Rarity's Tuxedo

by naikichangeling

Rating: everyone
Tags: Rarity, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3720

Rarity decides to reveal that he is a trans male.

I look at myself in the mirror. My mane and my tail are much longer than what is usual for wearing a tuxedo. The fashion show is many hours away from now, and yet as I stare into the eyes of my reflection, I feel that the mirror's image lies to me. The pony in the mirror is not Rarity. I am going to fix that.

Covered in a light blue glow, a pair of scissors floats aside my head. I pull a strand of my mane between the blades of the scissors, and with a snip, the scissors close as a purple strand of hair falls to the floor. I take a deep breath, and continue cutting my mane. I finish, and as I look at the stallion cut I gave to my mane, I can't help but think: It looks so nice on me. And why why wouldn't it?

That is what I am, after all.

Rated Teen for sexual themes. So, I’m gonna leave that there as a testament of 2015 me being ignorant. This is Rated E for Everyone.

Published 2015-03-06 06:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-22 15:52:23 UTC

I

The needle flies through the air, passing through the soft, black fabric, leaving a path of thread behind it, connecting the sleeve to the rest of the jacket. To think I planned to make a dress out of this beautiful satin, but alas, my choice is made, and I must not hide myself from the rest of this world. I have carried this burden long enough.

I turn my neck around to look at the ponyquin that held the rest of this ensemble of mine. Her shape is so much like my own. I wonder why can't I be perfect, just like these ponies of plastic, careless of such equine worries as love and popularity and reputation, content to wear the clothes that I make, without a thought to what they are. Careless of such concepts as mares and stallions, and blissfully ignorant of the silly secrets ponies keep. She looks strange in the bright white shirt of silk I put on her. After all, mares don't wear shirts, if they wear anything at all.

Then again, that is the whole point of this outfit.

I have hidden myself for far too long. I have lied to everypony I have known since I realized that I am different. Long month after month of watching them from behind a mask of normalcy, of pretending that I am just another mare. It was so easy, really. My tastes have always been feminine, so nopony ever suspected that Rarity, the clothes designer, the mare that always has her mane perfect and gets upset when it isn't, the one that wears fake lashes and eyeshadow and gets hooficures and never misses a date at the spa felt this way. That I was born with the wrong body.

I take a small cut of fabric and take hold of my scissors with my magic. Carefully, I cut it into a little black ribbon, wider at the ends than at the middle. A bowtie. I always wanted to wear one, and yet, now that I am going to, I can't help but to feel nervous. This is so big, and I feel so small and self conscious. I shall expose myself as I am to the world. I float the tie to the ponyquin and wrap it around her neck. A neat little knot, to bind this thing together.

It is done. It is done. Is it done?

No, there must be something I am missing. Some sort of accessory, perhaps a hat... Silly, spineless Rarity, looking for a way to procrastinate, to keep the mask over his face and stay hidden from the world. No, it is done. It's finished, Rarity, and you shall wear it like a badge of pride, for there is no shame in being true to yourself. If anything, hiding from everypony has been your shame, Rarity, and you shall cleanse yourself from it by doing this.

I open the curtains, and let the faint starlight through. It has been a daunting night, but now it is over. I float a sleeping mask towards my face and close my eyes.

I take a sip of water from my glass as I see the models strut over the catwalk. The epitome of physical beauty, or so I have been told. A bit too thin to my tastes, as if they were just a frame for the garments to be shown. Today is a strange day for the new line of dresses I had designed. After all, most dress lines don't include tuxedos. And it is unheard that the designer of a line models for it.

At last, the last model walks her way back to behind the curtains. She sees me, and she gasps. I wonder if she had seen a mare without make up in her life, or if it is the fact that it's me that made her gasp. I am wearing the tuxedo, so maybe that was a factor in it, too. I shake my head with my eyes closed, and walk to the catwalk. I cross the curtains.

In an instant, everypony's eyes are on me. Suddenly, every conversation had died, the only sounds remaining being my breath and the drum machine and string music that had been chosen for this occasion. I had arranged for a microphone at the end of the catwalk, and as I make my way through it, I can only wonder how will they react. I had mentioned that I would make an important announcement at the end of the show, but they could never expect what I'm going to do right now. The music stops.

I stand in front of the microphone and start speaking.

"Good evening, everypony. I am Rarity." Their gazes drill holes into my skin. Somepony gasps. "Today, as I had stated earlier, is a very important day for me. Besides announcing this year's spring line of clothes, which I very much hope you liked, I'm here to state something very important about myself."

