The Scandalous Secret of High Style

by thedarkprep

Rating: teen
Tags: Photo Finish, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other
Length: 7171

High Style, Photo Finish's aide and famous stylist, was trying to have a normal day, but few things are normal when Cloud Kicker arrives.

High Style, Photo Finish's aide and famous stylist, was trying to have a normal day, but few things are normal when Cloud Kicker arrives.

This story is written as part of the Winningverse (which is why I don't go in depth into exploring Cloud Kicker's character). If you don't know why Cloud Kicker is the way she is, then go read the Life and Times of a Winning Pony. It is by far a better story than this one.

However, I'd appreciate it if you came back once you were done.

Published 2013-05-31 20:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-05 20:40:53 UTC

1. The Pony with a Silver Tongue (not me)

The Scandalous Secret of High Style

By:thedarkprep

1. The Pony with a Silver Tongue (not me)

“Want to bang?”

My first instinct was to nod, as one often does during conversations that one may not be paying attention to. After all, I was in the middle of a Canterlot fashion show, and therefore it was usually a safe bet to assume that the conversation was neither interesting nor important. In fact, I was halfway through the nod when the words sunk in, causing me to do a jarring motion with my neck as I turned to look at the pony beside me. It was not my most graceful moment.

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard,” I said. “What did you say?”

The pony cocked her head to the side before giving a small giggle.

“I asked if you wanted to bang.”

Ok, so I wasn’t hearing things.

I tried to formulate a response but my mind was having trouble catching up to the situation. As such, I decided to study the pony beside me a bit while I waited for my brain to kick in, and because of the… uniqueness of the conversation, it would probably be a while.

She was a lavender pegasus with a jasmine mane and tail and she looked very unlike the rest of the ponies at the event, from her demeanor to her appearance.

For starters there was the absolute lack of self-importance which seemed to surround the rest of the ponies present like a shawl. Make no mistake, she seemed very self-assured, but her confidence lacked all the inherent snobbishness of the nobility. Instead, she carried herself more like a soldier would. Granted, a very relaxed and apparently sexual soldier, but a soldier nonetheless.

She was also not wearing clothes and seeing how this was a fashion show that made her stick out even more so than it would in the city proper, which considering Canterlot society, was saying something.

I then spotted her cloud cutie mark on which my eyes lingered as I tried to place the pony. After all, she rang a few bells.

“Should I take that as a yes, or are you just checking out what I have to offer?”

My eyes darted from her cutie mark to look back at her face, on which was plastered the sultriest and most knowing smirk I had ever witnessed.

Seeing how I was not in fact checking out her plot, it should have been an easy enough thing to explain the misunderstanding as a calm, rational being and to laugh off how funny it must have looked.

Instead I began blushing furiously and stammering like an idiot. Again, not my most graceful moment.

“Wha- No! I was not looking at you like that or anything, I was just thinking and I got lost in thought,” I stammered. “I wasn’t checking you out, honest!”

I didn’t think it was possible, but her smirk only grew wider as her half lidded eyes bore into my soul. I began blushing even more.

“Anyway, that was a rather forward question don’t you think?” I asked, desperate to get the focus off of me.

She shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a forward pony,” she said. “I’d rather say what I mean and mean what I say than to play silly mind games. Every second I spend playing around is a second I could be spending playing around, if you catch my drift.”

The way she spoke rattled through my mind and it sent a shiver down my spine. I caught her drift.

“Be that as it may,” I said after clearing my throat. “We’re in a very prestigious fashion show in the middle of Canterlot. Don’t you think that asking such a thing is very unladylike, Ms…?”

“Cloud Kicker.”

Aaah, that explained a lot. I had heard plenty about the infamous Cloud Kicker before and now that I knew who she was, everything made far too much sense.

“Right,” I said. “Don’t you think it is very unladylike and impolite Ms. Cloud Kicker?”

She looked around as if noticing her surroundings for the first time.

“I guess,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “I’m visiting Canterlot for the weekend and I just kinda wandered in here by mistake, saw a beautiful mare, and decided to strike up a conversation. Any ‘rudeness’ on my part was incidental and not at all on purpose. I am sorry if I offended you though.”

