> The Lost Pie
>  by Crescent Cloud
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter One: Strange Beginnings
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Well, I suppose it’s about time I write this story down, if not for anypony in particular, at least for myself. My name is Pinkamina Diane Pie...or, at least that was my original name. Let me explain: I am not the actual Pinkie Pie. I’m a clone of her. 
You might have heard already about the incident that happened a while ago at the magic mirror pond. This mare named Pinkie Pie decided that one of her was simply not enough to go around for her friends, so she foolishly used the pond to clone herself. She figured being in multiple places at once to simultaneously hang out with all her friends would be the best thing ever. As you can well imagine, she learned pretty quickly that it was quite possibly the worst thing ever. Not every Pinkie Pie was quite the same. They didn’t actually know her friends and needed a crash course to remember their names. It got out of control fast. 
To get a handle on the situation, Princess Twilight Sparkle (who wasn’t a princess yet at the time) decided to weed out the fake Pinkies by forcing them to try to watch paint dry...while not getting distracted! For any pony who knows Pinkie Pie (and that’s a lot of ponies), that is a truly impossible task, even for the real Pinkie Pie, much less crazy clones of her. But, Twilight reasoned that the real one would care enough about staying with her friends to push through the grueling task. 
Obviously, it worked. All the Pinkie clones were sent back into the pond from whence they came. Well, all except one: me. I was a bit different from the rest, which were mostly extra hyperactive (if that’s possible) versions of the original. I came out a bit calmer, and it didn’t take long for me to figure out that I was a clone. While Twilight and her friends were rounding up the clones to take them to the paint task, I was off hiding - and having an existential crisis. 
They never found me. After all, they hadn’t counted on any of the clones being like me – i.e., not hopping around like a pink bunny rabbit that just ate a pound of sugar. Being more self-aware, I found it hard to cope at first with the reality of what I was, and I almost went voluntarily to Twilight herself to ask her to send me back to whatever dimension - or lack thereof - that I came from. 
However, with a little time, I was more hopeful, and perhaps it was the Pinkie Pie spirit within me, but I eventually decided to try to carry on elsewhere. I figured I couldn’t stay in Ponyville, since the original Pinkie was there and it seemed like a bit much to have two in the same town. I didn’t want to make her aware of my existence either, since I didn’t want to cause more confusion regarding who the real Pinkie was, and I didn’t want to risk being sent away to the pond. I felt an urge to live my own life in a new place. I just had to decide where to start...
> Chapter Two: Uncertain Start
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Since I wasn’t yet familiar with the lay of the land which was now my home (through the ethereal process of coming into being, I only retained the knowledge that it was called Equestria), I had to find a map to determine where I would start my new life. I wasn’t sure at first where to find one, but I happened to come across a map and stationery store not far away from the Golden Oaks Library where Twilight lived. I saw a beautiful map on display in the store window. I must have studied that map for twenty minutes straight – another task one would hardly expect of the real Pinkie Pie. But I wasn’t the real Pinkie Pie, and I would live my own life as a new pony.
But where would I go? There were so many interesting places in Equestria to move to: Canterlot, Appleloosa, Winnieapolis, Baltimare, Las Pegasus; it was overwhelming at first. I couldn’t go to Cloudsdale because I wasn’t a Pegasus, and I didn’t think the Crystal Empire seemed practical (though it was gorgeous!). Then I saw it, the place I knew I had to go: Manehattan. I can’t quite explain it – maybe rack it up to Pinkie Sense – but I knew once I spotted it on the map that I had to make my way to the big city of Manehattan. What would I do once I got there? I didn’t know, but I was confident I would figure it out.
Once the decision was made, I had to get to the only mode of transport I could think of to get me to the city: The Friendship Express. The problem is, so many ponies along the way to the train station would recognize me, and that could get really complicated really fast, so I had to use my best stealth abilities to get there undetected. Luckily, I am still Pinkie Pie in many ways, so I have some creative methods of getting through and around crowds that I retained. Y’know, things like hiding in a bush or under a rock, or wearing ingenious disguises, not to mention my astonishing ability to appear just about anywhere at any moment when the situation suits me. It must be a special earth pony thing, and I think the Pie family is especially gifted at it. 
Anyway, I made it to the train station and started looking for the schedule to see when the next trip to Manehattan would be. Sadly, I found that I would have to wait another couple of hours. I knew I certainly couldn’t just hang out at the train station that long just looking like Pinkie Pie, so I had to quickly figure out a more long-term solution to my “blending in” problem. Again, it’s a good thing I’m Pinkie Pie, because the ponies at the nearby clothing store didn’t find anything in the least unusual about me walking in and purchasing a hat, trench coat, and sunglasses. In fact, they seemed almost too un-fazed by it. I didn’t particularly care, though, because I had places to get to and a new life to live. 
After getting comfortably inconspicuous in my new clothes, I made my way into the heart of the busy train station, found a table where I likely wouldn’t be noticed, and sat there thinking for a while about my journey, and about myself. I couldn’t figure out why I was so different from the Pinkie Pie original, or the rest of the cavorting chaotic clones for that matter. Was I somehow special? 
Just then, in the thick of my musings, Twilight Sparkle herself just happened to walk close enough to pause at the peripheral glance of pink under my getup, and said, far too loudly for comfort, “Pinkie?” 
I nearly jumped to the ceiling (which, knowing Pinkie, I could probably literally do), and turned to her saying, “Oh......hey Twilight, fancy seeing you here.”
Understandably, she looked confused, and said, “Yeah, so, um...what are you doing at the train station? Are you going somewhere?”
I decided to channel my inner silliness to appear as authentically Pinkie-like as I could, “Um, maybe......but, I could ask you the same question!”
“I’m actually going back for a short visit to the Crystal Empire. It seems there’s a meeting with some dignitary ponies from Saddle Arabia that demands my presence. So...where are you going?”
“Um...” The seconds that passed between that utterance and my actual response to her felt like hours, “I’m going to the rock farm to help my family. They wrote and said they needed an extra pony to move and grind down some big rocks, and they thought I would make the job a lot easier, seeing as how I grew up there and am really good with working with rocks, y’know...” There was another pause after this, during which Twilight just looked at me, still seeming confused, that also felt unbearably long, before she finally spoke again:
“Oh, okay, I didn’t know you helped your family out with things like that sometimes. Well, have fun...I guess.” She gave me an awkward grin, and then said she had best be going since her train was coming soon for the Crystal Empire. Thank goodness, too, because I didn’t want to risk having a long interaction with her while waiting for our trains. I breathed a loud sigh of relief, and then sat back down. I honestly hadn’t remembered getting up, but I suppose I unconsciously did out of shock and worry. 
That’s when I realized that there was another difference between me and the clones: I actually remembered my friends. Well, Pinkie’s friends. Even though the real Pinkie Pie is the one who is back at home with her friends, I could remember just about everything she could, at least enough to know all about Twilight, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Applejack, not to mention Mr. and Mrs. Cake, the baby cakes, and Gummy. Then I also realized I remembered my - I mean Pinkie’s – family. Mom and Dad, Limestone, Marble, and Maud – I would never see them again. I would have to try to find my own identity, and I would have to give them up to do it. 
I was lost deeply in these thoughts when I heard the announcer at the station calling for boarding on the Manehattan train. I paused for a moment, wondering if it was worth it, if maybe it might be best if Twilight sent me back after all. But I had come this far, so I decided I would carry on and find out what I could make of myself in the city. It would be hard at first, but if I was going to do it, I had to accept the sacrifices that came with it. After all, sometimes the biggest gain comes after great loss.
> Chapter Three: Manehattan, Manehattan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, I was off on the train to the big city, the biggest in Equestria, in fact. That’s one reason I chose to go there – I figured, with that many ponies all in one place, with so many different shapes and sizes and colors hurrying around all the time, I could blend in much better. Plus, it helped that few ponies knew Pinkie there, so I wouldn’t run as high a risk of being recognized. Still, I needed to be careful not to draw too much attention, because if somepony caught on that Pinkie Pie is in two places at once and I would have been discovered. 
When I arrived, I was instantly enamored with the city. In fact, that’s putting it mildly - I was in love with it. I could feel a primal Pinkie instinct to get excited as I took in the stimulation around me. I even came close to doing a few Pinkie bunny hops. There were buildings everywhere, like a great big metal and concrete forest, and countless images, like a huge picture of Sapphire Shores on the side of a building and one of Countess Coloratura on another. And the ponies – there were ponies everywhere! I knew right away that I would love it in Manehattan.
