A Little Tight in the Chest

by doctor dapples

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 8519

After Rarity interrupts a research session at the Ponyville library, a young writer finds he has not gotten quite as far from his past as he had thought.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2011-07-14 02:22:38 UTC

Chapter 1

Roseluck took a deep breath and steeled herself for the night ahead. She had taken a number of steps in the past weeks to overcome her social anxiety, and tonight was the night when she would make that grandest of all steps. She would attend the Summer Sun Celebration, and in spite of the massive crowds, in spite of finding herself just an insignificant speck in an ocean of other ponies, she would no longer allow herself to feel like a helpless victim. The night would be uneventful for everyone else, but it would be her greatest triumph.

Dapples smiled. "One more chapter in the bag." There was a faint glow from his horn as he pulled the paper from the typewriter and placed it on top of the growing pile of his manuscript. The project was going so much better than he had expected. When Twilight had proposed it, he had accepted eagerly, but given his spotty history with such grandiose projects, he had expected it to flounder in a matter of weeks. Instead, he had been impressed at every turn by not only his own capacity to stay committed to the chronicle of Nightmare Moon's return, but Twilight's almost encyclopedic knowledge of Equestrian folklore and mythology. If ever he needed a historical allusion, it took her mere moments to find a tome devoted to a topic he had only a glancing knowledge of. And her familiarity with the population of Ponyville had opened a lot of doors for Dapples to conduct some especially in-depth interviews with members of the population who had been witnesses to the events of that fateful night. The two of them made a fantastic team. Twilight was fantastic. He might even say that he -

He shook his tousled grey head. No. He didn't think of her like that. She was too valuable a partner, and during his tenure at the paper, he had seen too many projects fall apart because partners allowed their emotions to interfere with the progression of the work. Despite his affection for the purple unicorn, Dapples had kept their relationship completely professional. They still went out for meals and coffee during work hours, but when they hung it up for the night, he went back to his apartment. On good nights, he went to the club. On really good nights, he went home with somepony else. He had one rule about these relationships: never discuss the work. He firmly believed that it was inappropriate to talk to a potential fillyfriend about something he valued significantly more than her. This is also why he never talked about Twilight Sparkle.

Dapples looked over at her. She was lost in a series of essays on ancient architecture, gathering clues about how the structure of the Castle of the Two Pony Sisters predicted the recent event. She must have sensed his gaze, or perhaps she simply noticed the silence of his typewriter, and she looked up at him. "How is it going?"

He smiled at her question. "Amazing. I haven't been this productive in ages. I'm probably going to have to go through the whole manuscript when I'm done and edit it down, just so it doesn't weigh twenty pounds." He leaned over in her direction and glanced at the architectural journals. "Getting anything good out of these?"

"It's astounding!" she beamed. "The amount of communication between the sages and the architects must have been staggering. Basically the entire prediction is built into the castle's walls!" She placed her hoof on a particularly dense passage. "Read this!"

Dapples looked at the technical text and blanched. "Actually, Twilight, I need to make a quick run to the little colt's room first. Be right back," he called as he climbed up the stairs.

Almost immediately after the bathroom door shut behind Dapples, the library's main door burst open, revealing an extremely agitated unicorn, this one with a coat white as snow and an elegant purple mane. She was breathing faster than usual, and shifted from foreleg to foreleg nervously. She carried a tape measure around her neck.

"What's wrong, Rarity?", asked Twilight.

"I'm at my wit's end, darling!" she cried. "Hoity Toity came to see me again today, and he requested another series of outfits, and he wants to see them in three weeks!"

Twilight gave Rarity a sideways glance. "That doesn't sound like too tough a deadline for you. I've seen you produce beautiful work in less time than that. Are you having trouble coming up with ideas?"

"I have a wealth of ideas, Twilight. That's not the problem."

"Then what is -"

"He wants me to make them for stallions!" She practically hissed the last word. Twilight stared back blankly, not sure how to respond. The silence was broken by Rarity's exasperated sigh. "I've NEVER designed for stallions. I've designed for myself, Sweetie Belle, my mother, and my friends. But I have no experience designing for colts. All my dress forms? They're just that! DRESS forms! For dresses! I don't make jackets, and I don't make trousers! I make dresses!"

"Well, then why don't you tell Hoity that?"

"And throw away this opportunity? Absolutely not!" Rarity tossed her head with pride, but almost immediately her expression softened and she walked over to the window. She gazed out at the citizens of Ponyville, going about their lives, oblivious to her crisis. "This is an entirely new world to me, Twilight. And I have to jump in with all hooves, but I don't even know where to start."

"Why don't you just ask a male pony to model for you?"

Rarity sighed again. "Because I don't know any colts whom I can trust with a job like this. With your dresses, it was easy. Any of you would happily come in and help me at a moment's notice. But who do I know in this town?"

"Big Macintosh?" Twilight offered, expecting the subsequent reaction.

"Hoity wants outfits made for stallions. Not giants. Besides, if you can picture him agreeing to sit in my boutique for hours and get fitted for chest-hugging vests, you've got a wilder imagination than Pinkie Pie."

