Coco Doesn't Take Manehattan
Working with Rarity has been fantastic! She's been more than kind in both word and deed, and while the job's not really any different from when I was working for Suri Polomare, her behaviour has made it so much more pleasant. It's really nice not having to walk on eggshells all the time. One time, I even tripped and spilled coffee right on her backside, and I thought she was going to kill me, but no. She apologized to me for leaving her things around on the floor! Rarity is officially my best boss ever! Also the most resilient. I've never seen anypony back at work so shortly after receiving second-degree coffee burns where nopony wants second-degree coffee burns.
Okay, sympathetic cringing aside, I have a problem tonight. I've been sacking out on the floor of Rarity's place since I started working for her. Not that I told her - and I always made sure to wake up before she and her sister did; if I asked her for a place to stay the night, she'd probably buy me a house or something else ridiculously unearned. The job's done now, though. She doesn't need me for anything else, and I've had to return to Manehattan. Rarity, in particular, paid me way more than I could possibly deserve, but I can't afford to stay anywhere. Without her, I'd be broke in another couple of weeks! I only have one place to sleep, here, and that's a maybe.
My not-much-of-a-choice is: I can curl up in an alley somewhere, or ... or I can try to go back to Suri. I'm pretty sure she's going to kill me for running off, and for giving that trophy to Rarity. I don't know how she even convinced the judges to let her "deliver the trophy to its deserving recipient, okay." I guess that's what she means when she says she has a way with words and I don't. Still, I don't want to die.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
I try the buzzer before knocking on the door again, my hooves shaking. Why did I have to do this so close to Winter? The cold had really started getting to me around midnight, which was also when even the latest stores and restaurants closed. I thought before that I could maybe get through the night, but as the lingering warmth from the bookstore I'd been napping in faded, I found myself shivering uncontrollably. Now I'm here, trembling in the cold, and trying to get into the most dangerous house in Equestria: Suri's.
Once more, there is no answer. It's no use. I curl up in the corner where the wall meets her steps, using my saddlebag as a third wall, trying to conserve the last of my warmth and get out of the chilling breezes. Only then does Suri finally open the door and, apparently seeing nopony, start to demand to know who's been knocking, cursing at "pranksters" and "foals these days."
"H-hi," I stammer out, as much from fear of her as the cold. She frowns at me, and I cringe, shutting my eyes tightly. This is it. She's going to kill me now.
"Get inside, Coco," she snaps, retreating out of sight. I start to stand, still trembling, and wonder if this was really a good idea. "Now! You're letting the cold in!"
Her tone strikes a familiar and commanding chord with me, and I dash inside as quickly as I'm able, shutting the door. When I lock it is when I realize my mistake: I've gone inside, away from the public eye, with a mare who is going to kill me. I'm dead. I can imagine it already. She's going to shear off my mane and tail, and wear them as wigs. Then she'll put my eyes into a doll, and cut off my cutie mark so she can wear it herself. I'll be slowly dismembered and -
"Where have you been?" Suri's anger breaks through my imagination, and I cringe. There isn't much point in lying to her, though.
"I worked with Hoity Toity on his new fashion line, then I got a letter from Rarity to work for her on - "
"You didn't." I cringed at Suri's deadpan tone. That always came before she did something scary, but I'd already admitted what I'd done.
"I went to Ponyville and worked for her. She was nice, and paid me a lot to help her out." I keep my eyes shut. I don't want to see what's coming. The smell of coffee invades my nostrils, and I know I'm going to die. Wait, coffee? I blink. Suri's holding up a steaming mug.
"You look half frozen. Come in and sit down." I take the cup's horizontal handle in my teeth and follow Suri to the living room, making my way to the sofa across from her easy chair almost by habit before shifting the coffee to my hooves and warming them. "So, Coco, have you figured it out yet?"
"Have I figured what out yet?" I'm not sure the coffee isn't poisoned, so I just continue to let it warm me by holding it.
"This world, Coco. You run away talking about 'friendship' and 'doing what's right,' and a month and a half later, here you are again. Except this time, your 'friend' threw you out on the streets and I take you in as a walking icicle. How's that friendship working out for you?" I stare into my drink-slash-hoof-warmer. Is she right? There's something about this coffee, though. Something seems off, something important...
"Wait, you made me coffee?" Suri 'hpmh's at me.
"I got used to making my own. My only assistant running off didn't change all the orders I have to fill, okay." For the first time - probably because I have been trying not to look at her - I notice the bags under her eyes. They even have their own bags. That's what's wrong: Suri is exhausted. I don't think I've ever seen her like this before.
"I'm sorry," I mumble. She'd had me to handle her day-to-day needs, even some of her business, before. She's obviously suffering for trying to do the work of two mares. Unfortunately, I know the difference between her smirk and her indulgent smile. What she does is smirk at me, and I realize I fell into her guilt-trap.
"So, let me guess. You want to come back, have a place to stay, work for your keep again, learn a bit from the best so that maybe, one day, you can--"
"No." Wait, what? I don't--
"What was that?" Her tone is dangerous, but I realize I can't stop myself. Too much is coming up, all at once, and I can't hold any of it back. It stampedes over my defenses and straight out of my mouth.
