Isn't She Lovely?

by averageamazingme

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Comedy, Slice of Life
Length: 8980

Can Lovely Prose chart her way to fame, family, and fun? ... Um, why not?

Lovely Prose, aspiring Romance novelist, and her journey towards everything she's ever wanted; a successful career, a wonderful husband, and a picturesque family.

What could possibly go wrong?

This story is a prequel to Life Could Be A Dream.

Published 2015-11-30 02:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-01 10:47:25 UTC

A Lovely Party...from a certain point of view

“Do I get to say it?” Measured asked as Lovely entered his office.

“I’m really not in the mood.” She replied dejectedly, paper levitated by her side. Lovely slumped into the chair in front of his desk and sighed.

He looked at her, eyes full of sympathy. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not happy about it either.”

She sniffed. “You read the critique. Even the gay community says it was hackneyed and forced.”

Measured snorted. “I don’t think anypony…”

Lovely picked up the entertainment section in her magic. Flipping it around to face Measured, she recited it from memory. “When an author takes up her pen to write, she must consider whether she has the experience to successfully navigate the rough waters of perspective. As far as L.P. Rose is concerned, experience and perspective are clearly lacking. The stilted way the author constructed and executed her protagonist and his world is unbelievable to the point of fantasy.”

Measured’s brows slowly returned to their normal state. “Well, they still didn’t say hackneyed and forced…”

“That was the Canterlot Courier Times, Mez.” She said.

Measured waved a hoof. “The reviewer at CCT is always harsh on Barleyquin novels.”

Lovely looked down at the next paper, apparently holding a bundle of newspapers. “Then there’s also—“

Measured stood and walked around his desk. “Lovely! You’re a straight mare writing about a gay pony with explicit sex scenes! Did you not consider the possibility of some negative feedback?”

“Some, yes! Practically everypony? No!” Lovely replied.

Without looking, Measured levitated a sheet from his desk and flew it over to Lovely. “Well, take a look at the sales.”

Lovely’s magical glow took the page slowly. “Are you trying to cheer me up or make sure I never write again?”

Measured snorted. “Trust me, Lovely.”

“Fine, let me see…” Running a hoof down the page, she found her book and went over to the sales column. “Mez?”

Measured shrugged. “Still here, Love.”

Her eyes were fierce as she turned her gaze on him. “These numbers…you didn’t do anything funny just to make me feel better?”

“Lovely, I wouldn’t lie to you about stuff like this. This is business.” Measured started back around to his chair.

Lovely spluttered. “But these…I couldn’t have…”

“Written the fifth best selling Barleyquin novel of the quarter? Yes. Yes, you did.” He said as he sat again. Steepling his fore hooves on his desk, he turned a grin towards his sister.

“But, the reviews…”

Measured shook his head. “You’ll find that some of those ponies who loudly proclaim their disgust tend to keep a…let’s say healthy amount of smutty novels under the bed.”

“Mez, I love you.” She launched herself across the desk to hug him round the neck.

Surprised by the sudden outburst, he patted her on the back. “Expand your social circle. It’ll help with the experience and perspective. Then go write me the best selling Barleyquin novel. Okay?”

Leaning back, she caught his gaze. “How do you suggest I go about expanding my social circle?”

“The younger notables and nobles tend to prefer different activities than their parents. Ones without guest lists.” He lifted an eyebrow.

Lovely smiled. “Where’s the party and when do I crash it?”

Measured threw a flier at her.

“Oh, and Lovely.” She turned around, eyebrows raised. “I told you so.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Mez.”

“It’s what I do.”

The garden party was…different than the ones Lovely usually attended. For one, the liquor flowed much more freely. Then there was the music, the rhythmic groove a welcome change from the classical arrangements. Finally, the attendees ranged in age only by a few years in either direction from Lovely’s age.

Celestia's sunsets were alarmingly beautiful when one paid enough attention to notice. It wasn’t just the gold and crimson that burned bright. Subtle purples, the interplay with the cloud coverage, and the fine attention to timing made this sunset one of the most amazing Lovely ever witnessed. Amongst the hustle and bustle of the party, Lovely took a break on a bench to admire the waning illumination.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, miss, but is this seat taken?” The low tenor at her ear was almost too soft. Lovely turned her head to take in her would-be benchmate. Standing close at hoof, the stallion cut an imposing figure at first. His black coat and tail practically drew the light in around him. A shock of white hair in his dark mane didn’t seem to be from age, but neither was it unnaturally whitened. Had it not been for his kindly, yet intense, eyes Lovely would’ve been frightened into silence.

With a blink, she realized she’d been staring for too long. The stallion actually started to turn away when she got control of herself and called out. “Oh, wait! No, this seat’s not taken. Would you please join me?”

As he turned back, she caught a hint of a fading smile on his face. When he’d taken the empty seat she turned back toward the sunset, her face strangely warm in spite of the night’s slight chill. She thanked good breeding that her coat was red; she had to be blushing like a filly.

The stallion cleared his throat. His voice seemed somewhat strained as he spoke. “Um, forgive me again. My name is Second. Oh, um, Second Story that is. I’m an architectural student at the college here in Canterlot. Might I have the pleasure of your name?”

She smiled at his charmingly antiquated formality. “You may. I’m Lovely.”

Her throat caught as she made to continue. Lovely blamed the pollen; she’d definitely been out here too long. She grimaced, expecting the usual ‘I’ll say' response that she got at some of these horrid parties. When he didn’t take the obvious opening, she glanced at him. The intense look had returned, but faded away again as soon as he realized she looked at him.

Turning away again, Lovely decided to flirt. “I think I love the sunsets in Canterlot the most.”

“Have you been to many other places then?” He asked, his voice pleasant.