"What about Pinkie Pie? We're not having another party are we?" Rarity turned around at the unfamiliar voice, and caught Dapples coming down the stairs. They had heard about each other in passing from Twilight and met once or twice, but since Dapples maintained a very small social circle and Rarity wasn't exactly a frequenter of the library, they had only a vague acquaintance with each other. "Rarity, right? You might not remember me, I'm Dapples. I'm the one who has been working with Twilight lately." He extended his hoof for her.

She just stared back. Eventually, she lifted her hoof, but to her mouth, where she very softly nibbled at her hoof, deep in thought. The wheels were turning, and as the other two unicorns looked on, they clicked into place. A smirk appeared on Rarity's face. She removed the tape measure and held it out against the grey unicorn's splotchy side. She mumbled some numbers and measured him from his chest to the floor. More numbers. Dapples looked over at Twilight for explanation, but was interrupted by Rarity clearing her throat.

"Sorry, but I have to make a few more measurements. The next few might feel a little strange, so bear with me." She flung one end of the tape measure over his side, and met it with her end beneath his belly. She mumbled a number, gave a little grunt and then softly patted his stomach. "Little bit of a haybelly, hm?"

"Hey!" cried Dapples, indignant. He was about to tell her where she could go when a movement down below caused him to jump a little. Rarity was measuring his inseam.

"No disrespect! Such things happen!" She came back around Dapples and faced him, the tape measure once again secure around her nape. She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. Dapples wanted to shrink back, but he was fairly sure the look would follow him wherever he went. Then, she turned to the purple unicorn. "Would you be a dear and allow me to talk to your friend for a moment in private?" Twilight looked at Dapples, to make sure he felt comfortable being alone with the potentially deranged designer. He shrugged. Twilight nodded and went back to her books.

"So, Dapples -" He turned back to Rarity upon hearing his name. "How are you?"

"Ummm... fine?"

"Good, good. Are you liking Ponyville?"

"Y-yes. It's very nice. I like it a lot."

"What is it that you... do?"

"I'm a writer."

The smile on Rarity's face grew mischevious. "Getting along well with Twilight?"

His eyes widened. What was going on? "Yeah. We get along okay."

She cocked her head to the side. "What do you think of her?" she said quietly, a slight lilt in her voice.

He glanced over in Twilight's direction, to be sure she wasn't listening. She was gathering together some of the books she was done with for the day and stacking them into a neat pile using her magic. She wasn't paying either of them any attention. "She's very nice." He punctuated this with a quick nod of his head. He smiled, satisfied that he had given the correct answer.

Rarity frowned, then reached out and put a hoof by the side of his head. "No. Look at her." She pushed his muzzle so that he was looking directly at Twilight, whom was now shelving some of the higher-placed books. She was standing on her hind legs, with her forelegs on one of the lower shelves. "Isn't she just the picture of feminine grace? Of poise? Of intelligence and elegance wrapped up into one beautiful package?" A particularly old book fell off the top shelf and landed next to Twilight, sending up a cloud of dust that caused her to go into a momentary fit of sneezes.

Dapples gulped. "I..." He tried to prevent it, but the more he thought about the harder it was to keep from blushing. The redder he got, the bigger Rarity's smile became. She clapped her hooves together with satisfaction.

"Marvelous!" Twilight turned too late to see the pink of Dapples' cheeks, but she was immediately cornered by Rarity, who waved her hoof at him. "Thank you, darling! Now we're going to have a little girl talk, so if you could make yourself scarce for a moment, that would be lovely!"

Dapples grabbed his manuscript and went up the stairs to store it away. His head was racing. What was all that about? At first, he had thought that maybe Rarity had been flirting with him, but she had been genuinely excited to see him fumble all over himself for Twilight. She had always said that Rarity's best trait was her generosity. Surely she wasn't going to tell Twilight how he felt? How DID he feel? He said a silent prayer to Celestia, begging for Rarity to keep her elegant mouth shut. As he slipped the manuscript into the box in the writing room, he heard the main door close. "Dapples?" Twilight was calling him.

He came down and looked around the library. It was just him and Twilight, who looked a little nervous herself now. "Everything alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "I just need to ask you something."

Here we go. "What?"

"Rarity was wondering if you'd be willing to model for her." He let out a sigh, a little bit louder than he had intended. "Whoa," she said, startled. "What did you think I was going to ask you?"

Dapples quickly gathered his senses. "I had no idea! The whole thing was just so weird!"

"Yeah, that it was. Anyway, she needs a model for the next three weeks to design a new fashion line for stallions. Most of the other male ponies she knows are in love with her, and she doesn't want somepony who is only going to take the job to get close to her. She wants somepony she can trust, and I told her I would ask you." She rolled her eyes. "She thinks that if she asked, you'd have said no, but since we've been working together, I'm supposed to be better at convincing."

He smirked, knowing the full scope of Rarity's thinking. She was pretty devious. "That's a little silly of her."

She shrugged. "Yeah, it is. But I really would love it if you could do this for her. She's always been fantastic to my friends and I, and she made our dresses for the Gala, and I would love to be able to help her out when she really needs it." Her eyes aren't exactly pleading, but there is definitely a hint of expectation in them. Dapples felt butterflies in his stomach.

