First Party

by ObabScribbler

I’m never going to tell them

“Why would you want to put yourself through something like that?”

I stare fixedly at my dinner. I’m used to hearing that line and others like them. Like a robot, I raise a forkful of mashed potatoes to my mouth, insert, chew, swallow, lower the utensil for more; over and over, until only a small mound of white blobby food remains on my plate.

“I mean, life is difficult enough already. Why add to it?”

“Attention, probably. It usually is with ponies like that.”

The last mound is full of lumps. One slides off and plops into the gravy I have pushed to one side. I hate gravy. Yet every time we have this meal, my mother ladles it over my food. I push my plate away and set the fork on the side, the way polite little ponies indicate they have finished eating.

“May I please be excused?”

My parents blink at me. My request has interrupted their conversation. I think they might have forgotten I’m even here. My mother’s eyes flick to my plate and her lips purse at the food I’ve left, but she nods anyway. Gratefully, I get down from my chair, tuck it under the table and carry my plate, glass and cutlery to the kitchen. They go back to their conversation before I’ve even left the room.

“I mean really. What did he expect would happen? I really do reckon he’s just doing it for attention. Career slump and all that. He’s not getting as much work as he used to and now, he’s all anyone can talk about.”

“His poor wife. She’s the one I feel sorriest for in all this –”

The rest is cut off by the slosh of water in the sink as I rinse my plate and set it on the draining board. I make my way upstairs, trying not to hear anything more from their conversation, but a few snippets slip through.

“… the betrayal …”

“… think you know a pony …”

“… why would you choose to be-”

I smother the last one with my bedroom door but it’s no use; I know what the rest of that question is. For a moment I stare at the door, all four hooves jittering against the floor. I was raised to be polite. I have never once bucked anything in my life but right now I want nothing more than to buck that door off its hinges. I want to run back downstairs and yell: Because it’s not a choice! Nopony chooses to be different! Nopony chooses to make themselves a target! Nopony wants to NOT fit in! Nopony chooses to be a freak! Why would anyone choose that? It’s not a choice! It’s just the way they are!

The strength goes out of my limbs. I’m lying to myself. That’s not what I want to say to them. I allow my head to dip and the truth to breathe.

It’s just the way I am.

I’m never going to tell them.

I flop onto my bed, spend a few moments staring at the perfect white cornices of the ceiling and then roll onto my front. I bury my head in my pillow, biting down on words I’ll never say out loud, even muffled and by myself. When I was a little filly, I once cheeked my mother when I thought she couldn’t hear and the results were … explosive. I never want to see that side of her again. Her angry face from back then swims into my thoughts, alongside other scraps of memory.

“Stupid girl! You stupid, stupid girl! Don’t you dare talk to me that way or I’ll –”

My face gets hot but I don’t ease up from the pillow. Vaguely, a part of my brain wonders whether it’s possible to suffocate like this.

That particular thought path is a dangerous one. I’ve travelled down that one before. I don’t want to go back there.

I raise my face with a gasp, roll off the bed and reflexively un-enchant the shoebox under it. When enchanted, it is invisible to everypony who does not already know it is there and impenetrable even to those who do. Only my magic can bring it out, open the lid and look at its contents. It’s a spell I learned at school and one which my parents never learned.

School. They were so proud when I got into Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. It was something worth bragging about after the shame of my sister flunking out of Trottingham University. I was happy too. I got so much attention when I passed the entrance exam; my parents lavished me with days out to museums, art galleries, orchestra symphonies, plus lots of social occasions at which they would introduce me to ponies from work they hoped to impress. Their little magical prodigy was their proudest possession and they showed me off like I was carved from pure gold.

At least until I actually started at the school and realised I’d gone from being the smartest kid in my class to just one in a sea of smart kids, some of whom were much, much smarter than I was. I threw myself into my studies, determined to keep making them proud of me. Yet my gold began to feel like a veneer and I had to study harder and harder, longer and longer, just to feel like I was worthy of their pride compared with the other fillies and colts in my class. My life telescoped to nothing but work, work, work; yet no matter what I did, their smiles dimmed when they saw my report cards and asked what rank I had taken this time. I was never first in my class, always second, and that fact crushed down on my time until there was no more room for museums, art galleries or symphonies, just studying and fighting to take back my place at the top and make them proud of me again. I had value, damn it! I would make them see I had value!

Except I never did take the top spot every again. We graduate soon and I’m not any closer than I was years ago with that first report card. And now I have fresh shames to add to that old one.