“I’ve seen Vanhoover, Baltimare, and Manehatten. Too much space, too old a space, and not enough space, respectively. Here in Canterlot the sunset seems so…intimate. It’s as if the city and the sun are lovers. At the end of the day, the sun casts its rays as if it were taking the city into its arms.” She glanced back to Second, his head tilted to one side and his eyes unreadable.

She regarded him fully. When it became clear he would continue staring, she looked down at her hooves. “I suppose that seems odd to most ponies. It’s a work hazard, I’m afraid. I’m a romance novelist.” She looked back up with the admission and caught his gaze again. If she had to describe it, she’d say it was almost like Second was looking for something.

“Are you always this chatty?” She asked when she found her breath again.

The stallion shook himself. “My apologies. I-I should go. I’m here with a friend and if I’m not watching him, he’ll probably—“ He was caught off by a loud whooping and the sound of a large splash in one of the garden pools. “—get into trouble. Excuse me one moment.” He actually waited for her nod before rising and walking up the path.

From up the path, she heard his voice. “Deadline! I’m not bailing you out this time!”

Even farther away, she heard the reply. It was definitely not the sort of thing one usually heard at a garden party. Nor in polite society. Second walked back stiffly, his muzzle a mixture of emotions.

“That was your friend, I take it?” She asked with a smile.

He nodded curtly. “Yes. For a pony named Deadline, he has a habit of cutting loose.” In the distance, they heard the sound of glass shattering. “Too loose.”

Lovely laughed, earning a small smile from the stallion. “Makes life interesting, I suppose.” She gestured invitingly back to his seat. He nodded and took it.

A beat of silence fell between them. Lovely’s blush thankfully didn’t make a comeback, so she took the opportunity to do some staring of her own. With the sun nearly set, Lovely saw him in a new light. His coat tended towards shaggy, his tail a bit too long and his mane wasn’t the kind of messy that took hours to achieve; it was just messy. Glass marks indented his muzzle; idly Lovely wondered why he wasn’t wearing them. In spite of his company, he seemed ill-at-ease. Second’s posture just this side of slouching and his brow furrowed.

“May I venture a few guesses, Mr. Story?” He looked at her, brow slightly less furrowed. When he nodded, she continued, shifting slightly closer. “If my guess is correct, you were dragged here by your aforementioned friend, Deadline was it?”

Another nod. She slipped in closer, as if conspiring. “Right. He practically had to pull you out by your tail after removing your glasses. By my guess, you only have a slight visual impairment, but without your glasses ponies tend to think of you as rather…severe. Am I close so far?”

A nod. “Remarkably.” She could practically feel his breath as he spoke the word and yet she came closer.

Lovely beamed. Second seemed to notice their proximity at last. “You spent this entire party regretting your every association with Mr. Deadline until you saw a certain mare gazing at the sunset. Failure would be embarrassing, but you screwed your courage to the sticking place and succeeded. So you came to talk to her and now you’re Second…guessing.”

As her shoulder bumped his, he let out a shaky laugh. “Nice pun. I can hardly be blamed for my interest. A mare who references MacBridle is well worth the effort.”

She looked deeply into his eyes and leaned in. He closed his eyes, expecting a kiss that didn’t come. When he opened them again, she was back on her side of the bench. “Well, your turn.” She smiled challengingly.

Spurred on by courage he hadn’t known he possessed, Second nodded. “By your own admission, you’re a romance novelist.” She nodded and suppressed a laugh as he scooted over an inch towards her. “You’ve been many places, but call Canterlot home. You must have published a book soon…” She winced, turning away.

“…but it didn’t do as well as you wanted. With you, Lovely, it seems the question is why are you here? Ah-ah!” He interrupted her with a hoof to her lips as she turned back towards him. Only then did she realize he’d come closer when she’d turned away. “This is still my turn.”

“I’ve been dragged to every party this season and unless I was hallucinating or horribly ill-fated, I’ve never seen you before. So you’re not usually one for the…young society crowd, shall we say? So to answer the question posited by your presence, one must return to your line of work. Authors watch ponies, don’t they? They watch how ponies interact; how a lone pony acts when he thinks no one’s watching.”

It was Lovely’s turn to nod, her eyes wide as his drew ever closer. “You're here for the experience, Lovely. I hope this measures up to your expectations.”

As if in slow-motion, his lips crossed down to hers. In as many seconds, she realized she’d never actually kissed anypony. All she had was the words of others about how it all felt. Just then, she knew how inadequate those words were. Like a dam bursting, she flowed into the kiss. In the moment, she gave herself no time to worry if he would care about her skill. Instead, she gave herself free rein. For his part, Second seemed happy and responsive.

Only when her lungs threatened to burst did she separate her lips from his. He panted just as plainly as she; his breath wonderfully ticklish on her neck. Lovely nearly laughed in the giddy rush of hormones and air-deprivation.

“My name is Lovely Prose. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I should hope so!”

A Lovely Family...or at least it used to be.

"Lovely, I think those noodles are done." Measured said as he walked into the kitchen.

Looking down, Lovely noticed the pot boiling over. Casting her magic around the pot, she moved it off the burner. Floating the strainer over the sink, she turned an apologetic look at her brother. "Sorry, guess I was daydreaming."

"Let me guess, it was about that stallion you met at that party?" Measured asked drily as he took a seat at the kitchen bar counter. He propped his head up on both forehooves and sighed. "The dreamy one?"

Dumping the pot into the strainer, Lovely picked up an individual noodle and threw it at Measured's face. Irritatingly, he caught it in his mouth. "Al dente, looks like I saved it just in time."

Narrowing her eyes at his cheeky grin, she picked up the strainer to shake out excess water. "You're in an awfully cheery mood today."

