What Happened Last Week

What Happened Last Week

By Mist

Segment 1

The high life; fame fortune and everypony’s attention. Not a street existed that I could cross without my flank getting eyed up and down by half of the local population. I couldn’t open a magazine without myself staring right back at me, or turn on a television without seeing my face appear in some manner. I was everywhere that I could think of, and even several places I couldn’t. Everypony wanted to catch even a fraction of a glimpse of the famous Rainbow Dash.

As much as it annoyed me to be pestered everywhere I go, part of me loved being Equestria’s top model. The cameras, the attention, the recognition; I loved it somehow. It was all just another giant challenge to me, and I could never resist a good challenge.

The perks of being famous seemed to weigh it out a lot of the time. Any restaurant I wanted to get into, I was in, no reservation. With just a flick of my tail and a smile I could win over any stallion I wanted. I never had to worry about buying things ever again either, my model agency paid for just about anything I could ever want. The best part was that all I had to do was be myself a majority of the time. I had something my agent called “spunk” and apparently the audiences loved it. I would give them a smile or a scowl depending on how I felt that day and they would eat it up. I could probably slap my name onto a DVD rewinder and ponies would probably still buy it.

For nearly four years I was the face of Poneyz Inc. I was their top model, their iconic symbol for all their latest clothing and accessories. They had even gone so far as to make a specific line of clothing based on my body structure and features, then just marketed it as “Dash’s Stash”. Coincidentally I ended up wearing a lot of clothing from that same line in my day-to-day life outside of work.

The only frustrating part about work was that it ate up a lot of my time, and there were times where I wanted nothing more than to just buck the photographers right in the teeth then head out for a drink.

Everypony always warned me of the pressure involved in modeling, telling me that with just one mistake and my time in the spotlight would come to an abrupt end. I hardly humored such ideas though; those were the words of losers; weak individuals who couldn’t take the pressure and do what needs to be done to get by.

My parents never really approved of my profession. They were always telling me that I was a step away from doing pornography, and that I was just selling my body for money and attention. That was one way of looking at it I suppose, and I had been offered to do pornography but I would never accept such an offer, too bad mother and father would never believe that.

You have to have standards to survive in the business world. I set my standards and refused to bend around them, and that’s how I became successful.

I wasn’t just another dumb bimbo that walked the runway for Poneyz Clothing without a brain in my skull. I had a face, a name, a voice and a reputation. It was important to make sure everypony knew who I was and not just what I looked like. Once you establish familiarity with your audience, they’ll accept no substitutes. The moment that happened to me, I knew I was in control of my managers and not the other way around. I was irreplaceable, and that kept them bending to my will and not the other way around.

The truth was that I was a natural at business strategies. Create a product that can’t be duplicated, then convince the masses that they can’t live without it. I must have picked up a thing or two from my mother when I was young and she was running a shop in Cloudsdayle.

“Come on Dash I need to see more emotion! You’re just waking up, and it’s a gorgeous day, but not as gorgeous as you, and you know it. You’re a majestic beauty rising to greet the day.” Reminded my photographer.

Shooter, he was the most annoying pony I had to work with. He would always ramble about nonsense when we were doing a session about what I should be feeling in each scene. I never really liked him, and there were times where I just wanted to tell him off.

For a pony that did nothing but take pictures of beautiful mares all day though he seemed very uninterested. Many of us suspected he was gay, but then again it may just be out of boredom. If you saw attractive mares all day that you didn’t have a chance with you would probably be tired of seeing them after a while.

Despite how aggravating Shooter was, he really was the best photographer to ever grace Equestria. I’ve seen him capture sides of girls that I didn’t think possible to catch on film. I was always impressed by the shots he got during our shoots.

“Shove it Shooter.” I scolded.

“Attitude, I love it!” He laughed.

He loved everything I did it seemed, but for somepony who loved everything he sure had a lot of demands.

I leaned down on the bed and pressed my chest against it with my front hooves pulling the fluffy blanket close to my cheeks. I gave an uninterested look in the direction of the camera; something that said “whatever” in my mind.