"Not a problem. I'll do it."

Twilight squealed with delight and hugged him, then quickly broke the embrace and looked at him seriously. "Wait."

"What?"

"Before you agree to this, you have to understand how seriously she takes this."

"It's okay, Twilight," he scoffed. "I'll do the modeling for a few hours every day, then I'll come back here and we'll keep on with the book. It'll slow it down a bit, but I'm in no rush."

Twilight shook her head. "The book isn't slowing down. The book is on hold."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't know Rarity. If you're a part of this project, you're going to have to commit 100%. You'll be with her all day until she finishes this. If you try to do the book too, you're going to burn yourself out completely."

Dapples thought seriously about the two projects for a moment and let out another exasperated sigh. "Like I said, Twilight, the book has nothing but time. I can surely spare three weeks to help you out." She squeezed him even tighter this time.

"I owe you one!" she said, and Dapples filed the thought under 'the greatest things I've ever heard'. Then he thought back to Rarity's words when he was being measured.

"Do I really have a haybelly?" Twilight laughed and walked back to her books. He called after her. "That's not a NO!"

Chapter 2

She knew there had to be a better word for his behavior lately, but no matter how much she searched her mental thesaurus, the one she kept returning to was weird. Dapples was acting weird. Twilight had to admit that she had not seen a lot of him in the almost three weeks since he had started helping Rarity with her modeling project, her first attempt at creating a fashion line for stallions. However, on the few occasions where they had been able to rendezvous, often meeting for lunch at the cafe, he had always seemed to be just a little... off. No complaints, no scars, no glaring defects of any kind, but his behavior had some subtle variance that she was able to recognize, due to the sheer amount of time they had spent together before the modeling gig.

The example that most perplexed Twilight was his new eating habits. During breaks in writing, Dapples was usually famished and scarfed down a full meal for lunch, hay fries included. On one of the occasions that Spike had come with them, Dapples had spent the bulk of the meal stealing fries from the purple dragon's plate. The male unicorn's refusal to acknowledge the theft in spite of overwhelming evidence had frustrated Spike and amused Twilight. And when Dapples ordered coffee, he loaded it with sugar, sometimes causing it to reach a sickening syrupy consistency. But not today. Today he was taking his coffee black. He put his hooves on the plate holding his grass sandwich, cut diagonally. He pushed it across the table in Twilight's direction.

"Do you want half?" He gave Twilight a small, enigmatic smile. She smiled back. She wished she could see his eyes. The most obvious difference in Dapples was that he had taken to wearing very dark sunglasses whenever he was outside. His excuse had been "to protect my retinas from the harsh ultraviolet rays." It was a good enough explanation, and the science was sound, but she suspected that there was a reason his answer was so technical. As if he had written it specifically for her.

"Thank you very much," Twilight said while nodding, and added his half to her plate. Plain grass sandwiches were not very filling, which was fine for her. She had enough food to fill her up. But there was no way that measly slab of bread and foliage would fill the black hole that was Dapples' stomach. She coughed. "So how have you been this week?"

Dapples seemed to snap out of some sort of reverie. "Wha-oh. It's been pretty crazy at the Boutique. I really look forward to these little breaks, whenever I can get them."

Twilight smiled. She had been surprised by how much she missed his company over the past few weeks. "Tonight's the big night, then?" She was equally surprised when she looked up and saw a frown on his face.

"Eeeyup," he said tersely, sounding very much like the brother of one of her best friends. She could only guess as to what was going on behind the shades, but his face was twisted up into a way that made him look almost lost. He sighed over his dark cup of coffee and took a sip.

"HEY GUYS!"

Startled by the loud voice and its accompanying pink form that seemed to have appeared at their table from nowhere, Dapples choked on his drink.

"Oh... sorry about that! I promise I'm not trying to kill you! Quite the opposite, actually! Well, maybe not the opposite, because the opposite of killing you would be bringing you back to life! And you're not a zombie!" Twilight considered interrupting Pinkie Pie to suggest otherwise, but the earth pony was already on a roll. "No, I'm here to spread some smiles with a project I've been working on for days! See, Twilight? Not only brainy ponies can have projects!"

Twilight smiled at her hyperactive friend. "I guess you're right, Pinkie. So what's your big project?"

Pinkie produced a large pink box, again, seemingly out of nowhere. She opened it up to reveal at least a dozen small baked goods in all kinds of colors. "Cupcakes! The frosting on each one is made for a different pony in Ponyville!" Sure enough, there was a purple one with a pink streak down the middle. On the very top was a pattern of nonpareils done in the shape of her cutie mark. Right next to it was another cupcake whose pattern was more subdued, but was no less familiar.

Twilight looked up at Pinkie. "Should I just grab them?"

Pinkie laughed. "Well, you can't eat them in the box! You might get crumbs on Fluttershy's!" Twilight's horn glowed, and her magic lifted the tiny cakes out of the box, sitting hers next to her plate, and the gray cupcake in front of Dapples.

