Aria Ablaze

by mouch30

Chapter 2

The curtains in Ms. Feather’s Home for At Risk Girls don’t fucking work.

A slip of sunlight found its way upon Aria’s eyes, burning through her eyelids and waking her up. She yawned and stretched, her feet still tender from the previous day. She relaxed, her joints aching with pleasure.

Memories from last night began to hound her once more, now that she was awake. She saw her sisters in everything. A girl with massive curls turned into Adagio, the toothpaste she was provided with was the same color as Sonata’s hair…

She didn’t bother changing out of her sleeping clothes, opting to just throw her robe on her body and get some breakfast. She was able to eat physical food to sustain some strength, which was fine, but she could feel her magic reserves decreasing. She need a meal — a real meal.

Standing in line to get a plate of milky scrambled eggs and pale bacon allowed Aria some time to observe her surroundings. Most of the girls here were as young as she looked, with wide eyes and distant dreams. Some of the women were old; their hands were shaking but their smiles were strong. All the women in this house helped one another with whatever they could, sharing stories about their pasts and comforting those still haunted by the memories.

She had to get out of here.

She spotted Dew Drop at a table alone, drinking nothing but a large cup of hot chocolate.

“Hey,” Aria said, placing her tray on the table. “Good morning.”

Dew Drop slowly lifted her eyes towards Aria’s face, stared for a moment, before her gaze dropped back down to her mug. “Hey.”

Aria swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “Where do you go when you’re not here?”

Dew shrugged. “Around.”

“Anywhere cool?” Aria asked. “Do you go to clubs, or secret parties? Get hammered and party until it’s time to go home?”

“No.” Dew suddenly stood up. “See ya,” she muttered, leaving Aria all alone.

“Psh, whatever,” Aria seethed to herself. “I didn’t wanna be your friend anyways.”

What little flavour her meal had before was gone now. The eggs were too slithery, the bacon too chewy. She wanted to get out.

The first thing she needed was a new outfit. She couldn’t just saunter out in her thin top and shorts, could she?

“Dew Drop, my lovely little dear, I’ve got a surprise for you!” Ms. Feather’s light voice carried its way to Aria’s ears. “A friend of mine is quite skilled with fabric, and I wanted to show my appreciation for you...oh, open it and see for yourself.”

Aria twisted her head slightly to watch Ms. Feather hand Dew a paper bag. The young girl dipped her hand inside and pulled out a patterned sweater dress.

“Oh, Ms. Feather, it’s beautiful!” she cried, wrapping her arms around the older woman. “I’m gonna put it in my room and try it on later, is that okay?”

Aria’s eyes followed the girl, and before she knew it, her feet were following as well.

Dew’s room was not too far from Aria’s. She pretended to fiddle with her own door knob, waiting for Dew to come back out. As Drew walked past her, Aria opened her own door and stepped inside. Leaning back, she bided her time once more until Dew’s shiny hair had disappeared.

There was no time to waste. Aria casually walked to Dew’s room, and pushed the door open. Huh. Her room was a lot nicer than Aria’s. So unfair. She picked up the dress that was laying on the bed, and held it against her body. The shape was nice, fit for a slender girl...like her. The pattern was a mix of pastel shades, pink and blue and white dots. Perfect. She slipped out of her own clothes and put the dress on. Perfect. Oh, and she needed some shoes as well. A rummage through the closet rewarded her with a pair of slip on sneakers. Perfect. She turned to leave the room.

Oh, wait! She smiled and gently slapped her forehead. How was she going to survive the outside world without any money?

With Dew’s purse slung on her shoulder, full of Dew’s measly savings, Aria sauntered into the hall, Dew’s dress snug on her body, Dew’s shoes making thwacking noises on the thin carpet.

No one paid too much attention to her retreating figure, and thankfully, Dew was nowhere to be found.

She stepped onto the pavement, the morning breeze ruffling her hair. Which way to go? She looked left and right. Well, she came from the left, so let’s continue forward. Without a single glance back, she bid Ms. Feather’s Home for At Risk Girls farewell.

During the day, the Lower Canterlot District is just as hectic as it is during the night. Cars blared their horns, belching smoke from their exhaust pipes. Vendors on the street hassled her, selling frozen treats, sandwiches, sunglasses, tiny key chains, homemade jewelry, and pirated movies in plastic sleeves. Aria stopped to buy a soggy hot dog, piled with caramelized onions and pink sauce. She ate it slowly, careful not to spill anything on her new dress. Now that she was fed and happy, she began to ponder about her future.