Shooter ate it up it seemed. He began snapping shots from every possible angle, even some that many didn’t think were possible. He let out a relentless wave of “oo’s” and “ah’s” as he danced around the room with his camera stealing as much of what he saw as he could.

“That’s right! You’re a bad girl, you don’t care what’s going on around you; you know you’re then center of attention!” He cheered.

He was so damn cheesy sometimes that it pissed me off.

“I’ll show you ‘bad girl’ if you don’t knock that shit off, Shooter. You’re just the brush, I’m the artist remember? So shut the hell up.” I said.

Not to much surprise he enjoyed me scolding him as well.

“Fiesty, I love it!” He growled.

“I’m serious Shooter, knock that shit off or I’m going to come over there and make you eat that camera. Just shoot and stop talking, you’re annoying the piss out of me.” I glared.

He nodded and continued to take photos without a second of hesitation. He was annoyingly over peppy about his job that much was certain.

I bit at the white button up shirt I had on and pulled it enough to unfasten the top two buttons with just the tug. Shooter stole those images the moment I did so. Leaning over the edge of the bed I put one of my hooves at an angle as if I was trying to hold onto the bed while I let the other hang freely to the floor. I put on the most childlike face I could find and let shooter capture a few more shots. He seemed very pleased with the pose.

“You never cease to amaze me, Miss Dash.” He commented.

“Keep it in your pants, Shooter.” I teased.

He laughed heartily but didn’t allow anything to halt him for even a second. He exchanged film rolls in a split second, tossing the old one into a cart behind him and snapping pictures within the same second.

I rolled over and grabbed one of the many magazines around the bed area and lifted a hind leg up placing it over the other so I’d appear to be laying in a casual reading manner. He followed my motions with his camera so quickly that I barely so him move.

“I swear all the colts must be bowing down to you, Miss Dash.” Shoot complimented.

He just didn’t like shutting up, no matter how much you tell him to.

“Yeah, but I don’t want somepony who’ll just bend to my every will because of who I am. Where’s the excitement in that? Besides I’m far too busy to have a boyfriend… Or Girlfriend.” I smirked.

“Girlfriend!? Miss Dash you’re…?” Shooter gasped.

I laughed. I knew that would catch his attention.

“Nah, I just wanted to see how you’d react. Now can you shut the hell up and let me concentrate here? How do you expect me to work when you’re distracting me all the time?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I’m sorry; I’m just captivated by how much perfection you emit into my camera. I get a little excited when I’m working with such an image of loveliness.” He smiled.

I rolled my eyes; he was just so damn cheesy that I could hardly take him seriously a majority of the time.

“You can get your lips off my ass anytime now, Shooter.” I smiled deviously.

He laughed and responded with more photos.

That shoot must have gone on for another two painfully long hours. I could only take so much of Shooter at one time.

I had gone to the Carousel Boutique, a local shop in Ponyville, after work got out to visit my longtime friend Rarity. I had made arrangements to see her sometime last week, and I’d be damned if I was going to let my schedule get ruined.

Rarity was probably the best fashion designer around, but hadn’t been fortunate enough to receive a big break yet. She had some of her stuff worn by Sapphire Shores, but nothing too major since then. Being a local shop she didn’t have the bits required to pump out the big television ads and billboards that big name corporations like Poneyz Clothing did, but her stuff was just as high quality to say the least.

It always made me feel guilty going to see her now. She had always dreamed of making it big in the fashion world, and practiced her whole life for it, while I was just some lucky mare who stumbled across the right ponies a few years back. When I first started I didn’t even know how to spell fashion. Rarity was the hard working talented seamstress, and I was the lucky fashion model now. She never has voiced that it bothered her, but I doubt that she’s never thought about it.

“Rainbow Dash, great to see you, dear. You look enchanting as always, I must know your secret.” Rarity complimented.

Four years ago I doubt she’d have said anything of the sort to me, and if she had I’d have probably bucked her in the face for it.

“The right diet and exercise.” I said.

