Hello? Is Anyone There?
Wallflower Blush sat in front of the library and leaned her head against the hoof of one of the stone horses that bracketed the steps. She watched people walk past the bright window displays of the shops and restaurants in groups and couples. The cool spring evening air carried the murmur of conversation, laughter, arguments. Each voice hammered home to her how alone she was.
No one even looked at her. Which was good, because she looked stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Looking stupid for the already out-of-her-league girl who was almost twenty minutes late and so was probably going to stand her up.
Across the street, two college girls walked by holding hands. Cold claws of envy wrapped around Wallflower’s heart like the claws of a xenomorph. That. Right there. That was exactly what she had been stupid enough to hope for tonight. Not much. Just. Being with somebody. Holding hands. Not spending another night alone talking to her potted plants. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself from crying. It didn’t work.
Had Sunset planned this all along?
She remembered all the times she had walked up to the seven of them at lunch. They would all be talking softly with Sunset in the center of it, blushing, and then she’d arrive and they’d all go silent.
The courage it took just to walk up to their table was immense. How dare she, Wallflower Blush, so low on the Canterlot High School social ladder that she basically wasn’t even on it, approach them? Even Fluttershy and Twilight were cooler than Wallflower was. She was like Fluttershy and Twilight’s bastard child, come out so wrong they’d tossed her in a dumpster and pretended she’d never existed.
None of them had deigned to notice her until she made them. Which had been when she’d hit rock bottom. Memory erasure. Mind control. The worst thing she’d ever done. One of the worst things it was possible to do. A violation of personal autonomy so profound that it wasn’t even a crime, because no one had been vile enough to try it before her.
And they’d just… forgiven her.
Allegedly.
Anyway, once she’d get near their table, she’d lock up like a possum playing dead. Fun fact — possums don’t really ‘play dead’. They’re such pathetically stupid furry trash that when confronted by a predator they pass out and shit themselves. So the predator thinks ‘Wow, this ugly tree rat thing just died and had projectile diarrhea; there must be something wrong with it. No way am I eating that’.
And so, stupidity became a survival trait.
In much the same way, she’d learned to navigate the horrors and atrocities of the public school system by becoming invisible. Attention was bad; it led to mocking and beatings and loss of lunch money. Especially attention from Sunset fucking Shimmer the hot and nasty bitch queen. So Wallflower’s instinct was to freeze every time she was around her.
“Wally. Come on. Sit down,” Sunset would say. So Wallflower would sit, and nothing bad would happen. The seven of them even included her in the conversation. All Wallflower’s tactics of mumbling and avoiding eye contact would fail because these people were friends with Fluttershy and already spoke fluent mumble.
Sometimes her and Sunset’s hips would touch. And Wallflower would treasure this moment in the deepest recesses of her heart (And in the filthiest reaches of her imagination) because ‘hips accidentally touching’ was the closest she’d ever get to Sunset Shimmer’s kind of perfection.
All seven of them were hot, but Sunset? She was the best of the lot because she wasn’t just hot. She was a bad girl. She put on the sweet act to fit in with her friends, but Wallflower knew that people didn’t change. Sunset knew how to bring the hurt. Emotionally and physically.
And Wallflower really went for that. Because she hated herself, and she wanted to be hurt.
Anyway. The unreachable dream. Unrequited love. Pathetic sad puppy longing.
Then Sunset had started texting her. Just about the yearbook, at first, which is why Sunset even had her number. But in between Wallflower having to explain shockingly basic stuff like why seventy-two DPI web images weren’t going to work in a print book, Sunset had asked her other things. How was your day, what’re you doing after school, do you have any pets, how about this weather, doesn’t Vice Principal Luna have a cute butt for an old lady, bullshit like that. Wallflower never let on how much getting these texts brightened her day, or tried to make it anything more than friendly chit-chat.
Because there was no way, no possible way, it was anything more than friendly chit-chat.