"Sue me." He teased. "I'm not a grump all the time."

"Yes, you are." Lovely said casually. "So this is incredibly suspicious behavior for you." Tossing the noodles into a bowl, Lovely grabbed the olive oil and spread it liberally over the noodles to keep them from sticking. Grabbing a wooden fork, she tossed the noodles and glanced over at Measured, who was actually smiling . "Spill the beans, Mez, or I'm going to eat all this by myself."

"Oh, so your stallion is in to big fillies, eh?" Measured asked impudently.

Unused to such jokes from her serious sibling, Lovely turned to face him fully, noodles left alone. "Measured, what under the sun is going on?"

Relenting, Measured came around the counter and took the lid off of the sauce-pan. Taking a whiff, Measured turned off the heat and brought out plates and silverware to set the table. "I...met somepony."

Lovely clapped her hooves excitedly. "Who's the lucky mare? What does she do? Is she a unicorn? Is she pretty?"

"Lovely, get a grip." Measured said, table set. Levitating over some wine from the rack near the table, he popped the cork and poured a glass before Lovely could say anything.

"You're supposed to wait for the food." Lovely said, two plates trailing behind her in her magic. Setting them down, Lovely looked across the table in barely-controlled anticipation. Measured took a rather long pull on his glass and looked back at her. "What? I don't even get a name?"

Sighing, Measured went for the wine glass again, but Lovely's magic took hold of the glass before his could. "That's rude, you know." He said crossly.

"You can't hide behind alcohol forever. One minute you're practically floating in here. Then I question you and you turn back into mopey Messy."

"Fine, you want a name?" He asked loudly. Lovely glared at his sudden volume. Measured looked down at his plate and muttered. "Barley Roll."

"Barely Toll? What, is she a bellringer?" Lovely asked, confused.

"Not Barely Toll, Barley Roll." He replied.

Odd name for a filly, Lovely thought. "So what does she--"

"He's a cropduster." Measured answered.

"Oh, well that's nice enough. How do you meet a cropduster in Canterlot?" Lovely asked, twirling some noodles onto her fork.

"I met him at a farmer's market." Lovely's ears pricked toward Measured, but her gaze remained on her food. Measured continued. "He's from Ponyville, but recently came up here to help with his sister's bread business."

Digesting this information, Lovely took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. Wiping her mouth, Lovely stood up from the table and walked around to her brother. "Mez, just one question."

Eying her movements, Measured answered nervously. "What's that?"

Without warning, she blasted him backward magically, toppling him onto his back. Standing over him, she pressed her nose against his. "WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU WERE GAY? I WROTE A STILTED, HACKNEYED BOOK AND YOU JUST LET ME SUBMIT IT LIKE THAT TO A PUBLISHER? DOES MY CAREER MEAN NOTHING TO YOU? I TRUST YOU WITH EVERYTHING, MEASURED PROSE!"

"Lovely! I didn't even want to admit it to myself! The whole time I read your manuscript I thought I was going to explode. I almost wish I had." He turned away from her with the admission.

Backing away, Lovely let her brother scurry to his feet before she pounced on him with an incredibly tight hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Need...air...Lovely!" Measured gasped out around her shoulder in his neck. She kept her forehooves on his shoulders, but backed up enough to let him breathe. "Please don't tell father."

"As if you need to tell me that! But, you should. The holidays are coming up, Mez, and if father can't find it in his heart to be there for you and your...coltfriend, then it's better to know it for sure rather than worry and wonder."

Measured shivered. "I'll think about it, Love."

"Just don't start drinking before you show up to the family dinner, okay? You'll have me, mom, and your studly stallion." Lovely said, finding her way back to her seat.

Righting his chair, Measured looked up suddenly. "What do you mean, mom?"

Lovely lowered her fork and smiled. "When I released my first book and mom found out, she let it slip that she'd support either of us if we were...that way. She thought I was, actually."

"Mom thought you were..." Measured said, not quite able to bring himself to say it.

Lovely nodded. "Yeah, but I assured her that my fascination rested solely on stallions."

"So, you think she'll be okay if I tell her that I...am fascinated with stallions too?" Measured asked, sitting back in his chair.

"I can't promise you it'll be pretty with father. He has some attitudes that have been held for quite some time. But mom wouldn't love you any less, Mez. I'm sure." Lovely turned her attention back to her food.

Measured looked thoughtful, then followed suit. Halfway through his plate, he wiped his mouth, took a much more reasonable sip of wine and piped up again. "Lovely?"

About to take another bite, Lovely took a second to speak. "Yeah?"

"Thank you." He said quietly.

"No problem, Mez." She said with a smile.

Taking a moment to pour herself a glass, she had a thought. "Mez?"

"Yeah?" He asked, resisting his own glass of wine.

"Next gay book, you're consulting. Got it?" She demanded.

He smiled widely. "Okay, sis."

***

"Mom, dad, this is Second Story. Second, this is my mother Purple and my father Rhymed Prose." Lovely said, introducing her parents and stallionfriend.

"A pleasure, ma'am, sir." Second said as he shook hooves with the Prose parents.

"Second Story? Are you a writer as well?" Purple asked.

"No, ma'am. I'm an architect. Well, architect in training. I'm apprenticed with Fine Structure of Structure and Sons."

"Quite impressive. I've heard good things of Fine Structure." Rhymed said with a smile. "Now, Lovely, I'm sure your brother mentioned whether or not he'd be attending tonight." It was a statement, but Lovely knew the kind of answer her father wanted.

She smiled in spite of her nerves. "He said he had to pick some...thing up on the way. Probably wanted to treat us to a special vintage."

Rhymed sighed. "Your brother does have a soft spot for wines. I'd worry, if I didn't know I'd raised him better."