“You must take me to your gym then.” She laughed.

“Sure, it’s right at my house.” I replied.

“A personal gym? You are one lucky mare…” She was caught in a daydream.

Sometimes I could easily let myself believe that Rarity was the model and not me, she certainly had a better personality for it. I’m sure Shooter wouldn’t mind snapping a few shots of her flank for a few hours. I laughed internally at the thought.

“I’m more interested in your mane actually.” She smiled.

Rarity had little reason to be jealous of my mane. Her mane was her pride and joy. She spent more time fussing over her mane than she did breathing. Time well spent however, as she had probably the best haircut in Ponyville.

“Oh, company salon. They use some really crazy shampoos and stuff that I’ve never heard of.” I laughed.

“Whatever they’re doing, their results are so shiny and silky… I just want to run my hooves through your hair…” She was nearly hypnotized.

She was always fawning over everything I did it seemed.

“Reality to Rarity, come back, we need you here on Equestria.” I joked.

Rarity snapped out of her trance.

“Right, sorry. Ahem… How have you been Rainbow Dash?” She smiled brightly.

“Exhausted, I seriously want to kill Shooter. That pain in the ass annoys the piss out of me every single shoot with his constant talking.” I said.

She sat down next to me gently placing a tea cup onto the coffee table, offering me some from the nearby teapot. I accepted the offer and allowed her to pour me a cup. Only a few seconds later I was taking the first sip; perfect, as always.

Rarity made the best tea I ever had, every time. She was not only a talented seamstress, but also apparently great in the kitchen. I was always curious as to how a catch like her wasn’t married yet or at least with a steady boyfriend. Then I would remember her impossible to meet standards of the opposite sex. Rarity knew that she was close to perfection, and expected the same of any partner she could possibly have.

“Must be extremely stressful working as a model.” Rarity sympathized.

“That’s an understatement…” I laughed lightly.

She giggled at my straightforwardness.

“Well, it’s all worth it at least right? I mean you’re the biggest star in Equestria right now almost!” Rarity applauded.

“This is true.” I leaned in with a smile.

“Which brings me to a question I’ve been meaning to ask you…” She got quieter.

I took another sip before addressing her statement.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Rarity leaned back with an expression of deep thought. She appeared as though she wasn’t certain how to move the conversation from here.

“I know you work for Poneyz Clothing, and you have your own line of cloths to advertise but…” She paused.

“But what?” I gave her a curious look.

She placed a hoof onto my hoof.

“Do you think you could wear around some of my ensembles? You wouldn’t have to make commercials or model for me, just wear them every now and then. Just a casual thing… That is… If you are okay with that…” She suggested.

I smiled and looked up to make eye contact with her.

“I’d be more than happy to wear your designs Rarity.” I responded.

Rarity nearly jumped off of the couch, almost taking me with her. I had always remembered her to be excitable. One might even go so far as to call her bipolar.

“Thank you so much Rainbow Dash, this means so much to me!” She grinned.

“Yeah, no problem,” I attempted to calm her down.

“You’re a terrific friend Rainbow Dash. I know you’re really busy all the time, but we should get together more often, it’s always wonderful seeing you.” Rarity changed the subject.

She was right; it was nice to be around my friends for a change. I felt nostalgic just being in the same room as her. My mind was exploring all the memories that were shared in this place together. All the dresses I modeled for her (begrudgingly), all the times I came in looking for new clothing, and all the times the gang and I would just drop by to visit our friend.

“I’ll have to drop by more often. I might be able to sneak away from the company every now and then.” I smiled.

Something happened at that moment. I saw something in Rarity’s eyes. For just a split second, I could have sworn I saw them glow red. I continued to watch them seeing if they would do it a second time, but no such luck.

“Something wrong?” Rarity questioned.

“Nothing,” I replied.

The moment I stepped into my own home it had felt like I hadn’t been able to even enter my own house in decades. Without much of a second thought I turned on the answering machine on the phone and began to listen to the messages while I wandered into the living room aimlessly.