Then, one day, Wallflower was in the computer cluster messing around on the internet instead of working on the yearbook like she was supposed to be. She had to flow in text for some painfully boring sports stuff and she just couldn’t will herself to focus on it. Sunset had texted her to ask when she’d have the work ready and she’d admitted to Sunset that she hadn’t even started. Sunset had texted back something like:
Sunset: Wally, I love you, but if you do not get me those spreads by the end of the week I will have to tie you down and spank you.
Wallflower: At least buy me dinner first.
Sunset: Okay.
Wallflower: What?
Sunset: I can buy you dinner. When’s good? What do you like to eat?
Wallflower passed out and shat herself.
Not really. But she did enter a fugue state for a few moments, during which the horny part of her brain took control of her hand and typed:
Wallflower: I don’t know about this? Is it going to lead to spanking?
Sunset: Let’s take it slow for now. But dinner. Seriously.
Wallflower: Okay, not to be rude, but I’m confused. Clarify. Are we getting together to talk about the yearbook? Or are you asking me out on a date?
The little ellipses on Sunset’s side of the screen bounced and blinked for about a billion years.
Sunset: A date.
Wallflower: OMG
Sunset: Are you okay?
Sunset: Wally?
Sunset: I hope I didn’t offend you. I’m sorry if I misread the situation.
Sunset: I didn’t mean to be inappropriate.
Sunset: Wally?
Wallflower: Saturday night is good. And I like Indian.
Sunset: :)
Wallflower felt like she was floating for about five seconds. Then she realized that Saturday was TOMORROW and that she had literally no nice clothes. And of course, she’d been too wrapped up in her bad feelings to get her act together enough to get a drivers’ license, so she’d had to beg her mother to drive her to the mall to get a dress.
Relatively little of Wallflower’s endless misery was due to her mother, to the point where when Wallflower slipped and referred to the person she was going on a date with as ‘her’ mom hadn’t even acted surprised. How did she know? Wallflower wasn’t out! She’d never talked about anybody she thought was cute! Was mom psychic? Had she been going through Wallflower’s porn partition while she was at school?
She’d gone into the mall alone, but when she got into a store she freaked out because she didn’t know anything about buying dresses. But girls wore dresses when they went on dates, right? Did they? Wallflower didn’t know anything! So she’d called her mother in a panic. Her mother had helped her pick out the dress, and hugged her in the dressing room when she’d started sobbing because nothing was good enough for Sunset because she wasn’t good enough for sunset.
Mom had told her that of course she was good enough and that this particular dress looked good with her skin tone. And then they’d gone to a movie. And Wallflower had calmed down. A little.
She’d put the dress on before heading out to meet Sunset and looked in the mirror. The cream dress had a sort of double skirt thing — the knee-length outer skirt was cream-colored with a floral print around the hem with a white lace underskirt that went halfway down her calves. A coral red sash around the middle drew attention to the shape of her figure, and the sleeveless top with a scoop neckline showed her shoulders and her chest, and...
It looked good.
Too good.
In a rush of unreasoning shame and self-loathing, she’d pulled one of her baggy sweaters over it. So now she had the skirts of a cute dress sticking out from under an ugly sweater and looked like a huge idiot in front of God and everybody in the whole town.
The perfect look to be stood up in.
Wallflower continued to wait. No Sunset. She craned her neck to look around the statues. (Idiot. Did she think Sunset was hiding behind one?) She checked her phone again. No messages.
Sunset had been playing a long con, hadn’t she?
Revenge.
Which Wallflower had coming in spades, sure, but it still hurt. Twilight was probably recording this with her drone. Sunset’s friends were probably laughing themselves sick at her tears right now. And she’d fallen for it. She’d been so stupid. Stupid! Her fingers slid under her sweater sleeve and dug into her arm. Her grip tightened; ragged nails dimpled puke-colored skin.
Her phone buzzed on the stone step next to her.
Sunset: Sorry late. Frogging evil.
Wallflower stared at her phone, distracted from her despair and self-loathing by the question of what ‘frogging’ was and why it was considered evil. It did sound like the kind of thing Fluttershy would be against.
