• Published 10th Apr 2013
  • 3,532 Views, 24 Comments

My Mask - An Unimpressive



Caramel lies about himself.

  • ...
5
 24
 3,532

My Face

The face other ponies see is not my face. It is a mask.

The mask sticks to my face, melding perfectly with every curve of my muzzle, every blink of my eyes. Every smile, every frown, every twitch of my ears it follows perfectly—unless what I’m doing isn’t something that I should be doing. Even my tongue and my mouth are covered by the mask, down to the vocal cords. This comes in very handy.

Because I don’t like taking the mask off. Not any more.

“So, Caramel, what are we gonna do next?” the blue-coated pegasus mare blushing and leaning against me—Wind Whistler, I think her name was—asked. It was a fall day, lingering right on the precipice of winter, and the Apple family and I had a betting pool going about when we’d finally see snow. I suspected Applejack was going to bribe Dash with some of her cider reserve to win the bet. Again. Still, it was unsportsponylike to not take part in the bet, no matter what tricks I suspected others of using.

We leisurely trotted down Stirrup Street, taking in the sights and smells of Ponyville in the fall. The growing chill in the air hadn’t discouraged all the vendors—though it was getting on to the end of the day, many of them remained at their stalls, hawking their wares in an effort to have fewer things to carry back at the end of the day. Even now, a few singled out Wind Whistler and I, calling out to us how some trinket or other would make a great gift.

To my annoyance, she turned her head in passing interest at a few.

The mask smiled and spoke up to get her away from persistent salesponies. “Hey, whatever you want. I guess we could always go check if the barn on the Acres isn’t occupied, eh?” The mask’s smile deepened as it nuzzled her.

She blushed, as both I and the mask knew she would. “Oh, Caramel, you’re so daring.” Both of us chuckled at that.

How wrong she was.

The mask said, “How can I be anything but when I’ve got the cutest filly in town swooning over me? I’ve got such charm.”

She swatted me with a wing, a playful look in her eyes. “Ugh, but I wish you weren’t so sleazy all the time.”

“Hey, if it keeps you with me, it’s gotta be worth keeping up, right?” The mask was in fine form today.

In a more sarcastic tone, I added, “I mean, I’ve gotta guard my fragile, sensitive core from the harshness of the world.”

Growing fearful that I would betray us, the mask said, “Or at least that’s what I tell all the mares to get them fluttering after me.” We brushed one of her wings, making sure to linger on one spot on the left.

“O-oh, Caramel… I swear you were secretly born a pegasus sometimes…” I had a knack for dealing with wings. Always had, always would.

As she started rambling about something inconsequential, my eyes wandered out beyond the thinning ranks of stalls toward a distant hill… but I knew I couldn’t let my gaze linger. All the same, a quick look couldn’t hurt.

Big Macintosh stood on a hill overlooking Sweet Apple Acres. The sun flared behind him, glowing red as it slid beneath the horizon. The glare made me squint, but I would have sworn on my life that he was looking right at me.

My heart skipped a beat as I froze in place, ripping free of the mask for a few moments.

“Why, Caramel, you look frightened,” the vapid mare I was pretending to care about said as she strode in front of me. “Why don’t I make your vulnerable little self all better.” She wrapped her forelegs around me in a hug, but my eyes never left Big Mac. Peripherally, I was aware of her nuzzling my neck, and I nuzzled back mechanically, not wanting to let my disguise slip.

Mac.

The reason I’d stayed in Ponyville. The reason I tortured myself working at Sweet Apple Acres, stealing glances at what I could never have. Ever since I was a colt, that red lug had been on my mind constantly, rolling around at all hours, his easy smile and calm demeanor endlessly taunting me. His lips, whispering “Mel,” his special nickname for me without end. His smile, so rare these days, as he labored behind a stoic mask of his own, pretending that we meant nothing to each other.

And then, reality would come crashing back. In this case, it arrived in the form of my eyelids slamming shut to save my eyes from Princess Celestia’s burning orb behind the object of my desires.

I swear she did these sorts of things on purpose sometimes.

“Mel? What is it?”

Even as I turned back to her to answer, I wanted to slap that stupid, worried frown off her muzzle. How dare she use that name. That sacred name. Nopony had the right to speak that name; only one pony, one very special pony, was allowed to let that name escape on even the tiniest of breaths, and although he hadn’t used it in years, I still wanted to guard it like a treasure.

In its idiocy, the mask must have told this pony-shaped distraction we wasted our time on that I liked being called Mel. Maybe it liked being called Mel. How many other perversions had I let it get away with in my indifference, in my ceaseless fantasizing?

No more.

“Don’t call me Mel,” I said, straining against the yearning of the mask to hold me back.

“M-Mel?”

“I said…” I took a breath to calm myself. “Look, I just don’t like that name, okay?” I pulled back from her, consciously separating myself from her false comfort. It wasn’t what I wanted.

“What’s wrong? Why are you acting so strange? You were just… staring into the sunset for a while.” Her ears were flattened now, but her honeyed tone whispered of genuine concern. Ah, how she deserved somepony better than I.

Better than the mask, for sure.

“Sorry, Windy,” the mask purred, eager to salvage the situation. “Just zoned out for a bit. Too busy thinking about you.”

“Oh, really?” She shielded her eyes with a foreleg and looked up at the hill, her tone full of disbelief. “Was there somepony there?”

