• Published 11th Jun 2012
  • 8,737 Views, 573 Comments

Melodious Desideratum - Desideratium



You dread the spotlight, but when opportunity arrises, you'll make an exception . . . for her.

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Not-So-Secret Admirer

You skid to a halt outside Sugarcube Corner, spraying snow and sleet.

Framed impressively in the doorway of the shop is the imposing figure of Lyra Heartstrings, and she’s glowering at you. You cringe, lowering your head. This wasn’t the first time you’ve been tardy to an engagement that she’s expected you to attend, and you’re hoping that the incoming lecture will be brief and somewhat painless.

“Uh, hey Lyra,” you say.

“Is it too much to ask for you to wake up before noon just once?” Lyra stalks down the pink front stairs, glaring at you. You can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not, and you can’t really think of a way to play it safe, so you just remain silent. “Come on!” Lyra continues. “I mean, really! You know how Noteworthy is about sleeping, and he made it just fine!”

“Give him a break, Lyra,” says Noteworthy, appearing at the door. He’s a tall, blue stallion with light brown eyes and a pair of eighth notes as a cutie mark. And at times he’s much friendlier than your mutual friend Lyra.

“Thanks, Notes,” you mutter. You turn to look back at Lyra—snow is quickly aggregating on her turquoise coat. You light up your horn and send a pulse of warm air over her, melting off most of the white fluff. “Sorry, Lyra. I got caught up reading and I lost track of the time.”

“Did Eiffel find you? Thanks, by the way.” Lyra shakes the remaining sleet of her back.

“Yeah, he did.” You smile shamefacedly. You look longingly at the benign light coming from the bakery. “Is it too late for breakfast?”

“At one-thirty?” says Lyra, smirking.

“You know full well that I’m practically nocturnal.” You give a tentative smile. Fortunately, Lyra’s annoyance with you has passed just as fast as it came on, and she’s back to her normal, joking self. You breathe a silent sigh of relief— no degrading speech at all! “Nah, I already ate, but I could use a snack.”

Noteworthy stood aside to let you and Lyra past. A heavenly gust of hot, cupcake-scented air slams into you. The small bakery is crowded with ponies, either eating solo or in groups. Mr. Carrot Cake is roving around with a wide metal platter bearing various desirable confections. You moan happily. “I’ll take one of everything.”

“Easy, bro! I thought you just said that you’ve eaten!” says Noteworthy. “Go find a table, I’ll handle the food.”

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Lyra grabs you by the elbow and steers you away from the vast menu board hanging above the cash register, manned by Mrs. Cup Cake. She takes you to a secluded corner table with four chairs and pulls one of them out for you to sit down. Before you do, though, you magic a seat out for her in turn. You pull an exaggerated bow, waiting for her to sit. She curtsies and complies.

“Always the gentlepony, you.”

“I live to please.” You lower yourself down. Several joints pop, earning you a disgusted glance from Lyra. “Sorry.”
It is all very comfortable, but the fantasy is completed by Noteworthy, returning a few minutes later bearing a large plate of doughnuts and three coffee mugs. He places the tray in the center of the table and slides steaming beverages to you and Lyra. “Enjoy!”

Lyra uses magic to levitate a cream-filled pastry to her face. “Sweet Celestia, I love you, Noteworthy,” she says, mouth full.

Noteworthy laughs awkwardly. A red tint spreads noticeably across his muzzle, but you decide not to point it out. “Seriously, Notes, you’re a lifesaver,” you add, then take a long gulp of hot coffee. Almost as soon as you’ve put the mug back down, Mrs. Cakes is at your shoulder, topping it off with brown liquid from a massive teapot. “Thanks, Mrs. Cakes.”

“My pleasure, dearie,” Cakes says before disappearing again to go attend to the overwhelming needs of her customers.

You had just looked down to select a doughnut, when you feel a cold breeze on your face. The bakery’s door had been opened, and a hooded pony entered. It appeared to be a mare, by the shape of her build under the heavy jacket. You watch as she slowly walks up to the register, and exchanges a few quiet words with Mr. Cake. You nudge Noteworthy. “Who’s that over there?”

Noteworthy looks where you’re gesturing. His eyes narrow as he focuses on the newcomer. “I dunno, but then again...” he smiles skeptically at you. “She is wearing a hood. I may be amazing and everything, but I don’t have x-ray vision.” He takes a big bite of a glazed doughnut. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. Déjà vu, I guess. I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.”

You outwardly dismiss the mysterious pony, but you can’t seem to take your eyes off her. She finishes her business with Mrs. Cake and goes over to a table with a view of the entire room. You can see her hood shift slightly as she moves her head side to side, presumably scanning the room. Through the shadows shrouding her face, you can barely make out white fur and part of a pair of sunglasses. Sunglasses? During winter?

You’re snapped back to reality by Lyra’s voice.

“So what were you doing that was so much more important than meeting your best friends?”

“Huh?”

“Why were you late?”

“Oh. . .” You focus most of your attention on Lyra now, but leave a bit of your consciousness riveted on the mystery mare in the corner. “I was reading. A little spellwork, you know?” You lower your voice as you say this; you don’t like to spread around the fact that you’re studying magic. It would attract a little more attention than you would like.

“Anything in particular?” asks Noteworthy, a little louder than necessary. You frown at him, but don’t say anything.

“Yeah,” you mutter back. “A colour-changing spell.”

“What’s it do?”

“You’re an idiot!” Lyra laughed. “Noteworthy! A colour-changing spell! What would you think that does?”

“Heh, right.” Noteworthy didn’t seem remotely abashed by her pointing out his stupidity. On the contrary, he appeared quite pleased to have Lyra laughing at him. You raise your eyebrows at him, silently questioning his motives. He shoots you a covert look, signaling for you to drop it. You understand immediately; over the years, you and Noteworthy have gotten to know each other so well that you can practically read each other’s minds. But Noteworthy was being more secretive than usual, and you can respect that.

Movement from across the room catches your eye.

Miss Mystery Mare had stood up, her face locked on yours. You say nothing to Lyra or Noteworthy, as you are transfixed by the motion of your admirer. She has a certain bounce to her walk, her head constantly bobbing. But at the same time, she appears perfectly graceful, like a dancer. Something about it was strangely hypnotizing. She stops at your table. Lyra and Noteworthy have noticed her as well now. It was kind of hard not to, since she was more or less leaning across them to speak to you: “Can I sit down?’

You blink. “Uh . . . sure?”

A light blue glow fades out from under her hood and the remaining chair slid out for her to sit. So she’s a unicorn then. “Thanks, bro. You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for you. Word on the street is that you’re the pony I’m looking for.”

“Hold up!” says Noteworthy. “Who the hey are you?”

“Give me a minute, Notes,” she replies evenly. She turns back to you. “So, somepony told me you’re pretty musically savvy, no?”

“Who wants to know?”

The mare raises her hood a bit, enough to expose her face to the three ponies across from her. A wild mane of electric blue hair framed an intelligent smirk and a pair of massive violet-lensed sunglasses.

“’Sup, bro. I’m Vinyl Scratch.”