The Difference between Reality and Sensuality
"Rarity!" I start at the sound of my name. More than that, the volume with which it was exclaimed. I look at the design I was working on and the line that goes right through a good majority of it. I set down my pencil, deciding to fix it later. I stand up with a sigh and stretch my legs, taking my time to make it to the front of the store.
"Welcome to carousel bou-" I'm startled out of my greeting by a pleading unicorn.
"Rarity, you have to help me!" I recover from my stupor and look down at the mare before me.
"I'll do what I can, but goodness, Darling! You've worked yourself into an absolute tizzy over whatever it is that's got you so frazzled." I say sincerely, looking her over. Her mane is a nightmare, unkempt and tousled. Her eyes are bloodshot. They're not as badly bloodshot as they could be, just enough to make it clear she hasn't slept well in a while. "Allow me to make some tea to help you calm down, then we can discuss whatever it is you need." I tell her. She bites her lip before nodding, almost hesitantly. I guide her to the couch and she sits down obediently, I leave her alone to go make tea.
It takes a bit for the water to boil, but when I do make it back to the other room I sigh gently. Lyra's eyes are darting about the room, no visible pattern. As soon as she notices my presence she locked her gaze on me, desperation eating at her resolve. She fidgets in her seat uneasily, a combination of her apparent energy, nervousness, and restlessness.
"Here you are, Darling. A nice soothing Chamomile." I tell her, floating over one of the tea cups. "Now then, from the top, tell me what's happened." I tell her, taking a slow sip from my tea as I wait. Her restlessness gives way to unease, looking as if she almost regrets her decision to come here. Eventually, though, she does start.
"A pony I didn't know all too well from Canterlot has been visiting recently. I wouldn't say we were friends, but we knew each other well enough. We started to hit it off, things were going well." Lyra pauses, seeming to stumble on her words for a second. "So well, In fact... that she asked me out." Lyra has a fit of shivers at this point. She takes a quick sip of tea to calm her nerves and I place down my teacup, tapping my chin thoughtfully.
"She, Darling?" I ask politely, nonetheless Lyra pales and starts to stutter out some form of an excuse. I attempt to console her before she manages to say anything meaningful. "Calm down, dear. I didn't mean anything by it. Just an inquiry." She manages to calm a little at my reassurance. "So, if I Understand correctly you need something to wear?" I ask, not quite understanding the urgency.
"Sort of... but it's more." Lyra says, wringing her hooves nervously. I float the tea up to her face and she stops playing with her hooves in order to grab it. She takes a sip of tea and sighs deeply before continuing. "I've... never been on a date," She admits hesitantly. "I don't think I've ever even read enough to know how a date goes."
"Oh." There's the catch. I think on it briefly before making my decision. "When is the date?" I ask.
"Friday."
"Oh my, including today, that's only three days." I say, worry creeping into my voice. I think on it for a second more before downing the rest of my tea. It scalds me slightly as it goes down and I shiver at the feeling. It energizes me slightly and I stand up quickly and flip the open sign on the door to closed, locking it in the process. "Well then we better get started, we haven't got time to waste." I tell her, the fire of inspiration already kindling inside of me.
***
I'm not an expert at love. No, I'm more of a... I daresay connoisseur. If possible for me to be a connoisseur without expertise. Expertise comes with personal success and experience, whereas a connoisseur is merely a judge that's able to know what makes something right. In the Same sense a food connoisseur isn't necessarily a cook. Personal success I am sadly lacking in, but I'm not entirely experience-less.
Here is where I come upon an impasse. On that same vein of thinking, a connoisseur is not an accurate coach in all instances. And if I planned on helping Lyra anymore I'll need to figure something out. Surely I know enough to at the very least help her? I don't need to make her an expert all at once, I just need to give her a foundation to build her own technique.
The entirety of today was spent explaining the very fundamental parts of a date, only barely scratching the intricacies contained in practice. I did this while I measured and figured out a design for the suit she wanted.
And that's another thing, a suit! I couldn't imagine why she wanted a suit, but the customer is always right. That's not to say I didn't try and push the thought of a dress more than a little. The thing is, I've seen Lyra wear a dress before. Nay, more than once have I seen her in an absolutely stunning dress. I've even designed one for her before, and she looked absolutely gorgeous in it. She remained stubbornly set on having a suit though.
It I this piece I work on now, a classic suit with a twist. A gold tie to complement her stunning golden eyes. Such a beautiful contrast to her seafoam green coat.