Of course, there was a bit of a problem: even if most ponies in Manehattan didn’t know it, I looked like another pony. I decided that I would have to somehow distinguish myself physically from Pinkie Pie by getting a makeover. That led me to the realization that I had no bits. I sat down for a minute or two in disappointment, but then I remembered something about Pinkie, and on a hunch, I reached up into my mane. Sure enough, as if by magic, I pulled out a handful of bits, as well as a comb, some candy, a few empty balloons, and a picture of Gummy.
I started looking around for a salon or barbershop that could give me a manecut and a tail job to make me look like something other than the supreme frizz and chaotic puffiness that is the Pinkie signature style. I thought I might also get some accessories to further complete my new appearance. Finding a mane-cutting place was rather easy in Manehattan. When I emerged, I was a new pony, or at least I started to feel like it, and it felt fantastic!
I was now sporting a shorter, more controlled mane style, with tail to match, of course. It was not, mind you, simply flattened out like Pinkamina hair, no, it was wavier, like a pink river flowing out of my head. I loved it the moment I saw it in the mirror. You see, I didn’t have any specific instructions for the stylist pony. I just told her to give me something different, but that would work for me, trusting her to judge well in that regard. It paid off, of course, because she did a better job than I could have expected. I also picked up some sunglasses and I found a dress that I couldn’t resist. It was a lovely cerulean, and quite simple – in fact, it looked a lot like the grey dress my - I mean Pinkie’s – sister Maud wears. 
So, dressed up and newly styled, and finally less conspicuous, I set out to find my way in the city. Of course, I hadn’t thought it through completely yet, and once I realized that I would have to find a job and a place to live, it suddenly hit me how hard this might be. For just a moment, my mind turned back to the pond, and the thought that maybe I should have gone back after all. But I put that out of my mind and kept looking and thinking of what I could do. 
Then something else hit me: my cutie mark. It was still Pinkie’s same balloon trio, and I realized that I couldn’t have the same cutie mark as her. But how does a pony change a cutie mark? All my knowledge and memories of Twilight, the CMC’s, and any other incidents involving how cutie marks work told me one thing was sure: no pony can change their cutie mark. For now, not knowing what else to do, I decided to keep it covered as much as possible under my dress. Otherwise, my thought was to use makeup and body paint to create a new mark. But then, what would my new, self-chosen mark be?
> Chapter Four: In Search of Lost Ponies
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Suddenly there were too many questions bouncing around in my head, like the Pinkie clones hopping around, taking up too much room and making it almost impossible to focus. I decided to turn off the street into a nearby building, just for a few minutes to clear my head before going back outside into all the bustle. I didn’t even notice what building it was until I was inside. It turned out to be the Manehattan Museum of Equestrian History. I was just going to sit for a moment in the lobby and then go back outside, but something inexplicable kept me in there, and I decided I wanted to look at the exhibits. I gave the mare at the desk three bits – I had twenty – and I went into the body of the museum to have a look around. 
I saw some displays of famous/infamous ponies throughout the ages, like Star Swirl the Bearded, princesses Celestia and Luna, King Sombra, and Discord, though he’s not really a pony, of course. Then I saw a wing where they had a display of dragon history, or what little is known of it, as well as some models of different types of dragons. There was also a section about griffins. 
Then I came across a display that froze me in place. It was a scene from the founding of Equestria: Princess Platinum, Clover the Clever, Commander Hurricane, Private Pansy, Chancellor Puddinghead, and Smart Cookie, all six standing there, the three leaders frozen by the windigos, and the three underlings thawing the ice of their hatred with their friendship. What struck me was Chancellor Puddinghead, who looked strikingly like Pinkie Pie. I stood on my four hooves, as if welded to the floor, transfixed by the statue, thinking of how it looked so much like her. I thought, if she could so closely resemble Pinkie, yet be completely a different pony, then I must be able to claim my own identity. 
That was the first time I thought of changing my name. I think I had it in the back of my mind since Ponyville, but only now did I really ponder the idea. At that moment in the Museum of Equestrian History, I hadn’t the slightest idea what I would begin calling myself. I just knew that Chancellor Puddinghead made me want more than anything to be able to look in a mirror and see someone so similar, yet so different at the same time.
> Chapter Five: A Mare and Her Couch
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After my trance-like-state in the museum had abated, it was time to regain the streets and search for...well, I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. In fact, I had been rather careless in my entire enterprise so far, finding that I was in the big city with nowhere to go and only seventeen bits left to survive on. Mulling this over in my mind, I started to trot the Manehattan streets and continued to ponder my situation for the better part of the afternoon. I stopped at one point for some lunch at a low-key restaurant, parting with another bit, and then I made my way into the inner part of the city, including the buzzing fashion district. There were models, designers, photographers, and all sorts of glamorous and busy ponies prancing around trying to get seemingly everywhere at once. It was chaos, but a kind of stimulating, invigorating chaos. 
I decided to take in the sights here, which admittedly were gorgeous – I mean, let’s face it, it was the fashion district. I even caught glimpses of famous ponies I recognized, like Photo Finish being carried by her assistants from one giant building into another, as well as Hoity Toity talking to another fashion pony I did not recognize in the outdoor section of a fancy bistro. 
As many ponies before me and many since have likely done in the thrall of the excitement and verve of the fashion district of a city like Manehattan, I so badly neglected my own sense of position and direction that in an instant I found myself on my backside on the ground, much the same as the pony with whom I made blunt contact the instant prior. I was quick to apologize for my clumsiness, and she did the same, even more so, in fact. 
She was a smartly dressed mare, not surprising given where she was, but she immediately seemed different in some way to me than the other fashion ponies darting around in every direction around us. She wasn’t quick to speak and didn’t do so very loudly when she did. She was of a demure, even shy nature. Her coat was an off-white, her mane was short, of a two-tone blue color, and she wore a white-striped lavender collar with a scarlet tie, and a flower hair clip. Her cutie mark was a lavender floppy hat with a red feather. Her soft, gentle eyes matched her mane. She seemed from her look alone like one of the nicest ponies one could hope to run into. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry for running into you like that.” I said. 
“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I don’t think I was watching where I was going very well.”
“I guess I was just so taken in by all the craziness here that I didn’t notice you coming. Are you part of all this fashion business?”
“Oh, well, sort of...I’m an assistant to a designer who works around here. Her name is Suri Polomare. I was actually on my way to meet her over there.” She motioned with her hoof to indicate the same bistro where I had seen Hoity Toity earlier, though now he was gone. “Are you involved in fashion too, or are you just passing through?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m just passing through. Actually, I’m moving here from, uh...Winneapolis. I’ve always dreamed of living in the city, and I knew Manehattan was the place to go, so I kind of hightailed it here pretty fast...so fast, in fact, that I kind of don’t have anywhere to stay. I’m sort of trying to figure that out right now as a matter of fact.”
“Oh, that’s too bad, I wish I could help in some way.....well hey, my apartment has some room, and I’m just one little pony after all, so you could sleep on my couch with no trouble. I know this must sound odd coming from a stranger, but I would hate to think of you out in the streets in Manehattan at night with no place to stay...”
“Oh, my! That’s awfully kind of you, really. I mean...I suppose that would be...well, that would be fantastic, honestly. You really wouldn’t mind at all?”
“Oh, no, like I said, I have plenty of room, it will be perfectly fine. Here’s my address. Just buzz for me and I’ll let you in. Oh, wait! I just realized, I didn’t get your name.”
I had a slight panic. I hadn’t come up with anything yet. I needed to spit something out fast to not look suspicious. “Pi...Mina. My name is Mina...Mina P...Pearl!”
“Um, okay. Uh, are you alright there?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, just a little confused and flustered. I lived in a small town in Winneapolis, so I’m just not used to this atmosphere here in the city. It’s such a faster pace than I’m used to.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Say, that’s funny, you don’t have any hint of that Winneapolis accent.”
“Oh yeah, well, my family was kinda weird that way. I guess we were a little, um, secluded, so we didn’t get the accent or something. I always wondered about that myself.”
She let out a modest little giggle and said, “Well, it was lovely meeting you Mina Pearl. I’d better get going to Suri. She hates when I’m even a minute late, and I’m already pushing it. I’ll see you later at my place. Come to that address any time after 7:00, okay.”