"I have realized that I am a stallion. I realized this months ago, but I kept it to myself, out of a misplaced feeling of shame for myself. But I can't go on lying to myself, or to you. Now, you all know, and I hope this doesn't change the opinion you have of m-"

The sound of a flying fruit sounds through the air. Red juice drips down my white shirt. The silence is gone, replaced by the voices of those that had once admired me, now filled with rage and contempt as they hurl the vilest of insults at me. I look up, searching for a friendly face amongst the crowd, but there is none. I sob, as a tear rolls down my cheek, and walk back down the catwalk.

Suddenly, there is silence. I turn around. It is as if time had stopped. Everypony's face is frozen in an expression of outrage. A tomato floats in midair, just a few tens of centimeters away from me. And at the end of the catwalk is Princess Luna.

"This is a nightmare?"

"Yes, Rarity. This is nothing but a bad dream. Do not be concerned."

"How much have you seen?"

"I have seen all of it, Rarity. Ever since you fell asleep, I sensed a deep perturbation inside you. Having seen this, I can only conclude that this dream is a product of the things you told. You disappoint me."

"...what?!" I shout. "You dare come into my dreams to insult me?!"

"You misunderstand my words, Rarity. I thought that you, of all ponies, would be strong enough to not be afraid of what others would say. After all, you did not care about that when you started, as a dressmaker from a rural town, trying to make a dent in the cruel minds of Canterlot's nobility."

"That's easy for you to say! Were you in my position, it would be so easy for you to deal with people not agreeing with it! You and Celestia could just easily send them to the dungeons, or to the moon! My livelihood is threatened by the way they react! I'm a smear campaign away from losing everything I have! How am I supposed to react to such a thing?!"

"If they would turn you away, Rarity- you, the greatest clothes designer I have seen since I was brought back from the moon- for the simple fact that you are a stallion trapped inside a female body, then they are fools. I believe that they will not care, or they will pretend they don't. After all, Celestia, Cadenza and I will keep hiring you. There is little those fools like to do more than emulate what Celestia does or thinks."

Hope springs in my chest as a tear rolls from down my eye. I look into her green irises, and ask, "How can you be so sure?"

"They have always been like that. The only difference I have noticed between now and then is that now the stakes of that little game of titles and thrones they like to play have shrunk. I must go, Rarity. Close your eyes and sleep, for I guarantee you a dreamless night."

II

I feel the orange glow of sunrise over my eyes. A new day begins, a new day in a new life. I turn around in my bed and open my eyes, and rise out of bed. Today is the day of reckoning. Time to shed away this costume I wear, and reveal myself to the prying eyes of the world.

Perhaps I am being a bit overdramatic. Still, I can't help but feel as if the world itself had been lifted from my shoulders. I turn around, and look at my mirror. At times a dear friend, at times my worst enemy, today it's function would be one of purification.

I look at myself in the mirror. My mane and my tail are much longer than what is usual for wearing a tuxedo. The fashion show is many hours away, and yet as I stare into the eyes of my reflection, I feel that the mirror's image lies to me. The pony in the mirror is not Rarity. I am going to fix that.

Covered in a light blue glow, a pair of scissors floats aside my head. I pull a strand of my mane between the blades of the scissors, and with a snip, the scissors close as a purple strand of hair falls to the floor. I take a deep breath, and continue cutting my mane. I finish, and as I look at the stallion cut I gave to my mane, I can't help but think: It looks so nice on me. And why why wouldn't it?

That is what I am, after all.

I turn around and look at my tail, floating scissors at it's side, and, after a quick measure, the scissors snip and half of my tail falls to the floor. Carefully, I shape the strands of my hair to a more even look.

I'm ready. It is time to come clean.

I'm not ready yet.

Warm. The cool morning breeze was gone as soon as I entered through the doors of Sugar Cube Corner, and the heat that came from the oven, coupled with the smell of the pastries that came from it, made the air pleasantly warm for most ponies. Most ponies don't wear cloaks, though. I appear as a mysterious figure, keeping his identity hidden except for those whom he wishes to know, like a character out of a mystery novel. Still, the cloak is quite warm. I had fashioned it for last winter, which was so horribly cold, it's chill stabbed like a knife through regular winter clothes. Right now, it makes me feel as if I had a horrendous fever.

