again, and… and I thought I could be kind of free, but you know if she comes back, she’s taking me with her to the castle.”

Scootaloo sighed and stared off beyond the walls of my room. “Even if I don’t tell her, Doctor Hooves will see something’s up at your next appointment, and then she’ll find out.”

Shoot! I hadn’t thought about him, and Luna... No, she was fine. She already said she didn’t want to break my confidence. That just left Doctor Hooves.

I smiled, mostly for Scootaloo’s benefit. “Spoken like a mare who’s never had to hide her bruises before.” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. I sighed. “Not like that. You know the stuff Bright Lights and I liked to get into, or at least, you kind of do. Some nights, we’d bust out the riding crop, and the next morning, we’d have to hide it. It’s amazing what some makeup and a dress will do.” And I was already planning on wearing the turtleneck to my performance tomorrow, anyways.

She rubbed her forehead. “Just… The worst part of that is that thanks to you, I kind of get the appeal.” There was a pause as she thought. “You want to do the same thing to me, don’t you?”

“Yep,” I said, grinning to hide the flicker of irritation between my eyes. Again, somepony was comparing me with her, and this time… Well, she always did her BDSM kind of safely. No safewords, but I don’t think she actually knew about them. If I told her to stop, she stopped, I think. Or maybe I never asked her to stop. I definitely didn’t remember her going on after I asked her not to.

“Which means…” the phantom of Bright Lights said, standing double to Scootaloo.

I sighed.

We were the same. Not in every way, not even most ways, but in this particular case, if I did this for Scootaloo, I’d be… I’d be acting just like her. The things I did for love.

“Oh, please, you know you’re going to enjoy it,” Bright Lights said, looking over at Scootaloo, her eyes resting on her flank. “You’ve been enjoying it. Thinking of new humiliations and degradations for her has been the solitary bright point in your life lately, and I bet if I asked whether you’ll use a paddle, whip, rod, or riding crop for her first time, you’d give me an answer right away.”

Feather duster. Most ponies didn’t think about the plastic rod in the center of it, it was lightweight so not likely to break the skin, and… Yeah, I was going to enjoy it, but I was also doing it for her. Mostly for her. Mostly.

“You’re enjoying us, right?” I asked, scooting up in my bed slightly, eyes trained on her, looking for any hint of deception.

“Uhh… yeah,” she said, eyes flicking away for a second. That was more than a hint.

“Scootaloo…” I said, looking at her levelly. “How many times have you told me to be honest with you?” I didn’t listen, but that didn’t change that she’d said it.

“Yeah, alright,” she said, looking back at me. “Look, I’m enjoying it, it’s fun, it really is, but… don’t you think we’re fighting too much?”

I rolled my eyes. “Uhh… no, I don’t, because I’m a complete idiot. Of course, I do! But… it just takes time. This is new to both of us, we’re both coming to this from really different angles, so there are obviously going to be some issues, but I like to think we’re ironing them out. But the sex is good, right?”

She nodded, eyes going wide. “Yeah,” she said. I grinned. “Yeah, it is. It’s crazy and I don’t think half of it’s possible, but it’s also amazing. I just kind of feel bad that you’re doing all the work.”

That was a smidge annoying, but… one day. “I like watching you,” I said, “I like seeing you happy, and if I’m making you happy, then I’m fine.” Plus, I had magic, which helped so much.

“Thanks for being so cool,” she said, smiling and rubbing the back of her head. “And sorry if I’ve been snapping at you too much lately, I just want to take care of you.”

“Well, I don’t need that much taking care of,” I said, nodding and ignoring the look she gave me. “Okay, so maybe I’ve had a few little problems, but it won’t happen again.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m still not letting you out of my sight again.” No, no, no. That’s not… Ugh. I needed to be out of her sight for my plan to work..

“Come on,” I said, smiling up at her from my hospital bed. “I’m not planning on running into any roads again.”

“Were you planning on running into the road tonight?” she asked, looking at me and raising an eyebrow.

“No.” Great, she wasn’t going to make this easy for me, because who wants that? Time to improvise. “Okay, I get you want someone to look after me, but I don’t want you to waste your life doing it. I want you to get out there and chase your dreams.”