Aria was always a party animal. She loved the nightlife, the gritty underground scene. When she and her sisters still lived in Equestria, she would always wander off to the shore and watch as the ponies and other Sirens reveled in song and laughter. The night would always be lit up with paper lanterns and will-o-wisps, and they would be merry until Celestia’s sun came up. But after being banished to the human world, Aria’s craving for adrenaline and fun grew more intense. Humans found so many ways to have fun! Colorful drinks that tasted of fruits and sparkles, tiny pills and vials of powder, dark rooms and bright lights and sweat and blood...Aria wanted to taste it all.

That would have to wait until nighttime, though. It wasn’t even noon yet.

She began to walk. Maybe she could go on a shopping spree! No, Dew didn’t have a lot of money, and Aria knew that it wouldn’t be wise to spend it all on clothes. She drifted in and out of stores, determined to at least pretend she was on a shopping spree. She tried on new dresses, razor sharp heels, dozens of different lipsticks and eye-shadows, and permitted herself to buy just one tiny bottle of cheap perfume. It smelled musky and thick, dark and enticing. Just like me, she thought smugly to herself.

She sat in an empty cafe, sipping at a small cup of tea. While Adagio drank coffee and Sonata preferred fizzy sodas, Aria was always a tea girl. This tea was thin and bitter, though. Just like me, she thought angrily to herself. Every time her dress came into her field of view, she felt a harsh pang of guilt. It was quickly diminished when she remembered that she wasn’t doing it out of spite; she had to survive. And if that meant one little girl would lose her pretty dress, Aria was okay with it. At least she didn’t kill the girl.

Aria waited in that cafe until the sun slowly sank behind the buildings, and the sky turned from blue to pink to red. The velvet ropes would be coming out soon, as well as the people, crawling their way through the streets like termites emerging from rotting wood. The bustling sounds of work were replaced with the bustling sounds of the night owls, ready to play. Aria threw some loose change onto the table and stood up, discreetly following a crowd of girls. They had big hair, short skirts, and shiny skin. They moved with the sort of confidence that came with the knowledge of one’s beauty, grace, and power.

I remember walking like that, thought Aria, watching as they swayed towards a writhing line of people. She made her way to stand at the end of the line, watching the girls head straight to the entrance of the club, say their names, and enter. A name was clearly what she needed to get into this place. Every time the door opened, she could hear snatches of loud dance music, pounding gently. The line moved slowly, as other patrons argued with the bouncer. The gears in her mind turned non-stop, trying to figure out a way to be let in. A name, a name. She wondered if Twilight would work — probably not. Her heart began beating faster as she approached the front of the line.

“Name?” the bouncer asked, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

She swallowed hard. “T-Twilight Sparkle...the Third.”

“The Third?” His eyebrow cocked up.

“Yes. I come from a long line of...Sparkles. I’m practically royalty.” She flipped her hair to really sell it.

He glanced at the list for a second. “Not on the list. And I’ve never heard of you Sparkles before. Get out of line.” He reached out and pushed her, not ungently.

“You’ll pay for that!” she cried, stomping away. She sighed. It was never going to work anyways.

The streets were growing more and more crowded by the second. Aria decided to keep trying, stopping at every club she could find. It was the same story with each one, though: her name was not on the list.

“This sucks,” she grumbled, turning away from the door. “What happened to just letting people in?” She glared at the other party-goers, envious of their carefree lives. Why wasn’t she let into those places? She turned a corner and found herself on another street of bars and clubs — except these places didn’t have velvet ropes or bouncers. She turned to the first one she saw, and knocked on the closed door; the sign said they were open. A clang was heard, and a pair of eyes appeared through the metal slit in the door.

“Name?” they asked.

Aria thought for a second. She had been using the wrong name all this time.

“Adagio Dazzle.”

She heard a soft gasp, murmurs, the ‘hmm’s of approval. “The Adagio Dazzle?” they asked, excitement rearing in their voice.

“Is there another one?” Aria scoffed, her brittle smile about to come undone.

The eyes vanished, leaving a metallic crash floating in the air. Locks were opened and the door yawned, revealing a dark hallway.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” the person whispered. “You haven’t been before, we’re so honored!”

“It’s my pleasure,” Aria replied, suddenly feeling nauseous. This was it. This was the kind of place that Adagio would frequent, the places she told Aria to never ever visit. She walked towards the end of the hall, green light spilling onto the floor in front of her. A beaded curtain hung in the doorway, and pushing it aside created a small symphony of clinking beads.