He stared at the cupcake. Behind the sunglasses his eyes narrowed. What do you want from me, cupcake? Do you want me to eat you? You think that you can show up here, copying my patterning and my cutie mark, and I'll be so enraptured with how delicious you look that I'll eat you? Dapples could feel his mouth watering and his stomach churning. The cupcake was winning.

In the meantime, Twilight had already started on hers. It was astounding. Pinkie Pie was a wizard in the bakery, but she had never tasted something so delicate before. "Wow, Pinkie... you've really outdone yourself! What's in these?"

"Rainbow Dash..." Pinkie's eyes rolled upwards towards the sky.

Twilight choked. "What?"

Pinkie snapped to. "Oh, sorry! My train of thought derailed for a moment there. Rainbow Dash brought me some clouds from Cloudsdale! The rainbows might not have been good eating, but ever since the visit to the weather factory, I've been aching to see what I could do with some nice fluffy clouds! Oh, that reminds me!" She looked backwards and yelled "THANK YOU, RAINBOW DASH!"

"NO PROBLEM, PINKIE!" came the pegasus's voice from the distance.

Dapples gritted his teeth and starred deep into the top of the cupcake, which is where he assumed was the place to stare when confronting a baked good. No. I'm onto you. I know what you're about. You're about milk and sugar and butter and more sugar. Oh, somepony will eat you all right. But it sure as hay won't be me! "Thank you so much, Pinkie Pie," he said calmly to the baker, "but I'm quite full and simply can't eat another bite."

Twilight cocked her head to the side in confusion, but Pinkie Pie just shrugged. "Okie dokie lokie!" she exclaimed and popped the whole cupcake in her mouth. She smiled at the taste of her concoction. "Mmm! I was worried that the grey icing might not taste as good as the others, but I'm glad to see I was wrong! See you guys later!" And with that, Pinkie was already bouncing down the street looking for more tasters. Twilight turned back towards Dapples to see him breathing heavily, seeming to be following Pinkie's movements. His face held a scowl.

Twilight Sparkle used her magic to snatch the sunglasses off of Dapples' face, just in time to catch his furrowed brow, before his face became one of embarrassment. "What is wrong with you?" she snapped.

His face got serious again. He pointed after Pinkie with one hoof. "She eats ALL THE TIME. Why doesn't she gain any weight?" He recoiled a little when he turned back to Twilight and saw her eyes narrowed and her mouth hanging open.

She shook her head in an attempt to compose herself, then sighed heavily. "Well, Dapples, she runs everywhere. And she does it all the time. So for as much sweets as she puts in her body, she is probably more active than any pony in Ponyville, possibly including Rainbow Dash." Then she put both hooves on the table. "But getting back to my question, what the HAY is wrong with you? If you want to act weird with your stupid sunglasses, that's fine by me. But if you want to starve yourself, that's not fine." Dapples dropped his head. "And I'm also not fine with sitting around and listening to you talk manure about my friends!"

Dapples didn't immediately respond. Instead, his horn glowed and two sugarcubes emerged from the sugar bowl and landed in his coffee, where a spoon stirred them in. He lifted the cup to his lips and took another sip. "Oh Celestia, that's so much better." He tried giving Twilight a sheepish smile, but her expression was resolute.

"I'm waiting."

"I hate being a model, Twilight."

Why did ponies keep telling her that? How does Rarity always manage to grab ponies with no experience in the fashion industry?

Dapples took another sip of his coffee. He muttered under his breath. "You would think after how long I did it, it would have been easy to remember how miserable it made me."

"Well, I guess that's just how WHAT?"

As it turned out, Dapples had been a model for years. He came from a Manehattan family which had always had one hoof in the fashion industry. His father was an entrepreneur, his mother was a socialite, and his older brother was a model who turned designer when the notion had taken him. Stepping into the world of modelling was just a natural step for young Dapples. And though his unusual patterning had caused him some pause before accepting his first gigs, his family name opened all the right doors, and he found himself on a fast track to success. There was even a writeup of him in an old issue of Gentlecolt's Quarterly, praising him as a rising star in the fashion industry. He thanked Celestia that Rarity seemed uninterested in fashion magazines aimed towards stallions. But despite the inevitability of success, he had quit.

"Why?" asked Twilight.

Dapples gestured to himself and the table. "This is what it does to me. It turns me into a pony I don't even recognize. I starve myself, drift away from good pony company, and start acting like a grade-A jerk to everyone I meet! All I did when I wasn't modelling was smoke constantly and sleep with anything on four legs." Dapples realized too quickly what he had said when Twilight turned her head away from him and blushed. He tried desperately to save face. "Twilight, I'm not like that anymore." He hung his head in shame. "I was shallow and self-centered like everyone around me. And that's why I quit and started writing."

She turned and faced him again. This time her face was one of concern. "So what are you going to do? The show's tonight, and you've both been working so hard."

He nodded. "Too hard. But I have to see this through. I've made my promise to Rarity to get it done, and I'd be the worst kind of colt to bail on her now. But after this, I'm done. No more of this nonsense. I'm not made of strong enough stuff for it."

