My phone was silent in my hand. I rested my head against the window and let the streets roll by.

Ringo drove. We'd spent most of the day rehearsing in his garage. With all that had been going on lately Flash Drive hadn't had many chances to practice our regular sets. The others got back into it easily, but it only took us an hour to realize that my head just wasn't in it. I caught my bandmates glancing at each other whenever I looked back, but they didn't say anything. I kept playing, searching for something in my guitar that was usually so easy to find. It just didn't happen.

I felt like I was burning up inside. Plain and simple. And it hurt worse because I knew I had a perfect life. I was the best at everything I did, had my own band, the best friends in school, and now, somehow, two incredibly hot girlfriends who were so into me they'd change their own destiny for me. I got all the benefits of magical adventures without ever having to leave the sidelines and had total confidence in the safety of this town. People stopped me all the time to tell me how lucky I was or ask me for my secrets. It would have felt like a betrayal to tell them that it seemed like all I ever did was constantly worry.

I knew what Twilight was like behind closed doors. Her pain was my burden to bear. Her job was to keep the world safe, and my job was to save her; at least, as much as much as a boring, non-magical human like me could. This was normal now. It wasn't ideal, and I knew that I could never really be a part of her world, but we were happy. But then the other Twilight had made her grand entrance, crashing her train wreck of a life into us both, with Shimmer following just after. And then Sunset...

Everyone reacted to what Sunset kept doing to herself differently. I got angry. Maybe that was selfish, and it hurt me that I knew it was selfish, but she had other friends to look after her. I could be furious enough for all of them. Rage, envy, concern, despair; all four of those girls burned inside me like individual furnaces, fighting each other for my attention. On other days I could have used this as fuel for a new song, but what came out of me with each strum of my guitar was barely even music. It was just loud. And no matter how loud the notes got, they wouldn't carry me away.

It was mid-afternoon when Brawly stood up from his drums and dragged me off to the side, away from our captive audience of Ringo's little sister and her stuffed rabbit, and made me sit down. "Look dude, maybe you should just go home," he said.

"No, I can get this," I said, fumbling over a complicated riff for the ninth time.

"No, you can't. This is just stressing you out, dude. You need to relax."

"I am relaxing." I glared at him, but couldn't hold it. "Look, I just... I just need some time, okay? I've been going through some heavy stuff lately."

He leaned against the wall next to me. "I know, bro. We heard about Sunset Shimmer. And look, it sucks that your girlfriend's BFF tried to kill herself, but-"

"She's my friend too!" I snapped loudly.

"Whoa. Okay, jeez." He inched sideways across the wall. "I just thought you two weren't talking. You know, since..." He put up his hands and raised two fingers on either side of his head, like horns.

"...Yeah." I looked down and played a few notes, turning it into a familiar tune. "We're not close. But I still care about her. I mean, I dated her for close to a year. You get to know someone pretty well in that time, even if they're hiding something. You know she's the reason Flash Drive even exists?"

"No kidding?"

"Yeah. She's the one who encouraged me to keep working on my music. Without her, I probably would have put all my time toward trying to get into the police like my dad." On automatic, my fingers played through the first tune I ever taught her. "I mean, I worked out later that she was just trying to get me to give her guitar lessons. But it worked out. The only time she seemed like a normal girl was when she was holding an instrument. You know, laughing, making mistakes, actually smiling at me like she meant it. That was the only time she ever kissed me, too." The song ended. I slid my guitar off my shoulder and rested it in my lap. "That's how I try and think of her now, anyway," I said. "Like someone who's basically good, but needs the right reason to let it come out. She just makes it hard. Sometimes I wish I could actually take her up to the loft like that again, jam like old times. You know?"

Brawly was starting to look uncomfortable. "Hey man, does your girlfriend know you're talking about another chick like that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you have no idea what Twilight lets me get away with. If I told her I wanted to have sex with Sunset right in front of her, she'd probably set up the date herself." That had started as a joke, but it came out more bitter than I meant it. I dialed it back. "Besides, I don't know if I could even stand to see Sunset right now. I'd probably just shake her up. I mean, I know she's in a different place than she was when she... you know." I put up my fingers into horns. "But it's hard not to get mad at her. We keep giving her second chance after second chance, and I know she's just trying to repent, but it feels like she's just turning around and spitting on everything we've tried to teach her." I took a deep breath. "And Twilight's worried sick about her. The hospital cleared her this morning, but Twilight's barely slept thinking about a relapse. Whatever the other Twilight said to her might happen again, and no one's heard anything from her either. Plus Shimmer's still out there, and-"

"Whoa, whoa. Dude, this is exactly what I'm talking about." Brawly put a hand on my shoulder. "You can't keep holding on to so many other people's problems. You're only gonna drive yourself crazy. Before you can help anyone else, you gotta do you first."

"How can I?" I grumbled at him. "Everyone I know has bigger problems than I do."