"You know Mez, everything he does is in moderation." Lovely said, scrambling her brains trying to figure out a way to change the subject.

Luckily, Purple made it easy. "Well, we can wait a bit longer. Why don't we all go to the living room and I'll get some cocoa going?"

As Purple puttered around the kitchen, Rhymed heaved himself into a recliner. Lovely gestured at the love seat, Second sat closer to Rhymed and Lovely sat next to Second.

"Where did you do your schooling?" Rhymed asked.

"Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I've lived in Canterlot my whole life. My family has been here for six generations."

"Impressive. What do you do for Structure and Sons?"

"Check calculations, mostly. I'm learning a lot about what customers want and what they need. The Structure Sons are considering a move to Baltimare. There's a lot of renovation and upgrade work around here, but they really want to sink their hooves into fresh dirt and design from scratch."

"I bet. Good news for you, eh? Maybe it'll be Structure and Story before too long." Rhymed laughed. "You know, I think I have some pictures of how Canterlot looked before it was built up like it is now, if you're interested?" Second nodded. "Be back in a flash." Heaving himself up, Rhymed went down the hall and through a door.

Like clockwork, Measured and Barley walked in just as Rhymed left. Levitating a tray of drinks, Purple caught sight of the pair.

"You brought a friend, Mez?" Purple asked innocently. Lovely jumped up and gave Measured a hug. Unsure of what else to do, Second stood.

"Yes." Lovely shoulder bumped his and Measured corrected himself. "I mean, no."

Purple's eyes narrowed. "What's going on?"

"Mom, this is Barley Roll. Barley, this is my mother, Purple Prose."

Barley's wings fluttered against his sides nervously as he bowed. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"Likewise. Now, Mez, let's get this straight. Who is Barley to you?" Purple asked.

"Mom, he's my...stallion...friend."

"As in, a special somepony?" Purple pressed.

Measured swallowed drily. "Yes, ma'am."

Everyone shifted nervously as hoofsteps approached. Lovely gave Mez a reassuring smile. Barley gave him a quick side wing-hug. "Who's this?" Rhymed asked as he approached the gathering in the living room.

Measured cleared his throat and stepped forward. To his credit, Barley stepped forward with him. Lovely liked him already. "Dad. This is Barley Roll. He and I are...dating."

The room went silent. Rhymed's look of interest turned into shock, and then settled into a frown. Measured tried not to let on that his insides were twisting themselves to pieces, but Lovely could practically feel the unease radiating off of him. Finally, Rhymed spoke. "You know how I feel about this."

"I do, sir." Measured confirmed.

Rhymed looked into his son's eyes. "The holiday season is stressful enough, son. I didn't need this, too."

Measured gave out a hollow, shaky laugh. "You didn't need this? Well, I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience."

"Measured, it's bad enough that he's a stallion, but a pegasus on top of it all."

"What's wrong with being a pegasus?" Barley asked, incredulous.

"Nothing at all! I'm sure you’re a very nice pony, but there's no way I could approve of this."

"What are you saying, dad?"

"If you're serious about this, Measured..."

"Did you think I did all this as a joke?" Measured spat back.

"You could have had the decency to keep it to yourself and away from my home!" Rhymed replied.

"What was I going to say when the inevitable questions about settling down came up?" Measured asked angrily.

"I don't care! Lie! Anything's better than this disrespectful display! And in front of your sister and her special somepony..."

"What about my special somepony, dad? Don't we get any respect?" Measured asked, tears in his eyes.

"How am I supposed to respect this? How am I supposed to feel about my family line ending this way?" Rhymed responded.

"I can adopt. I could get a surrogate mother."

"Great! Non-blood and procreation outside of your marriage! This is supposed to make me feel better? Bad enough that you choose to do this! Go ahead and do what you want with my family's name. At least your sister had the decency to put a fake name on that smut she wrote!"

"Dad!" Lovely cried out in anger.

"Rhy, this is your son." Purple interjected. "This season is about accepting all types of ponies. We set aside petty tribal problems centuries ago."

"To survive, yes. We live among the other ponies. To mingle with them? The Prose family line descended straight down from unicorn to unicorn. That's how our name's survived. Throwing away all of that or tarnishing it with this immoral behavior? I can't accept it." With that, Rhymed turned back around and down the hall. A door slammed behind him.

"Mez...I'm..." Barley started, but Measured shushed him.

"No, this is my fault for even bringing you here. I knew he'd react like this."

Purple turned to face Measured. "It'll take time, Mez--"

"No. He's never going to accept me like this mom. I-we have to go. I just can't...right now." Barley nodded and followed Measured out the door.

Lovely turned to Second. "Happy Hearth's Warming."

Second twitched a smile. "Should we go as well?"

Purple nodded. "I think that'd be best. I'm sorry about all of that. We're usually quite pleasant to be around on the holidays."

***

"It's all my fault." Measured said monotonously.

"For the last time, Mez, no it isn't. They'd been having problems since you moved out. Probably before that, but they just got worse about hiding it over time." Lovely reassured him. She looked on from her seat on the recliner. Measured had thrown himself over the arm of the couch and hadn't moved since.

"I was the last straw." He countered.

"No, dad was the last straw. His horrible, antiquated ideas. His behavior at Hearth's Warming. You know the dolls mom sews for us each year? He tore your up that night. Mom was so livid with him she went to the attorney's office the next morning."

"Is that supposed to help?"

"Of course! Can't you see who's really to blame here? You can't help but be who you are! Father is so against that he would cut you out of the family. Mom wouldn't allow that! Please, Mez, give yourself a break."

His likely dire response was cut off by knocking at the door.

"You haven't given Barley his own key yet?" She asked as she stood up.

"Tell him I'm not home." Measured said grumpily.