• • •

In truth, Rarity had some suspicions as to Dapples' background. As she had assumed he was completely green, she was occasionally surprised when he displayed an unusual familiarity with the technical terms she used on a daily basis. One day she asked him for her loupe to view some slides, and before she could finish mentally berating herself for not explaining herself, Dapples was there with the small magnifying glass in his hoof. However, these thoughts paled in importance to that of the actual show she was preparing. Hoity Toity would be there at any moment.

As she walked backstage to check on her model, she smiled to herself. When she entertained the possibility of Dapples having a fashion background, she felt even better about keeping the visiting designer's identity a secret. If he had even a glancing knowledge of the importance of the guest of honor, he'd probably trip all over himself in nervousness and literally break a leg.

"Dumb fabric," she heard him mumble as he struggled into his first oufit, a coat that covered him from head to flank, but fit rather tight around his torso.

Rarity tutted. "Don't get mad at the clothes. You look absolutely smashing. You look like quite the dapper Dapples." She giggled at her little joke. Dapples smiled back. Every designer thought they were the first to make it, but Rarity was definitely his favorite of the lot. Her face became serious as she approached him. "How are you feeling?"

"A little nervous, but I'm ready to get this show on the road. How about you?"

She put her hoof to her chin, and looked thoughtful. "Honestly, inside I think I'm losing my mind. But I'm sure with your help this whole thing will go swimmingly. And after its all over, maybe you can tell me HOW you know so much about seersucker." Rarity punctuated this last whisper with a wink.

Dapples swallowed. "Well, I..." He was interrupted by Rarity's hooves waving in his face.

"Nothing right now! It will wait until afterwards. For now, we stay focused!" The sound of a bell ringing at the front of the boutique caused her face to light up. "He's here!" She reached in and gave Dapples a quick embrace. "You'll be marvelous! Make me proud!" As she moved to return to the front, she turned back towards him. She licked her hoof and slicked a stray lock of Dapples' hair closer to his horn. "Try to keep it out of your eyes, darling."

• • •

Before he walked out on stage, Dapples tried to get a peek at whom his audience consisted of. Unfortunately, Rarity had already turned off all the lights in the boutique, except for the very bright ones on stage, that made seeing anything other than white impossible. He could hear a little bit of quiet conversation between Rarity and the mystery guest, who seemed to be the only spectator, unless this was a particularly quiet crowd. Suddenly, the Junior Colts song that was his cue started, and he made his way on stage.

He suppressed a smile at the audible gasp that seemed to come in stereo from below the stage. Not only had the designer been impressed, but Rarity had been caught off guard by how well he wore it on the stage. There was some mumbling back and forth between the two as he completed his turn, and headed backstage for his costume change.

The second outfit was another long jacket, less fitted, but complete with a tie whose patterning managed to offset Dapples' own coloring, a suggestion that Rarity had both loved and been intrigued by. She wasn't the fan of pink that her sugar-ingesting best friend was, but he wore it very well, and the murmurs from the audience indicated as such. The only thing that gave him pause was when he was sure that he heard the designer, clearly a male, say something that sounded like "Wait... that can't be..." Dapples chalked it up to idiosyncrasy and went back for outfit #3.

This was an ornate vest that Rarity had crafted, similar in style to the ones worn on Winter Wrap Up, but made with a much more delicate fabric and featuring hand-stitched patterns. It also included a black cap that he was particularly fond of. This was one of the shorter outfits in the ensemble, and it only reached as far as Dapples' waist. When he stepped on stage this time, it was quieter. He wondered if he had put it on wrong. If the designer thought Rarity had designed a dud, then he was an idiot. His thoughts were interrupted as he made his turn and a male voice said, "Oh, Celestia, no. STOP."

Dapples froze in place. He wasn't sure what to do, but continuing on with the show felt ridiculous. Rarity spoke up from the darkness. "What's wrong?"

The voice seemed to ignore her. "You on stage!" Dapples pointed to himself. "Yes, you! Take that hat off!" He immediately sweeped the cap off his head and clutched it tightly to his chest, trying not to wring his hooves together. Had he just ruined Rarity's show? But something about that voice was so... familiar.

It spoke up again. "Turn on the house lights!" There was some brief hesitation, but soon enough the stage lights went off, the house lights went on, and Dapples found himself staring at a gray pony with a silver mane. Hoity Toity.

"Oh no," Dapples and Hoity said at the same time.

"I knew I recognized that cutie mark," the designer pony said, rubbing his hoof against his forehead in frustration. "What are you doing here, Dapples?"

Dapples chuckled nervously. "Modeling?"

Rarity wasn't sure how to react to any of this. Her show had just been unceremoniously cancelled, and it turned out her fashion idol and her supposedly everypony model were on a first-name basis with each other. "What is going on here? Do you two know each other?"

Hoity Toity looked over at Rarity and did something she had never seen him do. He removed his sunglasses. He pinched at the space between his eyes with his hoof as if fighting off a major migraine. "You might say that, Rarity." She looked up at Dapples, who still had a stupid grin on his face. The wheels in her head started turning.

"Oh Celestia... you're not..." she choked out the next words. "...exes." Hoity's frown turned to a small smile, and she could see him stifling a laugh. "Are you?" she continued, looking up at the grey unicorn.