The suit will mean nothing if I can't teach Lyra the ins and outs of a proper date in the next two days. First things first, I have to finish this suit, that way I can alter it tomorrow if I need to and it will be ready for the date the day after. With my action plan all mapped out I nod to myself and continue making the suit.
***
"Lyra, Darling. Are you alright in there?" I ask tentatively into the changing room. Lyra had insisted on privacy, and even though the suit was fitted to her body, I had my reservations about Lyra's ability to put it on.
"Y-yeah! Just, Unf! Fine!" I bite my lip at the vocal struggle, waiting anxiously for the sound of ripping fabric and bursting seams to happen any second now. Even though I'm beside myself with fear for my latest creation, I carefully slip into an elegant black dress myself. I glance at the changing room briefly, my being here doesn't change anything. If somethings going to go wrong, I'm still only able to help after the fact.
With this thought in mind, I move to my makeup table. I apply only the barest amount of makeup necessary for the occasion. A necklace, and even a hooflet. Two accessories that really are only for my well being. This may be a practice date, but I still want it to feel real.
After all, what type of coach would I be if we only talked theory? Practice makes perfect. Considering that the actual date is tomorrow, now is the only time we'll get the proper mood to practice. I turn at the sound of the dressing rooms doors opening, I suck in my breath quickly.
I know I wasn't entirely on-board with the whole suit idea at first, but that doesn't mean I think it looks bad. After all, I made the suit. I know I expected the suit to look good on her, but I couldn't have expected she'd look this good in the suit. I can feel myself getting lightheaded and let my breath go. It is a little narcissistic, but sometimes even my own designs take my breath away. Such occasions are few and far between, but looking at Lyra in that suit I can tell my pride. Butterfly's flutter in my stomach as I realize I've been staring just a bit too long, if I stare much longer she might think I'm weird. I cough and turn my head, a blush rising from embarrassment.
"I must say, Darling. You look absolutely brilliant, if I do say so myself!" I tell her, she blushes in return.
"Thanks, you did design it" Lyra says, but her eyes don't tear from my dress. "You look beautiful, Rarity. But, you didn't have to get dressed..." Lyra tells me, a blush of embarrassment lighting up her features as well.
"Nonsense. If I expect you to take this seriously, I have to take this seriously. It's not proper practice if it isn't like a real date." I tell her. "Now, then. Shall we begin?" I ask, attempting to stand up professionally. Lyra nods and she walks up to me, offering a hoof. I look at the hoof approvingly and accept it daintily. She grasps it gently, pulling me close as we walk. I'm more than a little surprised at how firm her grip is, perfectly soft and secure at the same time. I feel a sense of security and rest my head against her shoulder at the feeling, sighing contentedly.
My eyes widen and I my cheeks darken to a deep crimson as I realize what I was doing. I clear my throat, "ahem, perfect form Lyra. You've got that down" I tell her, not wanting to look over at her eyes. I'd almost forgotten that this wasn't actually a date, and that Lyra is... well, Lyra. She's just my student, and I can't get distracted by my own wishes for somebody as perfect at that as she is...
"Rarity?" I look up, realizing that I'd spaced out again and Lyra is already holding the chair out for me. My white coat does me no favors in hiding my blush as I sit down.
"Thank you, Lyra." I tell her, nodding as she takes her own seat across from me.
"Are you Okay, Rarity? Did I mess up?" She asks worriedly, a single bead of sweat forming on her brow.
"No, no, you're doing fine. Better than fine, you're an exquisite date so far. But your practice is far from over." I tell her, she nods and I float up a menu to my face. The menu is actually a copy of the menu Lyra said her date was at. "Seeing as this is the practice, I already have the food ready. Let's ignore that fact for now and say we were to order. Who do you let order first?" I ask.
"Your date."
"Precisely. Now, the first thing you order is drinks. For a first date I'd suggest a red wine. At this particular restaurant they sell a wonderful Cabernet Sauvignon that might do well. For the drink, it's okay to order for the both of you. It would be expected. Of course, if your date opposes..." I trail off, Lyra happy to finish it.
"Then your date's right." Lyra says with a smile.
"Correct once again. Now, I don't have any Cabernet, but I do have a Merlot we can substitute." I tell her, floating a wine bottle over to the table. Lyra widens her eyes, but she doesn't oppose as I pour us both a glass.
"Okay, now, between orders and delivery there will be a wait time. Let's say, nine minutes to practice. This would be the time for small talk. You start." I explain, setting a small timer off to the corner. Lyra looks at the timer nervously and taps her hooves together.