“Okay. Oh wait, I just realized I didn’t get your name. Wow, we both kinda flubbed the whole greeting thing, huh?”
“Haha, yeah, I guess so, sorry. My name is Coco Pommel.”
“Oh, what a pretty name. Well, I’ll see you later, sometime after 7:00 Coco.”
“Yep, see you then. Bye.”
She smiled and pranced away to the bistro. I couldn’t believe my luck. What were the chances of running into somepony so generous? It’s times like those where one must count one’s lucky stars, as it were. I explored a little more while I still had time. I stopped and spent another bit on some dinner, and then I saw a street performer pony who was juggling bowling pins and riding a unicycle, all while singing the alphabet backwards to the tune of ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’! I couldn’t help but throw a bit into his hat. That left me with fourteen. I knew I would have to be more careful with my spending from then on, or else I would probably be broke in a few days. What I really needed was a job...
After I had explored and taken in my new surroundings for about another hour, I noticed on a big clock on one of the tall buildings that it was about 6:30. I looked for about ten minutes and finally found a place that sold some maps of the city. I bought one for another bit and found where her address was on it. I determined it was far enough away from where I currently was that I should probably start moving. On hoof, I would probably reach it in 45 minutes or so. So, I headed for Coco’s place, starting to feel pretty tired. So much had already happened in a single day, and I definitely needed some rest, whether on a couch, a bench, or, knowing me, even a rock. Tomorrow, I would start looking for a job.
> Chapter Six: Let the Hunt Begin
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning I felt a lot better. Coco had been up a half hour before me and had already prepared breakfast for us. She was so thoughtful and considerate, I almost felt bad, like I was taking advantage of her somehow. We talked for a bit, but Coco was in a hurry. Her boss, Suri, needed her bright and early every day apparently. 
“Suri is always so busy, so I’m just as busy to keep up with her. It can be tiring, but just the opportunity to work so closely with a fashion designer, it’s so exciting...at least, it’s something, I guess.”
“Hmm...sorry, but you don’t seem all that enthusiastic about it. Are you sure Suri doesn’t work you a little too hard?” 
“Oh, no, I don’t think so, Suri is just getting me used to how it works in the fashion world in Manehattan. It’s every mare and colt for themselves, y’know.”
“That seems...harsh.”
“Maybe, a little...” She seemed conflicted, her eyes turning down and to the side. Just then an alarm clock went off, and Coco abruptly stopped her train of thought and said, “Oh! That means I need to be going. It was nice chatting this morning. We’ll have to get together later for dinner, when I’m done with work. I’ll see you then, okay.”
“Okay, see you later. Thank you again, so, so much, for letting me stay here until I find a place.”
“Oh, don’t mention it. You make yourself comfortable. Bye now!”
“Bye.”
I was left in silence, except for the vague, far-sounding noises of carriages and hooves against concrete outside. Only about thirty seconds later the quiet was broken by the sound of a tea kettle whistling. Coco had forgotten that she left it on the burner. I took it off and decided to take the opportunity to make myself some tea. I took my tea and sat out on the balcony for some time. 
I found I was mesmerized by the scene outside: the fluid, almost rhythmic motion of the ponies clamoring around, going about their oh-so-important business. A dignified-looking colt hailing a carriage, an elderly mare browsing for a new hat in a window, a young, vigorous pony going to the newsstand for a paper – the city was so lively and vital. I couldn’t wait to be a part of it.
I sipped the rest of my tea, taking my time and fully relaxing, and then I decided I would go outside and get one of those newspapers so that I could start looking for a job. I slipped on my dress and shades and greeted the bright day. The air in Manehattan was more humid than in Ponyville, so the sun felt hotter. There was a bakery just a couple blocks down the street from Coco’s apartment, and I could smell the sweet scents of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, muffins, and cakes. In fact, I detected a lot of specific smells and found I could identify them all with remarkable precision. Then I remembered that the real Pinkie worked in a bakery, and it made sense. Embracing that train of thought, I made my way to the bakery and got one of the cinnamon rolls. I had just had a wonderful breakfast with Coco, but I couldn’t resist.
As I walked and munched, I started to set my mind to what kind of job I thought I could do. My mind immediately went to things Pinkie Pie could do, and the cinnamon roll in my hoof brought me first to baking. It sounded like a good idea, but I wasn’t sure if I had the aptitude for it that the real Pinkie did. I thought I should probably test it first, maybe by baking something for Coco and seeing how it turns out. With that filed away, I thought over some other options. I could try my hoof at being a salespony – I thought, I’m still a social pony, and I think I could pull that off – or I could try some performing of some kind, like being in a circus, or auditioning for plays, or I could try some kind of artistic pursuit like painting or interior design......I quickly began to get overwhelmed by all the options going through my head, and I had to stop to sit on a bench and collect my thoughts. 
As I sat there, twiddling my hooves, my pink brain awash in career prospects, I looked up and saw a poster for the bakery I was just at two minutes ago. At the bottom it mentioned that they were looking for help. My eyebrow raised, and I stared at it for a few moments. I got off the bench and went back to the bakery.
> Chapter Seven: The Wind Escaping My Balloons
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning it was Saturday, and Coco, while still needing to meet with Suri for business matters later in the day, had the good fortune to have the morning free. She was just coming down and ready to get her oats, when I met her in the kitchen, already in the middle of trying to whip something up for her for breakfast. 
“Oh, Mina, you didn’t have to...”
“Don’t mention it, it’s the least I can do for somepony who’s been so kind to me. Besides...I kinda applied for this job at a bakery yesterday, and I want to find out if I’m any good.”
“Uh, you mean you applied to a bakery without knowing if you’re good at baking?”
“Oh, well...yes, I suppose. I really don’t know what I want to do just yet. That’s kinda one of the reasons I came to the city, to find out what my purpose could be in Equestria, really find myself, you know.”
“Okay then. Well, I’m sure if you felt confident enough to apply, you couldn’t be that bad at it. Then again, have you ever baked before?” 
“Well yeah, Pink....I mean, yes, I’ve baked a little, but it’s been a while, and I don’t know if I still have it in me.”
That was when the sound of the oven timer went off.
“Ooo! The cinnamon rolls are done!”
I took out the rolls, which looked a little different than the ones at the bakery. They seemed darker.
“Here, have one.”
“Oh, um, I’m no baker, but shouldn’t they have frosting on them first?”
“Oh yeah, whoops, my mistake. Let me just put some on.”
One would think that applying frosting to cinnamon rolls would be a fairly simple task, yet with alarming flair, I managed to get the stuff nearly everywhere but the rolls, and what did get on the rolls was a spectacular mess. I was actually shocked by my clumsiness. I giggled nervously, and I could see that Coco looked nervous also. She didn’t say anything but took one of the rolls out of politeness. Her face after taking a bite spoke more than she could ever have herself: it contorted into an unmistakable grimace that suggested she had just tasted raw sewage and tried to wash it down with prune juice. She gulped down the bite with noticeable difficulty, and forced a smile, clearly wishing to spare my feelings.
“Oh, wow, not too bad. Y’know, I...” She paused, looking up at the clock rather jerkily before cutting herself off and quickly saying, “Wow, I am actually late to meet Suri. She said I should get to her early so we could go over her new clothing line ideas. But hey, thank you so much for the cinnamon roll. I’ll take this one to go, and I hope it goes well for you at the bakery. See ya!” 
She clopped out, hastily grabbing her collar, tie, and hair clip. I went to the window, just in time to see her throw the roll into the trash. It hurt a bit, but I couldn’t exactly blame her, given how I had botched them all up. Not a great first attempt, but I figured I was just rusty and needed practice. Hopefully I would pick it back up on the job at the bakery. 
-------
Feeling unsteady about my capability to hold down a job at the bakery successfully, I nonetheless marched over for my fist shift, hoping my failure that morning would be a fluke, and I would find my stride at the shop. Of course, that didn’t happen. In fact, the problems I caused in the course of a few hours at the bakery made me want to go back to Ponyville right then and jump headfirst into the mirror pond. 