About a minute later, the phone vibrated again, wiggling towards her hip.
Sunset: Done! OMW!
Wallflower picked up her phone and started typing, thumbs a blur.
Wallflower: Are you okay?
She waited. Nothing. Her eyebrows snapped inward and down. Thumbs blurred again, this time hastened by rage rather than concern.
Wallflower: If you don’t want to go on a date with me you could just say so and not run me around, you skanky biker-ass…
Tires squealed in the street in front of her. Wallflower’s head snapped up in time for her to see Applejack’s pickup truck skid into the bus stop in front of the library.
The window rolled down. Sunset stuck her head out. Her hair was tousled, a forelock singed. A smudge of dirt marked one flawless, lightly-freckled cheek. She was grinning wide, showing immaculate and perfectly proportioned teeth. Even in her disheveled state, she looked fabulous. If anything she looked better this way. God damn her.
“Oh, thank Harmony you’re still here,” said Sunset.
Relief and anger warred in Wallflower’s breast. She didn’t know which to go with, so she settled on snark. “All done frogging, then?”
Sunset’s brows knit in confusion. “Frogging? What?” Her head vanished into the car and came back looking at her phone. “Oh! Autocorrect. I meant to say fighting evil.”
“Why did your autocorrect go to frogging? Frogging isn’t even a word.”
“Oh, it is. It’s awful. Ask Fluttershy about it if you ever have an hour and a half to kill.”
All right then. “So did you win? From your hair, I can’t tell.”
“The girls let me go early. It’s not a big one. Come on, hop in. I need to find someplace to park this beast.”
Wallflower hesitated. She was still angry. Sunset was late. She had a good excuse, but… ah, who was she kidding? This was the only chance she was ever going to get with someone with teeth that perfect. She turned off her phone — very careful not to accidentally hit send on her angry diatribe — and tucked it into her purse.
“Come on, if I get Applejack a ticket for idling in a bus stop she’s going to tan my hide. And not in a fun way.”
✭☆✭☆✭☆✭
Wallflower Blush looked over the menu with an increasingly grim realization that as much as she loved Indian food it was extremely messy. She was going to get vibrant red — or worse, green — sauce on her face and her sweater and her nice new dress and she was going to look like even more of a fool and Sunset was going to realize what a dork she was and get up and leave right in the middle of the date.
She knew there were things on this menu that weren't slathered in massive amounts of delicious spicy sauce but she couldn’t get her eyes to focus.
“So, what are you thinking of getting?” said Sunset, breaking the silence.
Wallflower’s stomach dropped as she realized that she’d been sitting staring at her menu for… what ten minutes now? “Ah… um… oh… Wanna share some appetizers?” There. She wasn’t always entirely stupid. Samosas and pakora would be her salvation.
“Oh, great idea!” Sunset folded her menu and gave Wallflower a serious look. “Wallflower? I don’t mean to ask a personal question but have you been crying?”
“It’s just allergies.” Great deflection. Instead of Sunset thinking she was a crybaby, now she’d think she was a slob. Brilliant maneuver. What had her mother told her in the car on the way home? “People like to talk about themselves. So if you get stuck for conversation ask her questions.” Yes. Perfect. “So, what kind of evil did you have to fight?”
“Oh, a bunch of the boys decided they were too cool to recycle and started throwing everything in the trash. They wound up accidentally summoning a trash monster. Not a big deal.”
“Oh. Wow. That seems like a big deal to me.” Great. Way to sound like a simp.
“Naw, honestly you were harder. I mean mainly because I had to accept the fact that my friends and I had been going on and on about the importance of friendship while being massive jerks to you. But… that’s probably a sore topic, isn’t it?”
“No. I’m evil. I accept it.”
Sunset snorted. “You are not evil. I was evil. You were pushed too far and finally lashed out. You were just trying to protect yourself.”
Wallflower felt the anger rising again. Oh, don’t try to one-up me, missy. “Evil? Please. You were a Disney villain. Hey, remember that time when you needed to fake a photo and you had your minions cut and paste it together like a couple of kindergartners? Have you ever heard of Photoshop?” She immediately regretted her words, but Sunset just laughed.