I felt myself soften up, and not just because she called me beautiful. Honest.

“That’s ok, you didn’t offend me,” I said. “It just caught me offguard.”

“Well, I’m sorry for that then Ms…”

“High Style,” I said. “But most just call me Sty for short.”

“Sty? I like it,” she said. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m sorry if I caught you offguard, but I have to be honest with you. I have a huge weakness for cute mares which makes me more forward than I normally am, and that’s saying something. So I’m sorry in advance if I say something else embarrassing or impolite while I keep talking to you.”

Cloud Kicker took a subtle step forward, closing some of the distance between us and allowing me to feel some of the heat coming off her fur.

Yes, I knew exactly what she was doing. No, that did not stop it from working.

“Well,” I began speaking slowly. “If you really think it’ll be that big of a problem, perhaps we should go somewhere more private. We wouldn’t want to disturb the rest of the patrons should you say something ‘impolite,’ right?”

Cloud Kicker’s eyes brightened as she gave an excited nod.

“Lead the way.”

I looked around the crowded room looking for my boss, who I eventually found talking to a large group of interviewers, models, and designers. From the look of things she would be busy for quite a while and therefore my presence would not be missed should I go out for a bit. I soundlessly motioned for Cloud Kicker to follow me as I began making my way through the room and towards the back exit.

The cool breeze tickled my face as the doors opened allowing us onto the brisk Canterlot afternoon. It always amused me that the days and nights of the fall season were cooler than the summer ones, since the weather was entirely controlled by magic and therefore could be made to be whatever temperature one wished year round. Still, I wasn’t complaining since on this day it meant that Cloud Kicker had an excuse to huddle up beside me as we walked.

I know I should have pulled away, but I didn’t

I did, however, turn my head to face away from her in order to examine my surroundings and not at all to hide the growing blush on my face.

The setting sun was now in my line of sight causing me to stare dumbfounded as it often did. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen plenty of sunsets in my time. However, there was something special about watching them from Canterlot. Maybe it was the altitude, maybe it was the fact that Celestia and Luna controlled the celestial bodies from here, or maybe it was just in my head. And yet, regardless of the reason, sunsets here were more captivating than they were anywhere else.

“Amazing isn’t it?”

The voice broke me from my reverie, causing me to face Cloud Kicker once more. It was then that I realized that I had stopped walking, and I was about to apologize when I noticed that her eyes weren’t on me, but on the on the setting sun.

“I wouldn’t mind staying here and watching this for a while,” she said. “After all, it is the second hottest thing I’ve seen since I got here.”

I fought the urge to facehoof.

Really Cloud Kicker? Really? I do appreciate being called hot, and I probably would have blushed and acted like a school filly again if not for the fact that Cloud Kicker had just compared me not to the sun’s beauty, not to the sun’s splendor, and not the sun’s radiance, but to its physical temperature.

A poet Cloud Kicker was not.

And yet I persevered, with my hoof safely away from my face and my thoughts on the matter unvoiced. Instead I just laughed.

Now, I should mention that I did not laugh on purpose. I certainly did not mean to laugh and, if I could have, I would have stopped immediately. And yet I couldn’t, and I began laughing the hardest that I had for a while. I was just about to start feeling bad about it when I noticed that Cloud Kicker was laughing with me.

“Yea, I know,” she said, as the laughter died down. “I’m horrible at metaphors.”

I took a few calming breaths.

“No no, it’s cute,” I said. “You’re cute.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“F” on execution, but “B” for effort.

The two of us continued to watch the setting sun after that, as well as the rising moon and stars before we finally continued on our walk to find a more private place, a journey that was decidedly less silent than it had previously been, for which I was rather thankful.

Cloud Kicker told me all about herself as we walked, such as what it was like growing up in a military family, what her current life in Ponyville and her job in the weather team was like, about her sister Alula, and yes, even some of her more notorious hook ups, including those with a griffon and the one with a stallion with a strange obsession with jelly.