"So... how was your day?" I resist the urge to Facehoof at such a terribly predictable line, but I play along.
"My day was fine, how about yours?" I respond, not even batting an eye. As a regular visitor to the Spa, I happen to be very skilled at small talk. Whether it be with Aloe and Lotus, or with Fluttershy, the spa is a setting where small talk thrives. It comes in handy for times I have to keep a pony busy for a while. Be it first measurements or adjustment, I find small talk to be a skill I am very familiar with.
"Good, good." Unfortunately, Lyra doesn't seem to be endowed with the same social grace I am privy too. "So... how about that weather?" She asks, smiling awkwardly.
"No, I'm Sorry. But these questions are unacceptable for a date. Maybe a pony you just met on the street, but a date is different." I tell her, wondering how best to explain it. "Ah, here, I'll lead and you listen." I tell her. "Ahem. Tell me, what is it you do?" I ask, she looks confused for a second before getting the hint.
"I'm a... musician." She stumbles on the word for a second, unsure of the title.
"A musician? They just play the instrument, right?" I ask, to which Lyra gives a hesitant nod. "Are you sure you're not more? Anypony can play an instrument." I tell her, she looks taken aback.
"What do you mean?" Lyra asks, nervous and looking slightly offended.
"Well, I play a bit of piano, that makes me a musician right?" I ask, she looks hesitant to answer.
"No? Maybe?"
"Precisely. No. That is the correct answer. What do you do that I don't, aside from have a talent at it." I ask, Lyra thinks for a second.
"Music is... complex. It's not exactly easy to explain. That's because music is... it's seen as a sensual object with real properties, when in all actuality music is real with sensual properties." I tilt my head at the explanation, a little confused at what she means. She sighs at my look and taps her chin lightly. "It's like... a real thing can't be experienced, but a sensual thing can only be experienced. Most ponies assume we experience music, that it's sensual. The real properties being what distinguishes music from noise, harmony. That's not correct." She explains further.
"It's not?" I ask, a little taken aback.
"No, music is real. You can't experience it, not truly. Music runs deeper, it's in our Magic, it's in our interactions, music is the cornerstone of nearly everything... why do you think it's called harmony? It has sensual properties that allow us to think we're experiencing it. In the same vein, a sensual object with real properties would be vamponies. We can experience them, but only through virtue of media. They have real properties, but they're sensual. If we didn't exist, vamponies wouldn't. Whereas music would continue to exist if we were gone, because it's real and not sensual." I nod, taking it all in.
"I see... that... that's certainly an interesting way to think about it." I say, still thinking about it myself. I'd never used the terms, but I'd always seen music as somewhat of an experience.
"I'm sorry, I was too serious, wasn't I?" Lyra asks, berating herself silently.
"No! No... no, that was perfect. Small talk is often hard and unsatisfactory because ponies tend to fill it with... well, to be frank, they fill it with meaningless banter. That was perfect. It was informative, deep... meaningful. I just need a second to think." I tell her, she nods and waits patiently. There's a long and surprisingly comfortable silence, which is an occurrence that's hard to come by. I think on what was said for a moment before my thoughts turn to the pony that said them.
Lyra is clearly far more intelligent than she let's on, but from what she's told me and what Spikes said, that's to be expected. She went to Celestia's school for gifted unicorns with Twilight when she lived in Canterlot, so she has to be well educated. But it seems to be more than that, she doesn't have the mere book smarts that Twilight does.
No, she has a far more inquisitive and thoughtful nature. She's obviously a creative thinker, She's a musician. To be an expert at any of the arts requires ingenuity, but Lyra has insight as well. A personality trait more befitting a philosopher than a musician. I've always admired philosophy as inspired, creative, and thoughtful. It was something I didn't have as much skill with. I can be inspired and creative, but it's hard for me to think intelligently on anything outside of my interests much.
Lyra sips her wine nervously, obviously thinking about something herself. I open my mouth to say something, then shut it quietly. I just watch Lyra fiddle with her hooves in thought, a small smile at the action gracing my lips. She's nervous, but she doesn't look uncomfortable, it's too cute. I'm startled out of my thoughts by the ring of a timer, I jump in my seat out of surprise. My hearts racing, even as I realize what the sound was. I turn off the timer and turn back to Lyra, who just so happens to be looking at me expectantly.
"We didn't even talk half the time," Lyra says worriedly.
"No, no we didn't. But that's a good thing." I tell her with a smile.
