How It Started And Why It Hurt
Rarity cried at her bedside, her tears formed a river that went on for miles beyond her small bedroom. Her horn lit up every now and then to make an attempt to dry her eyes, before the tissue she used got soaked and she couldn’t stop herself from bleeding out more and more salty tears. Her cat, Opal crawled over to her side, trying to comfort her, but the tears shot out of Rarity like a sprinkler, blocking the cat from getting anywhere near her.
Rarity made one final attempt to get herself back on her hooves, and tried to forget why she was so upset. This was certainly the worst that could have ever happened to Rarity, for real this time, but only for one reason long, long ago.
Rarity was little, her eyes were roughly twice the size of her round white head. Her mane was perfectly straight and her cutie mark was nowhere in sight. In fact, nopony her age had a cutie mark. She never would think to get on at this age. It was all just for fun.
Rarity was at her desk, rolling pencils around with her hooves and if she had the energy or the patience, she’d try at moving it with her magic, but never to any outcome. The teacher rambled on and on about the talent show coming up. That didn’t matter to Rarity. Everything was normal to her, there was no need for more homework than she already had. Besides, she didn’t even have any talents to present. She was lost to herself. She was unknown and had absolutely no idea who she was. “If I were in the talent show, I’d be an actor,” she’d often think, “I’d play the greatest fence-post in Equestria, ‘cause I have nothing else to do.”
Frustrated with the teacher’s useless ramblings, Rarity stretched-out on the chair with her front hooves forward and her tongue just about hanging out, but the teacher kept rambling and rambling and rambling… It was time then. Rarity finally sat up and stretched out her hoof to the teacher.
“Yes, Rarity?” asked the teacher several moments later.
“Can I go to the bathroom?” asked Rarity, trying to find a way out of having to listen to this conversation.
“Rarity, are you trying to get out of another one of my “ramblings,” again?” cried the teacher having caught on to the matter of fact that Rarity only asks to go to the bathroom when she is talking nonstop about the talent show.
“Um… No?” responded Rarity as politely as possible.
The teacher gave her a stern look before finally cutting to the chase, “If you’re so against this, Rare, then go sit out in the hall and I’ll tell you when you can come in.”
Rarity hated being called that. Her full name was Rarity, not Rare. She could swear that the teacher only called her that because she hated being called it. “What would a pony named Rare even look like?” thought Rarity to herself as she exited the room, glumly. A couple of colts whispered to each other, staring at her, blankly before giggling.
Rarity gritted her teeth. She hated them. They were always making fun of her and right now, they were just adding to an already painful moment.
Finally out of the room, Rarity sat against the wall and stared down at the ground and began to count the tiles: 1. 2. 3… Rarity’s face drew over, looking up and down the hall, trying to find something to do, and trying not to listen to the annoying sound of that teacher talking obsessively about that stupid show.
“What are you out here for?” asked the voice of a colt off to the left of her.
Rarity looked up, startled to see the face of a grey colt with a blank expression staring back at her.
“Um… I was just…” Rarity began, trying to remember everything that just happened before she was startled.
“Oh, I see, well I’m out here for speaking aloud in class… If it weren’t for those uniforms…?” started the colt about what he was convicted of, “If you care to know.”
Rarity nodded, getting some amusement out of the conversation.
“What is it that you’re out here for…?” he questioned.
“I was just… trying to get away from the…” Rarity looked up into the colt’s eyes and tried to make herself sound as decent as possible. The colt was easily at least five years older. There was no need to hurt her reputation any more that it had been by revealing all of herself to an upperclassmen, “...Annoying conversations inside.” Rarity amused.
“That’s an interesting excuse,” said the colt, “My teacher…”
“Wait!” interrupted Rarity.
“What is it?”
“I wanted to know about the uniforms you mentioned earlier, what did those have to do with you being here?”
“Oh, well those are just for the school talent show coming up. The teacher asked me specifically to make them and I’ve just been having some trouble, but the teacher never lets me speak to her in class about them before sending me out here…”
Rarity nodded, taking in what the colt said.
“You though, you could probably help. How old are you?” He wondered.
“I’m eight!” squeaked Rarity, optimistically.
“You’ll do.” responded the stallion, starring slightly into the mare’s eyes.
Rarity got nervous. She didn’t want to make a fool out herself by failing at making clothes for a talent show and she certainly didn’t want to look like a fool in refusing to do it with somepony as old as him, that could easily pull together a group of colts to make fun of her from now until she’s his age. Rarity hated the idea of being made fun of by ponies twice her size and then having that trend continue for as long as ponies his age can make a name like “Lazy or cowardly Rarity” last for.
“I’ll do it…” responded Rarity.
“Great,” responded the colt.
“But I have one question before I start,” asked Rarity.
“What’s that?” asked the colt.
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Toity,” responded he, “Hoity Toity.
And now fifteen years later, Rarity lays on her side, remembering the past. She’d disappointed her mentor who didn’t even remember her. She’d worked so hard for her friends that let her down. The tears oozed out without a barrier to stop them, now. If it were anypony else that had judged her work, it’d be fine, but not him. Not the reason she was who she was. Hoity had judged her and all of her work and hated it, and that was the worst possible thing.
Author's Note
Just a background story I whipped up. Rate it whatever, I don't care about the ratings on this one, it's just something I thought of.