"Do they? 'Cause it sounds like you've got as much reason to be mad about Sunset as anyone else." He flicked my head and massaged my shoulder. "You're not a sponge, dude. You can't be upset about something for someone else. It doesn't work that way. Let your girlfriend do her thing, and you work out how you're feeling. Then, when you've got that sorted out, you can start working on her."

I hesitated before answering that. It did sound like a good plan. But that was the thing about Brawly; most of his plans only sounded good. "It's not that simple," I said. "For Twilight this is about more than just Sunset. The last thing she needs right now is more people vanishing on her."

"Isn't this the chick who basically wrote the book on friendship? She'll be fine. She's got backup. And you need backup, man. She's not some dragon you've got to slay on your own. You need someone you can talk to, too. If you just charge in without knowing what you're doing, then..."

He gestured, and I followed his hand. On the other side of the garage, Ringo had been dragged into the other chair by his sister and was attempting to explain, in words a seven-year-old could understand, what had happened to Sunset and why I was upset. Judging by their faces, neither side was taking it very well. "Okay, point taken," I sighed. "I guess I still need to work some stuff out. She'll understand that." I gave Brawly a hard look. "And for your information, I do have someone I can talk to. Twilight cares about how I feel. We look out for each other, not just me for her."

Brawly nodded hesitantly. A higher tone came into his voice, suggesting that he knew he was edging onto dangerous ground. "Yeah, I believe you, but, like... do you talk to her?"

"I..." My voice caught as I rapidly thought over our conversations these past few weeks. Then months. Then over the whole year. "I... don't have to," I decided, opting for something poetic. "Just being with her is enough. When she's around, she makes all my problems seem like nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing from where I'm sitting, dude."

"Well... well what do you want me to say?" I snapped. "Should I just not be there for her any more? Every week, she has to deal with monsters, demons, culture shock, homesickness, clones of her old friends, some messed-up kind of body dysmorphia and the fact that everyone on her homeworld might be dead. The worst thing that ever happens to me is when she tells me about all those things. If she can go through all that and still commit to a relationship, what does it make me if I can't even give her someone to lean on?"

Brawly's fingers drummed thoughtfully over my shoulder. "Is that how she makes you feel?" he asked. "Like you're just someone for her to lean on?"

"What? No, I..." My own fingers throttled the neck of my guitar. I tried again. "She's worth it. Okay? She's magical and she's wonderful and she's worth it. You're just going to have to trust me on that."

"Sure, your mouth is saying that. But I've been listening to your music from the beginning, dude. I know when something's eating you. And every time you come in here with a smile that says 'I finally got some last night' your guitar starts saying 'please, please, someone take me out back and shoot me.'"

I held Fortuna protectively. "So?"

"I'm just saying, you've got to talk about this. You can't keep going back to someone who's making you sad. Take a break. Figure out where you want to go. And..." He gulped. "Maybe, if you spend some time on your own, you... might start to think about other things. Things you might not have noticed otherwise."

I twisted around, glaring hard. "What are you implying?" I said.

He backed off, raising his hands. "Nothing, man, nothing," he said. "Twilight's a good kid. We'd all be zombies without her and I'm really, really happy for you. But remember Lemon Zest?" he pressed. "Remember how I was the last one to notice how much of my time she was eating up? Chicks mess with your head, man. They make you forget that there are other things that matter. You stop seeing what's really going on."

I stood up angrily. "And what is it about Twilight that I'm supposed to be seeing?"

"Not her, man. You." Brawly did his best to give me a stern look. "Look, you know I'm only saying this because I love you, but sooner or later you've gotta accept that you've got a thing for damaged chicks. And that's all right, but you need a better way of dealing with that than what you've got going on. Because in another three years, I don't want us to be having this conversation a third time."

I just glared. We stared each other down, testing the waters while the candles inside of me slowly solidified into something heavy and chilling. Even the pair across the garage went quiet, staring at us with mouths open. "Oh, snap," Ringo's sister whispered.

I turned away. "I'm going home," I said. "Don't wait up."

Brawly released a breath. "Yeah man, sure," he said. "Take as long as you want."

I unplugged my guitar and put it in its case. Just as I picked up my backpack, it buzzed. Cursing silently to myself, I pulled out my phone.

Two missed calls. Both from Twilight, two minutes apart. One incoming text message. I read it once. My gut tightened into a rock.

"Almost there, dude."

Ringo's voice startled me. I almost busted my nose against the van's window coming back to the present. "Heh, sorry man." He grinned apologetically. "Thinking hard?"

I wanted to take a swing at him, but couldn't muster the energy. Ringo was lucky that he had the kind of laugh that it was hard to get mad at. Also, he was driving. "I'm trying not to think about anything," I muttered, returning my gaze to the familiar roads.