At last, my turn comes and I walk to the counter, and as I walk, I feel her gaze on me. Pinkie Pie looks at me with a friendly, if curious, smile on her face. She doesn't recognize me.

"Hello, mister! Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner! What can I get you?"

Grrr... In my haste to prepare for the events of this evening, I had forgotten to break my fast, and so this visit served a double purpose.

"Good morning, Pinkie."

"Rarity! What are you doing?! It's like 25degrees in here! Mister Thermometer told me, and he doesn't lie! Why are you wearing a cloak?"

"Pinkie, I-"

"Oh, I know! Your brush broke and you can't show your mane!"

"No, darling. I-"

"Let me try again... You're playing Hide and Seek with Sweetie Belle!"

"No, I-"

"Wait! Your plumbing started to throw green water at you again! No, that can't be it. You don't-"

"Pinkie Pie!"

She looks at me with those huge blue irises of hers, the corners of her lips drooping. I can't be mad at her. It would arise my curiosity if I saw her wearing a cloak in this heat, too.

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that, but I-"

"No, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I kept interrupting you when you tried to speak! And I just did it again! Can you forgive me, Rarity."

"Yes, Pinkie. I forgive you. There is something I have to ask you."

"What do you need, Rarity?"

"Are you free this evening?"

"I am. Mister and Missis Cake are closing early today. Around one o'clock."

I let go a sigh of relief.

"Can you help me gather everypony at the Castle? There is something I must tell you all, together."

"Of course I can! Is that why you're wearing a cloak?"

"Yes, it is. We shall meet at two o'clock."

I turn around and start walking to the doors.

Grrr...

I turn around to Pinkie again.

"Actually, can I have a biscuit, some honey, and tea, please?"

I pant as I walk through the door frame. How I managed to walk all the way from there to here without having a heat stroke, I shall never know. I take off my cloak, now smelling of sweat, and walk to the table. I float a bag and a foam cup over the table as I push a chair to the table with my hooves. As I sit, I levitate a plate and float the biscuit over it.

“...Rarity? What happened to your mane?” I hear Sweetie Belle say.

...I forgot.

"Did you hear me?"

That was today. Sweetie Belle was visiting today. How did she get in? This isn't good, I'm not ready I'mnotreadyimnotready...

"Are you okay, sister?"

The word snaps my mind out of my trance. Sister. I feel a tear run down my eye. It's okay, she doesn't know yet, I tell myself, yet I am unable to stop.

"Why are you crying?"

I sigh and try to hold back the tears, and speak.

"I'm crying because there's something I must tell you. I'm not a mare anymore. I didn't realize it until not long ago, but I never was one."

"...what?"

"I'm a stallion, sister."

Her face speaks of confusion, but as I continue speaking, some measure of comprehension appears. I tell her about everything, seemingly unable to stop myself. I tell her about the agonizing months when I was unable to embrace the truth about me. I tell her about my fear of rejection, of how everypony will react when I tell them about myself. I tell her to go upstairs, and show her the tuxedo I made for me to wear at the fashion show. But above all, I cry. I'm not capable of holding back the bottled up feelings anymore.

"It's okay, Rarity. Calm down. Everything's going to be fine." She tells me as I finish. She hugs me, and I weep on her shoulder.

"How can you be so sure? I must seem disgusting, like I'm trying to be something I can never be. How can you be so sure everything will be fine?"

She holds me tighter.

"Because I know that instead of losing a sister, I gained a brother."

Author's Note

After some six months, give or take, chapter 2 is finally here!

Also, Equestria runs on the metric system.

III

Burning bright, the sun threatens to boil me in my own sweat as I walk to the castle. Is it too much to ask for some clouds, for a change? I have left behind the cloak, wearing the tuxedo in its place, and ponies look at me as I walk through the streets of Ponyville. Do they look in shock as they see Rarity, the most feminine mare in town, walk around with an stallion's mane cut and dressed to fit? If only they knew... It doesn't matter. Look upon me, I say. Like a butterfly, I have shed my cocoon and become my true self, and the only thing left is letting the truth be revealed to those that matter to me.

I look at the horizon, the castle still a rather long distance away, and I walk.

I look on the golden doors of the castle. This is it. There is no turning back now. I knock on the door with my hoof two times, managing to stop myself before I accidentally hit Pinkie Pie when she opens the door.

"He- Holy moly! What happened to your mane, Rarity? Why are you wearing a tuxedo?"