She also asked me a lot about me and my past, but these were questions that I either avoided, or talked about but never really answered. She must have noticed my reluctance to talk about myself or personal topics because she eventually stopped asking and just continued talking about herself.

And then we were there: the royal garden.

Most ponies would not think of an open area such as this as a private place. However, I knew it to be so.

For starters, there was a rumor that this garden was closed and only accessible during big events like the Grand Galloping Gala, despite Princess Celestia’s numerous attempts to get ponies to use the grounds as a public park or recreation area. Then there was the fact that this part of the castle had nothing worth protecting but easily replaceable plants, meaning that guards would not come through here on their patrols, sparing us any awkward situations. Lastly, the surrounding trees and their location on the far side of the castle grounds meant that this area was as secluded as any random room in Canterlot.

I turned around to watch as Cloud Kicker got acquainted with her surroundings. I could even trace her line of sight as she went from scanning the trees, the flowers, the stars, and the fireflies, all covered under the soft blanket of moonlight.

I may have been staring open mouthed, but I didn’t have it in me to be embarrassed enough to blush. I feel like staring open mouthed is the appropriate response to seeing somepony as beautiful as Cloud Kicker looked at that moment.

She turned to look at me as I closed my mouth and for a moment we were all there was. We were all that was real and nothing existed beyond the small clearing we were in.

Just the stars, the moon, Cloud Kicker, and me.

She began walking closer towards me and I felt my breath catch in my throat. There was no mistaking what she was doing, what was going to happen. Everything from the way she looked at me, to how she walked, to the subtle ripple of her wings betrayed a blazing want for physical contact, a lust for intimacy that had to be sated.

I knew I should stop her. Something in my mind told me that I was forgetting something important. Some reason as to why this was wrong. Then there were the things that I hadn’t forgotten. Like the fact that I had only just met Cloud Kicker and here I was about to bang her.

And yet, I couldn’t stop her.

Nor did I try.

I needed that contact and that intimacy as well. Maybe even more so, something that became very apparent as my anticipation grew.

I shared in her want.

She didn’t hesitate as she reached me, using her hoof to guide my head and lips onto hers.

Our lips met.

The dam broke.

That one kiss cracked the barrier that was holding everything back, and the second it happened, an unrestrained aching and yearning was allowed to take over.

Where the first kiss had been sweet, the next had been passionate. Where the first movements had been slow like a dance, the following had been frantic and erratic. Where before there had been doubt, now there was only confidence.

The stars and the moon were gone. It was now only Cloud Kicker and me.

And I loved it.

She pulled away for air before giving me another passionate kiss, this time using her whole body to pin me against a tree as she explored my mouth. I draped my forelegs around her neck pushing back a bit. Her wings flared, causing a bit of wind to flow through my mane, tickling my face. I ran a hoof through her mane. We continued to kiss.

Then Cloud Kicker separated from me, inciting a small whine from me. She looked at me with an amused smirk as her hoof trailed over my body, coming to rest where the hemline of my dress connected with my flank.

“You know what I really love about ponies who wear clothes all the time?” she asked.

“No, do tell,” I said, with a horrible attempt at a purr. Cloud Kicker giggled.

“I love the anticipation, the mystery, and I love the feeling of the first reveal where I can take off the excess and unnecessary layers, to see the beautiful mare hiding beneath," she said as her hoof began to pull up on my dress.

I slapped it away.

Cloud Kicker cocked her head to the side in confusion as I pushed her off me. She obviously had no idea what had just happened, and was patiently waiting for an explanation. I couldn’t give her one however, since I was just figuring out the problem myself.

My heartbeat quickened as the implications of what I had just done, and what I almost did, rushed to the forefront of my mind. Then the panic started.

Hurried breaths.

Falling tears.

My shaking frame.

I tried to regain my composure but failed as I struggled to even stay standing. I faltered once or twice but managed to pull through. Anger and rage welled up inside me, followed by a constant monologue of what an idiot I was and what I had just risked.

“How could I be so stupid?” I thought.

A small rustling to my right caught my attention, and I turned to find Cloud Kicker staring at me with concern.

At least, I think it was concern. It could also be confusion.