"Have you even spoken to him since that night?"

"Why would he want to talk to me?"

"I don’t know. For some reason, he seems to be in love with you! Maybe I should disabuse him of that notion."

"Would you?"

"Oh, no. You want to cut ties with him, you do it. But, let me remind you that you thought he was worth it enough to come out to father and I know Barley wasn't the first stallion you ever laid your eyes on."

She went to the door and let Barley in. "Maybe you can get him out of his sulk."

Throwing herself back into the recliner, she lifted a magazine and pretended to read as her brother and his special somepony spoke.

"Are you mad at me?" Barley asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

"What? Why would I be mad at you?"

"You haven't spoken to me since that night." Barley reminded him. Lovely gave herself a point for getting that right.

"They're getting a divorce, Bar. My parents are divorcing because of me."

"It’s not your fault!" Barley and Lovely said at the same time. They looked at each other. Lovely smiled at him and mentally gave him another point. Barley smiled back.

Barley looked back at Measured. "I see your sister has been on your case about that too?" Measured nodded. "Good."

Measured snorted rudely.

"Well, if you're not going to listen to reason, maybe you'll listen to this." Barley pulled a box out from under his wing. "Measured Prose, I knew I loved you when we met and that feeling has only grown in the time we've been together--"

"Wait!" Lovely interrupted. Stunned, both stallions turned to look at her curiously. "How long have you two been dating?"

"Almost a year." Barley answered. Measured buried his head under a throw pillow.

Lovely set the magazine down with a slap. "Mez! You let me publish that book when you'd been gaying it up with this stud?"

"I wasn't ready to tell you!" He said, although it was somewhat muffled under the pillow.

"I'll kill you later." She looked to Barley. "Continue."

Blinking, he turned back to Measured. "Right. Head back up, you prat. If she throws something at you, even if you deserve it, I'll block it with my wings." He said, poking Measured's unguarded underside. Lovely made a note of that weakness.

Barley sat in front of Mez and opened the box. From Measured's expression, Lovely could tell what was inside. "I've lost my train of thought." Over the ring box, Measured glared at Lovely as Barley scratched his head in thought. "Oh, whatever. Will you marry me?"

"I don't deserve you." Measured said.

"Then let me spend the rest of our lives together proving to you how much we deserve each other." Barley replied.

"I'm not exactly easy to live with." Measured admitted.

Barley snorted. "You need to talk to my sister. You seem to have a rather inflated notion of my character. I assure you, I'm pretty hard to live with at times too."

"This is supposed to convince me?"

"This floor is harder than it looks, Mez. Say yes already."

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." Measured said finally.

A Lovely Future...or not.

"Honey, I'm sorry about your father." Purple said, addressing the elephant in the room finally.

Lovely shook her head as her mother adjusted her veil. Leave it to her mother to bring up the subject she'd rather avoid on her wedding day. "I shouldn't have expected him to be here."

Purple snorted. "I should have kicked his sorry plot to the curb a long time ago. At least your stallion has his priorities set. He'd do anything to give you the life you deserve."

Lovely looked away. "I don't know. Sometimes I feel like he's holding something back."

"Oh?" Purple asked, curious.

Lovely came back to her senses and waved a hoof. "Oh! Don't listen to me. It's probably just a little cold hooves. He's a great stallion and he's got such a bright future. And he doesn't mind that I write...what I write."

Purple laughed into her hoof. "One of these days, we're going to have a little talk about where you got some of those ideas, young mare."

Lovely flipped the veil to cover her blush. "Mom, it's a bit late for that talk."

Purple laid a hoof on Lovely's shoulder. "You're probably right. Foals grow up so fast."

Measured entered, properly suited and smiling. "Ladies, it's time."

***

Purple couldn't help but fawn over the little baby colt. "He's beautiful. He's got his momma's coat and his daddy's mane."

"His muzzle and points are from me too!" Second said from his spot on the second bed in the room.

"Of course." Purple said kindly. "Have you decided on a name, finally?"

Lovely crinkled her nose. "You know I wanted to see him first!"

Purple pointed at the bundle in her forelimbs. "Well, know you see him."

"He's taking his daddy's name, Story. We decided that a while ago." Lovely said, playing for time.

Purple pressed. "And his first name?"

Ignoring her, Lovely's gaze settled firmly on the little unicorn in her hooves. "Momma, he's my world. My life."

Purple smiled and sat up. "That sounds perfect. Life Story."

Looking over to her husband, Lovely asked, "What do you think, Second?"

He looked up cautiously, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "Are you done cursing my very existence?"

"I wasn't that bad." Lovely protested. Purple and Second exchanged glances.

Sighing, then wincing again, Second muttered. "I don't know why they ever think having stallions in a delivery room is a good idea."

Lovely rolled her eyes. "Honey, the name."

"Sounds better than nothing." He said sourly.

"He's just sore." Second snorted at her choice of words. "I wasn't going to let him name our colt Second the second. Now he's pouting."

"Am not!" Second pouted, turning his nose up.

"Of course not, dear." Lovely conceded. "You just stay over there and keep your dark cloud away from the baby."

"My dark cloud? You nearly put me through a wall!" Second reminded her, pointing at his bandaged barrel.

Lovely sniffed. "You told me to stop being ridiculous and focus!"

"You weren't pushing!" He said.

Purple cut in. "Enough, you two. You'll wake up the little guy."

***

"I'm the worst mother ever." Lovely said over little Life's cries for attention. She'd tried everything she'd ever heard, but nothing seemed to satisfy the poor teething toddler.

Second winced as Life's cry shot up another octave. "You're just new at this, dear." He said, reassuringly.

