Potted Plant

by RunicTreetops

Happy to Help

Wallflower quietly strides through the crowded marketplace with practiced ease. Even in broad daylight with dozens of ponies around, not a single pair of eyes falls on her at any point. This is what she is used to. This is who she is.

With a bored expression, she approaches a familiar stall. It’s tucked away in a shady corner and doesn’t typically attract many ponies, but there’s a larger crowd than usual perusing its wares. While she isn’t a fan of crowds, Wallflower isn’t all that concerned. In fact, she was expecting this.

The stall is dedicated to art supplies. Paints, brushes, pencils, high-quality canvases, basically anything an artist could possibly want. There’s no dedicated store for these things in Ponyville, so this stall is really the only place to go. That’s largely because in a small town like this, there isn’t a whole lot of demand for these supplies most of the time.

Right now, however, that isn’t the case, as the Ponyville Art Exhibition will be taking place in just a few days. Aspiring artists from Ponyville and a few other neighboring towns will gather for the annual showcase, eager to show their greatest works off to the world. As one such artist, Wallflower is also interested in the event.

She’s gone to every single one ever since she was a filly. One piece in particular captured her imagination way back when. It was little more than a detailed depiction of the landscape outside of Ponyville, but something about it absolutely mesmerized her. That was what set her on her current path, selling art anonymously at auctions between a few odd jobs here and there.

However, despite having been to every Exhibition since that fateful day, she has never once actually submitted an art piece. Being invisible is who she is, after all. The attention that she might gain from submitting a piece that does well was always enough to scare her away from trying. This year, she intends to change that. In fact, she’s gonna go all the way. She’s not just going to put her work on display, oh no no no.

She’s going to enter the Art Off.

A silly name, sure, but an important event all the same. It’s exactly as it sounds: an art competition. Potential competitors submit their art to the Art Off for a chance to be judged and voted on by crowds. They are given little more than a brief chance to discuss their work on stage, then it’s up to the Exhibition attendees to decide what the “best” submission really is. It’s a great way to receive plenty of comments and criticism on one’s work, for better or for worse.

On top of that, entering the Art Off means forfeiting your chance at having your work on display elsewhere. If you win, you reap plenty of benefits. Media coverage, a spot in the Canterlot Art Museum, recognition among the greater art community, and a generous cash prize. If you lose, you’re left wondering what you did wrong and will likely consider never attempting showing off your passions to anyone ever again.

Or maybe that’s just Wallflower.

With a deep breath, she slides between a few ponies standing in the long line for art supplies, slowly making her way to the stall. Once she arrives, not a single pony acknowledges her cutting to the front. On top of that, nopony, not even the mare running the stall, says a word or even looks in her direction as she grabs a few paints she was needing, places the appropriate number of bits on the counter, and shuffles away.

It’s one of Wallflower’s favorite perks of being who she is.

“Hey, Wallflower!”

“Ah!”

She jumps back in surprise, immediately falling onto the grass below her.

“Oh, s-sorry! Here, let me help you up!”

Wallflower’s vision is partially obscured by the sun until a shadow blocks it out. The head shape is familiar, and the next thing she knows, there’s an open hand right in front of her face. Without really thinking, she places a hoof in said hand before feeling herself getting tugged back onto her hooves.

“Oops, you dropped some stuff.” Still processing what’s going on around her, she stands in stunned silence as Anon picks up the bottles of paint she just purchased before handing them over to her. “There you go. Sorry again, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Wallflower blinks.

“Anon?”

“That’s what they call me!”

“You’re doing the thing,” she mumbles.

“I’m doing what?”

“Bringing attention to me.”

“No I’m not!”

Anon looks around to see numerous ponies staring due to the commotion he just caused. They all look more surprised by Wallflower than him, only just now noticing her presence in the first place.

“Ah. My bad, I guess?”

“Just… don’t talk to me in public, okay?”

He tilts his head and furrows his brow as he looks back at her silently for a moment before responding.

“That’s a tough thing to ask of me.”

“How? Just ignore me like everypony else.”

“I-I really don’t want to do that.”

“Well, I do want you to do that.”

He sighs after another moment, his expression quickly going from concerned to downtrodden.

“Fine. I was busy helping Mrs. Posey anyway.” He turns around while forcing a smile. “You’re still welcome in my garden anytime, by the by.”

Without another word, Anon walks off, leaving Wallflower awkwardly standing amidst a group of ponies that absolutely know she’s there now. She can practically feel their eyes digging into the back of her head.

It doesn't take long for her to make herself scarce.