Or maybe… Hurt?

“I can’t,” I managed to mumble through my tears and my ragged breaths. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,”

Cloud Kicker said nothing, instead taking a cautious step towards me. I don’t know if she had been trying to come over to comfort me or if she was going to just walk away, seeing how I was blocking her way to the exit. I may never know.

At that moment, I ran.

I didn’t look back to see if Cloud Kicker was behind me or just standing there, staring with a hurt face. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I ran as fast as I could to the safety of my room.

Tears marked my path as they fell onto the ground behind me, but thankfully no one was outside to watch me run or to follow my trail. For better or worse, I was alone.

“You almost gave up your secret,” I scolded myself. “And for what? So you could bang somepony? Do you have any idea how stupid you are? What this could have cost you?”

As always, only silence answered my questions, allowing me to keep going.

“But that’s ok isn’t it? After all, it’s not like you sacrificed everything you had, your family, your friends, your history for this. And it’s not like you would lose everything again if you were found out. No, surely this is not important enough that you should keep it from a complete stranger!”

It wasn’t long from then before I arrived home. It took a few tries to unlock the door with my shaking hooves, but eventually I managed it, letting myself inside.

The lights were off but I made no effort to turn them on, instead walking over to the couch where I laid down and began to weep.

I wept for my stupidity.

I wept for the role I had been dealt.

I wept for the pained look on Cloud Kicker’s face.

And finally, I wept for that closeness that Cloud Kicker offered. A closeness I knew I could never have again.

The sound of my cries echoed through the house as I slowly but surely calmed down.

And yet the tears would not stop.

It had been years since I had allowed myself to be close to somepony like I had that night. It had been years since I had trusted somepony, and if that night proved anything it was how much I missed such companionship. How much I needed it.

And yet, I couldn’t have it. Being close to somepony like that meant revealing myself, revealing my secret, and that was something I could not afford.

All I was allowed to have was loneliness.

I stared around myself, almost as if able to see the walls that separated me from other ponies. I reached out to touch them but they weren’t really there. They weren’t really solid. And yet they were the most solid objects in existence.

I began crying again, as the thoughts played over and over in my head.

I could never be close to anypony again.

To do so would mean revealing my secret.

Revealing my secret was something I could not do, no matter how much I wanted to.

If anyone found out I was transgender, it would cost me everything.

Author's Note

And so here is my entry into the Winningverse!

Yea, I know, I really don't like seeming like a one trick pony but this is something I thought the Winningverse needed and something I could provide. Also, I took the exact opposite approach I did with Rose in Dysphoria, so I don't feel too guilty about it.

Unlike Dysphoria, this one doesn't have a set release schedule, so the next chapters will be up as soon as I can get them finished.

Also, thank yous go to ElkinFencer and daemonofdecay for pre-reading and editing.

Happy Reading,
-thedarkprep

2. The Pony with the Stylish Frames (not me)

2. The Pony with the Stylish Frames (not me)

Rain hit the ground in heavy droves as I dug through the trash. I had already found a few cardboard boxes to make myself a shelter for the night, but none of them were big or sturdy enough to shelter me from the downpour, so I kept looking, digging through the refuse for something, anything, which could offer any form of protection.

I turned my attention to another trashcan, opening it to find a few newspapers. They were slightly wet, with the ink running down the paper, but that didn’t matter. My bones, were chilled beyond belief and these papers would still provide some warmth when stuffed into my jacket, even despite their dampness.

As quickly as I could, I began stuffing the newspapers into the available space between my jacket and my fur, a task made more difficult by my hunger. Sure, there was the constant growling in my stomach and the pain that came along with malnutrition, but this was a pain I had grown quite accustomed to as of late. This pain had only gotten worse as my stomach seemed to begin eating itself for survival, much like how my lack of nutrition ebbed away my muscles, making each movement more difficult.

Now, however, there was the constant feeling of being close to fainting. I figured this could be attributed to the lack of nutrition as well, or to the lack of sleep... or to the lack of hope. Regardless of the reason, I always felt tired and in constant danger of falling asleep.

And yet, I knew I couldn’t.