"Not quite," Dapples said, and sighed heavily. Then he pointed a hoof towards Hoity Toity. "Rarity, I'd like you to meet my brother."

Chapter 3: Final

“And there we are.” Rarity spun the magazine on the table to get a better look at the picture Hoity Toity had indicated. P Magazine had been absorbed by one of the hipper, trendier Manehattan culture rags at least a decade ago, but assorted yellowing issues like the one the designer had brought were still to be found in the library of any fashion-conscious pony worth their tape measure. Rarity’s collection only went back as far as her days in grade school, years after the cover story on “Manehattan’s Most Fashionable Families”.

The picture she now looked at was labelled “The Toitys” in a very bouncy font. There stood a strong-jawed gray stallion in a freshly pressed suit with shaggy, but well-groomed facial fur. In front of him stood a small silver colt, dressed in a miniature version of his father’s suit, his chest puffed out with pride. By the father’s side was a tall, slender unicorn mare with a pale purple coat. She wore a scarf around her neck and an immense hat behind her horn. She looked not at the camera, but gazed down lovingly at the foal in her arms: a tiny dappled unicorn.

Dapples took a sip from his drink and looked out at the horizon, hoping neither of them would see him blush. When the initial shock of their surprise reintroduction at Rarity’s fashion show had worn off, the three of them had the opportunity to talk, in hopes of having a proper reunion. Dapples and Hoity had eventually settled on a picnic-style dinner in the afternoon, on one of the many rolling hills on the outskirts of Ponyville. Rarity was especially pleased to find herself welcome to the meal, as her combination of interest in Dapples’ fashion background and her desire to get to know one of her idols better had her half-scared she would have to hide in a nearby tree to learn anything. Of course, Hoity’s concept of a proper picnic was a little bit more complex than sandwiches in a wicker basket. The three of them sat at a draped coffee table whose spread boasted a variety of different dishes from which to choose, and instead of the hay stacks found at the local cafe, they had each been given a soft pillow to minimize their contact with the dirt.

Rarity read the caption underneath the picture: spirits magnate Jameson, wife & socialite Elle, eldest son Hoyt, and new addition Dapples. She looked up at Hoity. “Are they...um...well, what I mean to ask...”

“Are they still alive, you mean?” Hoity smiled. “Yes, dear, they’re still alive and kicking. Thank you for ASK-ING,” he said, emphasizing the last two syllables in the direction of his brother, who seemed lost in thought. Dapples seemed to catch the hint, but turned back all the same, his expression one of mild annoyance. Hoity, unfazed, continued. “Father keeps himself busy with the company, though he does try to leave most of the business travel to his associates. Mother had a really bad scare with her health a few years back, and had to have an operation, but she has pretty much fully recovered by now. She shows up a little later to most parties, but her charity’s in full swing. We had a very successful benefit a few months ago for EIA.”

“I actually remember reading about that,” said Dapples. “The two of you raised quite a bit of money for research. I sent a check of my own, along with my letter to mom.”

Hoity looked over his sunglasses with disdain. “And that was the last letter you sent.” As Rarity shifted on her pillow uncomfortably, Dapples’ mouth fell open. A part of him felt disgusted that Hoity had the nerve to look down at him for not keeping in touch with their parents. Another part of him recognized the truth: he hadn’t made any real effort to keep in touch. Why was that? Dapples spat out the first thing that came to his mind.

“Do you not think that I’ve been busy? What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time?”

Hoity poured himself and Rarity another glass of champagne. He took a sip and then shrugged in Dapples’ direction. “I’m not sure. You’re much harder to follow when your work doesn’t arrive on my doorstep every day.”

Finally seeing an opening for her in the conversation, Rarity decided to offer what she knew about his recent activities. “I can’t speak for all the way back, but for a while Dapples has been working on a book with my dear friend Twilight. I dare say he spends more time in that library than he does at his apartment.” She smiled mischievously at Dapples, whose embarrassed look betrayed him to his brother.

“A work in progress and a mare with a thing for books? Sounds like your idea of heaven, Dapples.”

Seeing that the gray unicorn wasn’t going to respond, Rarity spoke up again. “And for the past month, he’s been serving as my model in preparation for last night’s show. He knew a little too much to be completely ignorant of high fashion, but I couldn’t have known his connection to you, Hoity. Honestly, I’d love to know more about it.” Though she attempted to fight it, the mare couldn’t help the large smile that grew on her face. How exciting!

The sunglasses again turned to Dapples. “Do you want to tell this story, or should I?” Dapples responded by giving Hoity a dismissive wave of his hoof, then used his magic to levitate a cheese-topped cracker into his mouth. He chewed noisily. “Charming,” said the designer.

When you’re the first born son of a couple who live a very public life and whom surround themselves with members of the media, you very quickly form an opinion of life in the spotlight. For young Hoyt, who quickly adopted his rhyming nickname, it was a chance to be seen. Even as a very young colt, reporters were interested in his long-term aspirations. There were constant stories about how handsome he was, and these were just the sort of stories that photographers gravitated towards. A few widely-circulated photo-shoots, and Hoity Toity was already gaining a reputation outside of his family’s.