"Change, darling. Change happened."

"...You did this? On purpose?"

"Yes."

"Why? I mean, it doesn't look bad, but, no offense, Rarity... But you kinda look like a stallion."

I look into her eyes, and smile, and as I see her pupils widen into normality, she smiles back at me.

"I don't know what's happening, but, right now, when I saw you smile, I knew that, somehow, I made you happy."

"You can't imagine how much right now, Pinkie. Come, and I shall let you know."

She turns around, and, as I walk behind her, I feel a tear roll down my cheek. As we reach the doors of the throne room, she turns around,and sees the tear in my face.

"Rarity, why are you crying?"

Unlike the last time somepony asked me that, I can answer that question now.

"Joy, Pinkie." I answer, as I push the doors open.

“Are you okay, Rarity?! What the hell happened?!” I hear a voice say. I look at them, all six of them, their faces contorted in confusion. Of all that were there, I expected Spike would be the most shaken, and I was correct. “Did you get mugged on the way here?! Why… why are you dressed like that?”

“I have something to tell you. I am not the pony you think I am.”

I always felt like something was odd, like I was putting on an act. Ever since that day, when I was a filly, and I saw it. On a ponyquin, displayed on a window for the world to see, was a tuxedo. Black satin shone in the shimmering sunlight, contrasted by a white shirt, with a red bowtie on the neck. I didn’t know how this things were called back then, I only knew that I wanted them. They were made for me to be clad on. I was in Manehatten with my parents, and they had told me that they were going to buy me one thing and one thing only.

“Mom, that… dress! I want it! I want that dress!”

“Rarity, dear, that’s not a dress. It’s a tuxedo. That’s for colts to wear.”

“I don’t care! I want that tuxedo, mom! I want it! IwantitIwantitIwantit!”

“You can’t, darling. You’re a filly. Filly’s don’t wear tuxedos. That’s how the world works. Choose something else. Something that is for fillies.”

That day I learned what the world wanted me to be. I was meant to be a mare, to be an image of femininity for the world to praise. But I always felt cracked on the inside, like a wind-up toy whose mechanism lacked teeth in the gears. No one knew how I felt, trapped like a butterfly inside a cocoon of iron, unable to break free.

My femininity was a sham. The only thing that was real was my interest in fashion. It was always an exaggeration, a caricature of a mare, tailor-made to fool the world into thinking I was normal. And most of all, I tried to fool myself. And I was almost successful most of the time.

But the doubt was always there, eating away at me constantly, until I couldn’t hold myself together anymore. That’s when I finally realized what I was, when the iron rusted away and I could finally spread my wings and show the world my true self.

Yesterday, that’s when it happened. I am a stallion. I made this tuxedo, I finally have it. I finally have become what I always meant to be, and may the world be damned if they do not want me anymore. I don’t care for their appreciation anymore.

And so, here we are.

You are the only people whose opinions matter. So I must ask you:

Can you still be my friends, now that you have seen me as I am?

"You wound us." Twilight said, her face in an expression of disbelief. "I can't believe the thought would cross through your mind."

Through the deafening silence, I can only hear my own heartbeat. All faces are turned to Twilight Sparkle's, jaws dropping in disbelief. Not even I expected that.

"I see." I hear myself speak. I turn around, and walk to the doors. But as my hoof is centimeters away from the door, I hear Twilight say:

"How could you believe that we would ever think differently about you, just because of that?"

I look back at her, and she looks at me with a warm smile. I feel a tear run down my face, and I run to hug her. As I hold her, I feel the hooves of my friends surrounding me. It didn't matter to them. It never would have mattered. I look at Twilight and say:

"But why did you have to make me walk to the doors before saying that you wouldn't change?"

"Well... You are a rather melodramatic pony, Rarity. I felt it would be appropriate. You did make the tux before coming out. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"It's alright, Twilight. There is nothing to forgive. You support me, and that is all that matters."

Surrounded by my friends, I know that nothing could hurt me now. I don't know what the future keeps for me, but I know that I am ready. Because now I know that, no matter what, there will be somepony to watch my back.

I'm not alone anymore.

"Wait, Rarity. Didn't you have to go to a fashion show in Canterlot?"

Author's Note

I actually finished a story. For the first time in three years I've been in this site, I finished a story. Granted, it took me 8 months, and I only wrote like 3500ish words, but still, I am proud of this.

I really hope you enjoyed this story. Thank you all.