To fall asleep was to die, and I couldn’t die just yet, regardless of how much I would like to.

So I kept grabbing newspapers, despite the pain in my stomach, the aching of my joints, and the atrophy of my bones. A flash of lightning soared through the sky, illuminating the area enough for me to catch a look at my reflection in a nearby puddle. I was so skinny now that each bone seemed to pull through the skin. I had easily been able to see each rib, each femur, each notch on my spine.

“A model’s envy,” I muttered, offering my mirthless laughter as a response to my horrible joke. That’s all I had now, my bad jokes and my imminent death. I shook my head in annoyance as I, with great effort, pulled out the last newspaper, almost dropping it as I read the cover.

Tranny Infiltrates Canterlot Fashion Industry! Public Seeks Action!

Tear mixed with the rain as I struggled to control my emotions, but it was too much. At this point I was exhausted mentally and physically, long past having crossed my limits.

I collapsed, crying into the surrounding puddles,the newspaper falling as well, making most of the familiar print unreadable. And yet, between the parts that I had memorized and the parts that had were still legible, I could still make out the article.

There was a public outcry today demanding the immediate resignation of one of Photo Finish’s top stylists after news that said pony was not in-fact a mare, but rather a cross-dressed stallion, hit the mainstream. In response, Photo Finish Inc. has released a statement issuing a public apology for their oversight and an assurance that the issue will be dealt with, adding that had they been aware of Cotton Candy’s real gender, swift action would have been taken. Despite this public statement, stocks for Photo Finish Inc. continue to plummet, as the public takes to the streets, voicing their disgust.

“I cannot believe this,” Hoity Toity said. “I mean, this pony was in constant contact with my models and none of us knew. I am shocked and disgusted, yes, but my models are outright distraught. I mean, can you imagine what could have happened to them?”

“The way I see it, we have to make a statement,” Uppercrust told reporters. “This pony was a role model to many and a very prominent figure, and now we find out that not only is she a compulsive liar who lied to us all, but she is a he? We cannot have someone with this illness be out there for others to idolize. It is not enough to fire him, we have to make sure everypony understands that this is not just unacceptable, but reprehensible.”

Princess Celestia has declined to comment on the situation at this time, but it is rumored that she is gathering a unit of guards to apprehend Cotton Candy in response to crimes against basic decency. And yet, some argue that would not be enough as…

I could not keep reading.

With a loud wail I wept like I had never wept before.

“I’m sorry,” I yelled. “I didn’t mean to be this way, I wish I weren’t. But please.. make this stop… I’m sorry.”

A large lightning strike illuminated the sky again, followed by a resounding crash.

I bolted up, tears still streaking across my face.

However, I was no longer wet and freezing.

In fact, I was home.

“Sorry about that, these cups are way too fragile!”

I turned to look towards the kitchen where the voice had come from, but I was unable to see the pony who had spoken. Not that I needed to, of course - with that accent there was only one pony it could be.

As the shock of my rude awakening wore off, I became instantly aware of my giant headache, which made it a bit hard to get my bearings on what exactly had happened. Looking around, I noticed that I had apparently fallen asleep on the couch, that someone had put a blanket over me, and that I had apparently been drinking, the last of which meant that something bad had happened. I tried to piece together the events from the previous day, but I ended up coming up blank, as no matter how hard I tried, not one memory resurfaced.

“I know I was the fashion show,” I mumbled to myself. “But I can’t remember anything after that, not even how I got home.”

I continued to sit there and think, oblivious to the mare that had joined me from the kitchen.

“Well good morning Sty!” she exclaimed. “I hope my mishap in the kitchen didn’t wake you. Also, I owe you a teacup.”

I could say a lot of good things about Photo Finish’s voice, but that list would not include her ability to speak at an acceptable level of loudness, especially on a morning such as this one.

“Do you have to be so loud?” I asked, covering my ears. “You’re not helping my hangover.”

I couldn’t know for sure because of those glasses she always wore, but I could swear that she rolled her eyes at me.

“Oh, right, I cannot imagine what type of hangover you must be dealing with,” she said sarcastically. “A whole beer! You must have been quite wasted.”