Lovely shifted the colt over to her other shoulder, using her magic to keep him from wriggling away. "If mother hadn't gone off to sunny Mareami, I could just have her come live with us."

Second shuddered at the thought. Though he loved Purple, it seemed the idea of having his mother-in-law around the house wasn't appealing. Picking up the pacifier, Second made another attempt at placating Life. This time, it seemed to work.

Lovely sighed, tears in her eyes. "I just don't have enough hooves."

"I've been thinking of hiring some help." Second offered.

Lovely widened her eyes. "Can we afford it? We just built this place, Second."

He smiled. "Well, that's the other thing. I'm taking over the firm."

The sudden announcement surprised her. She figured Fine Structure wouldn't just retire. "What? None of the sons want to take over Structure and Sons?"

Second shook his head. "No. Now it's Structure and Story. Mr. Structure wants to make sure his contacts become my own, so I'll have to do a lot of shmoozing if I really want to take things on. Which means a little more time away from home."

She rested a hoof on his reassuringly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, dear. Although, yes, we'll definitely need to hire someone to help keep things in order. Maybe even a cleaning service."

He nodded. "Agreed. You might even be able to get some writing done again."

She smiled thoughtfully. "I do have a pony at Barleyquin who's been all but begging me to make a comeback."

Second made a face at her mention of her old publisher. "You know, you could write something a little less...personal."

Nose in the air, Lovely stood up, lifting Life onto her back. It was the one way she knew that was foolproof at getting him to sleep. "I promise I won't base any characters on you. Not even a ridiculously well-hung one."

Second followed her as she made her circuit of the lower floor. "You'd write me ridiculously well-hung?"

"Well, it is fantasy, after all." She remarked drily.

Second pretended offense. "Ouch! See if I don't divorce you with talk like that."

Lovely snorted. "Oh please. I'm an unemployed mother. You'd lose at least half of your income in alimony and child support. Not to mention this lovely new home."

Sighing, Second looked over at their son and thanked Celestia he'd fallen asleep. "Fine, I guess I'll just have to keep you. I'm rather fond of this place after all the design work and dealing with the contractors."

"Not just keep me: keep me happy." She cast her magic around Life to keep him safe as she ascended the stair.

Following behind, Second reassured her. "Always."

***

"Mom?" Life pushed open the door to his mother's solarium. Looking around, he found it difficult to spot his mother among the plants and a fair number of easels.

Poking her head between a bush and an easel, Lovely spoke. "Life, sweetie, now is not a good time. Momma's working on her presentation for the next Writer's Convention."

Life pouted, gesturing with one ball-holding hoof. "But you just got back from..."

Lovely cut him off as she pulled her head back. "That was the Albaneigh Author's Expo. The Writer's Convention is local, dear, so don't worry about me going off again."

Sullen over the idea of him worrying over her near-constant travel, Life stalked around an easel. "I wasn't..."

Shooing him away from the front cover designs she was reviewing, Lovely thought quick. "Dear, please. Go ask your father to help you. I love you, dear, but this is important."

Hanging his head, he put the ball back into his saddlebag. "I love you, mommy."

"I love you more! Now go see your father." Life exited the room, but knew better than to disturb his father. Instead, he headed to the dining room. Taking the ball back out magically, he set it on the table and took his usual seat. Trying to keep himself from thinking about the recent rejection, he made the ball float here and there, zipping around the candlesticks and decorations.

"You're levitating things, Master Life? I thought you were having a great deal of difficulty with that." Silver asked from behind Life. His sudden appearance took Life by surprise and the ball knocked over the largest candlestick holder. The white taper broke into three pieces connected by the wick.

Panicked, Life tried picking the candle up and fixing it. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, Silver. I d-didn't..."

Patting the colt's back, Silver shushed him. "It's okay, Life. I can fix that while you tell me about how you learned to levitate finally."

Letting go of the candle with his magic, Life seemed to calm down more as Silver fixed the candle with his own magic. "Div gave me a training tool. It's a pen that attaches to your hoof. At first, it was really hard to use, but I wrote so much that it got a lot easier. I don't even get tired anymore."

Setting the candle back into its place, Silver smiled. "Congratulations, Master Life! Your parents will be..." Life sat on the floor and let the tears fall silently.

Lifting the little unicorn onto his back, Silver Platter spoke soothingly. "Now, now, Master Life--" He was cut off as the colt hugged his neck tightly, burying his face into Silver's mane. Silver sighed; he was glad that the foal hadn't accidentally nicked him with his horn this time. "I take it you've tried already?"

"Mm-hm." Life confirmed.

Thinking quickly, Silver walked into the kitchen and grabbed a scrap of paper and a quill. "Well, I'll send a note over to the diVolare's and see if little Sogni can come over and help us make chocolate chip cookies."

Muzzle still in Silver's mane, Life's voice was slightly muffled. "How many?"

Silver resisted a laugh. It wouldn't be proper, after all. Then again, neither was ruining the young colt's dinner, but Silver decided to blame it on a fake illness. "As many as you can levitate."

***

As Second went off to recalculate the nursery support beam, Lovely sighed. "I'm so sorry, Div. I can't believe this attitude from him."

"I can." Div said simply.

"What?" Lovely asked, alarmed.

Div lowered his head, but then looked Lovely in the eye. "Sorry, ma'am, but Mr. Story is like this all the time."

Lovely scoffed, certain the foal was playing some trick. "Well, surely not all the time. Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit?"

"Forgive me, ma'am. Momma Pro says not to be rude at another pony's home, but Mr. Story--" He stopped as Life bumped him.

"Div!" Life hissed.

"Life! Nothing can get better if you don't say something." Div shot back. Life stared daggers into Div.

"What does he mean, Life?" Lovely asked.

Div decided to speak for himself. "I mean he feels like Mr. Story..."