That shame spears through me like icicles dropping off a frozen roof as I look into the enchanted shoebox. Clippings from magazines should not inspire such feelings but these do. I brush a hoof across one wonderful, beautiful curve of a model to whom this photoshoot probably meant less than nothing. To me, however, this little shoe box is a treasure trove of discoveries about myself and hidden embarrassments at the truths the rest of the world can never know.

Never?

No, never.

My parents would …

I drop the clippings; throw them down, more accurately. My magic instead lifts the invitations, receipts and other detritus that represent months and months of meticulous planning. Order forms for space rental, music, catering, helium balloons, streamers, confetti and a million other things you don’t think about when you decide to throw a party. Ponies throw parties all the time. Throwing parties is easy, right?

Wrong.

This is my first and I am determined that it be perfect. Everything has to be perfect. Nothing less is acceptable.

Finally, I levitate out the most precious item in the box: a photo, posed years ago at the very start of my journey of discovery about myself. My very private journey. We all look so happy in it; snapped at random when none of us were posing or knew the camera was there. Spike’s thumb-claw is just visible in the corner, indicating he was the one behind it. I should thank him. I love this photo.

I’m never going to tell them.

But I might … I could … I think I want to tell … her.

This is stupid. We’re not going to be in school together anymore after graduation. We barely speak as it is. She’s always so busy with her private lessons. I probably mean nothing to her. She’s off with all those high-flying ponies at the castle now. No more room in her life for her old friends. We’ve all been drifting apart since Celestia chose her – over me, a traitorous voice in my brain whispers. I’m just as good, just as smart, just as dedicated, why wasn’t it me? Why was I left behind? Why don’t I have the same value? What’s wrong with me? Is it because I don’t fit in? Because I’m different? Because I’m wrong? Because I’m a freak? Because I’m a sick twisted deviant –

I bite down on my bottom lip. The pain jolts me from the self-destructive thoughts before they can properly take root.

But wasn’t that my thinking when I first started planning this party? To bring us all back together again, once more time, to spark up the old friendship we let wane with time and distance? The others said it was a good idea. They promised they’d make room in their schedules to come and that they’d remind her to attend as well. Friendships are hard to maintain when you don’t see each other every day. That’s what the books say. You have to make more of an effort when convenience isn’t just given to you by your circumstances.

My circumstances have reduced down to living at home with my parents, searching for a job for after graduation and trying not to let depression swallow me up like a giant mouth full of sharp, bright, knife-like teeth. I didn’t make enough connections at school. I don’t have the avenues other ponies do. My studies haven’t served me half as well as them. So I need to try harder, study harder, give myself new skills that I can use to get work and get out of this place.

Because if I have to sit through one more dinner listening to my parents and not being able to speak out in case they realise …

I wince and carefully replace the photo of all of us around a table, put the lid back on the shoebox and cast the enchantment again before sliding it under my bed. I might not be so painstaking, if not for my mother’s habit of coming into my room when I’m not around and poking through my things under the pretence of cleaning. We have an earth pony who comes to clean twice a week. My mother has never picked up a duster in her life. Yet when I was in my second year at Celestia’s School I came home to find her sitting at the dining room table, waiting for me, a book in front of her turned so I would see the title when I walked in.

“We don’t read filth like this in my house. What? Well I don’t care if it was for a school assignment! I will speak with your teacher about the appropriateness of the texts he chooses for his class, if that’s the case. It’s utter nonsense that children should be exposed to such deviant values as if they’re at all acceptable. What could Princess Celestia be thinking, employing someone like that? I shall contact the school immediately.”

I used to like Mr Purview. He took time off from work after my mother’s strongly worded letter. He’s back now but he doesn’t smile as much anymore and he doesn’t run any extra-curricular clubs anymore. I recognise what it’s like to see the joy drain from a pony after tangling with my mother. It’s how my sister looked the last time I saw her, dragging her pre-packed suitcase down to the cab waiting under a street light the night she left for the last time.

She lives in a cottage on the far side of Canterlot now. I need to go see her sometime. In secret, of course. My parents would be horrified to know I’m still speaking to her.

They would be horrified at a lot of the secrets I keep from them.

Sometimes, in my darkest moments, I think my mother suspects. When she looks at me with her perfectly plucked eyebrow raised in the way that makes me feel like I must have toilet paper stuck to my hoof or lettuce in my teeth, a fleeting panic grips me that she knows and is about to confront me with it. Images of my bags, already packed and out on the sidewalk, suffuse my brain, until I remember that she would never make such a public scene. Ponies remember the way they used to parade around their golden child. No, they’d sneak me and my tarnish out of their house before kicking me out of their lives.