"It is? I thought small talk was important?"
"Well, it is. But I've found that silence is also important. An awkward silence can ruin a date, and that usually happens if your small talk is just... banter. But if you can share a silence with your date comfortably you have a real connection." I explain, floating our dishes out of the oven. I'd kept them in there to keep them warm, I touch my dish hesitantly. A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I realize they're still warm, I place one in front of me and Lyra.
"Rarity?" I look up from the meal. A simple salad with warm apples and light dressing. Fresh bread and boiled greens on the side. Lyra happens to be looking at me desperately as I look over, she motions to her utensils.
"What fork do I use?" She asks nervously, nudging one of her two forks with a hoof.
I laugh lightly as she starts to blush, looking away from me. I stop laughing, attempting to stifle my giggles. I stop my giggle fit and look at Lyra apologetically.
"Sorry, you just... it was... you had to be there, but you made a face and I simply couldn't resist laughing. Apologies. It's a completely understandable concern." I tell her, to which she just hides her face further. "Oh, come now Darling. Your face is plenty beautiful, you don't have to hide it. A mare with beauty beyond comparison could make a funny face." I assure her, she just nods and turns back to her utensils. I smile at her, she smiles back weakly.
"Yeah..." she says.
"Think nothing of it, Darling. Now, utensils." I tell her as she hangs onto my every word, desperate to be prepared for her date tomorrow.
***
"Good luck." Those had been the last words Rarity told me before I left for my date. The date wasn't for another four hours, but that comment still gave me butterflies. It's not advice, or a guideline. Just the veiled promise, or threat, that love is a force controlled by luck. And not a feeling you experience and is a manifestation of destiny. Just the thinly veiled promise that there is a right, a wrong, and I have the ability to screw up. It caused me much distress.
I attempted to calm myself with a fact. A simple fact, but it's reality was all the more calming. Those words were meant in good faith and with the best intentions. Besides, she had helped so much already.
The one practice date we did went perfect, which hopefully meant I'd learned enough from Rarity to give a good date. The information was there, and I'd always been a good student.
Now was the moment of truth, the date itself.
I look at the sun, inching towards the horizon. She's staying with a friend while she's here, so I have to pick her up at that friends house.
I glance at the chocolates and flowers in my Magic, chocolates complimentary of Bonbon. Flowers the freshest, or so Roseluck claimed. Not that I don't believe her, it's just that she says some pretty crazy things about her and that Doctor fellow. At least it seems she's telling the truth, the flowers look fresh. Then again, what do I know? I'm not a florist, I'm a musician.
I pull the neck of my suit out slightly, sweating lightly despite the cool evening breeze blowing through Ponyville. I half wish I had my hoodie, the one I use to ward off the cold in the winter months. A gift from Applejack one Hearthswarming, a coal grey in color. It used to be hers, so it's a hoof me down, but darn it if it isn't the comfiest thing ever.
I'd even love the scarf Rarity gave me the same Hearthswarming, a beautiful yellow to match the gold in my eyes. It's equally as warm and comfy, just more suited for the days that aren't as cold.
And now this suit... and the lessons. I need to think of a way to repay Rarity, it was so generous of her to close her shop for the better part of three days just to help me.
I snap out of my thoughts as I approach the house, knocking firmly. The door opens and I see just the mare I'm looking for. She's wearing a navy blue dress, complimenting her azure coat nicely. Her light grey hair is done up in a bun, her tail brushed meticulously.
"You look beautiful." I tell her. It's true, but something's off about how the words feel. I really mean it, she looks beautiful.
"You're looking pretty great yourself," she replies with a light laugh, moving around me to admire the suit. "The famous Rarity I've heard so much about, I presume?" She asks, I nod hesitantly.
"She certainly doesn't disappoint. It's a gorgeous suit." She says decisively. I smile at the compliment, it certainly sounded sincere... Then why aren't I happy. Not to say I'm not happy. Everything's going perfectly and for that I'm excited, but my heart isn't racing. There's no joy in my happiness.
"Flowers, my dear." I tell her, kneeling as I present the flowers and chocolates.
"Oh, Lyra. You shouldn't have!" She exclaims, and I smile. She's happy, and that means this is going perfectly. I'm happy that she's happy. "I'll put these Away and we can go to the restaurant." She says, ducking back inside. I stay outside, shifting uncomfortably in the silence. Eventually she saves me from it with her voice, "Okay, let's go." She says.