"Fine!" Life roared. "I'll tell her!"

Lovely set her hooves down on the table. "Life Story, what on Equestria is going on?"

Life stood, his forehooves and face shaking with anger and nerves. "I'm saying what I should've said ages ago. I hate him. I hate this house. As soon as I can, I'm moving out! Even if I have to live on the street! Happy now, Div?" With that, he stormed upstairs and slammed his door.

"I think I'd better..." Div trailed off, sliding out of his chair and heading towards the stairway.

Lovely sat, stunned. She looked to the stallion who'd stood by while the whole debacle played out. "Silver. Tell me the truth. Is Second really always like that with Life?"

Silver set his tray down and sat at the table. That was when Lovely knew there was trouble. In the years he'd worked for them, Lovely was sure this was the first time he'd ever sat down. "As much as I'd like to say otherwise, it's true. Master Story is quite often critical of young Master Life. Not to mention how he insists on the use of the word 'sir.'"

"How could I be so blind in my own house?" Then it hit her. All those books she'd published. How easily she'd sacrificed time with her family to meet a deadline or fulfill the request of one agent or another. All the appearances, the interviews, and planning convention panels. She'd let it get in the way.

Standing, Lovely wiped the tear from her eye. She didn't feel like she deserved to cry. "Silver. I need you to send my resignation to my agent."

Silver stood with her, but looked confused. "Ma'am?"

She clarified. "Until I have this problem fixed, I'm never touching a quill again." With that, she followed her son and his friend upstairs.

When she got to Life's door, she was surprised to find Div still outside of it. "How is he?" She asked softly.

Div scrunched his nose up and wiped his eyes. "He still won't let me in. He's mad that I told you anything."

She patted his shoulder. If she couldn't touch Life at the moment, she decided she'd reassure Div. "I'm glad you did. Sorry, again, Div."

Div looked away. His voice sounded tight. "It's...well, I hope it'll be alright." He stepped away from the door to wipe his eyes again.

Stepping up, Lovely tapped a hoof on the door. She could've unlocked it herself, but figured that would only worsen the situation. Instead, she leaned her face against the door and spoke. "Life, it's me. Please let us in, dear. We should talk about this." Something heavy hit the door and Lovely reared back for a moment. "Okay. We don't have to talk about anything."

At an impasse, Lovely sat on the floor of the hallway. Div returned to Life's door and followed suit, his back to the door. He called over his shoulder. "Life, I'm really sorry. Please open the door."

When that failed to get a response, Lovely waited for a while and tried again. "Life, dear. Div is right. Your father and I haven't done very well by you. I...I may have a solution. If you'll just speak to me."

The pause this time wasn't as long, but certainly longer than either of the two in the hallway would've liked. Slowly, the door opened. Div scrambled to get up and launched himself around Life's neck. Lovely lifted her eyebrows, but smiled knowingly. Life looked at her irritably through bloodshot eyes.

"I'm listening." He said, voice cracking and surly.

Lovely set her forehooves in her lap. "Your father has a friend who just started his own magazine. I know he's looking for staff writers and I'd already mention you once. He seemed keen on getting a SGU graduate. It might not be the type of work you want, but it'll help to start your portfolio and get you out of here if you want."

Life looked ready to tell her to go to Tartarus, then Div nudged him with his muzzle. Life sighed. "I'll think about it."

"I'm sorry, Life." Div said again.

Life shook his head tiredly. "Don't be, Div. I should've spoken up a long time ago."

"I'm sorry, too." Lovely said, hoping beyond hope that she could make things right.

Life crossed to her and gave her a hug. "I'm not mad at you, mom. I'm just not happy here anymore."

She patted his back. "I understand. If you want, I could help you find someplace..."

He pulled back to face her. "No. I'll pay my own way out of here. I have some saved up anyway."

Lovely nodded. With one hoof, she fixed a stray hair away from his face. "I see. I love you, Life."

He looked down, then back at her. "I...love you too, mom."

***

"You think you can just scare me like that?" Lovely asked from the doorway.

Second looked up from his hospital bed. "Good to see you too, dear. Is the colt here, too?"

"No, he isn't." She replied flatly.

He snorted. "You think the colt would have enough respect to come see his father in the hospital. Typical of him, though. Such a foalish--"

"Don't talk about my son like that. I didn't tell him." She said, walking to his bedside.

"What?"

She inhaled and let it out. "Ever since Life graduated and moved out, it's become incredibly clear to me that we failed him."

"What are you talking about? He graduated from SGU, we got him a job, and now he's on his own. I think we did just fine. It’s obvious who's failed--"

"I said, don't talk about my son like that!" Lovely said, stomping a hoof as she stepped forward. "He didn't just move out. He galloped out. Aside from a few things, his room is untouched. Life couldn't wait to escape."

"You're being dramatic. I know he's your only foal, Lovely, but he grew up. We did everything we could."

"We did everything except show him the love he desperately needed, Second."

"Of course we gave him love! We provided a roof, food, and the best education. What more could he want?"

"How about not having to call his father sir?"

"That was just to teach him respect--"

"And correcting him every time he stuttered?"

"But that--"

"And every time he mumbled."

"Lovely!"

"Second! Have you ever told him you love him?"

"What are you talking--"

"Answer me, Second Story! Have you told your son you loved him? Even once?"

"He knows I love him."

"How? As far as I know, he's never been able to read minds."

"That's enough, Lovely! I've been through enough today, I won't sit here while you disrespect me like this." Lovely turned around and headed to the door. "Where are you going?" He asked.

Whirling around, she stared him down. "Do you know who you sound like? My father. Do you remember what happened between him and my mother after he couldn't accept Measured for who he is?"

Second scoffed. "That's completely different. Life isn't some..."