---

Wallflower smacks her lips together as she finishes off her smoothie. After putting some distance between herself and the ponies that saw Anon talking to her, it was pretty easy to fade out of the public’s perception again. She doesn’t have anything better to do today, so she went ahead and ran a few errands. At the moment, she’s resting beneath a large oak tree with her art supplies and a few groceries in plastic bags on either side of her as she sips at pineapple-banana goodness.

“I’ve got it!”

A familiar voice catches her attention. A couple dozen feet away, Anon heaves a few unmarked sacks onto his shoulders before carrying them across the dirt road beneath him and loading them into a cart. She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on.

The cart itself is nothing special, but it’s loaded with veggies of all kinds. She recognizes the spread as the usual wares of Mr. Daikon. This realization only further increases her confusion.

Mr. Daikon is a capable stallion, still very much in his prime. In fact, she can see him just across the way lounging on a wooden box and watching Anon do all of the work. It doesn't look like there’s anything wrong with him, so what gives?

She focuses on Anon, who is clearly sweating like a pig under the hot sun. It takes him quite some time to get all of those veggies loaded into the cart. It looks like nothing short of backbreaking labor, but there’s a smile spread across his face all the same.

“There you go, Mr. Daikon!”

“Thank ya for volunteerin’, Anon.”

“I’m just happy to help!”

“I can see that. Welp,” he grunts as he stands from the box. “Guess I’d better be on my way. You take care, now.”

“Will do, sir!”

With a nod and a tip of his hat, Mr. Daikon throws a saddlebag on, gears up, and starts hauling the cart away. Shifting her attention back to Anon again, Wallflower silently watches his reaction.

After giving Mr. Daikon some time to trot away, he nods to himself and walks towards the outskirts of the market. He seems to have a purpose in mind, and against her better judgment, Wallflower decides to feed her curiosity. Bags in hoof, she begins to sneakily give chase.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach his destination. Unfortunately, she’s not a fan of the destination in question. It’s the home of Miss Oldbag, an older mare that’s somewhat infamous for being extremely rude.

To Wallflower’s bewilderment, Anon doesn’t even knock on the door. Instead, he walks around the side of her house and opens an unlocked shed, disappearing for a few seconds before stepping back outside with a metal toolbox in hand. Stopping only to wipe some of the sweat from his brow, he gets to work… fixing her fence? Why in Equestria would he be doing that?

Oh, well. She has nothing better to do today than creepily watch someone from the bushes, anyway.

---

After almost an hour of aimlessly watching Ponyville’s resident human fix a fence, something else catches Wallflower’s attention. Two sets of hooves trot along the dirt road before coming to a stop just a few feet away from Anon. Immediately, Wallflower feels an eye twitch.

She knows those mares.

“Heya, Anon~!”

“Hiiiii Anon!”

“Hm?” Anon looks up from the fence to see the two mares smiling at him, causing him to smile right back. “Hello, Sweet Pea! Good day, Spice Berry!”

The two mares continue to give Anon warm smiles, but Wallflower knows better. From the bushes, she actively has to stop herself from scowling.

Those mares are Sweet Pea and Spice Berry, two girls about her age from the other side of town. The former has a grass-green coat with a light-magenta mane, while the latter has an orange coat and fiery-red mane. Both wear very expensive, carefully applied makeup, and she can smell their perfume from the bushes. Those two are the darlings of Ponyville, the apple of every lonely stallion’s eye.

But Wallflower can see right through them. From their looks to their reputations to their personalities, everything about them is fake. They play nice and give award-winning smiles to anyone foolish enough to look their way, and the next thing they know, they’re putty in their evil hooves.

But, being the nigh-invisible mare she is, there’s nopony around to listen to Wallflower. She is the only one who knows the truth. She can already tell how this conversation is about to play out, but something about the fact that it’s happening to Anon rubs her the wrong way.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Miss Oldbag asked me to fix her fence for her. I figured it wouldn’t be too hard, so here I am!”

“Uh, Anon? You know she’s more than capable of fixing it herself, right?”

“Sure, but I’m always happy to help!”

“Is that why you were helping Mr. Daikon earlier, too?”

“You saw that?” Anon sheepishly rubs the back of his head as an embarrassed grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, he seemed like he needed a helping hand. I’m heading back into the market after I’m done here, too. I volunteered to help a few stalls close for the evening.”

“Well, aren’t you a little angel?”

Sweet Pea gets closer to Anon than Wallflower is comfortable with, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a little room in your schedule for a couple of struggling mares, would you?”

“O-oh, do you need help with something?”

“Welllll~” Spice Berry circles around Anon while Sweet Pea stays close to him. It might seem endearing to most, but it reminds Wallflower of a shark circling its prey. “We really really really wanted to enter the Art Off at this year’s Ponyville Art Exhibition, but–”

“But our grandma came down with a really rare disease!” Sweet Pea looks up at him with big, pleading eyes. “We sent her all of the spare bits we had, and now we can’t afford any art supplies!”