I wish I was at school. At school, everything makes sense. If you follow the rules and get good grades, everything else falls into place. It’s outside school that the real problems lurk; when you realise that watching other ponies as they walk past, tails swaying, might mean more than you want it to. The social strata of most high schools doesn’t exist at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. But outside school …

Outside school you have to know ponies. You have to have connections. Your face has to fit. You have to fit. You have to be normal for ponies to accept you. Outside school, it doesn’t matter that you used to be the second-most intelligent pony of your entire cohort. It doesn’t matter that you’re going to give the graduation speech (because she doesn’t have time, too busy with Celestia’s special classes too busy being special and valued and loved for being exactly who she is). It doesn’t matter that you know more about magical theory than anypony else in Equestria – barring only two other ponies, one of whom is the princess. Ponies have to think you’re like them for you to get anywhere outside of school.

Maybe it’s different in cities other than Canterlot …

I’m never going to tell them the truth. Not my truth. Not the preciously guarded secret it took me so long to even put into words about myself. I’m never going to tell them.

But this party … maybe there, I can tell someone. I’ve only ever truly trusted one pony, after all. She would understand – or at the very least she wouldn’t out me to my parents and get me thrown onto the street. She has connections and she cares about me. She’s not great at showing it but the others assure me she still cares. Maybe she can help me find a safe way out from under them. Maybe she can help me find a way to live my truth. Maybe in secret but maybe … just maybe … I could live my truth openly, for everypony to see. Wouldn’t that be something? To not be afraid all the time? To know that ponies know and to not care? To not have them sneer at you like some kind of sick freak, like you don’t belong, like you’re not normal.

Maybe.

Or maybe she’ll just listen and that’ll be enough. Maybe I could go on keeping it a secret from everyone if just one other pony knows and … accepts me anyway.

The hope is a small flame but it burns in my chest as I look at the calendar and count down the days. Only three more. Three more days to the party. Three more days until all of us are back together again. I know she’s busy, but she wouldn’t let me down. She’ll come. I need her to be there. I need … her.

Three more days.

I can survive until then.

Comments

[applejackofalltrades]

Oh dammit this one hurt to read. It hurts even more knowing that Twilight didn’t show up. Great writing, it flows nicely and is packed with emotions and easy to read. Glad I decided to randomly go on FimFiction instead of work on my school assignment!

[StoryWeaverKP]

Amazing job, Scribbler!!!

[Level Dasher]

Oof. This one really shoots that pang through your heart. The [Tragedy] tag being there but it not happening here... and the implications it gives based on her last line and what we know happens... ouch, it hurts.
Great job.

[thedarkprep]

Amazing. I love this take on Moondancer. Thank you for sharing this work with us. <3

[ColonelBSacquet]

"All your pony are belong to us"

What? Nuuuuuuh!!! My ponies are mine!

[Jman14102]

At least until I actually started at the school and realised I’d gone from being the smartest kid in my class to just one in a sea of smart kids, some of whom were much, much smarter than I was. I threw myself into my studies, determined to keep making them proud of me. Yet my gold began to feel like a veneer and I had to study harder and harder, longer and longer, just to feel like I was worthy of their pride compared with the other fillies and colts in my class. My life telescoped to nothing but work, work, work; yet no matter what I did, their smiles dimmed when they saw my report cards and asked what rank I had taken this time. I was never first in my class, always second, and that fact crushed down on my time until there was no more room for museums, art galleries or symphonies, just studying and fighting to take back my place at the top and make them proud of me again. I had value, damn it! I would make them see I had value!

Oof. I feel this. I feel this hard. This was my entire existence once I got into high school.

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

Oh geez, this gives a very heartbreaking view on Moondancer. As to the parents, If there was any justice in the world, they would be the ones out on the streets being reviled and sneered at. Ponies and by extension, people like them shouldn't be allowed to become parents. Part of the definition of being a parent is loving your child, not just when it's convenient or when it can benefit you in some way.

I would not be ONE bit surprised that even IF Moondancer had become Celestia's pupil, it wouldn't have been good enough for them. Not unless she bowed to their demands that she use her status to get them things like private audiences with the Princess or a full suite of private rooms in the castle. (Celestia of course would soon find out about that) and you know what...as far as the parents are concerned, I'd just LOVE to see them try something whilst their child is under her protection.

@Scribbler: If this story is even remotely based on real-life for you or someone you know, I am so incredibly sorry that such a lovely person as yourself has to put up with selfish cruel bigots. It's bad enough that they exist at all, but for it to be one's very own parents is beyond words.

[Jrog1989]

The story was very well done, Scribbler. I really liked the take on Moondancer. I would most definitely like to see a sequel to this story.