I went in and donned the apron, and then set about trying to bake some cinnamon rolls, cupcakes, and muffins. I also made the unfortunate mistake of trying to make a souffle on my first day. Here’s what happened, in summary: the cinnamon rolls came out darker than the ones I made at home, and the frosting on top looked terrible, like someone tried to apply it from a distance of twenty feet away with a fire hose, while gripping the hose in the middle. My cupcakes somehow came out the exact opposite, being so underdone that they would more appropriately be called cup-mush, and the frosting on them looked somehow even worse than the cinnamon rolls. And the muffins were so tasteless that they were like cardboard. Actually, cardboard would probably be tastier than that. But the worst was the souffle, which did in fact rise – so much so, that it reached a breaking point and exploded over the entire kitchen, making a mess of Discord-esque proportions.
The boss walked in, saw the mess, and the look on her face, much like Coco’s earlier that morning, told me all I needed to know, and I walked out with my head held low. Clearly, not all of Pinkie’s talents transferred to me, and I was so upset by the massive failure of that day that I went back to Coco’s apartment right away and didn’t come back out the rest of the day. 
When Coco finally came back late, I greeted her somberly, and she responded with admirable sympathy.
“Oh Mina, I’m so sorry that happened.”
“It was a complete disaster.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. A lot of ponies don’t find their calling on the first try.”
“Yeah, I guess I should’ve figured, given how you responded to my cinnamon rolls this morning.”
“Oh, you caught on to that, huh?”
“Yeah, I could tell. Don’t worry about it, I didn’t like them either. I threw them out.”
“Well, keep trying. I certainly don’t mind if you need to stay here a little longer while you sort things out. I actually really enjoy talking to you Mina. You have a comforting way about you, and you’re so easy to get along with.”
“Aw, thanks, that means a lot. I like talking to you too. Oh! Speaking of which, how was your day? Did you and Suri get a lot done with the designs?”
“Yeah, we did. Suri is always working so hard, just the chance to get to help her is so great. She’s really helping me to break into the fashion world.”
“So, does that mean you have your own designs too?”
“Sure, I’ve been working on some designs, but I haven’t really done anything with them yet. Suri really needs help with hers, and she’s the real professional, so she needs all my attention to assist her with her designs.”
“Do you two even discuss your ideas?”
“Well, no, not exactly. I’ve thought of trying to bring up some of my ideas with her, but she’s so focused, so ambitious, I just never found the right moment.” 
“Well, at least you get to help her with her stuff, so you still get to be creative with fashion, right?”
“Oh, well, I don’t usually add anything to her ideas. I mostly provide her with other essentials, like coffee, to help her focus on her work, and I help with the sewing. I am only an assistant, after all.”
“Um...well, true, I guess, but.....well......”
“What?”
“I just don’t think it seems like she’s really helping you to break into fashion at all. It seems like she’s just furthering her own career, with you getting most of the labor done.”
“Well, of course she’s furthering her career, you can hardly blame her for that. And yes, I know I don’t really get to work on my own designs much, but this is Manehattan, and it’s hard enough getting work in the fashion world as it is. It was kind of her to even let me be her assistant.”
“Of course, of course. I certainly don’t know much about the fashion world, so I won’t presume. I guess I just wonder if she really has your future in mind, and if she intends to actually help you break out on your own someday.”
“I’m sure she does. She’s just preoccupied with her ideas at the moment and needs to concentrate on them. She has her priorities in order.”
“Okay, if you say so. You know her better than me, after all. Um...what’s wrong?”
I noticed her looking askance at me, or rather, at my hoof or my flank or something. 
“Oh, well, nothing’s wrong, per se, but I am a bit confused.”
“About what?”
“Well, I could be wrong, but didn’t you have three balloons in your cutie mark?”  
Stunned by her question, I looked down at my flank and was absolutely flabbergasted to see that one of the three balloons had vanished, almost as if it had popped.
> Chapter Eight: Powerful Waters Crush Mighty Rocks
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, I was reeling from the sudden change in my cutie mark. How could this have happened? How is this even possible? Is it because I’m a clone, and Equestria is somehow rejecting me?! What if the other two balloons disappear too, and I’m left as a blank flank – an adult blank flank? This was unheard of, unthinkable, and I simply couldn’t fathom why it was happening, or how it was happening. Twilight herself would be hard pressed to figure it out, or even Celestia for that matter. 
I was in a slight panic for most of the morning, but after a while I managed to calm down enough to compose myself. I concluded that, since I otherwise seemed fine, and could do nothing about it, I might as well keep an eye on it, but move on and keep trying to find employment and my own way, just as I had been doing up to that point. 
After Coco once again left early for Suri (even on a Sunday!) I stayed in the apartment for a while, thinking, staring out windows, and feeling more hesitant this time about venturing out into the city. I was still pretty shaken up about my baking failure and my mark. 
After about another hour, I finally resolved to go and get a newspaper to look through job listings. I picked up a paper and a cider and went back to the apartment. I saw some promising leads: a mare looking for a hairdresser for her salon, an ad for a clerk pony in a candy store – at least then I wouldn’t be making the candy – and near the end of the listings I found something particularly intriguing: a party planner was wanted for an upcoming event. Maybe if I couldn’t bake like Pinkie Pie, I could still plan a party liker her, or close. With slight uneasiness, yet renewed determination, I decided to answer the ad. 
-------
I met with the pony throwing the party two days later. It was a party for her daughter’s cuteciñera, so there were balloons, streamers, a band, and tons of food and drinks on the docket, not to mention all the guests. It sounded like tons of fun. I only wish it had turned out that way. 
I suppose you know by now where this is going. I did my best to arrange everything, trying to channel the Pinkie Pie spirit to get the job done, but tragedy struck its fatal blow. I’d offer the details, but it only pains me to relive them, and there are more pressing matters to attend to here. Suffice to say, the party was a disaster: things went missing, balls were dropped, and a poor little filly who was supposed to be celebrating her new cutie mark wound up crying because of me. 
After all that, I practically dragged myself back to the apartment, aching with embarrassment and the stings felt from another miserable failure, even more so, in fact, than the first. When I arrived, Coco nearly fell out of her seat trying to come over and hug me. She could almost smell my depressive stink before I opened the door. 
“Oh, my goodness! That’s awful, I’m so sorry.”
“No, really, it’s fine, I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
“I hope so. You look so upset.”
“Well, y’know, a little hard to come home with a smile on your face when you’ve made a filly cry.”
“Hey, I think I know what’ll cheer you up. Have you ever seen ‘Hinny of the Hills’?”
“Isn’t that a famous Bridleway musical?”
“Mhm, yep, but they released a film version, and it’s fantastic! It stars Hayburn Hoofhop and Whinny Whistler - they have the best chemistry together. It always makes me feel better after a hard day. Do you want to watch it with me? We can make a night of it, have popcorn, cider, the works!”
“How can I say no to that? Sounds great!”
“Oh, yay! I know you’ll love it!”
Coco and I settled in for a night of hills, dancing, and singing nearly as good as Countess Coloratura. I must admit, I began to feel better after a little while, but I couldn’t put off the looming feeling of dissatisfaction forever. Near the end of the movie I had to use the little filly’s room. As I was about to go back out into the living room, I thought I caught something odd in the corner of my eye before I put my dress down. I lifted it up again, and – you guessed it folks – another balloon was gone from my mark, another pop. 
I resolved that instant to compose myself and not let on to Coco that anything was wrong. I returned to the couch as if all was normal, but inside I felt like it was more than just the cutie mark that was slowly dissolving – I felt like I was whittling away, little by little. The mirror pond seemed friendlier with each passing day. The rest of the movie, especially its rousingly cheery ending, managed to smooth off the rougher edges of my mood. I went to bed that night, if not happy, at least level, able to sleep it off and see what tomorrow would bring.
> Chapter Nine: Just a Boulder's Throw Away
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up after Coco left the following morning. My head felt heavy, and my eyes refused to open for several minutes. I groggily went into the kitchen and sat with my face buried in the counter for I don’t know how long. I didn’t feel like doing much that day. In fact, my mane seemed flatter, like Pinkamina – or, whatever my version of Pinkie’s alter ego would be. 
I slowly raised my ten-kilo head and saw that the newspaper was right near it. Coco must have brought one up. I casually flipped through the pages. It was a pretty uneventful news day, and thus a theme was setting in for me. However, near the back of the paper, I noticed something interesting. It was an ad for a rock show at the same museum I had stopped in on my first day in the city. 
I just stared at it. I really didn’t feel like it, but something told me I should go to that rock show. It was one of those ineffable things, a nondescript natural force that compels one to action. I had to go, and I did go. It was starting in four hours. Maybe it was Pinkie sense, maybe it was nothing, But I would find out. If nothing else, at least I would see some rocks, and maybe that would remind me of happy memories. 