To my delight and disappointment, Big Mac had already left the hill; the mask would have an easier time. I slipped back into it, letting a me that wasn’t me smooth-talk a mare I cared nothing for back into a good mood.

Before the mask snapped my vision back, I glanced at the Apple family house. If just one night, I could invite myself over for dinner, try to smooth things over…

But no, the mask had other plans.

The two of us left, chatting away like a couple of fools. I kept willing myself to try to make plans, to try to turn around and just speak to Big Mac, even once.

But the mask wouldn’t let me.

The longer I wear it, the harder it is to take off. Eventually, this mask will be my face.

And then nothing will be wrong.

Author's Note:

This is a little long to be flash fiction, but I still tried to say as much as I could in as few words as I could.

Comments ( 24 )

I don't usually go out of my way to read a fic before something already on my to-read list, but this was really caught my eye.

More specifically, the description caught my eye because it resonates a very somber drum inside my chest, and it caused me to go and read both this and its coupling fiction. I believe the saying that is relevant here is "No Regrets."

This was a beautifully thought-out fiction and perfectly concise, and I sincerely hope this gets featured on EQD / Fimfiction. :twilightsmile:

This piece honestly resonated with me more than The Price, due to my own personal experiences with masks. Wonderfully written and deserving of the star and thumb Vim :twilightsmile:

*hugs a Vimmy*

I won't say it resonates with me (though maybe it does) and I won't resort to the cliché line that we all wear masks (though we probably do), but I will say that this was very heartfelt and I always admire writers who can tell so much story in such a short space.

Now do Soarin' and Mac on the rebound.


:trollestia:

Poignant. I've not seen Caramel taken this way before.

Great story.
You know of course that this requires a third part that has a conclusion for this Big Mac/Caramel relationship. Either a rekindling of their love or the realization that they both killed it by hiding from each other.

2406443
It's too short to hit the featured box, but I'll be sequel posting this to EqD.

2406813
Maybe someday.

2407026
I'm sure you've seen him taken many different ways, dohohoh

This reminds me of countless conversations I've had about masks. I've gotten pretty tired of the topic. Regardless, this was still pretty nice to read -- getting to see the other side of the story, after all.

Dammit, you got me tearing up! Nice fic, it defidently brings back some bad memories, but I suppose that's the point of a sad fic.

I really liked this. Five stars and a thumbs up.

2deep4u

That last line is absolutely exquisite, well done.:pinkiesad2:

This is why I look up to you as a writer.

Hey vim, EQD says this story: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/94615/what-about-her-eyes is your sequel. I think someone derped.

2417791
Oh god damn it.

I'll see about bugging them to change it. Thanks.

*applauds slowly*

Fucking beauftiful

Well thanks alot Vimbert! Now my poor heart is in a thousand pieces! :twilightangry2:

But seriously, great and short read!

This was awesome. I needed a thoughtful story today and this fit the bill perfectly.

There were a few awkward sentences that I stumbled over. "the blue-coated pegasus mare blushing and leaning against me—Wind Whistler, I think her name was—asked." It's a bit long and could probably be altered to roll off the tongue more easily, so to speak.

And this one: The sun flared behind him, glowing red as it slid beneath the horizon also came off as awkward. It reads like a misplaced modifier until the "it." That might just be me though.

In this case, it arrived in the form of my eyelids slamming shut to save my eyes from Princess Celestia’s burning orb behind the object of my desires. Also awkward.

All of that is just nitpicky opinion stuff, though. I really liked this story. :twilightsmile:

Loved it. Poor Caramel. :raritydespair:

Grammer :moustache:
Interesting plot :moustache:
Feels :moustache::moustache:

Sigh.
I wish I could say I never felt like Caramel. But I sometimes do.

A round of applause.:pinkiehappy:

Ugh, that was a stupid comment. I mean, yeah, that's testament to your ability to wring emotions out of your audience and all, but I didn't intend to depress anyone with it. I mean, even further than they should have been after reading the two stories (which I consider two chapters, really). I just kinda, uh, weren't registering how foul it looked. I was in a mood, okay. Apologies to anyone who was affected by it in a negative way.
I guess I just didn't have the courage to first admit how dismal it might have actually been (weren't remembering even the general direction all that well) and next to go and try to fix it. I, um, also might've been half-consciously hoping you'd get all defiant (hell, even spiteful, beggars and choosers) and write an uplifting conclusion to them. I guess if I needed a ray of sunshine that badly I should've went and found some sappy romance fic with an unrealistic happily-ever-after.

So, uh, now to give a more level-headed response.
Both their perspectives felt so vivid, so real it got almost painful upon conclusion of the second one. Too real. Too believable. Okay, brain, stop trying to excuse the original comment.
The point is, or was supposed to be before I went on rambling and dumping too much stuff nobody cares about, at any rate, that it shows in excruciatingly clear-cut detail and accuracy what this shit is to those who'd never be able to understand it well enough otherwise. And for that alone I thank you. Even though my case was different enough for a number of reasons, it is so, so easy to relate, whether one wants it or not.

Anyone reading this: you really need to have read The Price first to get the effect here. That said, I think this is the better story of the two, and Caramel's emotions have a good deal of power. It may be extended flashfic, but it's no less effective for all that.

Login or register to comment