“Look, the racing stuff, it doesn’t really matter that much, what I want is for you to–”

“Liar!” I shouted. “Do you have a taking-care-of-Sweetie mark on your flank? I don’t think so, and I’m not going to let the mare I love ignore her dreams for me.” I closed my eyes. “What if we hired someone, kind of like a babysitter, to take care of me when you’re not around?” Humiliating to be seventeen and still have a babysitter, but it allowed her to do what she loves.

“And it allows you to get what you want,” Bright Lights said. “Or are you not planning on ‘encouraging’ her to go to the Hoofington Open?”

Okay, so we both got something we wanted my way, that didn’t mean it was a bad plan. “I guess…” Scootaloo sighed. “I suppose that’ll work, but who are we going to get? Are we just going to hire a nurse or…?”

“What about Page Turner?” I asked, tilting my head and smiling at her. I gestured my head at the seat cushion near the table. “She seemed nice.”

“She’s got her own job,” Scootaloo said. “I don’t want to–”

“What does she do?” I asked, sitting up and wincing. Could the healing spell mend the bones any slower? “Because she thought The Olive was pretty pricey, so I bet we can match her pay.”

Scootaloo shook her head, trotting over to the seat and throwing it towards my bed. “You’re not going to rest on this, are you?”

“Nope,” I said, grinning. “Come on, you know I’m right.” I always am.

She rubbed her forehead. “I want to talk with her first. Lay down some rules and stuff. Plus, we’re going to have to write your mom asking if she’ll give us some extra money without mentioning exactly why we’re hiring her.”

“That’s easy,” I said, waving a hoof. If she thinks it’ll help me get better, she’ll do it in a hoofbeat.

“Ooh, wonderful, prey on your mother’s love for you, while keeping her in the dark,” Bright Lights said, standing just behind Scootaloo. “Your callous disregard for others’ feelings is truly something to behold.”

I poofed her away. Not fair, I wasn’t hurting her, I was just doing… Just doing what I had to to keep Scootaloo happy and get what I needed in Hoofington. It was almost all for Scootaloo. She just didn’t know the extent of it.

If she’s interested, alright,” Scootaloo said. “And does it really have to be her? You just met her, and she’s dating my arch-enemy.”

What did she know about arch-enemies? “You seemed to be getting along okay after the race,” I said, tilting my head. “You worked together to get me off the road, and he could’ve just gone ahead and won the race with you out of the way.”

“He doesn’t want to win because I’m distracted. If I’m not at my best, he can’t brag about it,” she said.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like arch-enemies,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have an arch-enemy, and she’s the worst enemy ever. You have a friendly rival. I’d kill for a friendly rival.” Or even an unfriendly rival. Dazzler wasn’t that bad, and after Bright Lights, I’d take an honest enemy over a false friend any day.

“Okay, well, still, you have no idea how irritating he is with that stupid chiseled jaw and smug look in his eyes, and all his…” She smiled. “He goes on so much about how he’s the best racer out there, and every couple of weeks, I get to prove him wrong.”

“I thought you were talking about how irritating he was,” I said, snorting. Because that totally didn’t sound like she had a crush on him. Still, I could use that… The rivalry, not the crush. “And it doesn’t really matter, right? Like, he’s going to the Hoofington Open, and do you think he’ll qualify?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty good. Not as good as me, but definitely a distant second.” I grinned. Pride and vanity, I knew how terrible they could be, and how easy it would be for somepony to take advantage of it.

“So, it sounds like it doesn’t matter,” I said, looking away from her. “He’s going to qualify in the Open, probably do pretty well, and then he’ll be a professional racer, while you’ll still be doing the whole underground street racer thing. That’ll kind of settle who’s best, right?” I tilted my head, so I could see her in the corner of my vision. See that snap of her tail.

“Please, if he wins the Open, it’s only because I’m not there,” she said, flaring her wings. “I could smoke everyone there in my sleep and leaving them sucking on my dust.”

“Then do it,” I said, matching her stare. “Prove you’re better, instead of just saying it.” A quote from one of her favorite movies popped in my head. “Otherwise, it sounds like your ego’s writing checks your body can’t cash.” I grinned, primitive and feral, daring her to take the bait.