She then went up to the solitary beer can sitting on the living room table.

“Oh, my mistake,” she said, picking it up. “Half a beer.”

Yea, there was no mistaking the eye roll and the raised eyebrow.

“Leave me alone,” I said, laying back down. “I’m a lightweight; that was more than enough.”

“Come eat some breakfast at least,” Photo Finish said. “You’ll feel better with some food in your system. You’ll feel even worse if you don’t.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic, despite really wanting to.

“Fine, fine,” I said, getting up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen.

“Bagels, tea, and fried hay? Not bad for a breakfast,” I exclaimed, sitting at the kitchen counter, Photo Finish sitting beside me. A soft silence coursed through the house as we ate, save for the sound of chewing or the occasional rattle of a cup or plate which would have been rather peaceful, if not for the question nagging in the head.

“So, as much as I appreciate the breakfast,” I began as I finished my meal, “You don’t normally make a habit of breaking into my home. Is something the matter?”

Photo Finish shrugged as she took another sip of her tea.

“When you first didn’t come back to the fashion show, I didn’t think much of it. I figured that you were out having fun with that blonde pegasus I saw you leave with. But when you didn’t come back for a few hours, I ended up getting worried. You never do well in those types of social situations and since you didn’t come back at all, I assumed something bad happened,” she said. “Since I found you sleeping on your couch next to a half empty beer, I’ll assume I was right to worry.”

And just like that my memory clicked into place, with each scene from the previous night playing behind my eyes.

In a blur I remembered the fashion show.

First, I remembered the wonderful walk I took and the conversation I was a part of. Then, I remembered the closeness to another pony, a closeness I had longed for more so than even I realized.

Finally, I remembered Cloud Kicker.

My thoughts stopped there, replaying the various expressions Cloud Kicker had worn throughout the night: the playful grin, the sensual smile, the hurt stare. I sighed in annoyance, angry at myself for letting any of that happen at all, and for not letting it continue. I was unsure of which was worse.

“Hey, you know I was kidding about you being anti-social, right?”

I looked up to meet the very worried gaze of my boss, and internally cringed as I tried to figure out how long I had been spaced out for.

“I know” I said finally, deciding that I was probably not lost in thought long enough to cause serious concern. “Sorry, I was just remembering things from last night.”

“Care to share?” she asked, to which I shrugged.

“Not much to say,” I responded. “I went to the castle gardens with the pony you saw me with. We had fun, we talked, then we got… intimate. And then I remembered what I was doing. I freaked out and ran away.”

I sat there awkwardly for a long while before she responded.

“So you got intimate with a pony?” she asked.

The question caught me off-guard, causing me to blush slightly and nod slowly despite being annoyed about that being the detail she picked up on.

And then I waited for a response.

“That’s wonderful news!” she exclaimed. “Granted, running away before the real fun was probably not the best thing, but foal steps.”

For a second I almost gave in to the impulse to bring my hoof squarely upon my face. After all, it would have covered the massive blush on my face on top of showcasing exactly what I thought about my boss and her priorities. And yet I somehow managed to fight it, instead taking a deep breath before talking.

“I almost gave up my secret,” I said wearily. “I almost ruined everything because I was lonely, because I was attracted to that one mare. Everything I’ve worked so hard to hide could have been revealed. I still can’t believe I was so stupid.”

I hung my head, feeling a large number of emotions weigh on me. Photo Finish scooted closer to me, a foreleg touching my shoulder, which caused me to prepare for the hug she was about to give me.

Then I fell to the floor as she pushed me off my chair.

“What was that for?!” I yelled from the floor. I looked up to see my boss’ face, which was currently set in a very amused smirk.

“You were being dumb,” she said simply. “I fixed it.”

“What are you talking about? You didn’t fix anything! You pushed me onto the floor. I’m lucky I’m not hurt.”

She raised her hoof up to her glasses, adjusting them.

“The way I figure, you’re no longer calling yourself ‘stupid’ and moping around,” she said, using her hooves to do air-quotes for emphasis. “You’re also not going on about how you have to keep your secret at the expense of being close to others. The way I see it, I fixed things.”