-------

I observed the rock specimens, weaving through geologist ponies and rock enthusiasts. I felt so much at home, seeing so many different rock types and ponies who cared about them. There were shimmering granite sheets, hunks of limestone, some beautiful marble, and a section of assorted crystals. Some of them had come from the crystal empire. There was even a section of special rocks located near the fossil exhibit of the museum about the relationship between fossils and rocks, and how some rocks were made up of them. 
For a little while, I got so caught up in the whole display that I forgot that I was waiting for something to happen, something that would validate my feeling that I was there for more than just rocks. After about an hour, it seemed that my sense was off, and I was almost ready to leave when I suddenly heard a voice behind me, a voice that I recognized. 
“Hey.”
Indeed, it was the curt, flat, unaffected voice that my inner Pinkie knew and loved all too well: Maud. And as I turned and saw the hues of gray fill my eyes, I momentarily forgot myself and almost hugged her out of instinct. 
“Hey, I know you.”
“Uh......you do?”
“Yes. You’re Pinkie Pie,” she trailed off for a moment as she scanned me methodically, and then added, “but you’re not Pinkie Pie.”
“Um.....”
“Are you a clone?”
My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth, my throat closed up, my eyes couldn’t have possibly opened any wider. I froze on the spot and just stared at her for several seconds. She, being Maud, simply stared back with her stony expression. 
“Um...” I knew there was no sense in trying to hide anything from her, so I admitted, “Yes, I’m a clone. How on earth did you know?”
“Maud sense. Also, you have a different hairstyle, you’re wearing a dress, and you’re too calm to be Pinkie Pie. The real Pinkie would be hopping around and saying how amazing the rocks are, and how this is the Best Rock Show EVER.”
“Um, yeah, that’s true. But still, I can’t believe you knew I was a clone of her.”
“You have her exact colors, and I’ve never seen a pony with her exact colors before. Also, I saw a part of your cutie mark when your dress got caught on the table.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that just wraps it all up in a neat little bow, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. I also heard about the incident with the clones, so I put two and two together.”
“I suppose I should have guessed. I’m just shocked to see you here.”
“At a rock show?”
I looked around me, remembered where I was, and promptly put a hoof to my forehead and laughed.
“Oh, duh. Wow, I’m really out of it right now.”
“Are you upset about something?”
“Maud sense?”
“No, you show your emotion on your face, just like Pinkie. I figured you were probably having a hard time.”
“Well, yeah, I guess I am.”
I proceeded to tell her my whole story to that point. She listened, face unchanging - unlike mine, apparently. When I was done, she blinked once, then said, “Well, it seems you’ve been pretty lucky so far.”
“Lucky?”
“Yes. You’ve had some rough spots, but you’ve made a friend who was willing to take you in on your first day in Manehattan, and you’ve made progress on becoming your own pony. I’d say that’s not too bad for a start.”
“Huh, I guess your right. Yeah, I may have had some setbacks, but I’ve gotten pretty lucky.”
“Very lucky, in fact. Most ponies in your position would have probably spent at least the first night on a bench.”
“Yeah, true....”
“What?”
“It’s my cutie mark. Like you said, it’s different, but it didn’t start that way. It was just like Pinkie’s, all three balloons.”  
“It’s changed?”  
“Yeah, it’s like the balloons are popping one by one.” 
“Strange.”
“I know, right? What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know.” She paused, and then said, “Look around.”
“What am I looking at? The rocks?”
“Exactly. Those are the only things in Equestria I know with absolute certainty. Cutie marks work in complicated ways. I hope you figure out what’s going on, though if I had to guess, it’s probably a manifestation of you becoming a unique, new pony. But again, I’m not sure.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that makes sense, and I kinda already had a suspicion...it’s just, what if it disappears, but nothing else takes its place? What if I wind up a blank flank? How can I possibly know if I’ll get my own cutie mark?”
“You don’t, just like I don’t. All you can do is keep trying to find yourself.” She paused for a second or two again, and added, “And try to have some fun in the meantime. Just think of Pinkie.” She formed the tiniest, most subtle smile, and winked. I couldn’t help but give her a big hug. 
“Hey, just promise me something, okay?” I said. Maud stared. “Pinkie and the rest don’t know about me, and I’d prefer it remained that way for now. Can you please not tell anypony about me? At least until I’m ready to tell them myself?”
Maud said nothing, only gave me a hug back. After that, Maud and I chatted a bit longer, and I gave her the address of Coco’s apartment, so we could keep in touch. It was nice having somepony I already knew to talk to. After the rock show, we parted ways, and I went back to the apartment. 
Coco was working unusually late that night, so I lounged around watching a few episodes of “Power Ponies: The Animated Series”. I was just getting caught up in the episode where Hum Drum gains superpowers when Coco came in abruptly. She was slightly disheveled, and clearly upset. 
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Sometimes the fashion world is just harder than I thought it would be.”
“Rough day?”
“Just a little bit.”
“You want to tell me about it? I’m listening.”
“It’s just...Suri loses her temper sometimes, and when she does, she can be a little hard to deal with.”
“What made her lose her temper?”
“She just didn’t get a very positive response on some dresses she showed today. She was told they could use some more work. Suri was very upset about it. After the clients left, she just couldn’t handle it and snapped at me. Now, I don’t blame her entirely. After all, fashion designers are under a lot of pressure in this city, and Suri is trying to make a name for herself. I wish she hadn’t yelled at me, but I know I just need to give her some time and space, and tomorrow it’ll be better.”
“I certainly hope so.....Coco, I know Suri must be under a lot of pressure, and I know we can all crack under it sometimes, but do you think it’s really fair of her to snap at you regardless?”
“Well, no, I guess not. I’ve been meaning to say something to her about it, but it just never seems like the right moment. But believe me, she means well, her heart is in the right place.”
“Are you sure?”
“What does that mean?”
“Just that, maybe Suri is only thinking of herself. It seems like it’s only her career she’s interested in.”
“Oh, this again. I told you, she puts her career first, yes, but she’s also helping me to learn what it’s really like in the fashion world. You have to understand, it’s a pony-eat-pony world, especially here in Manehattan. You have to look out for yourself first and others second. Suri is showing me that.”
“I’m not sure she’s right about that. 
“Well, maybe when you’ve lived a day or two in a fashion pony’s hooves, you’ll understand. Excuse me, I’m getting a headache. I’m going to bed.”
“Okay, uh, good..goodnight.”
She scrambled to go take off her collar and hair pin, hastily hanging them up on a hook, one of them missing and falling to the floor. She didn’t pick it back up. As she started to go down the hallway, I said, “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you more.” She paused and said in a near whisper, “It’s okay. See you in the morning.”  
She tramped off down the hall, her hooves clopping sporadically as she went. I sat in silence for a while, pondering the situation. I also thought of Maud’s words. In a way, I still couldn’t believe she found me, but I was glad she had. I finally slumped down on the couch, and for a long time I stared at the ceiling. That night would prove to be one of my most restless. I simply had too much on my mind.
> Chapter Ten: Coincidence Par Excellence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up at almost noon the next day. Coco was already gone, of course. I took a long time to get up. My mane seemed flatter than ever, and I could swear my pink coat took on a grayish hue, as though the juice had been sucked out of it, leaving only a dry, tapped husk. 
I spent most of the day just sitting around the apartment, wondering what my next move would be. I may have felt the Pinkie spirit slowly diminishing before, but today I felt none of it left. I was a completely different pony, but not in a good way. That cheerless day felt so long. 
Yet, despite feeling that the Pinkie spirit had quit me forever, there must have been some part of it still lingering deep within. I found that, no matter how low I had slumped, a certain section of my heavy brain could not be fully extinguished, and I simply could not resist the urge to once again venture out into the city. If I did so with no particular end in mind, at least I would go for the sake of going...of going somewhere. I suppose, in short, I felt restless. 
So, there I went, ambling around, seeing what was out there to see, not finding anything to hold my gaze or divert my attention for very long at a time. I spent a few bits getting a bite to eat. I saw a few street performers and stopped for a couple minutes to watch them. One stallion was breathing fire, another was playing guitar; normal stuff for the Manehattan streets. 