It's a short walk, short enough that small talk was irrelevant. Even so, something about the silence rubbed me the wrong way. I just interceded it with short comforting smiles in my dates direction, to which she responds with a goofy sort of smile. She's happy, and the date is going well. I'm happy that she's happy.
Soon we arrive at the restaurant,
"Wow, it's really busy in here." My date says, looking around. I nod, before realizing she won't see that.
"Yeah." I say. The utterance of that word was followed by an awkward silence. It was at this moment I noticed a distinct lack of purple curls at our table. I expected Rarity to chime in with a witticism of some sort at any moment. To which I'd laugh and we'd sit comfortably, enjoying the pregnant pause afterwards.
I looked up at my date and was greeted with striking green eyes, a brilliant emerald. For some reason I'd been expecting a soft and inviting baby blue. It was then that I realized, she was not Rarity. Sure, I had known that the entire time in as literal a sense as possible, but I had gone into this date knowing what I should feel. I had already had one perfect date, but that was just practice, wasn't it? It didn't mean anything.
Did it?
What should I be feeling now? Love is sensual, love isn’t…what wasn’t love, Lyra? It isn’t real?
I flinch at the utterance, I had fallen for the one sort of assumption I despised most. I had been looking at love all wrong. Love was like music. It wasn’t a sensual thing, It was real. All the frivolous things associated with love are sensual, but those are only the qualities. Love is real, not an experience. It’s not a fleeting feeling, Love is the very real connection you feel with another being. It’s not like a party, or get-together. Love is not a date.
I hold back the lightheaded feeling and close my eyes to let it pass. This date was not love. It was going well, but it was only an experience. I could have a thousand experiences, but only one love. One love with the sensual qualities to make every moment an experience in itself.
But like any experience, I am fully capable of messing it up. This date is going well, but this relationship isn’t going to work. Do I tell her? I don’t want to ruin her date, that’s cruel. What if the sides were flipped? I accepted this date, someone might as well enjoy it.
She’s happy, the date is going well. I’m happy that she’s happy.
***
“Lyra?” I don’t look up as I hear Rarities voice, staring at my hooves. I don’t want her to see whatever my face looks like. Fear, anxiety, and shame were all prominent feelings running through my head. The only clarity I felt at all was the one reality, my love. It’s realness had been apparent ever since the epiphany I had during my date. “My goodness, it’s late. What are you doing here at a time like this? How did your date go? Oh, no. It went bad didn’t it?” I didn’t bother to correct her, I couldn’t bear to. To tell her why I was here would mean to tell her of my love for her. A love that was impossible.
It was no secret that Rarity liked colts, not mares. It was unchallenged, as there was no evidence to reveal that Rarity had any attraction to anything other than stallions. Why would all that change for one unbelievably insignificant musician?
I shuddered as I felt her soft embrace, it was both inviting and warm. None of it was reassuring though, even if that was the intended effect. I nonetheless lifted my hooves up in a sorry attempt to reciprocate the hug, Rarity didn’t seem to mind how little I was capable of speech at the moment. Eventually I garnered up enough courage to mutter a single answer.
“The date was perfect.” I tell her, she blinks and pulls me away. I don’t raise my head to look at her, despite how much I know she’s looking at me. “but, I’m scared, Rarity.”
“Scared of what, Darling?” she asks, still holding me gently within hooves reach, her tone gentle.
“Scared because…” as the moment of truth came, I tensed. “Because I love you. Because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. The only thing close to how sure I am is how much I’m sure you can’t like me back.” I say, breaking into a gentle sob as Rarities grip loosens. Amazingly, she doesn’t let go. Instead her grip suddenly tightens and I feel myself pulled close to her fur, despite the embrace I’m still sobbing. Confusion clouding all attempts at logic, joy mixing with fear and sadness. Eventually I release all the tension and melt into her grip, enjoying how she strokes my back soothingly as I weep into her shoulder.
“There, there.” Rarity soothes, but the words come out hesitant and confused. “I… I love you too.” she says decisively, resting her muzzle on my head and pecking it. I sniffle and pull away slightly, wiping my eyes so that I can finally look into hers. I see it. Love.
Love is like music, real. It can't be felt. But you can see it, and to see either is to be completely in harmony with it and entirely sure of it's reality.
We sat for many moments like that, me in her embrace and her embracing me. Eventually, when most of my tears subside Rarity speaks up.
“Are you still scared?” She asks gently, and I look into her caring eyes as I let out a relieved breath.
“I’ve never been so unafraid in my life.”