She turned back to sip from her tea as I continued to glare up at her from the floor.

"Look, I get that you don’t think my secret is that big of a deal,” I said, “But it is. If anypony were to find out, they would-“

“Bah,” she exclaimed, interrupting me. “They would what? Turn on you? Gossip? Let them. You’re better than that. Besides, they wouldn’t be able to lay a hoof on you. I would make sure of that.”

“They would ask for my resignation, my entire career would be ruined,” I said.

My point was answered by rather stern glare. “Are you implying that I would fire you?”

The question stopped me in my tracks. No matter how panicked I became, or how irrational my thoughts could be, there were a few unyielding truths upon which I could always count on - truths that I would never challenge.

“You don’t always make all the decisions,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “What if they-“

“Do you think I would let anyone in my company get away with making that suggestion?” she asked interrupting me, a steel like edge coloring her voice. “Do you think I wouldn’t intervene on your behalf?”

“No,” I said hesitantly, unable to answer with anything else. She had been the one to find me, to help me present as a mare, to give me a home and a career. And she did it all knowing exactly what I was.

“Good,” she responded. “And never forget that.”

“But they could boycott,” I said, not feeling like letting the argument die just yet. “They could stop giving you jobs and slander your company because you refuse to get rid of me. Even more so if they found out how much you helped me become myself.”

“Then they miss out on my art,” she said, shrugging. “To be honest, I kind of wish that would happen. It would make it easier to see who was worth doing business with.”

She took another long sip of tea as I took in my defeat, aware that there was little I could say at this point to change her mind. Still, it felt good to know that she would stick by me if need be, even if she had to make me feel like an idiot each time she showed it.

“Still, it’s your secret to keep. Not mine,” she said, adding under breath, “Dumb as it may be.”

“Leave it to her to make a fuzz and then brush it off like it was nothing,” I thought, a smile forming on my lips while I made my way back to my seat.

As I sat back up, Photo Finish grabbed one of the envelopes from my daily mail pile and placed it in-front of me.

“What’s this?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I haven’t read it,” she said, after taking a deep sigh. “But from the address I would figure that it’s from your mother. I figured since we’re talking about you keeping your secret, there was no better time to give you this.”

I couldn’t help but smile at first as I heard the way she had pronounced the word “mother”. Just the sheer amount of venom packed into those two syllables was enough to cheer me up. It was something I found it endearing, especially considering that she had never asked me to call her mom.

She had found me living on the streets off of the scraps I could find and she gave me a home, food, and shelter. Through the years she helped me live my life as a mare, and she has been looking out for me much like a parent would ever since.

And yet, she never adopted me or asked me to call her mom, never giving an adequate reason for either, not that I really tried to get one out of her. Maybe she didn’t like the title, or maybe the thought of having a daughter was too awkward for her but, whatever her reasons, it never got in the way of how she treated me or of the distaste she showed whenever my biological mother was mentioned.

To me, it showed that Photo Finish was aware and accepting of her role in my life, despite the lack of titles, and that meant more to me than she would ever know.

Still, the warmth of the moment could only last for so long, especially considering that I still had that letter to deal with. With great hesitation I opened the envelope addressed to Cotton Candy, taking as long as possible to unfurl the letter held within.

Sure enough, my happiness faded as I read through the letter, to the point that all I could do was grunt and sigh in anger and exasperation by the time I was done with it..

"I take it was from her then?” Photo Finish asked.

I nodded.

“Oh, good,” she said, bitterly. “And what does she want now?”

“Same thing she always wants,” I said with a shrug. “She wanted to make sure my payment would not be late like it was last month when we had that bank error. Other than that, it’s the usual threats.”

I heard an irritated snort coming from my boss.

“And this is exactly why you need to stop hiding. They should not have this much power over you! To think that they’re blackmailing you like this, giving you all the proof you need to get them arrested, and that you are doing nothing! It’s… it’s...”

“It’s fine,” I finished for her. “I make more than enough money to pay them off and to live comfortably.”

She stood up, pacing for a bit before standing on two legs and motioning around my house.