“It’s truly terrible,” Spice Berry adds as she continues circling him. “And we were hoping to donate the prize money to Ponyville Elementary!”

“Uh… need me to lend you a few bits?”

“Well, we don’t want to seem uncouth, but…”

“No, that’s totally fine!”

Anon continues to grin as he reaches into his back pocket, producing a sizable wallet.

“Would fifty bits cover it?”

“Y-yes, absolutely!” Without skipping a beat, Sweet Pea snatches the bits from his hands. “Thank you so so so much, Anon! We promise to pay you back as soon as we can!”

“Hehe, there’s no need to worry about that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! It’s for a good cause, right?”

“Oh, Mr. Anon, you are a saint!”

Sweet Pea swiftly hops up onto her back hooves and places a quick peck on Anon’s cheek, leaving a magenta-colored lipstick stain that’s difficult to miss.

“Thank you so much!”

“But we need to get going! The art stall is closing soon!”

“Goodbye, ladies.”

“Goodbye, Anon!” they enthusiastically cheer in unison as they trot away.

Anon chuckles to himself as he turns back to the fence, the smile on his face never fading. Wallflower sits in quiet frustration for several moments, eventually sighing when she catches herself literally shaking with anger. After taking a few seconds to compose herself, she stands up and steps out of the bushes. Anon has his back to her, but he turns around before she raises her voice.

“Hello, W–” Anon cuts himself off mid-sentence before turning around.

“It’s alright,” she mumbles. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“A far cry from the last time we talked,” he lightheartedly laughs. “What’s going on?”

“Er…” Suddenly, she realizes that she doesn't really know how to broach this topic. “Do, uh… do you know those two mares?”

“Hm? Oh, you mean Sweet Pea and Spice Berry?”

“Yeah, them.”

“Sort of,” he ruminates as he continues working on the fence. “They live a few doors down from me. We haven’t spoken too much, but they seem nice.”

“Yeah, that’s what everypony thinks.”

“Hm?”

Wallflower takes a deep breath before continuing.

“You’re being taken advantage of.”

“What?”

“Ponies are taking advantage of your kindness. Trust me, they have absolutely no intention of giving you those bits back.”

“So?”

“‘So?!’” Wallflower recoils, not expecting that response from him. “What do you mean, ‘so?!’”

“I mean, so what? If their grandma needed the money, she needed the money. We’ve all been down on our luck before.”

“Anon, their grandma isn’t sick!”

“And how do you know that?”

“I…” She trails off for a moment before shaking her head and continuing. “I know that they’re liars. It’s basically all they’re good at. They manipulate ponies into giving them what they want.”

“And how do you know they’re lying now?”

“I-I just do, okay?!” Wallflower stomps a hoof in agitation, catching Anon off guard. She looks like she’s about to say something else before turning her head. “Whatever. Get scammed. See if I care.”

“Wallflower.” Anon finally turns away from the fence, fully facing her with a flat expression. “Even if they are lying, I don’t feel bad about helping them.”

“Excuse me?”

“If giving them fifty bits makes them happy, I’ll give them fifty bits. Just as I’ll fix this fence for Miss Oldbag, or load veggies onto a cart for Mr. Daikon. I just like helping others.”

“All of those ponies are using you. Every single one of them.”

“Maybe so. And yet…” Anon turns back towards the fence, facing away from Wallflower. She can no longer read his expression, but she catches a minor change in his tone. It’s slight, almost completely imperceptible, but it’s there. “I’ll do what they ask. And I’ll do it all with a smile.”

“...Why?” Her voice is almost a whisper, but she’s not quite sure why that is.

“That’s my business.” His voice is firm, but just as quiet as her own. After hesitating for a moment, he starts digging through the toolbox once more. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’ve only got so much daylight left to get this done.”

“Fine.”

Wallflower turns around once more, making sure to grab her bags along the way. Before she can properly leave, however, Anon interrupts one more time.

“You’re still welcome in my garden, by the way.” She freezes, but does not respond. “You don’t need to worry about attracting too much attention there, either.”

“...I’ll think about it.”

Without another word, Wallflower walks away.

Comments

[Postwarmonkey50]

Wow, it seems Anon is slowly bonding with Wallflower.

[Ralanost]

Anon has a savior complex? Or were ponies scared and distrustful of him before he started being the town 'slave', doing work nopony else wants to do just so they aren't scared of him or treat him like crap? I wonder how dark this will go.

[Venerable Ro]

Ai, as a reclusive introvert myself I can definitely empathize with Wallflower over someone coming up in the middle of a busy street and talking at me.

Eesh, like nails on a chalkboard.