[Scampy]

As a lesbian who grew up in the southern US, stuck with an abusive family and surrounded by hateful boomers, this story was painfully familiar to me. In a selfish sort of way, it's nice to know I'm not the only one it was this bad for. Like I mean of course I know it was never just me, but reading stories like this helps me to really believe that, I guess? Like a lot of times people tell me about what it's like growing up as an LGBTQ+ person in other parts of the country, namely the PNW, and I get so envious I want to scream, and I know that's not fair to them cuz their lives still had the same hardships and even different ones, just... I dunno man. People who live outside the south really underestimate how bad it is down there. Or maybe I underestimate how bad it is elsewhere too, idk. Anyway, angst-ranting aside, thank you for writing this hon 🙏🙏🙏

On another note, Moondancer really is the Wallflower of MLP (or I suppose it's the other way around). I should read more stuff with her.

[PacifistDoodl3r]

This story, for me, felt... cathartic to read. Happy pride month.

[The Sleepless Beholder]

10867622

Moondancer really is the Wallflower of MLP

They're Sweater Sisters

[Boltstrike58]

I want to run back downstairs and yell: Because it’s not a choice! Nopony chooses to be different! Nopony chooses to make themselves a target! Nopony wants to NOT fit in! Nopony chooses to be a freak! Why would anyone choose that? It’s not a choice! It’s just the way they are!

You tell 'em, Moondancer.

[fanreader999999]

Mmm

[zwaph]

Happy pride month.

[TheAlienBrony22]

Considering I have a little sister who's feeling a lot of stuff like this, it hurts, but I do feel a lot with this story. This hurt to read, it hurt more to continue, but I really hope there's a sequel to this, I want a happy ending (even I know that might not happen. Not the sequel... the Happy Ending).

[resonance]

You know it's a good story when it resonated with so many folks

[iAmSiNnEr]

Gah. Why did I choose to read fimfic at 3am?

[AHeater]

10867622
Eh, at least around where I live it wasn't that big of a deal. Live in Tennessee and am in my mid-20's now, but there wasn't much bigotry except for like one person in our high school who had a hard-on for the gay kid (my friend). We asked him why he kept bothering us after a few months, since we didn't want to talk to him and he clearly didn't want to talk to us, and I think that got through to him because he left us alone after that.

Other than that, basically nothing. My friend and I graduated and are working factory jobs, so I feel like a lot of the animosity against homosexuality died down since it ended up being not a big deal after all.

[AHeater]

I really feel like the mother has some serious fundamental issues. She has problems with EVERYTHING, just nitpicking anything that isn't absolutely perfect with other ponies yet ignoring the fact that she herself is an absolute cunt. Moondancer isn't doing herself any favours by trying to appeal to that degenerate, that's for sure.

[MixMassBasher]

Pride Month aside.

This story is stellar in portraying the tradgedy of Moondancer here leading to the events of Amending Fences.

It also begs the question. Did Moondancer get kicked out of her home like her sister by Alamein Fences?

[Xanderfox]

A really sad story here, finding acceptance is painful and some of us sadly never find it where you want it most(like family). It's bitter sweet that we know Moondancer survives the disappointment and pain she suffers, but she still goes though it. Is was made clear the the show she was close with her sister so I can only guess she was the one who helped Moony get out of thier parent's house? I think it might be worth exploring what happened between this an amending fences, to see how she coped with that pain, as well as seeing her after she reconnected with Twilight and her friends. Sure Twilight wasn't exactly what she hoped, but they reconciled and I'd like to think she was able to tell her friends then found the right mare in the end. And perhaps along with the rest reconnected with Lyra. While still tragic she never discovered in school, learning her of her friends understands what she went though would be helpful (Let's not kid ourselves Lyra and Bon Bon are a couple).
Also Celestia haveing no issues with some of her little ponies being gay, yes she's way too old and seen way too much to buy the fallacy that not being the norm has any moral bearings. "Normal" is just most common, nothing else.

[Herald of Opera]

I've said before that Moondancer being in lesbians with Twilight is the only way for Amending Fences to make any kind of sense. While I personally prefer Equestria as A Better World (Lofty and Holiday get cited), this is still a story that somebody had to write at some point.

[Ice Star]

I felt like a read a much longer story, especially with the insight it gave into Equestria's imperfections. The way that even Karen ponies and bigots can still manage to sink their teeth into the school of the friggin' princess is handled very realistically. This is an excellent example of how you can have a character portrayed as LGBT+ without ever directly saying exactly that. I would really love to see a sequel about Moondancer and her family, especially her sister. Maybe after Amending Fences she doesn't tell Twilight. Maybe Twilight already knows, and that's a different story entirely. But Moondancer does have a big sister who appears to love her very much. If anypony could make a good contrast between the shame and torment her family has inflicted on her, I think that mare might be it.