The room looked hazy from the smoke hanging near the ceiling. People lounged about on chairs, sofas, and each other, eyes glazed and mouths split into smiles. Music was thumping through the speakers — loud, grainy, and dark. A small stage sat in the center of the room, holding a microphone in place.

“Wow,” Aria gasped to herself. This was weird, like totally weird. But she liked it, somehow. It had a calming effect on her.

“Hey there. Would you like a drink?” Someone had come up from behind her. He was a smiling, handsome young man, but his pallor looked sickly in the jade lights.

“Sure. I’m Adagio Dazzle.” Aria batted her eyelashes. This was going to be fun.

“Really? Well, welcome to our little piece of heaven. I’m Ocean Beat.” He handed her a drink and steered her towards the bar. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence.”

Aria smiled and took a sip. It was bitter, but she gradually got used to the taste. “Well, I’m a busy girl. You know, so busy these days. Nice place.”

“Yeah, I come here every week,” he replied. “So, you gonna sing for us tonight?”

Aria sputtered, her drink dribbling out of her nostrils. “Mm?” she coughed.

“Yeah, we’ve been waiting for you to sing at this club ever since you got such good reviews down at ‘Mysteria’. Will you be performing tonight?”

“Um...my...throat’s kinda sore today…”

“Aw, that’s not fair. I was really looking forwards to it, Adagio.”

“Wait, Adagio?”

“Is that Adagio Dazzle?”

“Is she singing for us? Oh my gosh, she is, isn’t she!”

Aria was surrounded by eager patrons, all hounding her with song requests and pleads. “Enough!” she snapped. “Fine, I’ll...sing. Yay.”

She was quickly ushered to the stage, and gripped the microphone hard. Her mouth was filled with sour spit, which she tried to swallow. “H-hello, my name is Adagio Dazzle and I’ll be singing for you...no music? Okay. Okay.

“Welcome to the show…
I’m here to let you know…
M-my time is now…
Your time is running out…”

Aria cringed at the sound of her voice — thin, flat, and shaking like a leaf.

The crowd exchanged looks of confusion and disappointment.

“That’s not what Adagio sounds like,” a young girl piped up. “I don’t even think that’s Adagio!”

“Imposter!”

“Get off the stage!”

The crowd went wild with ‘boos’ and insults. Aria’s cheeks caught on fire, and her hands began to tremble.

“Shut up!” she squeaked into the mic. “Shut up!”

The jeers grew louder. Their faces loomed above her, dark eyes and gaping mouths. They screamed, they laughed, their expressions twisted into monsters. They hated her. They hated her, but they loved Adagio, Adagio the leader, the main attraction, and they hated Aria, weak, scared, bad, bad, bad, useless, they’re screaming, I’m screaming…

“Enough!” she shrieked, grinding her teeth together. She felt a crackle of electricity run through her. “You want to Adagio to sing for you? Do you even know what she would have done to you?” She exhaled angrily through her nose, fighting to keep tears from falling. “You wanna know? I’ll show you!” She brought the microphone closer to her lips and hummed softly, closing her eyes. She swayed to her own melody, alternating between the different notes and repeating the same line over and over again. Her fingers trailed lazily in front of her, dancing to their own accord.

“Bitch!” A man yelled, turning to a girl next to him and punching her in the face.

She yelped, falling to her knees and cradling her stinging cheek. “Fuck you,” she snarled, leaping up at him, using her nails to gouge trenches in his cheek.

More and more people began to fight; kicks were thrown around, friends that had come together were screaming and hollering at each other, eager to hurt and maim whoever they could.

Aria didn’t notice. She just kept humming, enjoying the pleasant murmur of her voice. She inhaled deeply, a small smile on her face. Her melody sounded so...peaceful...

It was strange, hypnotizing...Just like me.

***

“Look at them fight, Sister.”

Everyone in the club had begun punching each other, as if they were being manipulated by someone. Seconds ago, they had been booing the girl on stage — now they were spilling their own blood. He moved to the side as soon as two men fell onto their table, breaking the flimsy furniture.

“Indeed, Brother. But I’m looking at someone else right now.”

The purple girl stood on stage, her arm outstretched, fingers moving lazily in the air. Tendrils of green magic twisted their way out of the audience, snaking around her fingers, up her arm, and into her throat. She was smiling, this girl. She knew what she was doing.

“How exciting,” he murmured.

“How much longer should we wait?” she asked, tilting her head towards her brother.

“Let her enjoy herself. We need to see how strong she can get.”

“Of course. I simply can’t wait to talk to her.”