She threw her head back and gave a snort. “I totally would, but I’ve got to take care of you. They’ll still be there next year.”

“What if he’s not? What if he wins the Open and decides to call it quits, just so you can never challenge him again? Besides, if you hire the sitter, it’s not a problem, is it? I’ll have somepony sitting next to me the whole time I’m cheering you on in the bleachers. That’s your chance to kick his flank and have it published so everypony in Equestria can read about it.” And then she could be the one in the news instead of me. That would be a fun change.

She stood frozen, gears grinding in her head. “And you’d have someone watching over you the entire time I’m making the circuit?”

“Yep,” I said, nodding my head. “And she’s a unicorn, so if I do freak out, which I won’t, she can hold me still with her magic.”

“We’d have to leave about a week earlier on our trip to do the qualifying heats,” she said. “Is that okay?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh my gosh, yes. Will you please stop trying to find problems and just accept me being nice to you? Otherwise, I’m going to have to be mean and punish you.”

“Really?” she asked, tilting her head and getting to her hooves and taking a step towards me, her face inches from mine. “What would you do to me?”

I leaned up and nuzzled her, ignoring the stabbing pain in my side. “Well, I think I’d start by–” Somepony cleared their throat, and we both whipped our heads around to see the nurse still sitting next to the door, a magazine in her hooves.

“Oh, you’re…” Scootaloo stumbled backwards, cheeks burning scarlet. I tried not to laugh at the sight. I might’ve failed for, like, a second. Scootaloo tried to glare at me through her embarrassment.

“That’s…” I gave another giggle. “I think that’s a pretty good first punishment,” I said. “Ooh! Maybe I can have you go, grab the outfit, and do a little parade around the hospital.”

“Wait, you mean the outfit?” she asked, staring at me like I’d just burned all her Rainbow Dash stuff. “The one with…” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought in front of strangers.

“Come up with another reason why you shouldn’t do the race and see,” I said, grinning at her. Although, actually, probably not. I think just wearing that thing outside would break all sorts of decency laws, but if she pressed me, I’d just have her wear the schoolgirl costume, with its glorious gaskin-high socks that climbed up almost to her barrel. I stifled another giggle. Definitely going to have her walk around in those anyways. Especially if I had her put in…

My thought trailed off, as I noticed the way Scootaloo was looking at me. “Do I want to know, and do I want to hear it with somepony else around?”

More laughter. “Maybe for the first one, and definitely not for the second one.” I glanced at the nurse. “Which I think is a pretty good reason to tell you. Have you ever heard of Purrmese bells?”

They both tilted their heads, and I laughed way too hard, ending up clutching at my side. “Okay, well, what you do with them is you spread–”

“Heard enough!” Scootaloo shouted as I burst out into another fit of giggles. She looked to the nurse. “I’m sorry, I swear she gets off on embarrassing me.”

“Of course, I do,” I said, grinning at Scootaloo. “You do too. It’s kind of the core of our relationship.”

She groaned. “Can I take you anywhere? I’m really sorry about this, again.”

“You can take me to Hoofington,” I said, giving a happy sigh. “Anyways, I have this great idea for our next game, and–”

“Later, alright,” Scootaloo said. I glared at her. She was doing that thing, telling me what to do, while I was playing. Still...

“Alright,” I said, smirking at her, promising punishment for speaking up. She tried to hide her shiver, maybe from me, maybe from the nurse. Hopefully not from me. I looked to the nurse. “So, when can I go?”

Author's Note:

Hey, everyone. Two things:

First, poor Sweetie, she takes a few steps forward and then takes almost as many back. I know this might be frustrating to some readers, but I'd also argue that struggling to overcome mental illness is frustrating, especially when you feel yourself backsliding but can't seem to stop it. It's not a straight line tilting up, it's a wave that dips and rises, and it can feel really awful when you feel yourself going down.

Second, BronyCon is this weekend, and I'll be handing out copies of a short story I wrote specially for the convention. It will find its way to fimfiction sooner rather than later, but if you're at the convention this weekend, that's your chance to get the hard copy. Hope to see some of you there.