10869969
After watching the episode and reflecting on it for a while, I did feel that this was one of the strongest interpretations of Moondancer possible. The only other one I've found that really makes just as much sense, or at least appears to be more obviously canon, is that Moondancer suffers from some kind of mental illness. Possibly something related to interpersonal relationships and rejection-sensitive dysphoria. Or, y'know, both.

10869023 Your friend sounds more like a lucky case instead of anything else. I live up in the New England states, in a reasonably big city, and I still grew up exposed to and taught all kinds of anti-LGBT things. Most of my family won't even give me the time of day or talk to me now that I'm out, and I've been out for years. Up here, we were all taught (and in a mostly joking way, mind you) that anti-LGBT sentiments and violence were mostly rampant in the Deep South and sorta-mostly-kinda only there, but it clearly wasn't the case and it still isn't. Your friend probably wasn't the only kid in school who wasn't heterosexual or cisgender, I'd bet money on it. He likely was the only one who was strong enough to come out, and it is still fairly uncommon to come out as anything under eighteen. In a way, it makes you one of the lucky ones compared to folks when it hits them in their thirties what has been wrong their whole life. 10867622 is right about places like the Pacific Northwest being almost entirely unbelievable in their generally accepting, healthy attitudes to LGBT+ people. When I hear about people from supportive families anywhere, I'm still stunned by that, and all the representation kids and teens are getting in media today.

[AHeater]

10870121
I think it's because he handled it better than most. He did get casual flak for it, but nothing that really impacted his life. Hard to say for sure, I think he just had his own boundaries that he setup with anyone he interacted with. So long as you didn't pass that, he got along with you as well as anyone, so I think it mostly came down to how well he handled it. You're probably right that he was lucky, but it was just what I observed.

Sorry you had a rough time, I hear that it's more common than what I have seen, I guess sometimes life just isn't fair.

[Ice Star]

10870143
If he had a supportive family, as you seem to be implying, a friend circle that was as accepting as y'all were, I imagine that's why he did pretty well. I just wish more people could be like that.

[AHeater]

10870151
People's tolerance of homosexuality is certainly much more common now than it used to be, so that's a good sign in my book. He had supportive friends that he found, that's for sure. His family was kind of a hit-or-miss, but his mom accepted him and the rest at least tolerated him. Whatever the case, he made his own life, and am honestly pretty proud of him. Most people, even normal ones, can't even hold down a job reliably around here lol

[Ice Star]

10870157

People's tolerance of homosexuality is certainly much more common now than it used to be, so that's a good sign in my book.

Hopefully, it stays that way too. Pride-related media doesn't get a kind reception by the larger public, and Fimfic does have a lot of folks who bombard LGBT-related stories they don't want to see with downvotes, but the comment sections generally always put a smile on my face with how sincere and supportive they are.

[Sir Starshine]

10869025
And yet, that's still her mother. And no matter what they may be like, it can be hard as hell for most kids to show any kind of disrespect or argument towards their parents, because you still love them, and you would do anything to know they love you and are proud of you.

[AHeater]

10870159
I'm not usually a fan of it because most authors try to force human controversy into the MLP universe, so I can understand why people don't like a lot of the LGBT-like stories on fimfic. This one seems more akin to family issues, which is more universal. Her being gay is just one of many disappointments for her mother, and her attempt to reach out and get better is going to be squashed because the pony she cares for is gonna be... well... late to the party.

[Hamburgertime]

Sweet baby, I just want to give her the biggest hug in the world.

[MorningRose]

Great story but I would love to see what happens next

[Eskerata]

I live in central Florida, so I'm surrounded by Baptists, who actively despise gays. There are LGBT supporters, of course, so not everyone is a dingbat about alternate lifestyles. Moondancer's observations about needing to fit in Normal Society definitely resonates with me.
This story deserves all the fame it's getting. Well done!

[crsh11]

I sorta blame Christianity on this one, some of them believe being gay or Lesbian is a sin or whatever. But they say God is loving and accepting. But again say being Gay is a sin. Like make up your mind.

[060411]

A good works works,thank you!
Your works is very well,I think many people may need it.So please allow me to carry your works to the Fimtale

[PresentPerfect]

At least until I actually started at the school and realised I’d gone from being the smartest kid in my class to just one in a sea of smart kids, some of whom were much, much smarter than I was.

It me. :B