“I guess you could have helped me with that,” she said.
Wallflower looked down at her menu. “I would have if you’d asked. I wouldn’t even have hesitated.”
“Are you ready to order?” said the waiter.
Ordering derailed the conversation, and when the waiter had gone Wallflower sat in silence again. She couldn’t think of any more questions to ask.
“So,” said Sunset, leaning forward on the table and folding her hands together, a gesture somewhere between ‘evil mastermind’ and ‘awkward job interview.’ “Tell me about yourself.”
Wallflower glared at Sunset through her bangs. “You know me.”
“Not very well.”
“No. You go first. Tell me about you. Who’s Sunset?”
“Fine. I’m an alien mage who used to be obsessed with taking over the universe. But that didn’t work out, so I’m looking to try some new things. Like having friends and going on dates. Your turn.”
Wallflower frowned. “What do you know about me?”
“You’re shy but you’re willing to stand up for yourself. You’re a great photographer, you like gardening, you’re a genius graphic designer…”
“I’m not a genius. Lindon Leader is a genius graphic designer. I’m just the fool who agreed to do layouts for her high school yearbook because nobody else knew how to use InDesign.”
“And you say things about ‘live area’ and ‘room for bleed’ and ‘print resolution’ and all I can do is smile and nod. The only other people I know who are like that are the Twilights, and they’re geniuses, so you must be too.” Sunset paused. “Who’s Lindon Leader?”
“Fed Ex Logo guy.”
“Oh, with the arrow? Right. That is cool.”
“It’s genius.” Wallflower hesitated. “What you don’t know is that I’m evil.”
Sunset leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes. “Wally we were just talking about that. You’re into mind control kink. I get it. It’s fine.”
Wallflower’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been creeping my AO3 account?”
Those perfect teeth glittered when she smiled. “Oh, no, I was just kidding. This is interesting. So you really do want to control people’s minds. Tell me more.”
A blush burned on Wallflower’s cheeks. “Um, I’m typically more of a sub in that regard. Listen. I have a dark side.”
“Go on.”
“I like horror movies, for one thing.”
Sunset held her hands to her cheeks. “Oh no.”
Wallflower leaned forward. “Yeah, not silly little slasher movies, Disney princess.”
“Villain.”
“Those are fun, but I’m into the dark, nasty stuff. The ‘what the fuck did I just watch?’ stuff.”
“Such as?”
“The Guinea Pig series?”
“Never heard of it.”
“A Serbian Film?”
“Nope.”
“Human Centipede?”
Sunset wrinkled up her nose in adorable disgust. “Oooooh, I’ve heard of that one.”
“Yeah, that one kind of sucks, unlike the other two. But I’ve watched it, just to test my boundaries.” She leaned further forward. “What kind of sick, depraved person would watch something like that?”
“Millions of people. And it’s dark — and in this case incredibly disgusting — but it’s not evil. You didn’t hurt anyone by watching it. Try again.”
Wallflower opened her mouth, then hesitated. She wanted to tell Wallflower about the black hole. About the horrible thoughts she’d had not fifteen minutes ago. About what a mess she was inside of herself. But no, she wasn’t ready to talk about that. She’d have to lie. She fished around in her brain for a good one. What could be worse than thinking Devil’s Experiment was a masterpiece of terror and pity? Why had she gone for the big guns first? “I…”
“Torture small animals?” said Sunset.
“No.”
“Rob old ladies at gunpoint?”
“What would they even have worth stealing, Precious Moments figurines?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not buying this evil thing,” said Sunset.
“Sunset, I erased your friends' memories of you! And I tried to wipe yours! I violated who you all are as people on a fundamental level! I mean… without memories, who are we? Our experiences make us how we are, and… you know, with different memories, I’d be someone else.” Wouldn’t that be nice. Why hadn’t she used that dumb rock on herself?