As a result, his younger brother had to work even less to bring in the same sort of attention, but Dapples found himself uncomfortable with all the attention. He didn’t carry the same confidence which his brother wore like a new suit. Thanks to his patterning, inherited from his mother’s side, he grew up hearing any description of his appearance coupled with the word “unconventional.” His mother and father had always told him that the word was another term for “special” and gave him something that other colts didn’t have, but he couldn’t help but see how Hoity’s perfect coloring and versatile white mane made him the darling of the fashion industry. In a half-hearted attempt to keep up, Dapples accepted the offers that came his way, and stepped further into the limelight he hated so much.

Backstage at the show for Armanei’s summer lineup, the Toity Brothers changed into their analogous outfits. Hoity was done up all in white, while Dapples sported an ensemble all in black. As the unicorn used his magic to put the finishing touches on the smoky makeup around his eyes, Hoity offered him a cigarette, as was their tradition whenever they modelled together. “Thanks,” he said, gripping it with his teeth. His brother smiled back and took one for himself.

While searching for his lighter among the paraphernalia littering the vanity, Hoity spoke up. “You know, this is my last one.” Upon finding the lighter, he silently mouthed, “aha.”

“What, your last cigarette?”

“Huh? No.” Hoity stopped for a moment and considered the thought. “Well, maybe. Yeah, I guess so.” The lighter cap flipped open, the wheel spun, and the lick of flame leaped out, igniting his final smoke. “But that’s not what I mean.” He leaned forward.

Dapples leaned his head in towards Hoity, the ends of their cigarettes touching. Inhaling deeply, the end of his cigarette caught. Dapples exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “Well?”

“I’m done modelling,” said Hoity, his expression unusually serious. Caught off guard by the news, Dapples went into a coughing fit. “A little theatrical, don’t you think?” retorted his brother, laughing.

“What do you mean, you’re done?”

“Just what I said. I’m through with this. I want to design.” When he saw Dapples’ confused look, Hoity sighed and motioned to his flank. “You see this?”

Dapples looked at Hoity’s cutie mark. The day the golden fan had appeared, he had been perplexed as to what exactly it meant, and his brother had told him to “wait and see.” Eventually, the results from the shoot were published, but all it raised were more questions. Sure, the use of fans by the photographer had been a subtle touch that had elevated an otherwise mundane shoot into something much more impressive...but Hoity himself was doing nothing new. What did this have to do with Hoity’s future?

“That was the messiest shoot I’d ever attended,” said the elder brother. “The photographer was subpar, the staff were out of control, and the designer had nothing worth showing. So eventually I got fed up and drew up the designs for those fans myself.”

Dapples smiled. “I always wondered how that old hack managed a shoot like that.”

“Exactly. That was the first time I’d ever had one of my designs photographed. By the end of the day, I knew that if I was to remain happy and in the fashion industry, I would need to stop being a showcase for other ponies, and design what I know looks good.”

“And so you start your new career after the show?”

“Oh, the wheels are already turning, darling.” Again, Hoity rooted through the pile of belongings and makeup and picked up a pair of purple sunglasses, which he put on. “This is the first step of my change in image. Pretty mysterious, wouldn’t you say?”

Dapples laughed. “You look like an idiot.” He took another draw from his cigarette, but halted as he heard a familiar voice from outside the dressing room.

“You better not be talking about me!”

Dapples quickly spit his cigarette behind him. He had succeeded in grinding it out with his back hoof when the door burst open and an orange coated pegasus skipped up to him, a huge grin on his face. Hoity answered the newcomer. “Your coltfriend doesn’t like my new look, Niki.”

Niki looked over at Hoity and rubbed his chin. “Let me see your profile.” The subject turned his head and flashed a pearly smile. “Don’t listen to him, Hoity. He wouldn’t know a good look if it bit him in the flank.” He gave Dapples a devilish smile. “Right?”

Dapples rolled his eyes and returned the leer. “You coming onto me, kid?”

Niki giggled and wrapped his forelegs around Dapples’ neck, his eyes half closed. “Always.” Their lips came together at once, and as they closed their eyes, momentarily lost in the moment. Hoity turned his head and looked at the wall, also smiling.

When Dapples pulled back from the kiss, the first thing he saw was the angry glare on Niki’s face. “You’ve been smoking again.” He tried reproducing Hoity’s prize-winning smile, but it came out more awkward and desperate than charming.

“That’s my fault,” volunteered Hoity. Niki shot him a dirty look that quickly softened as he shook his head.

“You’re such a terrible influence on him.”

“That’s what brothers do.”

Niki gave them both a quick hug. “Anyway, I’ll be getting out of your manes. I just wanted to wish you both good luck with the show. I’m sure you don’t need it.” He started to walk out, but turned to look back at Dapples. “And I’ll see you when you come home, Stinky. Sound good?”

The unicorn smiled. “I’ll be counting the minutes.” Again, Niki giggled and bounded out the door, both brothers watching the flashbulb cutie mark on the pony’s flank disappear into the hallway. Dapples turned to look at his brother and found him biting his lower lip.

“That flank,” he sighed. “How come every fashion shoot I go to, all the photographers are dirty old stallions, and you end up with somepony like that?”