I went home early that day, and spent some time watching movies and reading in Coco’s apartment. After that day, Coco and I slowly got back to normal. She was pretty upset with me for questioning Suri and their relationship so much, and I apologized for saying anything out of turn (though I took nothing back, since I fully believed every word I said). At some point, Coco apologized for overreacting, saying she was upset and emotional that day. I said I understood, and I really did. I had felt pretty emotional myself after failing so miserably at getting a job - twice. 
I continued for a couple months trying to find suitable employment. Jobs were surprisingly hard to find, and I was sadly underqualified for most of the ones I tried to get. However, I finally found a job I could do that required no experience: giving ponies carriage rides around the city. It was menial, repetitive, and tiresome, but I started earning bits at least. I helped Coco with groceries and started paying her a small rent to stay with her - she didn’t ask much from me. I even gave her a present one day to express how much I appreciated her generosity and friendship: a sewing package with a few spools of different colored thread. One was rainbow colored.
One day, I came back from work and Coco was already there. I was confused, because I thought she was busy helping Suri with a clothing line she was showing for Fashion Week. What she said floored me. 
“The thing is...I stopped working for Suri today.”
“What?! How did that happen?”
“Well, I got all her clothes ready for the competition, and she was super confident and everything, but then this other competitor came in. Her name was Rarity...”
At the mention of Rarity’s name, my eyes widened, and I froze in place. I felt my hair stand on end, and considering who I was cloned from, it may literally have. 
“...anyway, Suri was so intent on winning, and when she saw Rarity’s line, which had this gorgeous shimmering fabric, she knew she had stiffer competition than she bargained for. You won’t believe what she did: she asked for ‘a swatch’ of Rarity’s fabric for accents, and Rarity generously gave her a whole roll of it. So, Suri just went ahead and used it all to make – well, have me make - a new line of clothes just like Rarity’s, except she showed it before Rarity, so it would look like Rarity would be copying her. I couldn’t believe her.”
“Wow, that’s pretty terrible. What happened? Did she win with her copycat clothes?”
“Nope, she didn’t win. And it was because of me! Rarity was distressed and left before the show ended, but she won! Suri lied afterward to make it seem like she had won all along, and she roped me into that lie. I went along with it for a while. But after I thought about how great Rarity and her friends treated each other, and about what you said about how Suri treats me, I finally realized that she was wrong, that you don’t need to lie and cheat to make your way in the world of fashion. It may work for some ponies, but I don’t want to do it anymore. So, I brought the first-place trophy with Rarity’s name on it to her and told her the truth.”
“Wow, Coco, I am so proud of you. It took courage to do that, really.”
“Well, you should know, I owe a lot of it to you. You started telling me the truth about Suri, and at first I didn’t want to hear it. But now, I realize there’s more and better out there for me, and I don’t need someone like Suri to get it.” 
“I just didn’t like seeing how she was hurting you. You are so talented, and you could do so much on your own as a designer.”
“Now that you mention it, Rarity actually offered me a design job!”
“No way! What is it?”
“I get to make all the costumes for her friend’s next show!”
“That is so amazing! I’m so happy for you Coco!!”
We hugged for several seconds. While I was genuinely happy for her, and wanted to savor the moment, I was also relieved that nothing came of Rarity’s visit that cast suspicion. Now, life has a peculiar sense of humor; it seems that just when you are most relieved and feeling secure, something unexpected comes up right then to throw you off. This was exemplified by the next moment, when Coco said, “Hey, I did have something else to say to you.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“Well, it’s just the funniest thing. One of Rarity’s friends, Pinkie Pie, looked just like you. She had the same colors, but a different mane style, and she even sounded like you. Isn’t that crazy?”
“Really, you don’t say? Yeah, pretty crazy. What a small world, am I right?”
“Actually, now that I think of it, can I see your cutie mark again?”
“Um, well...”
“Is everything okay Mina? You look kind of worried about something.”
“Um......”
It was in that moment that I had to make a decision: try to come up with a lie to throw her off my scent or confess everything and beg her to keep it secret. As I have come to find out since, I am a horrible liar. My face betrays my feelings every time, hence why Coco could read me so easily. But I didn’t lie then. I hesitated for a moment before spilling everything:
“Okay Coco, I was afraid you might have seen Pinkie Pie.”
“Why?”
“Well....you’re absolutely right about us looking and sounding alike. Exactly alike, in fact.”
Her expression grew more and more quizzical with each word I said.
“Are you twins or something?”
“Something like that. You see......I’m a clone of her.”
She was utterly dumbfounded. “Um...what are you talking about?”
I proceeded to tell her the entire story about the mirror pond and my breaking away from Ponyville to come to Manehattan. She was wide-eyed the entire time. After I was done, she stared at me for a few moments, apparently needing time to process the information she just received. Frankly, I couldn’t blame her. 
“So, let me get this straight, you are Pinkie Pie, in a way, but you’ve been here in Manehattan trying to find yourself, and in the process, you’ve started losing your cutie mark slowly, and have no idea if it will change or disappear, or what?”
“Yep, that’s pretty much it.”
“Wow, that’s pretty intense. And no one except the two of us knows about it?”
“Actually, my sister – I mean, Pinkie’s sister – Maud, kinda bumped into me the other day at a rock show and figured everything out in a few seconds. She’s....intuitive like that.”
“You think she’ll tell anypony?”
“No, Maud knows that there’s no need to tell anypony else, so I’m sure she won’t.”
“Well, that’s good.”
We sat in silence for a while. We both had a lot on our minds that night. Eventually, we talked about it and then chatted about other things later as the night went on. We went to bed late, and as I lied down I looked again at my incomplete cutie mark. I pondered the implications of it all, as I had done already many times before. I finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning with a restless mind.
> Chapter Eleven: Not With a Bang, But a Pop
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later, after finding myself without much to do, Coco offered to have me help her as her assistant with the costumes for the upcoming show. I was hesitant at first, but after some coaxing on her part, and a lot of practice on mine, I became a solid sewer, and even helped Coco with a few of the design concepts. After knowing how stifling it could be to never be asked for ideas, Coco was more than willing to let me be creative in some fashion, and I had a lot of fun with it. 
Yet, the problem remained that I still felt like the same confused pony, still a Pinkie clone in some ways, and a mystery pony with no name in other ways (even if I did give myself an improvised name). Coco asked me about my name later, wondering: “So wait, if you’re a clone, and technically had no name other than Pinkie Pie, does that mean you gave yourself the name Mina Pearl?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Oh, well, I think it’s a pretty name.” 
“Oh, really, you think?”
“Yeah, unless you would rather change it?”
“Hmm, I’m actually not sure.” 
I pondered that question for a long time after that, wondering if it was worth it to invent a whole new name. After many days of deliberating and questioning, I ultimately decided to stick with Mina. I did like it, and it held hints of my past identity that I didn’t want to entirely give up. 
After a few more weeks, showtime was approaching. The costumes were done, and they looked fabulous! Coco and I got tickets to the show courtesy of the director, and they were pretty good seats. The first few showings were great, though the fifth one had many problems, with the lead actress coming down with the flu, and her understudy getting a bit of stage fright that made her performance shaky at best. The lights also malfunctioned, and the third song had the curtain accidentally drop in the middle of it. The director said it was a textbook example of a perfect storm of technical disaster. 
When that particular show was over, Coco and I were talking to a few of the stage ponies, from whom I noticed the understudy was absent. I felt an immediate concern, maybe a form of Pinkie sense, and I excused myself to use the little filly’s room, a ruse to see if I could find her. The understudy’s name was Raspberry Beret. I had met her a few times before. She had talked about how excited she was to be the understudy of the great stage actress Cherry Hoofburn - the lead mare of the show - and how she dreamed of becoming a part of the Method Mares troupe. 
Turning a corner that led down a hallway backstage, I heard something, a sound I somehow knew I might hear. As I walked farther down the hall, it became more distinct, and I had no doubt: it was the sound of crying. I found her at the end of the hall, near the rear exit. It was Raspberry Beret, sobbing in the corner. I approached her and said, “Hey, Raspberry, what’s wrong?” She responded rather curtly: 
“Do you really need to ask?”
“Well, no, not really. You’re probably upset with how the play went.”
“Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it! This was my first ever chance to act in a real, big production. Any actor dreams of this kind of chance to finally shine, and what do I do? I blow it! I looked like a completely incompetent fool out there. After that, what production would want to hire me?”
“Raspberry, I know you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do! I clearly don’t have what it takes to be an actress. I can’t even go out for one performance without getting textbook, amateur stage fright.”