“Rainbow Dash, sweetheart! The photos are in and you look phenomenal, just want to thank you for a great shoot and can’t wait to see you tomorrow!” A familiar annoying voiced called from the device.

Fucking Shooter just didn’t know when to leave me alone.

The second message began to play.

“Umm… Rainbow Dash…? Yeah, hi… This is Fluttershy. Just thought I’d congratulate you on winning Mare of the Month in Mare Magazine. You looked really… Umm… Beautiful… Does that sound weird coming from me? Well anyways, you looked really beautiful in those photos that they chose, give me a call back sometime if you get the chance, I’d love to hear from you… If you wanted to that is…” A soft and timid voice spoke.

Fluttershy was true to her name even over the phone. It was near impossible to carry a phone conversation with that girl. I did miss talking to her, I’d have to return that call when I got the chance.

The last message started.

“Miss Dash, this is Stitch. We’re testing out a new line and I need you to come in about three hours early tomorrow to model it for us. Counting on you.” The voice said.

I sighed.

Stitch was the CEO of Poneyz Clothing, and often when he would call me he would deliver nothing but news I didn’t want to hear, and this was one of those instances. I wasn’t too thrilled about having to come in three hours earlier considering how hard I had to work already. It was all the life of a model I suppose.

I needed just a moment of relief from the burdens of the world. I trotted over to the cabinet and dug around for a quick moment before sliding out a small red and white box. While I was at the counter I grabbed a pair of diet pills that I was supposed to take every night and slipped them down my throat. I used to gag trying to swallow pills, but I had gotten to use to downing them that I could do so without a glass of water now.

Making my way back to the couch I threw myself onto it in a lazy manner. I pulled a small white and brown cancer stick out of the box I retrieved from the kitchen and struck a match from the matchbook I kept inside the box.

Within seconds I was taking a drag of the cigarette. My mind was slowly emptying itself of worries. I could feel my body following suite.

Smoking was such a socially unacceptable thing these days that I did everything I could to hide the dirty habit. I didn’t want the public to know that I smoke, nor did I endorse it for any of my fans. It was just something I did to relieve stress. I had been trying to quit for the past month or so, which I seemed to be making good progress on. The same pack I had on the coffee table now I had for the past two weeks, and it wasn’t even a quarter gone yet. I had promised myself that when that pack was gone that it would be the last one.

I’m sure if Twilight found out I was smoking she’d have lectured me three times over by now and forced me to read every book she owned on smoking and lung cancer. Fluttershy would just go on about how bad for my health it is, but I was certain that Shooter wouldn’t care either way. He’d just find a way to make it look sexy and demand to take photos.

I was finally starting to relax when the phone broke the silence.

Begrudgingly I picked it up and answered.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Rainbow Dash?” The voice on the other end asked.

It was female that was certain, and her voice sounded familiar.

“This is she,” I replied.

“I need your help, and I can’t take no for an answer. I want you to meet me tomorrow at the outside of the café just outside of where you work, do you understand?” They demanded.

It sounded like some insane fan to me.

“And why should I do that…?” I asked curiously.

“You’re just going to have to trust me. I’ll tell you there.” They said.

“And what if I don’t?” I asked.

There was a pause on the other end.

“Then I’ll have to kill you.” They responded.

“Who are you?” I jumped.

“Be there, don’t make me come looking for you, I don’t want to kill you, but if it comes to it, then I’ll be left with no choice…” She spoke solemnly.

“Wait, what’s going on?” I hissed.

They hung up.

I tossed the phone aside carelessly.

What an odd individual. Did she honestly expect me to show up based on just that notion? I was certain that it was just another insane fan, probably trying to confess how much they’ve always loved me and how we belong together and such; wouldn’t be the first time. I couldn’t shake the “I’m going to kill you”, part though.

I took another drag and exhaled the smoke. Part of me was curious about the call and how they got my number.

I dismissed the thought realizing I needed to get some sleep if I was to come into work three hours early tomorrow. I humored the idea of perhaps smashing Shooter’s camera out of annoyance tomorrow and headed to bed.