“Speaking of dirty old stallions...” Dapples laughed.

“All I’m saying is that you had better be glad you’re my brother, or I would steal that one out from under you.” Hoity chuckled to himself. “Or on top of you, or wherever the hay he usually ends up.”

Dapples blushed.

“Seriously, though,” said Hoity. “You should consider quitting too.”

The younger brother gave him a sideways glance. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugged. “It’s pretty simple. We all know that you’re not having fun doing this, and you don’t have a future in it.”

“Says who?”

“Says that boring little design on your flank, sunshine.” Dapples turned to look at the drab typewriter button that had appeared after he discovered his own passion for writing. “I know Niki would understand. He’s picked up on how unhappy you are doing this.”

“We need you on stage, Hoity Toity,” the assistant pony’s voice came from behind the door. Dapples scowled as his brother removed his sunglasses and took a deep breath in preparation for his last walk down the runway.

“This is my life right now, Hoity. What else am I supposed to do?”

His older brother shook his head and sighed. “Oh dear, dear Dapples. The world is your oyster and you never fail to complain about how sharp the edges are.”

True to form, Dapples stayed on the runway, but without his brother by his side, what had been merely unfulfilling now became almost unbearable. He found himself losing patience with anypony who didn’t know exactly what they were doing. He began to gain a reputation as a prima donna, wanting it done one way and storming off if his “suggestions” (which more often sounded like commands) were not followed to the letter. For the first time in his life, he began to have difficulty securing jobs. And then the ponies close to him started to disappear. Dapples came home from one particularly grueling shoot to find a note on his bed, typed on his typewriter and rife with spelling errors. Niki had taken a job out of the city and moved his stuff out while Dapples was away. “Youre welcme to come nd visit wenn you’re feeling morr like your oldself. Maybe tyhen we caan talk. Maybe westill have someting worth saveing?” he wrote. Dapples crumbled up the letter, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers over his head. As alone as he was, he still didn’t want anypony hearing him cry.

After that night, Dapples wanted nothing to do with modelling anymore. He took a job at the Canterlot Quarterly because it would make him travel a lot to do his writing. And still every year he found himself given the task of covering the Grand Galloping Gala, because of his “insider’s perspective”. That perspective led to a notorious yearly piece where Dapples wrote scathing reviews of the fashion and demeanor of the ponies in attendance, which garnered angry calls from Equestrian elite and letters of satisfaction from more rural ponies who couldn’t attend such affairs. The Gala articles were a particular favorite of Hoity’s, and it was said that he once fired one of his designers for saying “that flankhole at the Quarterly should be made into glue.”

“Those articles were some of your best work, Dapples!” said Hoity. “You know I’ve never really understood your passion for the news, but no one else could have written something so deliciously catty! And you abandoned that, too!”

Dapples slammed his hooves on the table, causing Rarity to jump back. “You make it sound like I never accomplish anything!”

Hoity returned the gesture, leaning forward towards his brother. “You don’t! When ever it starts to get hard, you run the other way! Or you make yourself miserable and blame everything else for your problems! Your modeling didn’t make Niki leave! You did!”

Dapples slumped back onto his pillow, feeling defeated. “I just wasn’t strong enough after you left.”

“I can’t keep protecting you, brother. You’re a grown stallion, and the world is a rough place. What are you going to do when ponies don’t like your book?”

Dapples froze. He hadn’t really thought about the future of the book he was working on. What would happen if Twilight and him put all this work into it, and nopony wanted it? Or what if it did get published, and then ponies hated it? He felt suddenly afraid, as if this hypothetical situation was an inevitability, and he realized just how right his brother was. Despite his age, the world still scared him, and failure was the most frightening thing of all. Even inaction seemed a preferable alternative than failure, but of course, that just left him stagnant. Unmoved. “I’m sorry, Hoity. I shouldn’t have put that all on you.”

Hoity let out a long sigh and smiled. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Dapples. I’m your brother. I just want to see you happy. I need to know that you’re on the right track and won’t fall back into your old habits.”

Dapples nodded. “I want to make you guys proud of me.”

Hoity stood up from his pillow. “Come here, you dumbflank.” Dapples walked over to his brother and they embraced. “We’ll always be proud of you. Just check in with us from time to time. We’re always going to judge you a little bit, but that’s what families do, right?”

“Right,” he said, laughing. He was fighting back tears.

Rarity, on the other hand was sobbing while clutching one of the finely tailored napkins to her chest. “It’s so beautiful!”

Before Dapples went home that night, he dropped by the library. Twilight saw him attempt to sneak out of the door with his typewriter in tow.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, I just need to bring this home for a while.”

“We’re still on for the rest of the project, right?” she asked, a little unsure.

Dapples nodded. “Absolutely. I just have another little project to work on tonight.”

“You don’t need any help?”

He shook his head. “I think this is something I have to do on my own. Good night, Twilight.”

“Good night, Dapples.”

When he got back to his apartment, Dapples immediately spooled a piece of paper in the carriage. He sat down, thought for a moment, and the horn on his head began to glow. His magic began to work the keys.

Dear Mom and Dad, I suppose you’re wondering what I’ve been up to...

End.