“Right. Mind control fetish. That’s fine, in a context of informed consent. I’m not completely against experimenting with it. You know I could do it.”
Wallflower’s thighs squeezed together involuntarily. No, Sunset, you’re out of my league already, don’t make me want you more. “I’m… uh… gay?”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah, even my mom isn’t bothered by that.”
“Hey, food’s here! Is that what a pakora is? Those look amazing!”
“Those are paneer pakora. They’re full of cheese!” said Wallflower.
✭☆✭☆✭☆✭
The knowledge that she’d lied to Sunset hung over her like a shroud through dinner, making her samosas taste like ash in her mouth. She’d made a good show of confessing without telling her important thing, the black dog that had stalked her whole life. The thing that really ought to be disclosed before someone entered into a relationship with her. The thing that, if it wasn’t an excuse for every sucky thing she ever did, was at least the unavoidable cause. The black hole. The deal-breaker.
After dinner, Sunset had paid, tipped generously, and took her by the arm, and led her out the restaurant. “Do you mind if we hold hands?” said Sunset.
“N-no.” God, Wallflower, stop stammering like some wilting violet.
Fingers interlaced. Even in Wallflower’s haze of self-disgust, it felt right. She observed that though Sunset was a bit taller and much curvier than her, their hands were exactly the same size.
“Can I ask you a question?” said Sunset.
“Are you always going to ask me for permission before you do everything?”
Sunset blushed. Had Wallflower done that? Made the fierce Sunset Shimmer blush? “Well, I don’t know what your limits are. And I feel like I’ve been too forward already.”
“You knew I’d be receptive,” said Wallflower.
“Did I?”
Wallflower snorted. “How could I not be? The miserable and disgusting Wallflower Blush would jump at a chance to date the magnificent Sunset Shimmer!”
Sunset took half a step away. Wallflower had trouble interpreting the look she shot her; something incorporating both amusement and hurt. “Do you think I’m Trixie?”
Wallflower rolled her eyes. “Fine. The great and powerful Wallflower Blush will deign to hear your question.”
“When you were crying. Before I picked you up. Was that because I was late?”
The bottom fell out of Wallflower’s belly. “I wasn’t crying.”
“Empathy’s kind of my thing, honey. I just had to look at your face.”
They came to the street corner. Wallflower looked down towards the bookstore and the second-run theater. There was something in her eyes. She couldn’t read the theater marquee. She turned back to Sunset. “I thought you were standing me up.”
Wallflower ignored the look of pity on Sunset’s face as she opened her mouth to speak. She pulled her hand free of Sunset’s grip and held it up. “Wait. There’s more. I thought you’d planned to stand me up. I thought…” her voice disintegrated into a sob. Sunset said nothing, just watched her warily. “I thought you and your friends were conspiring to get back at me for what I did to you.”
“Okay,” said Sunset. “You know we’d never do that, right? We’re like, pew pew blast you with the friendship lasers and that’s it.” She made finger guns at her, mimed recoil, and blew pretend smoke off the tips. “No hard feelings.”
“I know it’s crazy. It’s crazy because I’m crazy. Why do you think I’m always late turning stuff in for the yearbook?”
Sunset pursed her lips. “Because you’re busy? Because you’re not a machine?”
“Because I just sit there. Staring at the screen. Because I just don’t feel anything. And when I do feel something, it’s like razors inside my chest, and I can’t think about anything except how bad I feel and what a useless piece of trash I am. And if something good seems like it might happen to me. I do my best to shoot myself in the foot. Like… like with you. By standing on a street corner on a first date sobbing like a lunatic!” She rubbed her tears out of her eyes and flung her hands down as though she were trying to throw the tears away. “You deserve better.”
“And you think that’s evil.”
“I guess that sounds crazy, but it feels that way, okay?"
“And you think that’s a dark secret.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, honey.” Gentle hands wrapped around Wallflower’s wrists. While she didn’t use great force, Wallflower could feel a gentle strength in her hands. “Wallflower, I need to listen to me. Do you know why I’m interested in you?”
“Because you have a thing for charity cases?”