"No! I'm not going to work for you! I'm tired of the way you yell at me. I'm tired of wearing your coffee at the slightest mistake. I'm tired of the way you manipulate everypony! I'm tired of the way you manipulate me!" She leans back in her chair, seeming almost blasted backwards by my outburst that just won't stop coming. "I can't stand your cynical nastiness, and I won't let you hit me when you think nopony's looking anymore!" I had thought the latter was just normal, until I worked for Hoity Toity, and then Rarity. Now I know that her excuse of stress isn't normal. When Rarity stressed out, she would just get dramatic and cry a lot; Hoity Toity simply retreated to his private room and said nothing to anypony.
"I'm tired of you sneaking into my room and going through my things! Did you think I wouldn't know? I'm done having you creeping into my room at night and--" Suddenly, I'm on the floor, and Suri's standing over me.
"Why, Coco?" Her furious glare, and the too-familiar feeling of the side of my mouth starting to puff up from a heavy blow, more than cancel out the hurt tone that I'm now sure is fake. "I gave you everything I could, okay. I offered to give you the same again. What am I supposed to do when you throw my generosity back in my face? I've given you practically your entire life, Coco! Is this how you repay me, by yelling and accusing me of all kinds of wild fantasies?"
"Is this how you repay me for years of hard work as your assistant?" I ask, turning my head to show how quickly my muzzle is swelling. I hadn't properly made the connection before, but now I can see it clearly. She doesn't want an assistant or an apprentice. She wants a servant. Maybe even a slave.
"I... oh. Oh no no, it's happened again. I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to hit you, sweetie! I promise! It's just that ever since your father left, you just make me so angry. You know how I can be! I try to restrain myself, okay. You know I'm working on it, but you just keep provoking me!" The hard part isn't ignoring her excuses. It isn't knowing she'll just do it again and again, apologizing the same way every time. It isn't even that she inevitably blames me. It's the way she's crying. Her tears are real.
"Mom, get off of me." She steps back, and I get back on my hooves. I know what I have to do, and that somehow makes it even harder, but there's only one way this thing is going to end for good. I head for the door, each step a struggle with the knowledge of what it will mean.
"Where are you going, Coco?" She's not angry. She's afraid now, not that she has anything to fear from me. "Are you going to tell the police? Please, I'm--"
"No. I'm not telling anypony. I'm only telling you one single, important thing." I don't look back as I open the door and step outside. "Suri Polomare, I don't have a mother."
I kick the door shut with a slam before she can reply, before she can twist my emotions and make me come back, and I run.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
It's been what must be hours. I'd finally found a spot between two apartment complexes that wasn't too windy, thanks to trees on either end of the alley, and settled down under a discarded newspaper. I'm still crying, as quietly as I can, and I can feel the sting of tears freezing to my face, plucking hairs whenever I so much as twitch.
Why am I even doing this? I couldn't put up with any more of her, but is freezing to death better? I can almost believe it. At the same time, I can't. She never hurt me as badly as the cold is. I can't feel the side I exposed when curling up anymore. I probably have frostbite, I'm probably going to freeze to death, and the ice of my tears will make sure everypony knows I went out like a foal. Still, I know I can't go back now, not even to get my things. That bridge is thoroughly burned.
But Manehattan is waking up. Peering out beyond the trees - a cement canopy shields me from the sky, and it from me - I can see it's beginning to get light.
Did I really just make it through the whole night? With pages of newspaper draped over my back like a coat, I creep forward, peering out from under the branches separating me from the street. Taxis are starting to tear through the streets, somepony is selling the early paper, and a few ponies are passing by on the sidewalk. I discard the paper, stepping out into the sun. Its warmth is something I'm happy to bask in. I turn to face it, and shut my eyes, feeling its gentle heat on the lids...
"Gah! Where'd you come from? Out of the way--" For the second time, I suddenly find myself on my back, several meters further down the sidewalk and hurting all over. I struggle to get up. Apparently, I was hit by ... a taxi?
"Oh gosh, ma'am, I'm so sorry ma'am! I didn't--" A door opens and shuts. A coach?!
"Miss Coco Pommel! Are you quite alright?" I poke myself in a couple of places where it hurts more, and wince. Nothing seems broken, so I nod.
"I should be - Mister Toity?!" What were the odds I'd literally run into - well, be run over by - a friend? Hoity Toity puts a hoof to his face and groans.
"I do apologize, Miss Coco. Speedy Fare," he says, turning his attention to the driver and putting his hoof back down, "I have told you quite enough times that sidewalks are not highways. You are fired. Take the coach back, take your severance pay, and leave."
"I'm sorry sir, I--"
"Get!" The coach pulls away, and Hoity helps me finish getting up. "I say, was that lovely puff-up my chauffeur's doing?"
"N--" I hesitate. Actually, I can use this. No. I can get under his skin and work a favor out of him - a rather powerful pony in the fashion world - or maybe even another job! No! I can't let myself freeze again. I need food, I need a place to stay. I will not be my mother. I also will not die of cold. I calm myself.
"Well, yes," I say, cursing myself. "It's not a big deal, I can take care of myself."
"Nonsense!" cries Hoity, mortified. "What say we discuss how I can make it up to you over breakfast?"
"Well, if you insist..." I look away, trying not to reveal my shame as I trot after him.