“Hey, now listen to me. I may not be an expert of theatre, but I know a few things from working with Coco and the stage ponies, and if there’s one thing I know about stage fright, it’s that every actor gets it, even the really experienced ones sometimes. Even Onstage told me about how he still has to do a ritual before every show to get over it. You’re not incompetent just because you got shaken up. And like you said, it was your first ever real performance in a big show. Who wouldn’t get at least a little nervous before something like that?”
“Well, I guess...”
“Well I say it’s true. I’ve seen some of the acting you’ve done, and you’re really talented.”
“But what if it doesn’t go away? What if I just can’t shake the anxiety?”
“Do you love theatre and acting?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that’s a risk you’re going to have to take. You sometimes need to fight demons to hold onto the things you love. Princess Twilight fights literal demons like Tirek, but not everyone has that luxury. Some of us have to fight the worst demon of all: ourselves. I know it seems hard, even impossible right now. You’re upset, and probably exhausted. You should at least sleep on it before you give up acting because of one bad show.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“Trust me, you have so much talent and potential, and you could go so far if you just stick to it. Will you try, at least for me?”  
“Okay, I will.” She took a moment to sniff a bit and compose herself further. “The more I think about it, I actually can’t believe I just said that.”
“Every pony says things they don’t really mean when they’re upset. It was a bad night, I know. But just go home, breathe, and sleep. Here, take this.” I pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from my mane. “This is my address, that way you can send me a message or find me if you need someone to talk to. I know we don’t know each other super well yet, but I hate to see ponies so upset, and you and I are friends, right?”
“Right.”
“Right. So, take this, and remember that you can always talk to me, okay.”
“Wow, thanks Mina. You’re really sweet, you know.”
“If I can put a smile back on somepony’s face, that makes me happy.” Immediately after I said that, she and I both noticed a sudden flash of light from under my dress, like an old camera was hidden in there. Before she could say anything, I rushed off to the restroom and looked in the mirror, raising my dress to see if what I suspected had just happened was true. 
Surely as my hide is pink, the last remnant of my cutie mark, that one solitary balloon, had vanished. And like the air escaping rapidly from a popped balloon, my spirits blew out of me, and my mane drooped flat into full Pinkamina – or, whatever my version of that would be. If ever there was a moment where I felt utterly confused and hopeless, it was that moment when I stared at my own blank flank in the mirror.
> Chapter Twelve: A Study in Pink
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the incident in the hallway and bathroom, I was, naturally, in a bit of a hurry to leave that evening. After giving Coco many hints, we left and made quick work of getting back to the apartment. Of course, Coco was a bit confused and wanted to know what the fuss was all about. I simply got into the light, said, “Look” and lifted my dress to expose my flank to her. She gasped. 
“What in Equestria happened! Did the rest of your mark vanish, just like that?!”
“Yes, exactly. I was talking to Raspberry Beret in the back hall and it just happened! A flash of light under my dress, and I immediately rushed to the bathroom to look, and sure enough, it was gone! Just popped out of existence, like the other two!” 
“Oh, wow, I can’t even...wait, what was Raspberry doing in the hall? Why were you two talking all the way back there?”
“Oh, Raspberry was kind of upset...” I told her all about Raspberry’s despondency, and how I talked her down from it. Coco simply nodded a few times, and otherwise stayed silent. She said nothing for several seconds after I stopped talking. Impatient, I said, “What? What are you thinking?”
“Well, let’s think about this. Let’s try to put this all together. Few things happen in Equestria for no reason, right?”
“Right, and?”
“And, what if you’re cutie mark disappearance is trying to tell you something? What if it’s a sign from whatever magical forces are at work in Equestria?”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
“What if those forces are trying to show you something? Or maybe they’re even working on giving you a new cutie mark.”
“I would hope so, but I don’t know if it works that way. The only ponies who might know that would be Celestia or Twilight, but I can’t go to them because they may send me back to the mirror pond.”
“Maybe, but are you so sure they would send you back?”
“Not entirely sure, but I don’t feel like taking that risk right now.”
“Fair enough, I guess. Anyway, if we assume that maybe the magic of Equestria is trying to tell you something, then what can we draw from your experiences with losing your cutie mark?”
“Well, my first two balloons went away after the two times I failed to hold down jobs. So, does that mean Equestria is telling me that I am a bad baker and party planner?”
“Maybe. Those are things Pinkie Pie is good at, right?”
“Right.”
“So, maybe that’s telling you that you’re not destined to do the same things Pinkie Pie does.”
“That much seems clear by now, yes. But surely that’s not all I’m meant to learn, if it is true that Equestria is teaching me something through my mark.”
“True, and I’m sure there’s more to take from all this. Maybe even more from your experience tonight. Raspberry was distraught, completely devastated from how badly the night went, right?” I nodded. “And you went looking for her, sensing that something was wrong, or was probably wrong. You were right, and you found her sobbing in the hallway corner, wanting to give up acting over the incident. You then expertly calmed her down and convinced her not to give up on her dream just because of one setback, however admittedly bad it was.”
“Yes, I know what happened, but how does this tell me anything new about myself? I guess I’m like Pinkie in that regard, I hate to see ponies upset or sad, and I always want to comfort them and help them to get back on their feet when they get knocked down. Any pony would do that for a good friend.”
“But not necessarily with as much compassion and skill as you did. Not many ponies could talk her down so fast. You deftly hit all the right points and reassured her of her own worth. You knew what to say to remind her she had to pick herself back up and keep going.”
“You make it sound like I did something super special? Can’t all ponies do what I did?”
“To a degree, yes. But you did it with such resolve and care, like someone who’s been comforting and advising ponies her whole life, like a counselor or...a therapist!”
“...You think I’m like a therapist?”
“Now that I think of it, you’re a natural-born one. With a little training and education on some of the finer points, I think you’d make a great therapy pony.”
“I don’t know. It feels like a bit of a long shot to me.”
“Really? I don’t think so. Let me tell you something, for all that you have been saying that you don’t really know who you are or how you fit in, I was exactly the same. I was so unsure of myself that I couldn’t even see how Suri was taking advantage of me all that time. It was you who made me finally see that. You always talked to me after those long, hard days, and comforted me. You consoled me when I needed it, but you also gave me tough love and told the truth when it was necessary. You know how to be sensitive and candid. With those kinds of talents, you can be a great therapist!”
“Wow, when you put it that way, I guess I’m starting to see your point. I just can’t help but wonder if it’s still right for me. I don’t know...maybe I just need to go for a walk and think about it.”
“Okay, whatever you need. You think it over. But I’m telling you, you have a way with ponies. You’re so easy to talk to, so inviting.”
“Thanks Coco, you’re sweet.”
“I guess I’ll turn in then. I hope your walk helps.”
“Thanks, I’m sure it will.”
> Chapter Thirteen: Kind of Pinkish-Blue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I grabbed a hat from the rack – one of Coco’s – and went for an introspective walk. I trotted along the Manehattan streets as my mind buzzed with what Coco had said. A therapist? Somehow that idea just didn’t seem to fit into my jumbled brain. In some ways it felt right, but in other ways I couldn’t fathom myself being an actual therapist pony, talking other troubled ponies through their problems, advising them on what to do about it, following up to see how they’re progressing, and everything else that comes with it. These thoughts blurred in my head after a while, so I decided to stop in at a diner I had passed by many times before. 
It was quiet, with some steady business to make it feel like it had a pulse. I passed by a couple stallions in one booth arguing about what constitutes a miracle, and then went by a little colt with a coloring book, who was oddly unattended. I was about to ask if his parents were around when one of them called out, “Zig Zag! Take your snout out of that book for two seconds and get on your hooves. We need to leave!” He galloped to them, leaving the booth open. I decided to sit there. 
I almost didn’t hear the waitress when she came over and asked what I wanted. I just ordered a coffee at first, since I didn’t have much of an appetite. I was in a trance, staring out the window for ages. Sometime later, I was aggressively startled out of my surreal state by a voice that was all-too-familiar: Rarity was sitting in the booth directly behind me.
I instinctively shrank down in my seat. I listened for a minute and found out that Rarity was there doing an interview about the opening of her new boutique, which was apparently a bit of a nightmare. I was going to try to leave at first, but I couldn’t; I wanted to hear what Rarity was saying. After she was done, all the rest of her friends – my old friends, or what felt like my old friends – told their sides of the story as well. It was wonderful to hear all their voices again. I felt like I was reliving some of my memories as Pinkie Pie. Of course, at some point during the changing of interviewees, Pinkie herself came in and sat down to provide her version of events. 