“Because you’ve been through what I’ve been through. Part of it anyway. You… you know what it’s like to betray your own values. To walk away from doing something you know is wrong.
“I’m impressed with how strong you are. Feeling like you do, but refusing to give up. Looking for ways to be happy. Planting things -- plants, talents, friendships -- and giving them time to grow.”
Wallflower looked up at Sunset through her bangs. She’d put so much effort into brushing those, and they were already tangled again. “I’m not your inspiration porn.” She said it with a smile, though. It felt good to be complimented.
Sunset smirked. “Sorry. I just think you’re brave, is all. Also, I like the bad girls. And I think you do, too.”
Wallflower looked away. “Maaaayyybeee. I thought you said I wasn’t evil.”
“We can do just a little evil sometimes. As a treat.”
“Aw thanks,” mumbled Wallflower.
“You also have the prettiest brown eyes. And that dress and sweater look is adorable. Such a good look for you.”
“Seriously? I didn’t plan it. I just pulled on the sweater because the top part of the dress shows my body too much.”
“That’s fine. Keep it a secret for me. I don’t mind. Hey. Do you want to see what’s playing at the theater?”
They walked there hand in hand, Sunset half a step ahead of her, hurrying as though she were excited about something. Or nervous. Wallflower’s breath caught in her throat when she saw the poster by the door. Black and white. Three people threatened by a ring of gangrenous hands reaching in from beyond the edge of the poster.
“Night of the Living Dead. Is that a good one?” said Sunset.
“Oh,” said Wallflower, gripping her arm. “It’s a classic! And there’s a showing starting soon. Can we watch it?”
Sunset looked worried. “I’ve never seen a scary movie before.”
Wallflower’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“I’m kind of new around here. There are a lot of things I haven’t done. But is it like… those other movies you mentioned?”
“Oh no. Like. It’s scary. And there are zombies eating people, but not like in a super gross way.”
“Oh, well that’s a relief,” said Sunset, not sounding like she meant it.
“It’s just a super well-made film. And deep, too! It’s, like an allegory for cold war paranoia and the civil rights movement!”
Sunset looked skeptical. “With zombies.”
“Yes! With zombies! Can we go? Please?” She did her best to make puppy dog eyes.
Sunset took a deep breath. “Sure. We can.”
Wallflower smiled wickedly. “Great! Can we be evil and sneak in?”
✭☆✭☆✭☆✭
A couple of hours later, they stepped out of the theater, Sunset trembling on Wallflower’s arm. “I have never known what true fear was until now.”
Wallflower smirked. “You’re adorable. Don’t worry. I’ll build up your tolerance.” Wallflower had enjoyed Sunset cringing against her arm at every tense moment, loved her little shrieks. It was only a movie, but it was still good to feel like the strong one for once.
“Do it slowly,” said Sunset, looking around them as if scanning the night for zombies.
“They’re coming for you, Sunset,” groaned Wallflower.
Sunset leaned away from her a tiny bit. “Please don’t.”
“So tell me the truth. Is it a coincidence we wound up going near this theater on this night?”
Sunset gave her an awkward grin, blushed. “Okay, confession time. I told my friends I was into you, and they were helping me work up my nerve to ask you out. And telling me what they knew about you, which isn’t much. They’d heard you were into horror stuff? Or at least that there was always a lot of fake blood on your Halloween costumes. So I had that in mind when I planned the evening.
Wallflower felt strangely unbalanced. Like the world had just slipped off its axis. “You. Needed to work up your nerve. To ask me out?”
“Yes. Are you amazed?” Somehow, the world’s spinning had brought her face to face with Sunset, cradled against her soft, strong body.
Wallflower looked up into Sunset’s confident blue eyes. “I don’t deserve this. You. This evening. Any of this.”
“Fine. I’ll allow it. But neither do I.” Sunset took Wallflower’s cheeks in her hands. “There’s something else I want to know about you. Do you kiss on the first date?”
Wallflower rose on her toes and pressed her lips softly against Sunset’s.