“It’s not fine, Sty!” she exclaimed. “For the amount of work you do and the amount of money you make, you should be living in the center of Canterlot or in a small mansion close to work where you could relax and enjoy your earnings. Instead you live in a one bedroom house in the outskirts of the city while the ponies who left you a foal to die hungry and alone enjoy your earnings. It’s not right!”

Her shout echoed through my house, filling the emptiness with her anger. My composure slipped as memories from my foalhood came back, made all the more vivid by my most recent nightmare, meaning it took me a while to calm myself enough to speak. .

“I know,” I said once I regained control of my emotions. “I know it’s not right. I know I should have them arrested for blackmail, but doing so would tell everypony what I am. I can’t risk that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Until I can though, this is a price I’m comfortable paying for their silence, even if it means living on only half of what I make.”

She took off her glasses and walked to the other side of the table, sitting in front of me.

I expected to see anger in her eyes.

I expected her to yell at me about how dumb I was being.

I expected many things.

Instead, all I saw was sadness in her eyes and all I heard was a sigh filled with such heartache, that it resonated through my body.

“Do what you want,” she said softly. “It’s your life and your money. Just know that I want to see you happy, and that it pains me to see you go through this because you’re afraid that they will not understand.”

I reached out and held her hoof in mine.

“I know,” I said. “Thank you.”

The ‘mom’ was implied.

We sat there in a comfortable silence for a while longer before either of us spoke again.

“So, tell me about this mare,” she asked, putting her shades back on.

I looked through the rest of my mail, placing my mom’s letter within the stack, before responding.

“Not much to tell,” I responded. “As I said, we walked to the garden, she got close, I panicked. Not much more than that.”

“You were gone for hours,” Photo Finish said. “You must have learnt something about her.”

I took a deep breath, realizing I wasn’t going to get out of talking.

“Well, her name is Cloud Kicker,” I began. Photo Finish ‘s features shifted for a split second, in what I was sure was recognition, but she quickly regained her stoic expression.

“What else?”

“Well, she works as a part of the Ponyville weather team where she lives,” I responded. “She used to be in the military like the rest of her clan before moving away. She has a baby sister… hm.. what else? Um.. She likes sunsets. Oh, and she’s very forward.”

“Yea, I bet,” she said under her breath, chuckling as she did so. “So, when’s the next date?”

My blush returned full-force, with my groans being masked by the sound of me hitting my face on the counter.

“There is no second date,” I managed to mumble through the impact.

“And why not?”

“Because I ran away and left her in a garden,” I said, raising my voice a bit more than I meant to. “I just told you how stupid I felt for letting her close to me like that. I don’t even know if she ever wants to see me again after the way I treated her.”

“Wouldn’t taking her out on a date be a good way to make up for it?” she asked.

“Why do you want me to date her?” I asked, feeling irritated. “If you know anything about her, which I assume you do, then you know that she doesn’t ‘date’ anyway. She just hooks up with ponies and leaves them.”

“But she made you happy,” she pointed out with a knowing grin. “She made you happy and you let your walls down. I want that for you, even if just for a night.”

Something in her voice gave me pause.

I thought back to the garden before everything went wrong, remembering the happiness I’d felt, the comfort, the closeness, the intimacy.

“Maybe I should give it another go,” I thought to myself. Before I had even finished my thought, however, I happened to glance back down at my mail. The unopened letters hid my mother’s threats from my eyes, but not from my mind. Memories and nightmares flashed through my thoughts.

“No, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t risk it my secret like that again..”

I could almost feel her rolling her eyes at me that time.

“Whatever. It’s your life,” she said. “So what are you going to do about her? From what I hear she does not give up easily on mares she likes.”

“That’s easy,” I said. “She mentioned she was only here for the weekend, which started yesterday. All I have to do is avoid her today and tomorrow, which should be easy enough to do since we have those private fashion shows on both days. Then it’s just a matter of forgetting about her.”

Author's Note

Wow, I have gotten A LOT of positive feedback on this story...

Awesome :pinkiehappy:

I hope you all continue to enjoy