"If you dare say a word against my brother, Second Story, so help me I will ensure you never leave that hospital bed." Lovely warned sharply. "You had better start thinking about accepting Life as he is instead of constantly pushing him to be the pony you want him to be. Or you can say goodbye to both of us. Your choice, Mr. Story."

"I love him." Second said finally.

"Then act like it. Be his dad." She said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now you worry about getting better so you can tell your son how much you love him."

"I-I'm sorry, Lovely. I thought I was doing what was best for him."

She sighed. "I know. We were both wrong about what was going on. I hope he'll really forgive us, in time."

A Lovely Name...or so she thinks.

In Canterlot, a mare of quality must possess a hoof-full of essential qualities. No, beauty, style, and trendiness are not in that hoof-full. Beauty fades, styles change, and once you start chasing trends one can never stop. Instead, a mare must possess grace, poise, and humor, among others. Grace keeps one from pettiness and politicking and opens more doors should others close them. Poise is a trait outside of time; one with poise is seen as a rock of steadiness in an unsure world. Humor ensures that you remain sane in the face of adversity.

Did Lovely possess those virtues?

"Mez, I'm telling you this as someone who loves you. Shove it up your tight hind end." Lovely said eloquently.

“Lovely Prose, it is the nature of the business in which we work that authors take on a pen-name.” Her agent repeated.

“Why wouldn’t I want my own name on this book, Messy?” She asked with a pout.

Removing his glasses, Measured Prose, brother, agent, and life coach massaged his forehead. “For one, not to humiliate your family.” He said darkly.

Shocked, Lovely pointed a hoof at his face. “You take that back, Mess!”

He looked up, defiant. “You think mom and dad want our family’s name on ‘The Importance of Banging Earnest?”

Lovely rolled her eyes. “That’s just the work in progress title, I was going to class it up eventually.”

Measured sniffed and turned to the bottle of hard cider he kept in the sidebar in his office. “To top it all off, it’s about gay ponies, Love. You know how dad feels about them.” He filled two glasses and levitated them over to the window-seat his sister now occupied.

Lovely took her glass with her own magic. “He’s just too old-fashioned! Get with the times! Also, how many other books can claim a gay protagonist?”

“None worth reading.” Measured said. He took a sip from his glass.

Lovely swept a hoof upwards in victory. “Exactly! I’ll be pioneering a new land.”

Measured snorted. “More like ploughing the back field.” He said into his glass.

She tapped his shoulder in reproof. “I’m not sure I like the comparison, Mez.”

Measured drained the rest and stood. “Pick a name. Any name. As long as it’s not your name.”

Throwing back her own, Lovely set the glass down sharply. “Fine, I pick…Messy Primrose.”

Measured whirled around. “Lovely!”

Lovely shook her head. “Nope! No Lovely's here. I’m Messy Primrose, writer of horrid smutty gay stories.”

Slumping his shoulders, Measured conceded. “I never said it was horrid.”

“Ha! I knew you’d like it.” Lovely said, clapping her hooves.

“Lovely! Focus!” Taking a seat at his desk, he picked up a quill and legal pad in his magic.

“If you insist." She cantered over to the front of his desk and sat like a lady on the chair in front. "I believe I'll use L. P. Rose.’

“Oh that’s subtle.” Measured said as he rolled his eyes.

“Take it or leave it, Mez.” Lovely said with her nose in the air.

"You're being a brat." Measured said as he narrowed his eyes.

She brushed imaginary dirt from her coat. "No, you're being too picky! L.P. Rose or I go on strike!"

"Celestia forbid you ever go on strike. If you're not writing, you're miserable to be around. Actually, now that I think about it, you're miserable to be around when you're writing as well." He complained with a huff.

Lovely stood and threw her head back. Her gold and cherry red mane flowed as if caught in the wind. She regarded her older brother seriously. "Measured Prose." She began, and he knew he was in trouble by the way she used his real name. "You are to submit this and any future works I have under the name L.P. Rose. If father has a problem, he can take it up with me directly. Is that understood?"

"Lovely, even the best cover name is blown eventually. You'll be associated with these - and I use your own words here - smutty romance novels for your entire career. It could even blow your chances at regular fiction."

"Mez, these stories need to be told. I firmly believe that there isn't enough acceptance of all things romantic. If we can't express our desires, how can we fully live our lives? I'll change the title, but the story and my commitment to it, remains."

Measured sighed. "Fine. There's a publisher that might just work with us. They usually go for straight couples, but they might just bite at this."

"Who?" She asked.

He replied as he turned back to his papers. "Barleyquin Romance."

"I've read a few of those!" She said, excitedly drumming her hooves on his desk.

"I'm not surprised." He rescued his inkwell from Lovely's assault.

"Can it, Mez." She turned, nearly knocking the inkwell over with her tail.

"We can get it published, but that's no guarantee anypony will read it. Do you have a plan on that?" He asked.

She turned her head back over her shoulder. "I've already booked a table at the next writer's convention. And I'll be hosting a panel on writing from different viewpoints. I'll just need you to make sure the book's printed, as well as a few fliers, bookmarks, and business cards."

Measured stood up, his nerves plain to see in his widened eyes and trembling lower lip. "Lovely, that's too much attention! What if dad sees this?"

"As if father pays any attention to the convention scene anymore. Stuffy old stallion would probably implode if he ever got near the romance section." Lovely snarked.

"He'll find out. He'll kick you out, too." Measured said.

She turned around to face him. "I was going to have to move out sooner or later, Mez." Measured heaved a sigh.

"And I suppose you think you can just move in with me?" He replied, his stance and expression back to normal.

"I can't?" She asked, coyly batting her lashes.

He shook his head. "Don't be silly, of course you can."