He had the sense to not say anything to that. Something caught my eye, and just for a second I thought I saw a flash of familiar fiery hair walking by, but it was gone before I could focus. I shivered, trying and failing to settle my nerves, and rolled my eyes down to my phone. It had stayed silent since I'd picked it up, even after returning the favor with two missed phone calls and a text message of my own. Despite knowing that it wouldn't make a reply come any faster, I read the message again:

Dear Flash,

I need you. Now.

-P

Every few minutes my mind would flare up with questions, none of which I wanted answering. I kept topping myself thinking of the worst possible outcome. The last I'd heard, Twilight's plan for the day was to track down the other Twilight and then check on Sunset. What had happened between her and those two? I kept picturing Twilight sobbing into her bed again, and each iteration carried a new thought with it; I knew they shouldn't have let Sunset out of the hospital so early, I knew the other Twilight couldn't be trusted, I knew I should have insisted on coming with her that day... What was so terrible that she needed me with her right at that second? Why wasn't she answering?

And, if I'm honest, the initial bugged me more than it should.

Twilight had never really gotten the concept of text messaging. It was kind of cute, at first, even if we were all silently tapping our feet for the day she realized she didn't have to sign her name on every one. For a while it was a mix of Her Royal Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle and Your Friend, Twilight Sparkle, which we'd eventually gotten her to shorten. But after that night, it was just P. P for Princess.

The worst part was how easily she'd gone along with it. It wasn't as if the other Twilight had barged in and demanded her name back; it was like she'd been looking for an opportunity to give it away. The end result was that as long as that impostor was around, I wasn't even allowed to call my girlfriend by her own name. And, frustrating as it was, I hadn't been able to come up with any alternatives. Calling them "human Twilight" and "pony Twilight" would just be a constant reminder for both of them, "my Twilight" felt plain wrong, and "the real Twilight" was just asking for trouble. "Princess" was a fair compromise - I even had her saved in my phone as My Princess, which I was starting to regret more and more each day - but the real insult was that she was the one who was expected to change her name. And everyone, even me, had gone along with it.

I still wasn't sure how I felt about the other Twilight. It was frustratingly difficult to stay mad at her; I couldn't be angry with the face that made me smile whenever I saw it. If I wasn't paying attention, it was easy to mistake her for the real thing. The Twilight I knew was in there somewhere, distorted and reflected by her own life. So was the quiet, confident girl I used to spend all day thinking about in the ninth grade. But then she'd open her mouth or stare down at her shoes, and I'd realize that I still knew nothing about her at all. It caught me off guard every single time. Maybe this was what living with a changeling was like.

There was something dark inside her. This wasn't necessarily her fault; I'd been the first to hear the rumours Sunset had tried to spread about her and I still felt like I'd just scratched the surface of what had happened. But I still remembered the hunger I felt the first time she kissed me. I'd stupidly awoken something that night, something with all the wisdom and cunning of Twilight Sparkle that craved satisfaction and revenge no matter who she had to hurt to get it. If she'd been allowed to get anywhere close to Sunset Shimmer again...

You don't have to be born evil to play the villain.

"Hey," Ringo said.

I tore my gaze away from my phone. "Yeah?"

"Listen, about what Brawly said." He took a deep breath. "You and Twilight, man. You gotta make it work."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Man, you don't function unless you got someone. You need a muse, you know? A project. Twilight Sparkle is that project. Yeah, she works you hard, but she keeps you happier than anything else I've ever seen from you. You can't let that kind of happiness go, man. You just can't."

That raised my spirits, but probably not as much as he'd hoped. "You shouldn't talk about her like that," I said. "She's a person, not some problem I need to fix."

"Man, you talk about her like that half the time," he chuckled. That died when he finally looked at me and saw my scowl. "Hey, you know I didn't mean it like that," he said. "You're good for each other, that's all. She does her magical girl stuff, you keep her in the real world, and no one in the school gets eaten by gnolls. You're a total catch, man. You deserve someone out of this world. And the only reason she's been able to stick around is because she's got someone who can take whatever she can dish out." He turned his eyes back to the road. "So seriously, no pressure, but if you break up with her and she goes crazy then we're all definitely going to die."

No pressure. Right. "Thanks," I muttered, staring even harder at my phone.

Ringo hesitated. "Also, Grasswhistle said that if you break up she's got dibs on you for the next century."

That got a laugh out of me. "Tell her to give me a call in eleven years."

"That's what I said. She looked me right in the eye and started citing legal precedents. If she could tie her own shoes she'd scare me sometimes. Crazy what can come out of your own flesh and blood, huh?"

He laughed to himself. I just stared broodingly into the distance. "Yeah," I said.

I spent the final minute of the trip in silence, expecting at any second to hear the wailing sound of sirens.

Author's Note

Early Bird Fact: It was only a few paragraphs into this that I realized this is the first time I've written a male point of view since high school. I'm starting to remember why.