Interlude: Boutique

The sky was grey with clouds as Twilight stood in front of a familiar two story building in Pinnsmith’s Market Square, looking at the sign that hung at the top of its front door, ‘Diamonds and Pearls Boutique’. The door was closed, the blinders were down and the building itself seems terribly unlit. To some other person, this might have told them that no one was home, yet for Twilight, she knew that the tailor she was looking for was definitely inside the building. She knew for she felt an atmosphere push down on her, a gravity unexplained by physics.

Twilight could not tell why she had these sensations, even more why it seemed to be a constant whenever she was within the vicinity of a growing list of people that included Miss Phoebe, the newest inductee being a girl named Janice Allen. It didn’t cause her discomfort, only that it felt odd, yet natural. At first she thought that maybe it was something emotional. Yet after considering the people that prompts this sensation on her; that theory’s only destination was to be thrown out the proverbial window.

With an exhalation, she knocked on the door. Sure enough, Phoebe opened the door, her eyes widening at view of Twilight at her door.

“M-miss Sparks, I was not expecting you. What brings you to the boutique?”

“Yeah, sorry for coming unannounced. I probably should have called first,” Twilight answered, rubbing her nape. “I’m just here to pick up the rest of the uniforms. The days have been kind of hectic so I wasn’t able to pick them up earlier.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Please come inside and close the door, just give me a few minutes to prepare them,” Phoebe said, opening the door wider before turning towards the stairs.

Entering, Twilight closed the door behind her and walked towards the second door of the first floor, the usual place where she would wait as Phoebe worked. Yet as she reached for the knob, a hand grabbed her wrist with surprising force that it made her bend and wince.

She turned towards the owner of the hand and saw Phoebe looking at her hand, a panicked expression on her face.

At the moment of eye contact, Phoebe instantly withdrew. “I... I… I’m so sorry!” She immediately apologized, bowing her head at Twilight profusely. “I-it’s just that… I just did some pest control in that room. The fumes are still fresh and highly concentrated, that’s why I had to stop you.”

“I-it’s… alright. You just caught me off-guard is all,” Twilight hesitantly answered as she gave off a shaky smile, massaging her wrist, seeing the redness left behind by Phoebe's grip.

Phoebe looked at the bruise, her face that of worry instead of its usual lethargy. “Oh dear. Please follow me upstairs, Miss Sparks. We need to take care of that.”

“It's ok, Miss Phoebe, I'm fine,” Twilight answered, stopping the massage, only to wince again after swinging her arm down.

Phoebe stepped forward, closing the gap between her and Twilight, staring at her with conviction, enough to make her shrink. “You are hurt, Miss Sparks. And I am the reason why. So I insist you let me do something.” She then slowly reached out for Twilight's hand and gently moving it up to her face. “I believe I have some ointment in my bedroom. We'll apply some there, and you can wait there while I get your uniforms ready as well.”

Twilight could only look with amazement at her and not a minute later found herself sitting at one of the sides of Phoebe’s bed, her wrist feeling cool due to the ointment.

Her eyes were roaming the four walls of the room, gawking at the design of every nook and crany. She then turned to the bed she was sitting on, a beautifully crafted canopy bed with a king-sized mattress and silk curtains and blankets. There was no denying the luxuriousness of Phoebe’s personal quarters. Yet just as everything else in the building, they showed signs of neglect.

Twilight continued to rub more ointment on her bruise when something to her side caught her eye, a face-down ivory picture frame set on top of bed stand.

Normally, this wouldn’t have been an item of interest. However, in all of the hours Twilight has spent in the building, she has never once seen picture in display aside from a few artsy paintings.

With curiosity winning over, she slowly reached for the frame, and when the image was in full view for her, her eyes widened and almost dropped the frame in surprise.

The picture was taken in front of the town library with a banner reading, ‘Grand Opening’. A younger looking Phoebe was smiling with content and happiness as she embraced a man who was also embracing her from behind, a man who looked like an older, chestnut haired human Spike.

The door opened and Phoebe stepped in with a bowl of ice in one hand and Twilight’s uniform in the other, surprise at the image of Twilight looking at her with the ivory frame in hand.

Phoebe looked down on the floor, her expression faltering into sadness. After a second however, she smiled, her eyes still to the floor.

“His name is David Wilson. He is my fiancée.”

At that, Twilight had to swallow. She has conceded the probable fact of Spike and her having earth counterparts. Yet, never did she consider the idea of meeting them. However, Phoebe’s relationship with Earth’s Spike, or rather specifically, what it can mean for Equestria’s Spike, made Twilight’s heart tighten.

She shook her head and saw just how flimsy her grip was on the frame. Putting the frame back on the nightstand, she tried her best to recompose herself before regarding Phoebe.

“What's he like?”

Finally, Phoebe turned back to Twilight, a twinkle of reminiscence in her eye. “He is the most persistent man to ever live. And yet, he’s also the most gallant, generous and kind-hearted knight I’m glad to give my heart to.”

“He sounds amazing,” Twilight answered, her own Spike popping into her mind. “Why haven’t I seen him? Where is he now?”

“... He is… away... on business,” she started, her expression faltering very slightly, yet just enough for Twilight to notice. “Don't worry, Miss Sparks, when he comes back, I'll make sure to personally introduce you.”

Twilight faked her smile once more. “I look forward to it.”