I had never been around the real Pinkie. Sure, I saw her from a bit of a distance during the cloning incident before I left Ponyville, but I never got up close to her, never spoke to her, never really heard her. Having her right behind me, sounding exactly like me, looking like me, was all a bit surreal. I listened to her recount the events, and at one point she even mentioned the cloning incident! I involuntarily looked around at this mention. I found myself exposed for a second when Pinkie scarfed down a giant stack of pancakes. I turned back quickly, unable to breathe for nervousness. I might have tried to sneak away, and a part of me really wanted to, but I was welded to the diner seat.
As I kept listening, partially for fear of being seen, partially out of pure curiosity and fascination, I finally began to understand something: this is a completely different pony than me. That was the first time I didn’t feel like a strange copy of Pinkie Pie, the fist time I really felt like me, Mina Pearl. 
I decided not to get up and draw unnecessary attention to myself, so I waited until the interviews were done and everypony had left, and then slipped away quietly. My head was still swimming as I stepped outside. I made my way back to Coco’s with Equestria spinning around me. 

-------

En route to the apartment I passed by an outdoor jazz music show. I recognized one pony in the ensemble, Octavia, on the cello. I also recognized the piece they were playing, a number called “Moon Swing” by Smokin’ Brass. It was one of my favorites, and I had often listened to it at the apartment. I sat on a bench and took in the music in the twilight for a while. For a few minutes I closed my eyes. I could hear the other ponies around chatting, the clinking of glasses, ponies walking by and sometimes stopping to hear some music for a second. 
It felt like the piece was going longer than usual, and I opened my eyes again to see the musicians. It’s funny how sometimes a song will feel longer or shorter depending on your mood and state of mind when you hear it. In that moment, it seemed like the song would go on forever, and the ponies would never leave, the kind of scene rendered by a master painter. 
After closing my eyes again, I thought hard, turning everything over in my pink head. Yet, as I tried to focus, I started to think less and to hear the music more and more. Before long, I was beginning to see the events of my life flowing before me like an elaborate banner streaming from one end to the other. It started to come so easily, and I began to form one overarching image, the big picture, as it were. For the first time I stopped worrying, in a beautiful moment where everything felt like it was coming to a stop. As it happened, that was the moment in which “Moon Swing” was ending, and as the final note sounded, there was a flash of yellow that I saw through my closed eyelids. 
When my eyes opened, no one seemed to have noticed it. They were clapping their hooves after the performance, and nothing looked amiss or different. I knew I saw that flash. I kept looking around for a minute hoping it would happen again, or that I would see some other pony looking for the same thing. After seeing nothing to indicate what it was, I was about to give up and conclude that it was just in my head. Then I froze in place, suddenly remembering what happened the last time I saw a flash. I reached my hoof down and slowly pulled up the hem of my dress. Once my flank was uncovered, I was stunned into unearthly silence. There, where my balloons had been, was a trio of vibrant yellow daffodils.
> Chapter Fourteen: Bouncing High
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” Coco yelled with her hooves to her cheeks. 
“I know, I know! I was stumped, completely clueless for several minutes. After no one seemed to have noticed, I thought to myself, I must be going crazy, but then I remembered! I remembered the night I had the other flash when the last balloon popped, so I looked down, almost afraid of what would be there, and I saw this!”
“I can’t believe it! What happened? Did something make you realize it? Did it just kind of come to you?”
“Well, in a way, I suppose so. Here’s what happened after I left...” I told her all about the diner, and the real Pinkie in the booth behind me, and the jazz number that held time still, and I found myself getting really excited as I went on. 
“Wow, right behind Pinkie, huh? That must have been surreal.”  “Exactly what I thought! But that was what really did it, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I was sitting behind her, looking at her, listening to her talk, it suddenly hit me: I am a completely different pony. This pony called Pinkie Pie is not me. It’s a little hard to explain, but finally seeing her made me feel like my own self for the first time.”
“That’s fantastic! So, you feel like your own pony, like you really are Mina Pearl, and no pony else?”
“Well, not quite. I think my cutie mark means something. You see how it’s arranged?” She considered it for a moment.
“I see how it’s three daffodils. You mean how it’s like the fact that you had three balloons?”
“Exactly. I think it means that, while I’m distinct and separate from Pinkie Pie, I also still have many parts of her in me, and I always will.”
“Hmm...okay, I see what you mean.”
“I’ve realized that the most important thing Pinkie and I share is wanting to see other ponies smile; I think we just have different strategies of going about it. She makes ponies smile by throwing parties, baking cakes and pies, and being her crazy Pinkie self. I like to make ponies smile by talking to them when they need somepony to talk to, comforting them when they need it, and giving advice and tough love. I think you were right Coco. The best times I’ve had here were talking with you, and I really liked to work with you through your problems. I like the challenge of figuring out how to make somepony happy.”
“That’s so great! Does that mean you’re going to study psychology?”
“Of course! Can’t get too far as a counselor or therapist without education and training. I’ll need to start looking at schools and see if I can get in.”
“You’ll definitely get in, I believe in you Mina!”
“Thanks Coco, and thanks for helping me figure it out.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
I smiled at her and we continued talking excitedly into the wee hours of the morning about my future, about Coco’s fashion ventures, about pretty much anything and everything until we couldn’t even see straight and nearly collapsed on the spot. As we were stumbling to our rooms, still giggling a little from the high of the evening, Coco stopped and said:
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, what?”
“Do you think you’ll ever want to meet her?”
“Meet who? Oh, you mean Pinkie Pie?”
“Yeah, you think you’ll want to meet her someday, now that you have everything figured out? I’m sure they wouldn’t actually expect you to go back in the mirror pond.”
I pondered her question for a few moments, and then I looked at her and said, “Yeah, maybe someday. Not too soon, I don’t think I’m ready to meet her head-on just yet. But yes, sometime when I’m just a bit more settled in life, I think it would be a splendid thing to meet her, to let her know that I exist, to live proudly and openly as the Pie that got away and became her own pony.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.......the Lost Pie.”
“Hm, the ‘Lost Pie’. That has a nice ring to it.”
“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?

 


 


END

> Dear Pinkie
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Pinkie,
It’s been such a busy day! The paperwork in my office is stacked almost higher than me! Not that I’m complaining, of course, I asked for this. Still, I feel like I need a vacation soon, and I was wondering if you’d want to get together and maybe take a trip to Las Pegasus or something? It feels like ages since we saw each other last. But, BUT: this time, we need to talk about your liberal use of the party cannon. After what happened at the Wonderbolts show last time, I can’t believe they still let us come back there! Anyway, send me a message via Spike and let me know if you can squeeze me into your packed schedule (though, knowing you, I can’t imagine anything is impossible). 
In other news, if you’re wondering how I’m doing – and I know you are – everything is going good, busy as I mentioned. Coco finally got a bigger place, and about time, too. No pony who designs such sensational clothing lines should be stuck in that broom closet. Then again, she and I both managed to cram ourselves in there at one point, didn’t we? My word, how long ago that was! I’ve already been at this place for quite a few moons. You know, there are times I think of moving to Ponyville, because I’d love to live closer to you. After all, like you said, we’re basically twin sisters. 
Oh, and speaking of sisters, did I mention I’m getting to see Maud soon? She’s going to be in Manehattan in a few days for a symposium on the distribution of rock sediments in the Coltacious Era and its geohistorical implications, and we’re going to have lunch and a girl’s night! Maud is always so much fun, not that I have to tell you. 
Anyway, I should be getting back to that paper work. Speaking of which, I’ve enclosed with this letter the finished manuscript for my story. I was hesitant about it at first, but I must say, you are one persuasive pony, and the publisher I spoke to seemed very interested in the idea. I guess, when I think about it, it is pretty uncommon to hear the story of a pony clone, so I guess I see where he was coming from. Let me know what you think of it. Tell Twilight, Spike, Rainbow, Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy that I say hi and that I’m missing them. I can’t wait to see you all again soon!

Sincerely, 


Mina P. Pie


P.S. I was doing some random research the other night, as I’m wont to do, and I got curious about daffodils. Did you know that, among other things, daffodils symbolize rebirth? I always figured they just meant that I was caring and sensitive, like a flower. Our cutie marks are always telling us something new, huh?